Sell me marriage.

Here's the thing:
I'm the Natalie Keener in our twisted little story,

and my love's too big for you.

CALLING ALL

skin care routines. My ProActiv stopped working and I'm not jazzed about it. I haven't been able to get an appointment with my dermatologist because the wait list for that guy is UNREAL. There's this green tea moisturizer that used to work wonders on my combination skin, but lately, my face has been an episode that I'm not hot into revisiting. I'm looking for home remedies, hard products, and the dirty details of your pore healing miracles. So, if you've got a skin care thaaaang that makes you warm and fuzzy, give me a holler back, cool?

Also, if you find a way to make life un-stressful, give me another holler. I have been so tired lately that I've seriously considered putting Diet Coke in my tea... which doesn't make sense, I KNOW (but sort of, does it kind of make sense to you, or no?)

Writing, k?

I'm going to write funny stuff someday (maybe).

And I just need to reveal that I started writing something that's coming together, something of book. That's real. I don't know what I'm doing or where it's going to go, but jsyk, that's what I'm up to.

I've taken a few different classes on American culture, and if I were to pick a new emphasis in my field of study, (Currently an English, Creative Writing student if you didn't know) I would've chosen American Studies. Last semester, I took an early colonial American culture class and it kicked my butt, but I got an A because I was genuinely interested in it. We talked a lot about writing styles of our culture and how they have evolved through time. One particular Monday, we discussed the role of comedy within a given culture. We began with contemporary American comedy (this), worked our way backward (this), even further back (this), and finished with an eighteenth century Native American Trickster Tale (this). The Trickster Tales were imaginative and didn't make sense to my twenty-first century brain, but the discussion was fascinating as we picked apart the different characteristics of the piece that would've read hilarious to the Navajo culture. The novelty of Michael Scott isn't appreciated worldwide. Third world countries could not possibly understand a middle-class American boss who proves personal ignorance time and time again. His inappropriate jokes wouldn't even read vulgar! They would translate directly, and because the culture hasn't been trained to appreciate quick, dry humor the way we have, they wouldn't even giggle. Chris Farley as a Chippendale? Why is that funny? Because our culture holds exotic dancers to an unwritten standard that a heavy-set, shirtless man can never and will never be able to achieve. Again, we've been trained to think this way. When Chris Farley competes against American heartthrob, Patrick Swayze, for a Chippendale slot it is wildly funny.   "Whatchoo talkin' bout, Willis?" is funny because it's a grown up phrase, said like a grown up, by a small child. And when we use it now, are we really asking Willis what he is talking about? Do we care? No, we're making a popular cultural reference to an episode of the 1970s American sitcom, and we're saying, "I don't get it." We find humor in all of that because we understand where it comes from.

On a similar thread, I love Gilmore Girls. I've always been irritated by people who, throughout the years, have poked fun at the back and forth, mile-a-minute banter. I've heard people say things about the way nobody speaks in references, and witty banter isn't real life. I, however, have always believed that the show is written flawlessly. Its quick wit and detailed pop culture references, if you understand the culture they come from, are genius... trick is, you have to be educated and you have to pay attention. Today, I laugh at everyone who told me Gilmore Girls was a stupid show written for stupid girls. If you've been paying any attention at all to primetime television over the last decade, there isn't one show that doesn't use elements of pop culture, and most of the sitcoms have quick, almost un-catchable witty banter written into them: The Mindy Project, New Girl, Modern Family, Up All Night, Happy Endings (ended wayyyy too soon), Psych, Scrubs... shall I continue to make my point, or are we all on the same page? Point is, American comedy is transforming at a rapid pace and we're all making smarter television choices.

Did I lose you?

Tonight, I was trying to explain to my mother how Jimmy Fallon is going to return The Tonight Show to the comedic phenomenon it was when Johnny Carson carried it two decades ago. She didn't agree with me. She said that he'd never be Johnny Carson because everyone loved Johnny Carson and the time period was different. I explained the above to her, that comedy was changing and would continue to change, and made the bold statement that Jimmy Fallon is to our generation what Johnny Carson was to hers. Also, I made her sit down with me and watch it.

Didn't even take five minutes for her to crack a smile.

MAKE ME YOUR APHRODITE.

Today I drove in a TORRENTIAL DOWNPOUR, y'all.

Last semester, I had a professor tell me that if you're writing things about people and none of those people are worried about how your writing will make other perceive them, you're not doing a very good job at writing the truth. I thought about that a lot today, and I'm pretty sure I'm writing in the most honest, unabashed way I know how.

I took these snap selfies yesterday in my bed while I was watching the episode of New Girl where Nick tells Jess he loves her and as a response, she shoots him two finger guns. It put me in the dumbest mood, but was worth it because it produced these pictures. If you want to be my SnapChat friend, I'm not surprised.

Did you all see Jeremy Abbot's performance tonight for the men's short program competition?! That guy is unreal. I'm insanely inspired by his courage to peel himself from the ice, injuries and all, and finish his skate. Definition of an Olympic champion and I think we can learn a plethora of metaphorical lessons through his triumph. Here it is if you're into it. Also, since we're talking about the Olympics, it was a Team USA sweep on the podium for the slope style competition. I shed tears and sang along. That star spangled banner gets me every time.

I worked my quads like mad this week at the gym and they've been sore for a few days. None of this would be a problem if I wasn't going skiing tomorrow, but I am. So, that should be interesting.

I rushed home from Logan to see my brother, sister-in-law, and nephew for a few minutes before they left for Sacramento, which is where they're stationed. My brother is in the Air Force and it's the thing in my life that I'm most proud of. I love my military family and the way they're all so damn honorable all the time. THREE CHEERS FOR AMERICA. Obviously, I loved seeing my nephew, Graham, too. He is the chubbiest little thing and he's got three dimples, so, I don't need to continue on about how cute he is. You just should get it. Also, my sister-in-law bought him this hat and when she put it on him, I just couldn't. Like, physically, I COULD NOT.

I got a new iPhone today and I feel like a brand new person. I can't explain it. You know that Bernini sculpture in Rome? Ecstasy of Saint Teresa? I thought I understood her so much before, but now, I get her. As I was making my purchase, images of that sculpture ran through my head. Divinity intruding on an earthly body? That was me in the T-Mobile store with the phone guy, Evan. He handed me the phone and ECSTASY ENSUED.

On my drive home, I was thinking about two things: 1) how T-Pain always seems to find me when I'm stuck in traffic with no more Pandora skips and it puts me in a bad mood and 2) Dark Horse by Katy Perry is so underrated. Go listen to it.

I watched a video that had Michael Kors in it and I got goosebumps, no joke.



I GOTTA GO TO SLEEP BECAUSE SKIING HAPPENS IN THE MORNING AND I PROMISED MY FRIEND, TAYLOR, THAT I WAS GOING TO SKI BACKWARDS LIKE THEY DO IN THE OLYMPICS, SO SRSLY I HAVE TO GO. (P.S. Hey, Taylor.)

A few reasons why you don't have to make exceptions for idiots.

In an attempt to get out of my writing funk, I have solicited the help of my friends.

I'm calling this things we've heard idiots say.

Here are a few of my favorites:

“Is it hot in here? Your hand is a little sweaty.” (This boy looked like Ben Affleck and we thought he seemed promising. Turns out he was the worst.)

“Me and the boys have been talking and we think you’ve lost weight in your face!” (Classic male "compliment".)

“I found this Activia at work and it made me think of you girls.” (Creepy neighbor. The other day at the gym he followed me to the mats and watched me do sit ups. Yikes.)

“You’re a cool girl.” (I will never forget this nightmare doorstep scene.)

“Hey, are you home?” (5x every day. Usually brings cookies to the door. They are never for me...)

*Pats on the head “You remind me so much of my sister.” (The horror!)

“I’m on the fence about you.” (Never stick around a man who doesn't know how he feels about you. Because he's never going to figure that out, and you'll wonder forever if you stay.)

(On Valentine’s Day) “Oh, I left my wallet. Do you got this?" (Grammatically incorrect and tacky. Also, he wore white sunglasses, so.)

Any and ALL  boys named Brady.

“Do you want to go to dinner? We should just meet there.” (Translation: I don't really want to go on a date. I'll buy you food, but please don't call me again.)

“Why would you go on a second date with me? I'm pathetic.” (Lack of confidence killed the cat.)

“We should do something sometime soon.” (Yeah! Maybe when you stop using vague measurements of time.)

“You’re totally a nice weight. You go to the gym every day, don’t you?” (The way to a girl's heart: weight talk at the dinner table.)

“How tall are you?!”

“I like the lines on your skin.”

“Your hair would look better if you stopped showering.” (Sexy!)

“You have a pretty big butt for your height!" (Not even hiding the fact that his mind is somewhere else.)

“I think you might have some hair above your lip.” (My high school boyfriend once.)

“You look better when you don’t get ready.” (Thank you for discrediting the hours I spent previous to this date, trying to impress you.)

“You actually look pretty thin in those pants!” (As opposed to how I usually look in other pants? You're a dream come true.)

“You’re a good bud.” (This, I can't even talk about.)

*Grabs love handles “Stop! Why are you grabbing my fat!” “Love handles are good! I think they are attractive.” (Creepy.)

“You sport a variety of sexy hairstyles.” (Before you say something on a date, it will help you to say to yourself, IS THIS COMMENT NECESSARY AND WHO IS IT BENEFITTING.)

“I’m breaking up with you. But I want us to act exactly the way we did when we were together, but we won’t be dating.” (Every boy who ever existed in the universe, ever.)

“If you were shorter, we would have totally hooked up.” (I have a tall friend. All of the ones about being tall belong to her. They're priceless.)

A boy in high school used to refer to my friend, Kelsey, as “Dome Thumbs” and never by her actual name, which is extremely sexy and a turn on. 

“I never thought my wife would’ve had bigger legs than me.” –said to my friend by a man who didn’t marry my friend.

“I imagined my wife to be taller.” –said by the same man who didn’t marry my friend.

“I don’t know if it’s the spirit or what, but I had to call.” (I'm not kidding. This happened to me.)

“I’m so glad you don’t have big ears.” (Great compliment. Keep them coming.) 

AREN'T YOU GLAD YOU READ THIS FAR? DID YOU JUST GAIN SO MUCH VALUABLE INFORMATION?!

I'm going to leave you with this. Because I think it has so many wonderful insights into the life of a twenty-something single woman. Which, I'm assuming, is a category a good majority of you fall into. 

Dating is hard. It is not fun and it hurts. There are no rules and sometimes you want to crawl into your bed and spend the rest of your life eating non-fat rice chips, watching beauty tutorials on YouTube (my coping method), but you are better than that, and one day, you're going to find a match who's not the biggest idiot, dick, douchebag, A-hole, fill-in-the-blank in the world, and life will be bliss. I don't promise, though. In the mean time, let's laugh at the stupid crap boys say and pretend like it doesn't keep us coming back for more.

A cry for you not to marry me.

                                           I think I may be really good at wife things. 

          P.S. today, at church, I listened to one too many mission stories, so please, just...

                                                  leave me be. I want to die alone.

Inspiration to run with.

I can't get any writing done, and it's weird for me. Like, nothing. The other day, I sat at the library for hours and couldn't get anything written. Lately, nothing happens when I get in front of the computer screen.

I'm going through this phase in my life where I'm not happy with the way things are. I think it has a lot to do with the fact that I live in a place that can't do very much for me. I'm graduating in just a semester  and after that, it's hit the ground running time. And you know, it's very frustrating because so many people tell me that I've got all of this potential, but I haven't the slightest idea what to do with it. Do you know what that feels like? It feels like I'd be an idiot to go back to where I came from, which is my parents' basement.

I'm bright. I try to talk myself out of thinking that a lot, but I know that I am. I am intelligent. I don't mean book smart, I mean culturally, I know a lot of things. Probably about celebrities, I know mostly all of the things. And sometimes I'm funny. I'm not stand up comedian funny by any means. My friends are far better with off-the-cuff jokes than I'll ever be, and I know that. But get me in a room by myself, I can write up a damn fine page of wit. That's what I'm good at; that's what I love. I'm a grammar wizard. Sometimes I mess up, obviously, don't hold it against me, but I've got an ear and an eye for all things words, and it's probably my only talent. Also, I am so good at baking. I don't know.

I know that I want a family some day. I know that I want a husband, a few kids, a garden, a car that doesn't have 300,000 miles on it, but before all of that, I think I want to test myself out and see what I can do on my own. I'm thirsty for the thrill that comes from hard work and long hours in a writer's room.

So, I have been watching A LOT of The Office. And if you've been reading this blog over the past month, you know that. And I'm sorry that it's all I ever talk about. I think my roommates are ready for the obsession to end because I literally can't go ten minutes without referencing that one time Michael had a funeral for the bird that flew into the glass window, or the episode where Dwight starts a fire so he can have a drill and Angela throws her cat up in the ceiling. I've met a few people who've told me "That's what she said" had a fun run, but it's over, and I just can't agree with it. There will never be a time when that's not a funny one-liner. I'm sorry. It's a comedy classic, and if you don't get that, I don't really think you get the comedy our culture has created. Anyway, tonight, I watched the bonus special that was on just before the series finale aired last spring, and at the very end, John Krasinski says that he hopes one day, someone will create something big and they'll be able to say that it was "The Office" that  inspired them. And friends, I'm going to do it. Because dream like nobody's watching, or maybe that's not the phrase, but do it anyway because you want to and it sounds good.

Also, I cried multiple times while watching this video. AND THAT'S OKAY.