Saturday Night. 8:45 PM. I’m sitting on my balcony, alone, with nothing but a six pack of Red Stripe to keep me company. It’s finally not raining and I’m thankful I can see the sky and feel a completely unseasonal cool breeze. I’m positive there are things I could be doing and friends I could be hanging out with, but somewhere in the chaos of New York it feels nice to be alone and not speak with anything but my fingertips.
I don’t regret much, but I do regret my mouth and my heart and the world of hurt they’ve both brought raining down upon me in the past month. If I could un-love him I would. If I could find a way to be happy just being his friend I would, too. It was a long hard fall, learning I’d once again misread the signs and given my full self to someone who neither wanted nor deserved it. So I’ll open up to you, Cyberspace, and apologize to the Universe for the tangled mess I’ve become. I have completely unraveled.
One year ago and a few days ago, Lori was here. (Lori is now pregnant and in Georgia – two things I both love for her and hate for me.) One year ago, I made the promise I make every year – that this was finally going to be my year and I’d finally conquer this whole love thing. One year ago, I honestly believed that by the time I reached the point I’m at right now, I would no longer be alone. Lori rolled her eyes and reminded me that I say that every year.
Birthdays stop being fun when you start to approach your scary age. 27 is my scary age. It now looms a short 5 days away, and Unraveled Alison must now step up to the plate and admit she is not where she wants to or thought she’d be. In all fairness, I am at least things I never thought I’d be and I won’t apologize for or doubt my successes, wherever they may lie.
When 27 arrives, I will make no promises. I will tell no one that this will finally be my year. I won’t open up my heart or gently place it on my sleeve for the universe to locate its partner. I am not going to let myself believe that I am actually any different than any of the other lost souls out there, hoping to figure it all out before it’s too late. My time will come when God is good and ready to give it to me, and no wishes placed on burning candles will ever change that.
This year I’ll only swear on the things I can deliver. I’ll be a better boss, a better daughter, a better neighbor, a better roommate, a better friend, and a better Alison. I won’t be selfish, but I will be self-aware. I’ll make the time anyone spends in my presence as pleasant, good-natured, and fun as possible. I may have done nothing wrong, but I sure don’t feel like I’ve done much right, either.
27 may be my scary year, but the world isn’t going to stop turning because I’m uncomfortable. And that’s all I have to say about that.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Monday, June 22, 2009
This ain't no love that's guiding me
I couldn't make this up if I tried.
Today at work, an older gentleman approached my desk. We got to talkin', and I couldn't help myself from inquiring about his thick Southern drawl. (Afterall, a girl from Alabama must find her people in this world.)
"Where you from, sir?" I posed.
"Baby. I'm from Bowlin' Green, Kentucky!"
(And though I'm usually not a fan of being referred to as "baby," especially by complete strangers, he was at least charming about it.) This lead to a whole discussion of all things Southern, and therefore all things good. He looked down and noticed my empty left ring finger.
"Baby, you single!" (It was definitely more of a statement than a question, even though I kind of believe things like that should be approached a liiiiiiittle more cautiously.)
"Let me see your palm." A demand, this time. I held out my left palm and he shrugged it off, motioning for my right. After a brief once-over, his face lit up as he marked with pen on my hand.
"See this? It should be up here. It's not. This tells me you are a very positive person. People whose lines go all the way up are ho-hum and hum-drum. You are not. Even when you're sad, you still remain positive."
I think I may have had to blink back a couple tears. My clouded expression probably didn't help my case.
"See that? Even now, you're sad about something but it don't matter - you're still just as positive as you can be."
Another pen mark, this time in the bottom center.
"Oh, and you're a healthy girl."
I, of course, muttered something under my breath about that ending with my healthy appetite.
Mr. Kentucky then tried to bid me adieu.
"Wait!" I pleaded. "You asked to see my hand because you seemed interested in the love side of things. What does my palm say about that?"
(Really, Alison? An old man reads your palm, tells you you're healthy and positive and now you're going to seek love advice from him?)
Relunctantly, he gathered my hand in his once more.
"Baby. You ain't got no love."
There we have it. I ain't got no love.
"This here hand is always changin', just like you," he continued. "But I wouldn't really be lookin' for much of anything there for another 6 or so months."
Given the things that have gone down in the past 3 weeks, he's absolutely right. And for some bizarre reason, I actually feel better. I have a timeline. Six months. I can't even begin to understand why, but perhaps these things happen for a reason. Perhaps my heart is currently shattered for some just cause and perhaps God sent me Mr. Kentucky today as some kind of messenger of things to come.
Baby, you ain't got no love.
But I'm positive that someday, I will.
Today at work, an older gentleman approached my desk. We got to talkin', and I couldn't help myself from inquiring about his thick Southern drawl. (Afterall, a girl from Alabama must find her people in this world.)
"Where you from, sir?" I posed.
"Baby. I'm from Bowlin' Green, Kentucky!"
(And though I'm usually not a fan of being referred to as "baby," especially by complete strangers, he was at least charming about it.) This lead to a whole discussion of all things Southern, and therefore all things good. He looked down and noticed my empty left ring finger.
"Baby, you single!" (It was definitely more of a statement than a question, even though I kind of believe things like that should be approached a liiiiiiittle more cautiously.)
"Let me see your palm." A demand, this time. I held out my left palm and he shrugged it off, motioning for my right. After a brief once-over, his face lit up as he marked with pen on my hand.
"See this? It should be up here. It's not. This tells me you are a very positive person. People whose lines go all the way up are ho-hum and hum-drum. You are not. Even when you're sad, you still remain positive."
I think I may have had to blink back a couple tears. My clouded expression probably didn't help my case.
"See that? Even now, you're sad about something but it don't matter - you're still just as positive as you can be."
Another pen mark, this time in the bottom center.
"Oh, and you're a healthy girl."
I, of course, muttered something under my breath about that ending with my healthy appetite.
Mr. Kentucky then tried to bid me adieu.
"Wait!" I pleaded. "You asked to see my hand because you seemed interested in the love side of things. What does my palm say about that?"
(Really, Alison? An old man reads your palm, tells you you're healthy and positive and now you're going to seek love advice from him?)
Relunctantly, he gathered my hand in his once more.
"Baby. You ain't got no love."
There we have it. I ain't got no love.
"This here hand is always changin', just like you," he continued. "But I wouldn't really be lookin' for much of anything there for another 6 or so months."
Given the things that have gone down in the past 3 weeks, he's absolutely right. And for some bizarre reason, I actually feel better. I have a timeline. Six months. I can't even begin to understand why, but perhaps these things happen for a reason. Perhaps my heart is currently shattered for some just cause and perhaps God sent me Mr. Kentucky today as some kind of messenger of things to come.
Baby, you ain't got no love.
But I'm positive that someday, I will.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Somethin' tells me I'm into somethin' good
Onto the next adventure!
This weekend, I decided it was high time I abused my job to all new heights. As in, 2000 feet in the air. So on Sunday afternoon, Megan, Jeff, Danielle and I hopped into a helicopter and went soaring over New York City. It was...breathtaking and remarkable and I loved every second. (As evidenced by the mouth agape in every. Single. Picture.)
See?
Monday, June 1, 2009
Calling out, somebody save me, I feel like I'm fading.
It's June 1st.
A new week, a new month, and a beautiful day at that.
I've always liked June 1st, because after June 1st comes July 1st, and after July 1st comes my birthday. And I love the new hope that each birthday brings because my curious self can't ever help but wonder if this will be the year I've been waiting for.
Perhaps I will approach 27 with a little more caution and tact than the previous 26 years, but something tells me the only thing I've ever gotten good at is being Alison which is to say, probably not. Alison does not reign it in, and Alison certainly does not bottle. Sometimes I wish I was better at these things, as a little control and a little mystery really never did anyone any harm.
My best friend once told me my life is a bad country song. I didn't believe her until now. I mean, if your life has to be a country song, one could at least hope it was a badass one like a Johnny Cash or a Patsy Cline. Nope. My life is of the bubble-gum country persuasion. Taylor Swift probably sings my song, and millions around the world delight in the tedium as it blasts through the airwaves. My life is Soap Opera Network, when I would really prefer Comedy Central.
(My best friend is honest and also right, and I wouldn't be much of anything without her and I typed the last paragraph as an attempt to return to my funny. Please take it as such.)
My best friend also gave me the most sound advice I've ever gotten today.
...but don't hold on the present hoping for the future
Hows about I just start holding the future accountable for all I know it will be, instead?
It's clear this conversation
Ain't doin' a thing
Cause these boys only listen to me when I sing
And I don't feel like singing tonight
All the same songs
Here, in these deep city lights
Girl could get lost tonight
I'm finding every reason to be gone
Nothing here to hold on to
Could I hold you?
(Sara Bareilles)
A new week, a new month, and a beautiful day at that.
I've always liked June 1st, because after June 1st comes July 1st, and after July 1st comes my birthday. And I love the new hope that each birthday brings because my curious self can't ever help but wonder if this will be the year I've been waiting for.
Perhaps I will approach 27 with a little more caution and tact than the previous 26 years, but something tells me the only thing I've ever gotten good at is being Alison which is to say, probably not. Alison does not reign it in, and Alison certainly does not bottle. Sometimes I wish I was better at these things, as a little control and a little mystery really never did anyone any harm.
My best friend once told me my life is a bad country song. I didn't believe her until now. I mean, if your life has to be a country song, one could at least hope it was a badass one like a Johnny Cash or a Patsy Cline. Nope. My life is of the bubble-gum country persuasion. Taylor Swift probably sings my song, and millions around the world delight in the tedium as it blasts through the airwaves. My life is Soap Opera Network, when I would really prefer Comedy Central.
(My best friend is honest and also right, and I wouldn't be much of anything without her and I typed the last paragraph as an attempt to return to my funny. Please take it as such.)
My best friend also gave me the most sound advice I've ever gotten today.
...but don't hold on the present hoping for the future
Hows about I just start holding the future accountable for all I know it will be, instead?
It's clear this conversation
Ain't doin' a thing
Cause these boys only listen to me when I sing
And I don't feel like singing tonight
All the same songs
Here, in these deep city lights
Girl could get lost tonight
I'm finding every reason to be gone
Nothing here to hold on to
Could I hold you?
(Sara Bareilles)
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Guess you'd better go get your armor.
I'm heartbroken, hurt, troubled, stunned, shocked, shaken up, falling down, freaking out, humbled, confused, sad, and a lot of other words that can't seem to find their way to me right now.
Some good will come of these emotions, someday, but for now I kind of wish I didn't have to be the way I am.
Lucky for me, my heart's used to this by now so I know exactly what to do. I know good and well that dwelling, moping, and toxic negativity do nothing to alleviate the pain. So. I'll cry to myself, let my friends support me like I know they can, and keep right on doing whatever it is I'm doing.
I wasn't ready for this. And I really don't have any clear next step. I'm lost.
and there is nothing more to it than that.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
This year's love had better last. Heaven knows it's high time.
It's Sunday morning. I'm sprawling on my old bed which somehow feels new because it's freshly made and has new pillows. And I'm staring at a hot pink wall, which feels new because it is new because it's in my new apartment and also, I just painted it two days ago.
I didn't really intend for it to be THIS hot pink, but I'm pretty sure I love it.
From here, I can see Maggie sniffing all the luggage and piles of things that will somehow have to find new homes in my new home. And my new bathroom. I can definitely see my new bathroom, right here, from my perch, in my new old bed in my hot pink room in my new apartment. I say MY new bathroom, because here it sits, in my new bedroom, all for me. Which is a lie, because I fully intend to be a nice roommate and share with the others. But still. I live in New York and I have a hot pink bedroom and my own bathroom and I'm pretty sure life doesn't get much better.
Remember when I told you change scares me? If it results in things like this, and things I'm pretty sure are coming, it's actually not so bad.
I'm moving onto the next part of the story. There were infant years and adolescent years, high school years and college years. Then came the Charlotte years and the I'm moving to New York years and the Holy Shit, I just MOVED TO NEW YORK years. And though each chapter builds the book, this is a passage I never intended to write so it's probably going to be the most exciting yet. Really. I never meant to stay. I meant to come up here and poke around, pat myself on the back for trying and make some kind of triumphant return back down yonder.
Life's just more fun when you let it be an adventure.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Correspondance Thursday/Friday. And Merry Everyday, too.
Wherever I seem to be, there you are.
You, darling Elizabetta, have pretty much seen and heard it all when it comes to the tales my life spins. And when I was 24 and made a great leap into a massive unknown and landed in New York, you quickly became a safety net. Perhaps I didn't take full advantage of you and me, us in this city. But all along, there haven't been many greater comforts than just knowing you were here.
You know everything about me, and yet you love me anyway.
(I think that often about those nearest to my heart.)
There have been road trips and giggle fits. Chocolate sundaes and french fries, and Tasti-Delight, too. Anxieties. Weight Watchers and long walks. Photo shoots. The Brooklyn Bridge. Boston. Every city and every interstate in the greater Southeast. Warm afternoons in Bryant Park. Bad musicals. Music. Oh goodness, the music. Haircuts and boys in eyeliner. Jobs. Hobbies. Fails. Wins. Losses. Second, third and fourteenth chances. Compassion and love. Change. Acceptance. Jesus.
You've spared the kindest words that have ever been said to someone like me. I am grateful to have shared a time in our lives that nothing and no one will ever be able to touch. And I love that our lives are so similarly connected, so absolutely unplanned that we'll never have to worry about the silly little things like time and distance that seem to bog others down.
I would never have made it this far without you. And although I hate that we can no longer have instant adventures, I am positive that in the grand scheme of things "we" are not only far from over - we have barely begun. I'm happy to share you with a world that needs you. I can't wait to continue to be able to point and say "See her? She's my friend."
Love. Love. Love.
You, darling Elizabetta, have pretty much seen and heard it all when it comes to the tales my life spins. And when I was 24 and made a great leap into a massive unknown and landed in New York, you quickly became a safety net. Perhaps I didn't take full advantage of you and me, us in this city. But all along, there haven't been many greater comforts than just knowing you were here.
You know everything about me, and yet you love me anyway.
(I think that often about those nearest to my heart.)
There have been road trips and giggle fits. Chocolate sundaes and french fries, and Tasti-Delight, too. Anxieties. Weight Watchers and long walks. Photo shoots. The Brooklyn Bridge. Boston. Every city and every interstate in the greater Southeast. Warm afternoons in Bryant Park. Bad musicals. Music. Oh goodness, the music. Haircuts and boys in eyeliner. Jobs. Hobbies. Fails. Wins. Losses. Second, third and fourteenth chances. Compassion and love. Change. Acceptance. Jesus.
You've spared the kindest words that have ever been said to someone like me. I am grateful to have shared a time in our lives that nothing and no one will ever be able to touch. And I love that our lives are so similarly connected, so absolutely unplanned that we'll never have to worry about the silly little things like time and distance that seem to bog others down.
I would never have made it this far without you. And although I hate that we can no longer have instant adventures, I am positive that in the grand scheme of things "we" are not only far from over - we have barely begun. I'm happy to share you with a world that needs you. I can't wait to continue to be able to point and say "See her? She's my friend."
Love. Love. Love.
Friday, April 24, 2009
You wanna show the world, but no one knows your name (yet.)
New things scare me.
It may surprise you to know that I get very, incredibly, absolutely and super nervous when facing something unfamiliar. I'm a quintessential creature of habit. Lucky for me, I'm equal parts anxious and self-aware, so I know how to arm myself with the proper tools to address the unknown.
My latest fad has been to label every new thing I encounter an adventure. Adventure just sounds so entertaining and intriguing and engaging and lots of other wonderful words. Say it! I'M GOING ON AN ADVENTURE! There. Doesn't that sound awfully nice? I think so.
And my fail-safe backup has always been to take reinforcements. I do better with people around. (Haven't you noticed?) I usually give these people pep-talks before we embark on our adventure. I tell them what I will do and how they should react. It helps.
So it may surprise no one that on Saturday, I set out for my latest adventure. An open casting call for a new reality show called More to Love. I can tell already there is going to be a lot of love and a lot of criticism for this show. I hope it swims. I hope it soars. I hope it's something shiny and new and not just a reproduction of the tried and true reality tv production - drama queens + cameras = win. I think there might a good message in there, and I'm wishing and hoping and praying that I get to be one of the ladies putting my heart right there on that screen.
Because I'm me, I knew I would panic at the crucial moment. Because Crissie is a good friend, she came along to give me that nudge. (Because I'm me, I knew she was the one to ask.) So with any lucky, hopefully last Saturday will go down as the day my universe shifted. It's all going so very well. Now I'm in the sit around and wait for a phone call portion of this adventure. It's wreaking havoc - much more than I ever thought it would. I can't sleep cause I'm just so gosh-darned excited! I just keep picturing me, beamed across televisions across the country. Me, going on fantasy dates with some kind of ridiculous dreamboat. Me, putting it out there that not all chubby bunnies are lazy and sloppy and lethargic.
I've started many adventures in my life. Somehow I'm suddenly feeling each step has been a stone on a path en route to this. So, onto the next adventure!
(I hope.)
It may surprise you to know that I get very, incredibly, absolutely and super nervous when facing something unfamiliar. I'm a quintessential creature of habit. Lucky for me, I'm equal parts anxious and self-aware, so I know how to arm myself with the proper tools to address the unknown.
My latest fad has been to label every new thing I encounter an adventure. Adventure just sounds so entertaining and intriguing and engaging and lots of other wonderful words. Say it! I'M GOING ON AN ADVENTURE! There. Doesn't that sound awfully nice? I think so.
And my fail-safe backup has always been to take reinforcements. I do better with people around. (Haven't you noticed?) I usually give these people pep-talks before we embark on our adventure. I tell them what I will do and how they should react. It helps.
So it may surprise no one that on Saturday, I set out for my latest adventure. An open casting call for a new reality show called More to Love. I can tell already there is going to be a lot of love and a lot of criticism for this show. I hope it swims. I hope it soars. I hope it's something shiny and new and not just a reproduction of the tried and true reality tv production - drama queens + cameras = win. I think there might a good message in there, and I'm wishing and hoping and praying that I get to be one of the ladies putting my heart right there on that screen.
Because I'm me, I knew I would panic at the crucial moment. Because Crissie is a good friend, she came along to give me that nudge. (Because I'm me, I knew she was the one to ask.) So with any lucky, hopefully last Saturday will go down as the day my universe shifted. It's all going so very well. Now I'm in the sit around and wait for a phone call portion of this adventure. It's wreaking havoc - much more than I ever thought it would. I can't sleep cause I'm just so gosh-darned excited! I just keep picturing me, beamed across televisions across the country. Me, going on fantasy dates with some kind of ridiculous dreamboat. Me, putting it out there that not all chubby bunnies are lazy and sloppy and lethargic.
I've started many adventures in my life. Somehow I'm suddenly feeling each step has been a stone on a path en route to this. So, onto the next adventure!
(I hope.)
Monday, April 6, 2009
If I ever start to think straight, this heart will start a riot in me.
Today is rainy and in the 40s. And my whatever-I've-got-that-keeps-making-me-feel-like-poo is re-attacking and binding me to the couch.
But yesterday was gorgeous. Crissie and I ate burgers, went to Barnes and Noble, and sat our little butts in the park for a few hours. Know what I want more than anything? A football, and someone to throw it to. Don't let my squishy white arms fool you - my daddy taught me how to do a mean spiral.
And then there was gelato.
Mmmm. Spring is ALMOST here. See?
But yesterday was gorgeous. Crissie and I ate burgers, went to Barnes and Noble, and sat our little butts in the park for a few hours. Know what I want more than anything? A football, and someone to throw it to. Don't let my squishy white arms fool you - my daddy taught me how to do a mean spiral.
And then there was gelato.
Mmmm. Spring is ALMOST here. See?
Sunday, April 5, 2009
My heartbeat beats me senselessly. Why's everything got to be so intense with me?
I'm going to give you an update in the form of the lyrics I can't stop listening to and what I've been twittering about. Sound good? Lyrics in italics. Me in bold.
(Oh, and the song? Kelly Clarkson's Long Shot. It's been on constant repeat for about 24 hours now. My poor roommate...)
So now I’ll take a chance on
This thing we may have started
Intentional or not I
Don’t think we saw it coming
Now having a much improved morning. A guest just left me a SPONGEBOB SKATEBOARD and game of Sorry! for a tip!
It’s all adding up to something
That asks for some involvement
That asks for a commitment I think I see it coming
Taryn is here!
If we step out on that limb
edamame falafel? Amazing. Absolutely amazing.
I smell bacon.
Had duck for dinner and lamb for lunch! Exotic!
Loves brunch. Mainly for the free alcohol involved.
My heartbeat beats me senselessly
Why’s everything got to be so intense with me
Weekend finally over. Must face shower. Hair dryer. Hair product. Pantyhose. Suit. Makeup. Commute. Stupid tourists. Yaaaaay!
I’m trying to handle all this unpredictability
In all probability
Fox is casting a reality show to help a "curvy" girl find love. I am so totally all over that!!!
It’s a long shot but I say why not
If I say forget it
I know that I’ll regret it
It’s a long shot just to beat these odds
The chance is we won't make it
But I know if I don't take it there's no chance '
Cause you're the best I got
So take a long shot
Oh man. I haven't had the lovebug this bad in awhile, y'all. Fingers crossed.
I realize that there is all this doubting
Things we're both scared about that
We’ll never see them coming
Throw caution to the wind and
We’ll see which way it's blowing
Into this fully knowing
We’ll never see it coming
Til it's much too close to stop
Mortified and hungover. Instead of asking a guy OUT, my drunken tongue said HOME. Gah.
My heartbeat beats me senselessly
Why’s everything got to be so intense with me
I’m trying to handle all this unpredictability
In all probability
Damage control worked. Got a cute text from boy this am, unprompted by me. Phew. Vodka, we are so fighting.
It’s a long shot and I say why not
If I say forget it I know that I’ll regret it
It’s a long shot just to beat these odds
The chance is we won't make it
But I know if I don't take it there's no chance '
Cause you're the best I got
So take a long shot
Has had kelly clarkson's long shot on repeat for the whole ride home. It pretty much sums up everything. Everything.
Oh I waited for fact to come of fiction
And you fit my description
I never saw you coming
But we'll make it
What is written on the ass of the Tarheel's basketball uniforms? Anyone know?
It’s a long shot but I say why not
If I say forget it I know that I’ll regret it
I'm pretty sure their butts say "carolina" - I was hoping for "juicy." But, I love the argyle stripes!
It’s a long shot just to beat these odds
I think I liked chubby seth rogen more.
The chance is we won't make it But I know if I don't take it there's no chance 'Cause you're the best I got
Thinks if you don't enunciate, "ain't no sunshine" sounds more like "anal sunshine." And that's a bad thing.
It’s a long shot but I say why not
Still hoping...
And if that didn't satisfy your need to know what's going on in this ridiculous brain, heart, soul and body of mine...here are some pictures.
(Oh, and the song? Kelly Clarkson's Long Shot. It's been on constant repeat for about 24 hours now. My poor roommate...)
So now I’ll take a chance on
This thing we may have started
Intentional or not I
Don’t think we saw it coming
Now having a much improved morning. A guest just left me a SPONGEBOB SKATEBOARD and game of Sorry! for a tip!
It’s all adding up to something
That asks for some involvement
That asks for a commitment I think I see it coming
Taryn is here!
If we step out on that limb
edamame falafel? Amazing. Absolutely amazing.
I smell bacon.
Had duck for dinner and lamb for lunch! Exotic!
Loves brunch. Mainly for the free alcohol involved.
My heartbeat beats me senselessly
Why’s everything got to be so intense with me
Weekend finally over. Must face shower. Hair dryer. Hair product. Pantyhose. Suit. Makeup. Commute. Stupid tourists. Yaaaaay!
I’m trying to handle all this unpredictability
In all probability
Fox is casting a reality show to help a "curvy" girl find love. I am so totally all over that!!!
It’s a long shot but I say why not
If I say forget it
I know that I’ll regret it
It’s a long shot just to beat these odds
The chance is we won't make it
But I know if I don't take it there's no chance '
Cause you're the best I got
So take a long shot
Oh man. I haven't had the lovebug this bad in awhile, y'all. Fingers crossed.
I realize that there is all this doubting
Things we're both scared about that
We’ll never see them coming
Throw caution to the wind and
We’ll see which way it's blowing
Into this fully knowing
We’ll never see it coming
Til it's much too close to stop
Mortified and hungover. Instead of asking a guy OUT, my drunken tongue said HOME. Gah.
My heartbeat beats me senselessly
Why’s everything got to be so intense with me
I’m trying to handle all this unpredictability
In all probability
Damage control worked. Got a cute text from boy this am, unprompted by me. Phew. Vodka, we are so fighting.
It’s a long shot and I say why not
If I say forget it I know that I’ll regret it
It’s a long shot just to beat these odds
The chance is we won't make it
But I know if I don't take it there's no chance '
Cause you're the best I got
So take a long shot
Has had kelly clarkson's long shot on repeat for the whole ride home. It pretty much sums up everything. Everything.
Oh I waited for fact to come of fiction
And you fit my description
I never saw you coming
But we'll make it
What is written on the ass of the Tarheel's basketball uniforms? Anyone know?
It’s a long shot but I say why not
If I say forget it I know that I’ll regret it
I'm pretty sure their butts say "carolina" - I was hoping for "juicy." But, I love the argyle stripes!
It’s a long shot just to beat these odds
I think I liked chubby seth rogen more.
The chance is we won't make it But I know if I don't take it there's no chance 'Cause you're the best I got
Thinks if you don't enunciate, "ain't no sunshine" sounds more like "anal sunshine." And that's a bad thing.
It’s a long shot but I say why not
Still hoping...
And if that didn't satisfy your need to know what's going on in this ridiculous brain, heart, soul and body of mine...here are some pictures.
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