in the 101

melodey: my dad is great. he's crazy, but he's great.
me: why?
melodey: because he just sent me an email. first, he attached a picture and said, "hey. thinking about you today. i miss you, have a good day. love, dad."
me: well, what was the picture of?
melodey: randy travis......

never a dull moment between cousins. and uncle larry.

hot DAY-um. hooray for hollywood.

for me, angelina stole the show. 

...minus the bizarre leg showing thing.

angie. we get it. you're provocative, whatever. now close your legs.

anyway. 

the black velvet versace strapless, the peep toe, red lips, and hollywood curls...

i loved it all.

this is a totally mature thing for me to be admitting; i hate the jolie-pitts with everything inside of me.

my other fave was kate mara's dusty rose elie saab number. 

i was pretty obsessed with that one.

the beading was a-mahhhhzing.

[shout out to all my happy endings peeps!]

[other mentionables were shailene woodley, kristin wiig, and jessica chastain.]

what did i hate?

yes, i venture to say. 

puppy dog under the tree christmas morning?

i think so. 

yeesh.

and the classiest couple?

and even if she's just another toy on clooney's shelf,

she sure looks phenomenal on his arm.

...which, i won't lie, i'd be down for.

last but not least, 

the night's most awkward moments were obvious: 

first, sasha cohen, hollywood's biggest disappointment, covering ryan seacrest with nasty ashes... 

soooo awkward. 

"i just wish i could bake him sympathy cookies."--amy kearns.

 

and second, 

cameron diaz and j-lo should never be allowed to present at the academy awards ever again...

no wit, and a nip-slip. 

plus, trying too hard.

 
it. was. a niiiiiightmare.

and of course the night had its glory moments.

like octavia spencer's acceptance speech,

james franco and anne hathaway not hosting,

emma stone and ben stiller's banter,

and the artist stealing the show. 

all in all, a wonderful night for the academy.

and pop culture junkies like me.

we wish we dreamt of sugar plums.

needless to say, this week dominated us.
and we're all so tired silly that it hurts.

here's to tomorrow being friday.

they made me do it.

sorry i'm so obsessed, okay?!

where the wind comes whipping down the plains.

ooooooklahoma.
my weekend was wonderful.

i hopped on a plane to oklahoma city and was greeted by a few of my favorite people. i'd take a sibling reunion any day of the week.

we drove around our old stomping grounds in edmond, and toured the place we all grew up. we spoke with old neighbors still in the neighborhood, and played in the creek behind our house. we talked about blood park and visited the theater where we saw titanic and twister for the first time. even as a five year old, i was toted along for both. hilarious. we climbed trees, did tricks on the swings, and walked the air force base. it was a regular weekend for winners. and children.

dear siblings: i like these growing up tours. virginia next weekend? :)

now, here are too many pictures.

all you haters quit hating.

courtney robertson. i like her. a lot, actually. she's a vengeful slut. which benjamin fully deserves so, i say, we give him what he wants. for we must remember that it never works out anyway. let's keep giving her the rose.

to the land of garthy b. and brothers.

spending my holiday with two brothers and two sissies (possibly three: julie-sis, if you're reading this, you'd better rethink your bail...). it will be a weekend fit for presidents. which is rather fitting. i even versed myself in some "thunder rolls" and "friends in low places" to prepare myself, as any once-upon-an-oklahoman would.

enid, i'm coming for you!

he liked country music,

"and i could have listened to you all night."



and i never tip-toed.

for the love.

"we will always write about love because it is so big. and we will keep trying to write about it because we will keep trying to understand it, keep trying to feel it, to share it! a noun, a verb, so intangible, we keep trying."
--my brilliant lit professor, upon reading a second draft of his wife's valentine present.

and i found myself not overcome by a bow tie, straight teeth, or musician hands. my soul sang to this: a forty year old man who has written a love poem for his valentine for twenty years, and calls her middle age her most captivating.

i love love.

and also, good news: newly single ashton kutcher said he'd be my valentine. and if you judge either one of us for that, well, we don't like you either.

the permas.

i tried to go to the gym today.

i laced up my tennis shoes, pinned my hair up, even stretched!
and then my headphones were m.i.a. ...
...which was an outrage.
so i went to buy new shampoo instead.
it was so me of me.

and on the drive home from walmart, i broke open a box of frosted flakes.
because i'm on a perma-tired kick, and perma-tireds are allowed to make command decisions like that.

this is probably only funny if you like... LOOOOVE art.

so, it's pretty effective for me. 

i'm totally her.

and by the way, getting discouraged because netflix no longer has father of the bride on instant cue is a valid reason to sob. okay, no it's not. but pre-surfing the crimson wave definitely is.
it is also reason enough to justify buying the complete F.O.B. set on amazon.
which i also did.

i think i have been perma-tired for about two weeks now.
which i'm just going to pretend is healthy.

tired people.
we make loser decisions.
but we go to bed before midnight.
so lay off of us.

happy birthday to the coolest guy in town.

happy 200th birthday, charlie!

thank you for being birthed [awkward phrasing], and thank you tenfold for writing great expectations.

it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.

i'll celebrate tonight by attending a charles dickens seminar at the city library.

because i just love birthdays.

what will you do to commemorate the life of mr. dickens?

HIRED.

bring on cheesy grins, collared shirts, long pants, name tag, and spiritual thursdays.
they liked me, the really liked me!

can't wait! :)

i recall... central park in fall.

"i mean, really, what's the point? i'm not european. i don't plan on being european. so who gives a crap if they're socialists? they could be fascist anarchists, it still doesn't change the fact that I don't own a car."

...brilliant material, here.

with one thousand kisses.

i am saint valentine's biggest supporter.
therefore, i insist on decorating like... pronto, and baking strawberry cupcakes for no reason at all.
because i'm alllllllllll about lover's month.

bueller... bueller...

finally, i'm the proud owner.

i plan on spending plenty of time with cameron, sloane, ferris, and mr. rooney this glorious weekend.

"pardon my french, but you, sir, are an..." :)

[...]

devastatingly beautiful, and perfectly tragic.

and the masochist inside of me looks so forward to the day it becomes relevant to my life.

 listen.

read.

"and heaven forbid, feel."
via

if you haven't purchased your copy of this album yet, you're not doing anyone any favors.

...and did i mention that i get to rendezvous with miss michaelson again? so what if i bought my ticket 3 months early. 

that's dedication, ya'll.