How I Spent My Summer Vacation

... or Kickin' it Into High Gear

Heading back to the Square for one more year.

All right folks. I know what you're expecting. Usually, people try to prolong summer, to revel in the warmth and the sun and the surf (if you happen to be so lucky.) You're waiting for me to be all, "Dear Summer, please don't end. Please don't leave me for your lesser cousin, Indian Summer, which combines the sweaty, moist heat of summer with the unfortunate addition of classes, homework, and a required daily commute." But I'm not going to say that. I'm not going to whine that I wish Summer would stick around like an unwelcome house guest. Go ahead and hate me for it, but it's officially over in my mind. Summer, even though I technically have two more weeks of you, I don't want them. We're through.

Why? Because I'm officially ready to Kick It Into High Gear. No more dreading the stressful school year or the pressure of "What Am I Going to Do When I Graduate?" or even "How Am I Going to Pay for My Groceries?" These are inconsequential problems that can be solved if I just say "Okay, summer's over. Let's do this." This morning, when I got off the subway lugging my suitcase from my weeklong vacation in Martha's Vineyard, I looked at the empty Brooklyn street, smelled the delicious stench of hot pavement and city dirt, and thought to myself, "I can do this..." whatever this happens to be. One more year of school isn't something to be feared, it's something to be EXCITED about. So I'm having my team huddle, blog-style, and giving myself a pep talk. On the count of three, I'm putting my hands in and saying "Bring It." 1...2...3... BRING IT.

But first, before I start, I think I need to pay summer its dues. Sure, I spent much of these past few months umbrella-less and penniless, but it was a memorable summer, and even an enjoyable one. This is the summer I became autonomous, did a lot of thinking, made some Big Steps. I read a few great books, watched a large amount of Sports Channels, and spent a lot of time with someone who, back in March, I thought I might never see again. So here is a list (in no particular order) of high points -- an homage, if you will -- to Summer 2009.

1. Fourth of July Fireworks

From the top of the MSLO building, right on the West Side Highway. What could be better? A bottle of wine, some cherries, and one of those "Only in New York" kinda nights.

2. Friends from Across the Pond

The infiltration of Adorable Welsh Subletter into the Brooklyn Nook was a blessing and made a fun little trio of Myself, the Welsh Cake, and BiddyLuddy. I will miss seeing her little orangey-red head sleeping in that room and now have a reason to save up my money and visit London and Wales, if only to hear her call potato chips "crisps" just one more time.

3. Reading and Writing

This summer, I finally got to do some reading, notably a few books by Wally Lamb that were really fantastic. I also got to do some writing -- and not just blogging. If you read regularly, you know that I am on a Crusade of sorts to write a novel. Well, I am FAR from writing that novel, but getting to sit and ponder and write was a luxury I know I won't have time for once the school year begins. Still, walking along the street deep in thought about characters and plot (not test material or song lyrics) is something I will miss greatly.

4. Minimal Connecticut Involvement

This isn't meant to diminish my hometown. The Constitution State was a great place to grow up, and I will never forget my New England roots that include, among other things, polo shirts, ribboned pigtails, vacations in Cape Cod and Martha's Vineyard, house parties with "beirut" and cruising with the top down through the streets of Suburbia. But that time has passed. This summer, I was a stranger in my own home -- literally. I don't fit anymore, Connecticut. I feel like a sore thumb, an anomaly, an incongruity within your confines. When the express train leaves Grand Central, I ache for the smell of the Main Concourse (see previous "Smells" post). And when I get behind the wheel of a car, I can't remember any of the street names or the simplest routes to the movie theater or the mall. Bottom Line: Although a Nutmegger by blood, I think I'm more of a New Yorker at heart... for the time being.

5. Borough Discovery

I feel as if I haven't even scratched the surface of my new home, Brooklyn, but what little I have seen of it, I love. This is the summer I learned there is life outside of Manhattan, there are places to see that extend past the East River. Who knows if I'll ever move back?

6. Paying A Lot of Money to Learn Things

As you must know by now, I did an internship at Martha Stewart Living Magazine. I am more than fairly certain that confidentiality is of the utmost importance at MSLO, so I've avoided putting much about the internship on my blog. (The last thing I need is being sued for writing something that too closely resembles an exposé ... although the internship wasn't a Devil Wears Prada sort of internship). But I really did learn about the industry, about making a magazine, and about the fact that I could -- and would -- work for a publication in the future.

6. Skip This Point If You Have An Aversion to Romance

Yes, Number 6 has multiple parts. And yes, Number 6 is about That Guy, The Boyfriend, who was a big part of why I will miss this summer, whether he likes it or not.

a) Nothing Beats My Couch...: Some of my best weekends were spent glued to our Ikea couch watching 30 Rock or Dexter, drinking beer, and either laughing or biting my nails (depending on the series) along with The Boyfriend. On my last day of my internship, he came over and I roasted us a chicken that we consequently ate while watching an epic extra-innings Yankee-Red Sox game. It's true, what they say -- true love is being comfortable enough with someone to really just do nothing. Er, actually, I don't really know who says that. But I do. And I believe it. He doesn't need to be entertained, and neither do I -- unless, of course Showtime On Demand is doing the entertaining.

b) ...Except Maybe Kayaking: I took The Boyfriend on family vacation in Martha's Vineyard this past week (which is one of the many reasons why my posts have been scarce recently) and, bless his heart, he survived. Not only did he survive, he played guitar for everyone on the beach. He answered all of my little cousin's questions about baseball as well as chorus of, "Hey [The Boyfriend]! Is THAT Mustang like your Mustang?" about a car that was, always, at least 30 years younger than the beautiful creature he drives. He sat on a bench with my grandfather while my grandma and I shopped, the two "boys" sipping coffee and trading stories. He played Scrabble with me and shared my kayak and biked 15 miles and ate sea pickles. Who knows what the future holds -- lives get complicated, people get jobs, some people go back to school -- but it doesn't really matter. You can't hold on to moments or count the seconds or worry about what's to come. I had his company for this summer, nonstop for this past week, and I couldn't really ask for more.

Okay, WMWC readers. There you have it. Sure, I may do Summer-esque things in the next two weeks, but they don't count. I'm writing off summertime and bidding it adieu. I have a To-Do list of 14 things that aren't going to check themselves off.

Summer, it's been real.

A Promise to Someone Who Matters

Me.

In the past two weeks, more than one person whose opinion matters to me has given me advice that is along the lines of "You have to take care of yourself. You have to make you happy."

Yeah, well, that's easier said than done. I like to make other people happy and tend to lose track of my own happiness along the way. I end up losing sight of what it is that I want and need.

Well you know what? To quote my mother, "Eff you very much," everyone else. I can't appease the entire world and I can't sacrifice myself in the process. I apologize for all of the italics in this (I personally judge people who overuse any kind of font change in their writing. Can't you make a point without the help of underlining or slanty letters?) but they're just necessary right now, you know? And although it's not New Years, I'm making a resolution. An official blog resolution, which makes it real, obviously. The only way it could be realer is if it was on Facebook.

Resolution: I'm going to try to be all about me.

And here are the ways I'm going to do so:

1) Not doing anything I don't want to do. I'll do you favors and I'll be kind, but if I really don't want to do something (excluding working because, well, I need money to finance Number 4 and Number 10) I just won't do it. Simple as that. And if I want to spend my Saturday night reading magazines in my bed, that is totally okay.

2) Making delicious food items for myself and the people around me. But only when I want to, naturally. Microwave cooking for one is also allowed.

3) Not apologizing. This is a big one for me. Unless I really do something mean, or bump someone on the Subway, I'm not saying I'm sorry. So I guess I should change this one to "Not apologizing when an apology isn't necessary."

4) Indulging in a lot of hobbies that include cooking, baking, crafting, exercising, reading, and possible rock climbing if the gaping holes in my fingers from my first attempt on Friday ever heal. Basically I'm going to be a very strong, buff Susie Homemaker. Which is facilitated by the fact that I'm an editorial intern at Martha Stewart Living and totally just scored her new cupcake book (shhh!) Come to my apartment, you might find cupcakes!

This is an origami dragon I made this

 afternoon while watching Californication... 

which, by the way, is awesome. 

5) Making myself look nice for no one but myself, because it makes me feel good.

6) Giving myself things to look forward to that don't rely on other people. Like, "Today, I'm going to get a cup of really good coffee and read a magazine when I get off work." Or, "This weekend, I'm going to wear those shorts I like and go out and have a good time." I'm gonna get myself some Yankee tickets, finally see Hair, and stand in line to see Shakespeare in the Park... because I really want to see Audra do Twelfth Night.

7) Girl time. I've been seeing some of my best friends more often recently, and it's been so refreshing and rehabilitating. So, ladies, I'm going to be calling you more often and wanting to go out for sangria and Mexican and share intimate secrets. I hope you're ready to dish.

8) Letting go of things I can't control. I won't elaborate, but there are things I worry about too much that I can't fix and I can't help. So you know what? I won't worry.

9) Enjoying the way things feel in the moment without worrying about how fleeting they might be. 

10) Having fun. Pure, simple, belly laugh-inducing fun.

Okay, WMWC readers. There's my list and there's my resolution. I'll keep you updated on how it goes, hopefully with pictures of successful crafting/cooking/baking/living adventures.

Oh, and I also made a really sweet origami tortoise after the dragon. Nice, right?

Raindrops on Roses, Whiskers on Kittens

The name of this post refers to the song "My Favorite Things" from that Rodgers and Hammerstein gem about a nun and some Nazis - The Sound of Music. But really, this post has nothing to do with any of the hijinks that surround those adorable Von Trapp kinder. Instead, I would like to make a WMWC list (haven't you missed 'em?) entitled:

These Are a Few of My Favorite... Smells.

Is it weird that I want to buy these for my housewarming party?

Why smells, you ask? Well, first off because my sense of smell is very good. Thankfully not as good as my mother's, whose smell is so keen she is disturbed by even the faintest scent of flowery perfume. Which, you know, was great for my self confidence. (Mom: "What is on you!? You smell terrible!" Me: "Uhh... Tommy Girl?") But this post isn't about the various ways that parents scar their offspring. Or about the fact that I still wear Tommy Girl but don't tell anyone. It is, instead, about the many scents I have encountered throughout my life that can bring up vivid memories or simply please my nosebuds (those don't exist). I'm going to try to avoid the obvious (baking cookies, freshly cut grass) since, well, duh. But since I know you're all chomping at the bit (oh the suspense!) here is the official Woo Me With Cupcakes Smell List '09... in no particular order.

1) Grand Central Terminal

This seems like a strange place to start, but it is one of my most favorite smells ever. It's hard to put my finger on its exact smell, but it's a cross between home and adventure. Whether I'm stepping off the train and back into the city or leaving the hustle and bustle, GCT means exciting things, new beginnings, endless possibilities, or that beautiful three-syllable word: vacation. 

2) Gasoline

I know a lot of people are divided on this issue, but the smell of gasoline is intoxicating. Agree or disagree, I'd like to know your opinion.

3) Freshly Washed Male

I don't mean to say that slightly dirty male doesn't also smell delectable, but there is something both comforting and tingle-inducing about the smell of a boy, preferably a cute one, who has just stepped out of the shower. It's a mixture of indifference (Who cares what soap I just used? I don't.) and simple freshness. A similar scent to this, though not nearly as good, is Clean Laundry.

4) Clove Cigarettes

Now, this is a weird one coming from someone who doesn't smoke anything (The Folds! The Folds!) but I really do enjoy the aroma of clove cigarettes. They're warm and inviting and exotic. And a little bit badass because, well, they ARE still cigarettes.

5) Adidas Cologne

Okay, this is even stranger than the cigarettes, and you're going to have to forgive me for it, but my high school boyfriend wore a cologne that I have somehow linked so tightly to my early high school years that one sniff brings me back to the mustard colored walls of Freshman year and I can just feel myself wearing men's pants and a Paul Frank T-shirt. Best part of college: learning to dress myself. 

6) New Books

This is the secret reason why I buy books I could just as easily take out at the library. Hard cover, paperback, picture book - the smell of new books is a glorious thing. Don't sneak up on me in a bookstore... you might find me sniffing up a storm in the New Fiction section.

7) French Vanilla Coffee

For a while, I thought hazelnut was where it's at. Then I got me some french vanilla and BAM. New favorite coffee smell. The end.

8) My Grandmother's Perfume

My Grandma has worn the same perfume ever since I can remember - something floral and freesia-filled, though I could be completely wrong. But a hug from my grandma (for everyone besides my perfume-averse mother, I guess) is like a step into a garden. An expensive, classy one. Located in Bergdorf Goodman's.

9) Nail Salons

There's just something about the chemical fumes, nail polish remover, and paraffin wax that scream "relaxation." I mean, even if you're NOT about the have your feet rubbed and are instead about to have the very hairs plucked out of your follicles (My new theory: Original sin exists and women are paying for it Every. Single. Wax. Thanks, Eve.) the scent of a nail salon means at least you don't have to do it yourself. Sit back, and let someone else torture you. That's luxury.

10) Chlorine

Chlorine means a pool, but more than that, it means a clean pool. See all those kids over there wearing floaties and doing handstands? That strong chemical scent means their fecal matter bacteria is being swiftly killed off, allowing me to swim in peace without threat of E. coli. Sharks and minnows, anyone?

11) Peppermint Tea

This was a difficult one to chose, since there are a vast number of beverages that smell awesome. Other examples? Hot chocolate, hazelnut hot chocolate, beer (Yes, I think beer smells GREAT), coffee, etc... But Peppermint Tea is so goddamn soothing, you can't help but get all zen just wafting it.

12) Mall Pretzel Stores

Forget the fact that I avoid Mall Pretzels like the greasy, calorie-filled plague that they are. Mall Pretzel Stores are like food smell porn. Picture this: You've been shopping for three hours. You're exhausted, your credit cards are still warm from an excess of swiping, and you can hardly see straight because of all the scanning you've been doing for The Perfect Outfit. In a daze, you stumble toward the exit only to pass... The Mall Pretzel Store. You stand there, take it in, absorb that delicious scent of salt and dough. And then you leave. But it was good while it lasted, wasn't it?

13) The Limited Too

This store, my friends, is the scent of my youth. That bubble gum lipgloss smell in conjunction with the smell of various synthetic pom-pom doodads just makes me go "Ahh, middle school. You were awkward." In a good way.

14) Street Nuts

Clarification: I don't mean crazy people who live on the street. I mean the venders who sell those nuts that I basically never eat but almost always love to smell. Nuts 4 Nuts or whatever. Right? Either way, they smell heavenly.

15) A Stage

I'm not sure why the theatre smells so good, particularly the stage part of it. And maybe my fellow performers can understand this a little bit. But step on a stage sometime and take a whiff of the professionalism at work. I mean, it smells like the kind of place where people do what they love and get paid for it. It smells like victory. Mmm.

There you have it, WMWC readers. A good solid fifteen smells for you to sit and bask in. And the next time you see me in person, please do me a favor - tell me your favorite smell. We'll talk about it, we'll reminisce together. We'll maybe even do a little covert sniffing.

The Jerk Factor

Today's entry is a little bit different than previous entries. I'm not going to go so far as to call it a rant, but perhaps an exploration of something I've found true but nevertheless mind-boggling.

So here it is. The ultimate question: 

Why is a certain degree of douchebag-ness in a man sometimes (gulp)... attractive?

Ok, you got me, I just wanted an 

excuse to ogle Clive Owen.

Ugh, I hate that I even WROTE that sentence, mainly because I am a faithful proponent of nice guys everywhere. Nice guys, please don't misunderstand. I am steadfastly staying on your side. You know who you are. You're the men who respect women and woo them with real dates. The men who understand that compliments go a long way. The men who would offer to wash dishes if a meal was made for them. The men who hold doors. For people other than themselves.

I guess it's part of my newfound fascination with vampires (I know, gross) that brought this up. I mean, vampires are NOT nice guys. They want to suck your BLOOD for god's sakes. So why are women around the world all hyped up over pasty, cold men who may or may not want their next girlfriend to be their lover-slash-snack?

All I can say is that it's like a disease... some women have it worse than others. I won't name names (cough, my mother, cough), but I know women both old and young who have found the same information to be true. Symptoms can be as severe as spending years of your life with various men who are moody, tyrannical, and downright mean, or they can be way less pronounced. Like the ones I see in myself... hints that I'm not completely resistant to the gravitational pull assholes sometimes have. Hints that are frightening.

I have a few theories, although since my experience with jerks is (thankfully) low on the spectrum, I doubt any of them are very good. I would also like to say that for all of you covert WMWC readers out there (I suspect I may have some...) feel free to comment with your own theories.

Here they are:

1) The "Patron Saint of the Assholes" Theory.

It's been said, time and again, that women are often looking for a project (though, of course, we shouldn't be.) Sometimes I think we gaze at the handsome, brooding jerk and we think "Maybe... just maybe... if he fell in love with me, I could save him!" Oh, you mean turn him into the nice guy you really need? He doesn't need, or want, your saving.

2) The "Good In Other Departments" Theory.

This one doesn't need much explanation. Essentially, I think we subconsciously look at someone who's attractive and a terrible person and think "Well, he might be good at other things." Mostly we're thinking about, well, bedroom things. I personally blame the movies, since the "bad guys" in movies seem to fulfill this theory. Exhibit A: Vampires.

3) The "Accessories Make The Man" Theory.

Many stereotypical bad guys come with a lot of good visual accessories. You think "Good Guy" and you think... I don't know, khakis or something. Jeans that don't fit right. A hat their mom gave them. Glasses. You think "bad guy" and you think leather jacket, devil-may-care attitude, sexed-up car. Maybe if the good guys learned to dress themselves, we shallow women wouldn't have to outsource to their devilish nemeses.

And finally...

4) The "Clearly We Enjoy Suffering" Theory.

Falling in love with men who reek of "this-will-only-end-in-tears" is purely a sign of masochistic tendencies.

I know things aren't black and white, and that the entire species called "Man" can't be divided up into "Guys who will call you back" and "Guys who will wreak havoc on your life." But I think many women wouldn't deny the fact that there is a strange, exotic pull towards the men who are trouble with a capital T.

I, for one, will continue to ignore it.

After Careful Research...

...it turns out that breakin' up IS hard to do. Who would have thought?

Yeah, that's Bridget right there, wallowing in sadness.

Because it's been a whole week since I've written anything, I feel I deserve to bring my sunny view on life to something it's very hard to be optimistic about. The Break Up.

Side Note: Because we at WMWC (We = Me) keep things VERY classy, this isn't going to be the place where I post The Well-Intentioned Ex-Boyfriend (his new title)'s home address and ask you to wreak havoc on his life. Hardly. I only have the utmost respect for him. I'm not even including specifics, so you can go off and speculate as you please. Really, go ahead. Here are some examples of acceptable speculation: Were there five other women involved!? Was I the other woman all along!? Did I fall in love with his cryogenically frozen twin brother who was previously thought dead and gone? IS HE A VAMPIRE!? Etc., etc...

Ok, stop speculating for a moment and listen to my wisdom I've accumulated in, oh, exactly 24 hours of heartbreak. I know, I'm practically a veteran at this point.

First off, it turns out that The Break Up is an intricate, exotic animal, sort of like a Liger. As Jeffrey Lebowski (The Dude) might say, it has "a lotta ins, a lotta outs, a lotta what-have-yous." Really, Dude, I couldn't have phrased it better myself.

Alright, I do have a phrase to add: It sucks. Eloquent, I know. And although it sucks, I've decided to compile a list of reasons why it doesn't suck. Feel free to comment and add other reasons - I don't have ALL the wisdom in the world, you know.

1) To be serious for a second, you don't realize quite how many people love you (or how many people you love) until a loss occurs. I have so many wonderful friends and parents and grandparents in my life. I've never felt so taken care of and loved like I do right now... and so, so grateful.

2) I want to buy things, and I don't feel bad about it. Today I went to Sephora with a gift card and bought a new lipstick. I'm wearing it now. It's really, really pretty and pink and I feel like a totally new woman.

3) I've lost four pounds. Ok, that has nothing to do with TBU, since anxiety doesn't generally quell my appetite (if only...), but it doesn't hurt things either. Example:

Scene: Walks into the bathroom, looks in mirror.

Mirror Self: "You look hot. And thin. Wallowing totally becomes you."

Glance at side view, makes a sexy-face. (Ladies, don't pretend you don't have a mirror-sexy-face.)

Regular Self: "Hey! You're totally right! I'm going to put on jeans that make my butt look nice and get myself out of the house!"

Four pounds lost, problem solved. See?

4) I've stopped fidgeting. If you know me in real life, I'm a really fidgety person. I bite my nails, I crack my knuckles, I DON'T STOP MOVING. It drives my mother crazy, she's always asking "Why are you so nervous." Well, it turns out it was because I was HAPPY. Weird. Sadness took care of that habit!

5) Train ticket and gas money for trips to see The Well-Intentioned Ex-Boyfriend can now be spent on new clothes. I mean, sure, he was worth every penny. But it doesn't mean a new spring wardrobe isn't worth it either... I'm thinking a bright colored trench coat would be LOVELY.

6) Time. Right now, I don't know what to do with myself. I'm always so busy and crazed, these weekends ahead of me without a trip (or a visitor) scheduled are looming, empty and desolate. But I think I finally need to learn how to fill time and RELAX. So maybe it's a blessing in disguise, after all.

I apologize to you, readers, if this entry was too personal for what you've come to expect from me, but I like to think you've all been there, or known someone who's been there, and that you can appreciate a humorous, positive take on TBU. And who knows, maybe some day I'll be writing an entry about The New Guy or even The Un-Break Up with The Well-Intentioned Ex-Boyfriend. Only time will tell.

OR maybe I'll become some weird spinster who wears lipstick when she's alone and watches Jeopardy all the time (TOTALLY a possibility.) 

But please, send well-wishes so that doesn't happen.

25 Things, But In a Not-So-Creepy Way

Recently, I've been having this weird desire to see if I could do one of those "25 Things" lists, mostly because I don't think I'm interesting enough to put something down for every number. And although I read everyone else's lists like a total creepy stalker, I just couldn't bring myself to do it on Facebook. So I thought, quite logically, that I'd try it out on my blog, where people specifically go (correct me if I'm being narcissistic here) to read about me and the things I think about. Therefore, this is a pretty good forum for it.

Here they are:

1. I have three brothers, ranging in age from 2 to 16 (going on 17). I'm the only child in the family with a first name that has more than one syllable.

2. When I'm not at school, I drive a standard transmission fire engine red Jeep that I've named Jeepy... and I don't care if you think naming cars is stupid. Half the irony is in the fact that it's just Jeep with a Y. I get it. Do you?

3. My favorite color is Fire Engine Red.

4. I'm the Co-Author of three books, two of which are currently in bookstores.

5. I can turn my feet in all the way but have always wished they turned OUT instead. My left foot is slightly pigeon-toed when I walk. It's not cute.

6. I'm half Italian, and the other half is a hodge-podge of Ukrainian, Russian, and Latvian (I think...)

7. I like pasta in all forms. Meaning I eat it hot, cold, AND dry (mmm, crunchy).

8. The other day, I was asked what super power I would have if I could have any super power I wanted. My answer was "The ability to eat anything and not gain weight and not get too full."

9. I HATE cream cheese. I've never tried it, but I hate the smell of it, the look of it, and what seems to be the texture of it. And when I was a kid, I hated every child who had it for breakfast and had shmears of it left over on his or her face. GROSS.

10. I'm a music major, but I rarely actually listen to music. I sing music, I learn about music, and music is one of the things I feel most passionate about in life. But I can't do anything very well while I listen to it (I guess it's a brain coordination thing) and most times it doesn't even occur to me to try.

11. I like to start things from square one and see them all the way through. Like laundry. I prefer to wait till everything is dirty, then wash ALL of it. One small load to get through the week? That's not okay with me.

12. I'm good at drawing. And coloring. I can teach myself any craft and master it pretty swiftly, but I'll get tired of it half way through and throw the materials (yarn? glitter? origami paper?) into this big box of reject arts supplies I have in my closet. My favorite craft is jewelry making. I have some pretty sweet earrings I made years ago.

13. Sometimes I talk to myself. Out loud. Usually behind the wheel.

14. I am SO gullible. My best friend when I was young used to tell me lies like "My house burned down!" because she knew I would believe them in a heartbeat. We're still friends, so clearly I'm also forgiving.

15. I hate confrontation. I avoid it at all costs.

16. I love love. I am at my happiest when I have someone to love.

17. I have a lot of fears... I would venture so far as to say I am afraid of almost everything, but not to the point where it prevents me from doing things that require a dose of bravery. I'm afraid of death and of dying young. I'm constantly scared of any and all public transportation. If you see me make a wide-eyed, terror-stricken expression on the subway sometime, it's nothing you said. I'm just convinced, at that moment, that I'm going to end up like some victim I saw on a Grey's Anatomy episode who had a subway pole driven through her abdomen. Just keep talking, I'll snap out of it.

18. But not on planes. I'm really scared of planes. The Boyfriend's mom was a flight attendant, and unfortunately I've had to veto listening to all of her exciting airplane stories.

19. For years, I had my mom (who's a chef) make me a birthday dinner that consisted of linguini with white clam sauce and greek salad. It was always the same thing and it was always delicious.

20. I like to be alone and I like to do things alone. I really enjoy going to restaurants myself, sitting with a book or a crossword puzzle, and having a salad and a cup of coffee.

21. I ran Cross Country and Indoor Track in high school for two years and I did middle distance. I started Cross Country because my friend asked me to, and I did Indoor Track as a way to get to know a boy... who I dated for four years after that. But I hated the sport. To this day, the sight of a distance race makes me want to vomit.

22. I am really, REALLY competitive. Over the years, I've been able to calm some of the overwhelming rage I feel when someone beats me in something, but I know it's still there. Little things, like a game of Trivial Pursuit at a party or a random sports event will bring it out. It scares even me.

23. I used to (and still can) play Alto, Tenor, and Baritone Saxophone. Bari is my favorite. I wish I played piano.

24. My middle name is Filomena. A lot of people know this about me, but the ones who don't are always surprised.

25. Along those same lines, I use "What's your middle name?" as a conversation starter/pick-up line. I know, I know, Number 25 should actually be "I'm totally pathetic."

And there you have it, 25 Random Facts about myself. None of them particularly interesting or exciting, but hey, at least you haven't been tagged and forced to do this yourself!

...As a side note, I love all past, present, and future presidents for making this holiday possible. Have a good President's Day, WMWC readers!