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Tag Archives: snookie

As most of you know, I’m very fashionable (and this will eventually lead to me spending the rest of my life with my soul mate – purple tie – if we ever find each other again).  I also have some pretty strong opinions with regards to what other people are wearing.  Yeah, I’m extremely hypocritical.
<ASIDE>   I feel like ranting.  I really hate “forced” anything – forced fun, such as theme parks, any type of tour (wine tasting, sight seeing, the fucking zoo), forced friendships, “okay, just because you’re my boyfriend’s sister/ brother’s girlfriend doesn’t mean we’re going to get along.  I mean, come on, a sorostitute/ actually a prostitute, really?!”  Forced holidays, for example, New Year’s Eve and Halloween are two of the biggest let downs, because who really needs an excuse to drink a shit ton of Andre or dress in a slutty outfit and call it a “costume.”  (that being said, New Year’s Eve is still my favorite holiday, I just need to celebrate it multiple times a year).   Getting to the point, and my pet peeve of the day, theme parties – forced dress-up.   I hate these, not at all because I don’t want to dress up, obviously I do, but because I want to dress how I want to dress, not to have to clothe myself while keeping in mind a specific theme my outfit should adhere to (of course the theme parties I will be throwing in the near future, ANTMPBE and jorts and jorties will be fucking awesome, but that doesn’t really apply here).  I think from now on I will dress opposite the pre-designated themes for theme parties, and maybe even attend standard parties/bars/clubs dressed as my own “theme” TBD when I’m wasted. </ASIDE>

And now what all 2-3 of you have been waiting for.  I’ve compiled some dos and don’ts for those of you less (can I use blessed here? yeah, I think I can) blessed in the fashionista department.


DO: be from canada

DON'T: be from southwestern virginia


DO: be a bad ass.

DON'T: be a douchebag


DO: be a snookie

DON'T: be a fat italian


DO: obvi.

DON'T: just don't.


DO: be a lesbian that looks like justin bieber

DON'T: be justin bieber


DO: be a faux animal.

DON'T: be something I want to eat.

Peace out bitches,


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On the eve of my one year singleversary, I would like to take a moment to remember some of the hi (and lo) lights of my first year in the “real” world.

– My first work happy hour: discovering CCR and drinking 13 Blue Moons (hardly compares to Micah’s 17 guinni) on a Wednesday.

– My 22nd birthday: running barefoot around Adams Morgan (jumbo slice in hand) screaming the lyrics of “birthday sex”

– Wildwood (except for the dirty Jersey part): cock block, my pail, eating fried oreos, and passing out in the grass in front of MTDs house with the captain of the UVA team before waking up to break in and climb in the middle of Hodges, Grace, and Kyle on the fold out couch. Oh yeah, and how good Andy and I are at beer pong.

– Kid Cudi, Tegan and Sara, and Jack’s Mannequin concerts.

– Mastering staffs, you got got, laser tag, pong ball golf, and Candyland.

ice in my veins.

– UVA: Four loko, and that time that Danny was rull Jewish and couldn’t be bothered to get us breakfast.  The birth of Humphrey.  Oh yeah, and WM won.

– That time Danny and I were engaged until it was no longer convenient for him, and then I was widowed.  The time we went to the emergency room.  The time that Danny thought the lyrics were, “fuck you like and electric eel.”  The time Amy couldn’t be bothered to wake up for anything.  The time the tro was for poor people.  The time we got roofied and the time there was a kidnapping.

– Homecoming: serenading Ludwell.  Hodges pissing himself and then saving a plant.

– Nats, Wizards, Redskins, Panthers.

– Thanksgiving, wing week, ludacrismas.

frittatas need love too.

– New Year’s Eve: Avatar, Wii games, multiple viewings of Inglorious Bastards, and the birth of Trotsky.

– New Year’s Eve part 2: white trash and the reincarnation of the beer bong.

– Burtassic park and the time I ran a 5k wearing Richard Hamilton’s headband and Tree wore a face shirt.

– Theme parties: ugly sweaters, Dexter, ABC, bar golf, Jersey shore, and Would you still be my friend if I wore this?

– Miami: 5 star hotel, open bars, and Dan passed in the pool.

– NSB: the time I should have died 3-4 times, beach cruisers, Aspen and Amy, ciddling, the garlic.


– Virginia Beach: becoming Aspen (one headband, plaid shirt, beach cruiser, and pair of vans at a time), three way relationships, orange crushes, new awesome friends.

Hm.  That list was longer than intended, and I left out a decent amount of the earlier and the most recent stuff, because I was tired of remembering, but I’ve had quite the year since college graduation and immediate entree into the world of 9 to 5s, happy hours, and business casual dress code. And now it’s over.

I’m a big fan of fresh starts.

Year 2 is looking pretty amazing.  I’m moving in with Danny this weekend in the most baller apartment I’ve ever seen.  I have the majority of my weekends for the next three months planned out (I love planning!!)  Hodges and Tree will be visiting in all of their spare time.  I start grad school in the fall (guarantee I’m the only white girl, not racist/sexist, just true).  Not to mention, I have another whole (oh yes, I did almost type ‘awholenother’) season of football coming up, and we all know that the Matt Moore era will not disappoint.  I am most excited to celebrate my versary tomorrow with Amy, as we raise our glasses to the usual toast, “boys suck,” and I can evening-dream about all of the amazing things that are bound to happen to me in year dos (win the lottery, huge promotion, get mono and lose 20 pounds, marry astronaut mike dexter, etc.)

Dear future (celebrating her 2 year singleversary) SD,

Don’t you dare own a cat or a snuggie.


Current (not quite yet an old maid, although according to hodges it may already be too late for you and if you’re trying to ever have children, you better start now, or else just give up and begin a long life of alcoholism and loneliness) SD

This went from blog post to diary entry within the first 2 lines. I’m sorry? I love you?

Peace out bitches,

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