the only way we can be friends

1. you like cilantro. and tell me my guacamole is the best you’ve ever had (unrelated but important)

2. you cry watching the olympics. only heartless people aren’t emotionally moved by DREAMS COMING TRUE

3. you’ve shamelessly rubbed a magazine perfume sample on your wrist to ‘road test it.’

4. you will never make me tell a story/joke in front of a group if i don’t want to.

5. but you laugh at most of my jokes.

6. you don’t have a wedding pinterest board unless you are engaged/a wedding planner.

7. you don’t take it personally that i am on average 7 minutes late everywhere i go.

Well, I think that about sums it up.

L

What are your friendship dealbreakers?

Things I Have Over-Romanticized in My Head But Never Done: Had Haters

Well we all know this isn’t entirely true. I’m sure there are some naysayers lingering around somewhere but for the sake of this series, haters, please stay hidden thanks a mil.

So sure, I get a negative comment on my nail art on Instagram here or there (or, eem, 70% of the time) and I often get confused looks/tweets about my jokes.

(And since you’re wondering, yes, I’m a hero and survivor and I get knocked down but I get up again.*)

But I havent really ever had people not believe in me (SNORE.)

And, as I was trolling through some old musings from back in 09…I see that I wrote about a similar thing. And since I’m a green/local/organic writer, I thought I’d upcycle an excerpt:

As I have finally started to make leeway in my career endeavors, part of me wishes I had someone from my past who never believed I would achieve my dreams. Someone whose face I could then rub my small samplings of success in. Listening to the  lyrics of “Gives You Hell” the other day made my mind spin as I tried conjuring up images of old coworkers or classmates shaking their heads and saying “You’ll never do it!” All I ended up coming up with was visions of me slamming down a copy of the Onion in someone’s face and screaming, “Remember me?!!!” and then kicking a garbage can.

Look at me. So sweet. PS I’m pretty sure “career endeavors” at that time meant writing for that website for free, and possibly just landing my first Red Eye piece which paid a whopping $50. Ah, young love.

In conclusion, maybe haters can wait. So in the meantime everyone be really nice to me and laugh at all my jokes thanks so much!

LR

*thanks, Bert for the chumbawumba reference.

Things I Have Over-Romanticed in My Head but Never Done: Released Paper Lanterns Into the Sky

I wrote a paper on Mulan my senior year in college.

Now lest you think I was a slacker or simply enrolled in a pretend college where I chartered my own sorority, I can explain.

I was a film major (don’t get my parents started.)

And it was one of my last classes and I’m almost sure it was called ‘Women in Asian American Film,’ so, yeah, what would you write about? Exactly.

BUT back to me (what?). Mulan got me thinking (how many thousands of people have said this before?) about one of my most romanticized-about activities: releasing paper lanterns into the sky.

I’ve never done it. Not at a wedding. On a beach. Off of a rooftop. Nowhere!

Maybe I’d make a wish and watch it sparkle into the night sky and it’d be so beautiful I wouldn’t even waste time instagramming it I would just remember it in my head and heart forever. Or maybe it’d be a sisterhood of the traveling pants kind of moment and a group of us would all set the sky lanterns free with some sort of group intention followed by midnight yoga. Maybe it’d be a stop along my own Eat Pray Love journey or book tour (of which Annie and I have agreed to co-write and call Tweet, Pray, Lovehandles.)

I don’t know what would happen, but it would be magical, and Mulan would be proud.

Things I Have Over-Romanticized in My Head but Never Done: Met the Man of My Dreams When I’m at My Worst

You know the scene.

Girl has just gone on like a 6 mile, sweaty run. Or fell in a giant puddle. Or spilled an entire coffee down the front of her shirt. Or is dressed like Rachael Leigh Cook in ‘She’s All That.’

Enter: man of her dreams who sees through her clumsiness/overalls/spillage and asks her to dinner for that Saturday night.

Boom.

Except, IRL it’s more like me running out of the house in sweats and glasses to grab snacks to bring to Nichole’s house and right behind me in line is a cute guy buying firewood for what i’m sure is a sexy bonfire and there I am with Baked Lays and a bottle of ranch dressing (I can explain) (No I can’t.)

Now in a dream/movie world, this is the part where he would look at my purchases and make a playful comment and we’d joke about the ice cream I was buying (yep, left that one out earlier) and we’d be all “Woah pretzels in ice cream? That’s crazy < ha ha flirt, wink>” and he’d be all, “We should go out sometime, or why don’t you and your Hidden Valley ranch come over and I’ll build us a roaring fire that will be symbolic of the love growing between us.”

Instead my checkout lady asks if I want my chips bagged separately so as to keep them from being crushed by my ice cream (and sense of shame).

And I, of course, say yes and thank you.

And then I run out.

In my slippers. (Did I forget to mention that part too?)

Lucky for me, disaster situations find me everywhere so I’m bound to be at the right one at the right time, yeah?

yeah.

Things I Have Over-Romanticized in My Head but Never Done: Thrown a Drink In Someone’s Face

To date, no one has offended me to the point of making me feeling so inclined as to waste the five dollars I’ve spent on my drink on their stupid face.

But should someone ever call me the B word, or steal my boyfriend or outfit or say something mean about my sister, you better believe I will throw my drink in their face just like I’ve seen in the movies.

And for one glorious moment, I will feel really justified and victorious.

But then, knowing me, I will apologize profusely and awkwardly wipe at their face/shirt and offer to buy them a new drink.

So, everyone wins. And by everyone I mean no one.

Cheers!

Things I Have Over-Romanticized in My Head but Never Done: Lived Alone

Maybe it’s because I just watched Manhattan. Maybe it’s because I’m feeling extra independent and Beyonce lately. Maybe it’s because I’m finally all growed up.

But when I think about the years and years I’ve spent with roommates, there’s something really romantic about the idea of living alone.

I picture myself like Nora Ephron living in the Apthorp with a door guy and my favorite Chinese takeout place memorized and me just lounging around in oversized sweatshirts and crew socks and I guess this is NYC in the 80s?

Maybe I’d start a Pinterest board called “studio living” with a breakfast nook table and a rolling kitchen island and other adorable space-savers, maybe I’d keep a lot of good wine around just because, maybe I’d repaint my bedroom at midnight blasting The Temptations Pandora station because who is gonna complain when I am my own roommate? Huh?

Exactly.

Things I Have Over-Romanticized in My Head but Never Done: Sincerely Drank Whiskey

I know.

What kind of person am I that I think about things like this? Believe me, I’m pondering this more than you are.

But, alas, I yam what I yam.

And I really think that whiskey is the cool chick’s drink. But only if she is not trying to be cool. Like, if she knows her stuff and drinks it slowly and savors it and is like, “What? This ‘ol thing?” So….yeah, not me. YET.

My friend Anna is always like, “I’ll have a (some nice whiskey brand) and water please” and I’m all, “Y’ALL GOT AMSTEL LIGHT?”

I write that in caps and with poor grammar because that’s how I feel like I sound when I order something so uncouth compared to Ms Bourbon McCooltime (her Christian name.)

So, add it to the bucket list and just ye wait…I’ll be a whiskey drinker yet.

Some call me a dreamer,

L.

Things I Have Over-Romanticized in My Head but Never Done: Been too Sad to Eat

My life has not always been this glamorous and easy. Ok mostly it has. But I, too, feel pain and have been through some not-so-breezy seasons in my life. There’s even proof in the dusty back halls of this blog. But. But! I don’t think I’ve ever been too sad to eat. And that is one of my goals. Ok jk, jk, Life (and crisis helplines and the concerned citizens brigade of social media/america) I don’t wanna be that sad. But I have always over-romanticized  the idea of being like, “What is this?!?! That’s disgusting” when a friend brought over ice cream (and, knocking it out of their well-meaning hands and onto the floor). Or “I can’t even look at that,” when sympathy pizza is delivered. It just feels like something girls do on TV that I have yet to experience. And everyone would be like, “We should at least get her to try soup,” and I’d begrudgingly oblige but I wouldn’t enjoy it. Not one bit.

Things I Have Over-Romanticized in My Head but Never Done: Table for One

This may be a “You’ve Got Mail” thing, because I think Meg Ryan eats by herself at some point and it feels really urban and adult, but I’ve never had the opportunity or inertia to go out to a proper meal by myself.

Maybe I’d sit at the bar with a good book and strike up rich conversation with another deep soul such as myself, maybe I’d order bourbon or whiskey or something neat or straight up or other bar terms I don’t use because I drink wine, or maybe I’d rediscover a part of myself I once thought lost. Whatever happened I know it would be life-changing and cinematic, so, godspeed to me and also, bon apetite.

p.s. don’t google image ‘table for one’ it will take all of the wind out of your dramatic sails.

p.p.s. I have considered naming my first memoir “Table for Fun.” See what I did there?

Things I Have Over-Romanticized in My Head but Never Done: Beach Bonfires

I blame every episode I once religiously watched of the O.C.and/or when I found out Rosemary Beach offered bonfire services and/or that one Nicholas Sparks movie but I am convinced that a beach bonfire is the place where all of my dreams will come true slash my real, exotic life will finally start.

Maybe it’s the oversized boyfriend sweater I’ll be wearing over my freshly tanned beach bod, or the paper lanterns we’ll inevitably release into the salty night air (paper lanterns to be discussed later in the series, duh) or maybe it’s the handsome stranger who comes over to my beach blanket to point out the star he just named after me, but I think it would probably be the pinnacle of my young life. And I say young because I’m not 30 yet, so back off.