Tag Archives: BFF4EVA


Happy birthday to me!  Yesterday I turned 25 years old– one whole quarter century.  I spent the weekend in Chicago following a work trip to Wisconsin and left feeling exhausted and full and slightly hungover after 4 days of excellent quality time with friends and family.  I’m a damn lucky girl.


Wisconsin was as you can expect Wisconsin to be– full of cheese curds and Leinenkugel and locally made meat sticks.  It was mostly uneventful, but involved a highlight or two.

There was a net set up in the backyard where we were staying.  After a BBQ Monday night and a handful of beers a piece, we decided to try our hand at a friendly game of volleyball.  First play of the game, old co-worker KT hit current co-worker K smack in the face in an overhand serve.  They were on the same team.

It’s a good thing K wasn’t hurt because it was a whole 5 minutes before we’d composed ourselves to ask if she was OK.  Another 10 degree turn to the head and she would have had a broken nose for sure.  And none of us were the least bit curious about seeing the inside of the Wisconsin hospital.


We rented out a bar Wednesday night for a work party.  Part of the deal was that we were in charge of manning the door, so I got to try my hand at bouncing.  Which was not nearly as awesome as I’d imagined it to be.

The cops came mid-way through the night.  Not because we were causing a ruckus, but because there was a black Mustang that needed to be moved.  I was sitting at the door, minding my own business a half hour later when an old man came up to me and got all up in my face.  Might I add, he’d recently eating a whole shit ton of crackers.


“Huh?” is what I responded.  Because yeah, there were a lot of people in the bar, but I’ve seen worse.

“There are people everywhere!  There is no aisle to move!  The cops were here!” he yelled angrily.  Crackers flying everywhere.  Mostly into my face.

It took me a minute to realize he wasn’t fucking with me and then as politely as one could be when one is getting spit on and within 4 feet of one’s CEO, mumbled something about the Mustang and that he should maybe leave if he didn’t like it.  His buddy pulled him out by the shirt collar mere seconds before I lost my patience.

I know one thing.  If that old man, I believe Ernie is his name, shows up on the same red polo next year I will 86 him before he steps foot in the door.  No one over the age of 2 is allowed to spit in my face.  And that’s final.


Chi-town was everything I needed it to be– fun, relaxing, fun, drunk.  I like to joke that Chicago is where to go when I need to be around the people who love me the most (save for my parents) and this weekend did everything to support that statement.

Lou and I had a whole tartare course (steak and salmon!) at a fancy restaurant located directly across the street from where they park the city garbage trucks.   I drank beers at my college hangout with my little brothers.  Took shots of Jameson.  Read my book in bed until late in the morning.  Enlightened by my 9 year old cousin that when she grows up she’d like to be either a singer, Broadway performer, lawyer or president of the United States.  Watched She’s All That on the couch.  Gifted a wonderful pair of new boots.  Smiled until my face hurt.

Essentially– an excellent excellent weekend.  I left feeling completely whole.  And damn, did I need it.  Thanks, friends.


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Every morning I arise from my slumber to seize the day and think– this will be the day I get my life together.  This will be the day I acknowledge a bottle of wine and buttered noodles doesn’t constitute dinner.  This will be the day that I decide green beans and carrots and healthy things are more delicious than french fries.  And the day I reacquaint myself with both the gym and exercise*.  This will be the day!

And then I house a 10″ pizza all by my lonesome.  And it’s good.  And think– tomorrow.  Tomorrow will be the day!  Tomorrow will be the day I get my shit together.  And then Natalie e-mails me about our happy hour plans.  Damnit.


Louisa got into DC late Thursday night– we promptly began drinking and celebrating our togetherness, which continued after last call on my front porch.  A couple of beers and a whole box of goldfish crackers into the early morning, I realized our bus to NYC was leaving in 5 hours and I had yet to pack.  I naturally assumed we were doomed.

But we were not!  Louisa and I, being the grown-ups that we now appear to be, not only made it to the bus on time, but with bottled water, coffee, strawberry smoothies and garlic bagels.  We high-fived, shoveled the food and liquids into our mouths and went back to sleep.

Our NYC vacation was a whole lot of eating, a whole lot of drinking and a whole lot of getting lost.  Adulthood can be measured in this regard by two distinct facts:

1.  After a solid Friday night of drinking and dancing, we spent the majority of Saturday hungover and lost in Brooklyn.  After a delicious dinner that evening, complete with a cocktail and bottle of wine, we took ourselves back to the hotel to watch TV.  We knew we could have powered through that long-lasting hangover and get to gettin’, yet we also knew that a hungover-free ride back to DC Sunday morning would be very nice.  BAM!  We’re adults.

2.  We now order the expensive bottle of wine.


Note:  There was a 30 minute time lag between when I started this post and when I attempted to complete it.  The acquisition of lunch was included in that brief break.  As a result of that lunch, the update is as follows–I just ate a grip** of brownies.

*You’d be amazed at how much more fun it is to go to the gym when your sole goals is sitting in the hot tube.

**A measurable unit that means “a lot”.  Which I just had to explain to Josephina.  She responded, “I just imagine you gripping the sides of a brownie pan and pouring the contents into your mouth.”  Not a bad idea, sister.

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10 on Thursday

1.  I went to the gym this morning.  Win!

2.  Then I got to the office and ate an entire bagel with cream cheese (breakfast), soup I made and froze a month ago that is 2 parts cream and 1 part butter (lunch) and an entire mini-box of Chees-Itz (snack).  Fail.

3.  None of that really matters because my BFF4EVA is coming to DC today!  And while I realized she should get top billing, the fact that I made it up and out of the house that early in the day is something to be proud of.  Be impressed, morning people.  I made it up and out of the house before 7AM and only forgot half my belongings.

4.  Als0, I am wearing my really heavy winter wool coat that is a little bit damp from the rain last night, so I smell like a wet dog.  Did I mention it was 65 degrees and sunny in DC today?  Good work, Rachel.

5.  BFF4EVA and I are catching the bus to NYC tomorrow.  Everyone keeps asking me what our plans are for the Big Apple (as opposed to the Mini Apple from which we hail) and the answer is– I have no idea.  Louisa and I have been together long enough to know the drill.  I handle logistics, she handles entertainment.

6.  Normally when we travel together all we do is get lost.  And then we get frustrated.  And then thirsty.  And end up pissing the day away at the first dive bar we can find and forgetting to everything.  We’re trying to avoid that this trip.  She’s got a schedule and I’ve got comfortable walking shoes and a sworn promise that I’ll have to spend no more than 5 hours in a museum.

7.  My friend Gigi goes over to my grandfather’s house once or twice a week to make him dinner.  The other night my grandfather looked at Gigi’s fiance Alex and said, “You like that food? It’s really good – a friend of mine made it. I think you’d like her.”

After he killed himself laughing he said, “oh shit, that’s funny” and went back to his ice cream.  The best man on earth, y’all.  I’m telling you.

8.  I took a GRE online practice test the other day and it didn’t go well, guys.  Anyone know of grad programs that don’t require that stupid test?  Because I think that’s my next plan.  For real– who uses the word mendicant in a sentence EVER?  It means beggar, by the way.

9.  Taking the day off work tomorrow– back Monday with either wild stories about how Lou and I tore up the town OR stories about how we walked in circles for three days straight.  Which we did once.  The Chicago Loop was really confusing when we were 18.

10. Late on the draw, as per usual.


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I’m back!

Remember when you used to blog and shit?  Yeah, I faintly recall.  I’ve been trying to dig out after the Thanksgiving holiday and recover from all the family bonding and tryptophan.  I’ve also been listening to Florence + The Machine on repeat, which I thought you’d be interested to know.


I’d like to issue a formal apology to Bree.  I must retract ALL of the sarcasm behind this sentence:  I’m happy to report that we’re now the proud owners of $80 worth of organic, freedom-tasting, free-range turkey that was hand-fed grains, did yoga twice a day and was slaughtered with love.

Because let me tell you, homie, that organic hippie turkey was melt-in-your-mouth delicious.  Like I’ll-not-complain-about-grocery-shopping-at-Whole-Foods-next-year delicious.  All of my hats off to our Thanksgiving chef.  Don’t you worry, Bree, we’ll be back next year.  And I’d also like to mention– whoever made the brussel sprouts did a FABULOUS job.


My  brothers came, they saw, they ate everything in my fridge and they departed.  It’s comforting to know that nothing ever changes with those two boys.  They sleep until noon, they touch all of your shit, attempt to steal some of your shit and then smile and nuzzle their head adorably against your shoulder until they get what they want (money, a snack, beer).

Little Timmy Tat will be graduating college in March and I’m very proud of him.  Knowing Tim’s luck, he’ll be offered a job the day he graduates making 60K a year with health care benefits and an office with a door that shuts and his pick of purebred puppy without spending one agonizing minute staring at job listings contemplating stripping or selling his eggs.

And as for19 year old Jack- the words “med school” came out of his mouth this weekend without a hint of sarcasm or irony.  Tim and I both hung our heads in shame.  Kudos, Jack, for being the smartest child.  We really appreciate you choosing a career that comes with the perk of  a prescription pad.  Thanks, pal.


Louisa is turning 25 this weekend and I correctly thought the pleasure of my company for 4 days would be the perfect gift.  And someone needs to pour the whiskey during the initial moments of her quarter life crisis.  Lou and her lovely boyfriend Nate have recently started living in sin and I’ll be their first official house guest.

Nate is my favorite of all the boyfriends because he’s already acknowledged and accepted the fact that even though he and Louisa are shacked up, the odds of him being kicked out of his own bed and sent to the guest room for the weekend are pretty good.  Because there is nothing Lou and I like more then drinking wine out of the bottle in bed after a long, hard night at the bar.  Don’t judge us– we’re still young.

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The Ta

Friday I came fairly close to losing my shit at the office, which is why I failed to mention that I’d be departing for Wichita, Kansas on Sunday and most likely be absent from the internets for a couple of days.

Josephina was concerned after one entire day without a single g chat conversation and texted me in panic.  When I responded that I was stuck in the Wichita Hyatt playing Angry Birds and staring at the clock, she responded– I disprove.  You should only be in Kansas if you are buying cattle. 

I’m inclined to agree, although I can’t say I had the worst time in Kansas.  I flew in a day early to meet my friend Spano from college.  She currently lives about 2 hours away from Wichita in Lawrence and was kind enough to make the trek to The Ta or Whichittie as it is fondly called to spend the day with me.

We went straight from the airport to the first bar we could find open on a Sunday and spent a marvelous afternoon drinking bloody marys in the sunshine, catching up and most importantly– making BFF4EVA Louisa jealous.

The three of us were a bit of a tripod in college and spent countless (and I truly mean countless) hours on bar patios and back porches drinking beer, smoking cigarettes and congratulating one another on being so awesome.  Being that our activities that day in Wichita were about the same, we decided to text Louisa as often as we could.

It started out pretty standard–  I took a picture of Spano and she took a picture of me.  We took pictures of the bloody marys and then the mimosas.  A picture of a gigantic stuffed reindeer.

Louisa responded to demand we quit having fun without her, which only encouraged us.  We let her know we bought her a gift.

And that we were going to stop having fun right after we drank this wine out of a styrofoam cup in our hotel room.  At our hotel that had indoor mini golf.

And then eat a delicious dinner– at one point in our young lives, our favorite.

Then do some light reading.

It was at this point that I may or may not have sent her a picture of my cleavage, but I surely will not post that on the internet.  The majority of Louisa’s responses were along the lines of “suck it!” and “stop it!” and “please come help me pack”, which Spano and I felt deemed our mission a great success.

More about Wichita tomorrow.  I’ve got fucking work to do.  Peace.

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Welcome, have a fruit roll-up!


Doin’ the Grown-up is new and (moderately) improved! I cracked open my piggy bank, bought my very own website for the low low cost of $25 per year and then spent the rest of the afternoon wondering how someone my age could be so crap at technology.

After about 2 hours of staring at my computer yesterday messing with the new website, I once again learned life lesson #345: One must never fuck with their own HTML code when one got a B- in HTML class & often kicked out for smelling like beer.

I signed up for the World Wide Web class to fulfill a science requirement my second year of college, figuring that would be easier for me to comprehend than biology. The professor was a dorky tech nerd with big glasses and a receding hairline who often wore his jump drive on a rope around his neck. It is very hard to take someone seriously when they do that.

Louisa and I conveniently had a 2 hour window between when she got off work and I had to be in WWW class and often met at the local pub where her boyfriend tended bar. One afternoon we’d consumed one too many afternoon beers– as the professor leaned over my desk to help me find the error in my web page, I accidentally burped, making it quite obvious that I had Miller High Life for lunch.

The professor and I stared at each other for a whole minute. “I think I’m going to leave, ” I said, saving and closing out of my document.

He shook his head. “I think that’s a good idea.” Needless to say, I didn’t excel. There was a rookie from my rugby team in my class and while we were not into hazing per se, I did forcibly make her explain HTML code to me for the duration of the quarter. And I still never learned.


With our new and improved website, you’re able subscribe for e-mail alerts when there is a new post, as well as leave comments. I do ask that you are kind with your comments, as I have a lot of feelings (floors and floors of feelings) and wouldn’t come up into your work and tell you that you make crap pastries, or your lawyering skills blow or that you are really really bad at math. At least not your face– so please be nice.

I hope everyone enjoys the long weekend. My cousin Josephina is coming into town from Hot-lanta, so we’ll be BBQing and drinking and sight seeing like mother fuckers. See you back here bright and early Tuesday morning.

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