Happy New Year

Is it a real shocker how I measure a year?

Betcha never would’ve guessed it, but I measure a year in relationships. This year has been a great year I’ve made so many friends, lost them, gotten stronger with some, and never spoke to some again. I’ve learned a lot about people, and journalism, but mostly about me.

So here’s my list of what I’ve learned this year. I’m ready to tackle 2012 , with a whole lot more to learn.

 1. Write when I feel like I need to think. Write when I’m bored. Write when you feel happy, sad, angry, delightful, hopeful, heartbroken, because I won’t be able to stop thinking about it until I do.

2     2.    Don’t deny yourself hanging out with some people just because you’re in a relationship. If you have friends who are the opposite sex, hang out with them, sometimes they make the best ones. 

3.Be upfront to people. For me, they should know that I’m kind of nutty.

4.     Stand by your convictions. Don’t agree with everyone if they’re wrong. Or if you think they’re wrong. Someone will see your greatness, even if it is only you.

5.     It’s ok to cry.

6.     It isn’t always easy studing journalism. Sometimes you just come back with shit. It’s your job to make it fantastic with or without good content.

7.     I’ve given people a chance. I’ve learned that some of the strangest people become your best friends.

8.     Losing friends sucks, no matter which way you swing it.

9.     People are people no matter what their age. It hurts a 40-year old man as much as 14 year-old girl if you talk about them behind their backs.

10. Everyone is insecure.

11.  Sometimes, unpredictable things happen. It’s easy to be a pessimist about them, but being an optimist just saves so much energy.

12. Put everything you have into everything you do.

13. I’m actually pretty good at guitar.

14. Never give up on your dreams. Dreaming keeps me sane. It may take you to be 90 years old before you achieve them, but don’t ever give up on them.

15.  War can end.

16. I idolize my peers, more than famous people.

17. Sometimes you just wake up feelin’ like P-Diddy.

18. Music should evoke emotion. Even if there are no lyrics. It can do that you know.

19. Be honest with yourself. “Hi, how are you?” “confused, silly, annoyed, angry, happy.”

20. Try to learn everything, because you’re not too good to learn something. You can only improve. It can only help.

21. New York City is so cool. I could see myself in New York. Actually, it’s the only place I see myself.

22.  Sometimes, you just need to have an intelligent conversation.

23. Spending a long day in the city, will probably allow you to know more about your friends, then you ever wanted to.

24.  It doesn’t matter how old you are, you can always learn.

25. It doesn’t matter how you get there or how long it takes you, but that you get there eventually.

Thanksgiving

Since it is the holiday season and my relatives flood in from Rhode Island, Arizona, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania I figured I should write about it.

Thanksgiving in particular.

As I was talking to some people about why I love Thanksgiving and what we do on Turkey Day, it shocked me that not everyone was like us.

This is a typical Thanksgiving week:

Sunday/Monday:

1.     Prepare what is able to prepared ahead of time such as glazed pecans, cookies, buy more food.

2.     Obsessively clean the bathroom, basement, guestroom, kitchen and bedrooms, because you will not be sleeping in them for the next few days.

3.     Buy booze.

4.     Pray for no extreme weather conditions.

Tuesday:

1.     Try not to make a mess in the kitchen, bathroom, or family room.

2.     Clean some more.

3.     Get more food.

4.     Watch all my t.v shows, and get out singing, guitar playing, screaming, whining before Grandma arrives by airplane at night.

5.     Pick Grandma up at the Wilkes-Barre Scranton/Avoca Airport.

Wednesday:

1.     Decide if I’m going to school.

2.     Decide against it.

3.     Wake up at around 7:00am to find mom in the kitchen trying to figure where she’s going to put everything between our two refrigerators.

4.     Eat bagels, or breakfast casserole.

5.     Listen to Gram decide what she wants to do. Gram spends a long time upstairs, because she can’t go up and down stairs.

6.     Gram comes down makeup and dressed, ready to work and help prepare.

7.     I come downstairs to realize what’s going on.

8.     Go out to eat at night, even if there’s food in the freezer.

9.     Buy more food even though the refridge is more than full.

10. More relatives come.

Thursday:

1.     Wake up to find mom in the kitchen at 7 am trying to figure out what temperature the oven needs to be on to cook the turkey.

2.     Find out if Gram is still sleeping. Try to keep quiet not to wake anyone up.

3.     Dad hangs around hiding in his office and periodically coming out to help. Sometimes he hangs around and does everything mom tells him to do.

4.     Wipe down counters. Again.

5.     Mom puts sticky notes where she wants certain dishes and in what containers.

6.     Go upstairs take a shower before everyone awakens, or decides to shower.

7.     Find a safe spot to put on makeup.

8.     Find an outfit , while Gram’s in and out of my room.

9.     Help mom make dips, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and cranberry sauce.

10. Try to snack on munchies like chips, dip, cheese and crackers and mom yells at me because it’s for our guests.

11. I whine and Gram tells me to stop, and I ignore her.

12. Get wine glasses out, and listen to Gram talk about how when she was a kid, there was more respect for her parents. Roll my eyes.  

13. Get wine glasses out.

14. First guests arrive at noonish.

15. Give everyone hugs.

16. Munch on the munchies for 2-4 hours.

17. Try to play with the little kids, but eat at the same time.

18. Decide to put almost all the munchies away and get hungry again.

19. Put turkey in the oven.

20. Everyone still talks while mom and dad put everything else out.

21. Stuff our faces, because no one’s cooking when they go home.

22. Get the little kids to eat.

23. Gramma tells the story of how her and her siblings used to have to perform at family gatherings. She harasses us to play our instruments for everyone else. I ignore it, I’m more focused on food.

24. Let us all say how stuffed we are.

25. Bring out dessert.

26. Stuff our faces with desserts.

27. Harass my sister and I to perform a song. We deny.

28. Let everyone say they’re leaving.

29. Harass us again to play a song.

30. An hour later, have everyone actually leave.

31. Find a place to dump the leftovers.

32. Clean dishes by hand and by dishwasher with 5 or more people helping.

33. Get tired, try to hide. Later in the evening, it works.

34. Finally, we go to bed.

This is a typical Thanksgiving holiday in my family, hope yours is family filled, and safe. Have a great Thanksgiving.

I Blog Because--

I blog because I’m an idiot.

The Internet has created a world, where we have virtual friendships and virtual lives. So, it  makes sense I write in my diary on the Internet.

My blog is more than a diary where I write about my boyfriend and complain.  If there’s one thing I’ve learned while taking classes at college, it’s how to observe the world around me and to write about it.

I’ve learned you will look like an idiot sometimes. I’m the type of person that will realize her shirt’s on inside out at 2 in the afternoon. I have had my share idiotic moments, and I’m sure I’m not done writing about them.

I wish I could say I started blogging to get my name out there, or to make a difference, or to practice writing, but I actually started because my boyfriend took a class on Tuesday nights.

Bored+Cassidy=Blogging.

I started writing it, because I was bored, but I also felt I had something to say. Of course, I’ve also written a blog about not having anything to say ” I think all the time, and never have a damn thing to say. “

I’ve written blogs about sexiness, “When the weather gets nice, the clothes come off, and the sexual chemistry and tension bubbles over the beaker,” getting lost “I made a left, because it felt so right,” and high school reunion syndrome, “it’s like going back to high school, because you’re comparing yourself to the girls who can scarf down chicken wings and pizza and not gain a pound. God, I hate them.”

I started blogging because writing took my mind off the stresses of school and life. The only people I ever thought would read it would be my friends on Facebook. When I wrote about tattoos, I received a new reader whom I have never met.

That was so cool. That’s why I keep writing, because I believe people are reading my life like a book. I’m ok with them reading my life like a book, because I’m a really lousy liar and I’m an idiot for trying.

 I was sure only people I knew read my blog. I guess it was dumb to think that if I put my entry online, only my friends would find it.

Writing has always been something I’ve enjoyed like singing or acting, because it allowed me to escape from the life I was living. Not that the life I was living was bad, but sometimes life just gets hard.  When I was 9, I wrote a fractured fairytale about Cinderella, it wasn’t finished until 14 pages later.

I’ve been meaning to write about this on my blog, but haven’t figured out the way I wanted to put it yet. 

I’ve realized, writing is a lot like putting yourself on stage. Sometimes you come out a star, and other times you come out looking unprepared. Usually, that’s because you are. That’s one of the moments being an idiot is humiliating. But sometimes, you need to look like an idiot to learn your lesson. I know if I hadn’t made some of the mistakes I’ve made, I would’ve never learned from them, like the time I put my iPod in the washer. 

Not my finest moment.

I think some of the best blogs are written on a spur of the moment, kind of like life. When we make a decision in life, sometimes we’re stuck with the decision we’ve made. But with blogs, we can edit and assess what we’ve done.  

When I was a kid, I wasn’t encouraged to write. Now, that I have the chance, I feel like I’m making up for lost time and editing my life story. I’m constantly editing my life story like I’m constantly editing my blog.

Now let me clarify why I am an idiot for blogging—because I think people will actually give a damn about what I have to say.

But being a story teller is something I love to do, and that’s what I choose to do on my blog. Writing a blog, I’ve made my mistakes and shared them or will share my future screwups. 

If that doesn’t make me an idiot, I don’t know what does.

S-O-O.

Sex.

Oral.

Orgasm.

Those words may be used explicitly for the bedroom, but they’re easier to discuss than this word.

The dreaded “L word.”

Not liquor. But love.

Now, I’m not a relationship expert, but sometimes I wish I was.

It seems on college campuses, people are hooking up faster than they can remember each other’s names or major. In college, there’s lots of sex, but not a lot of “I love you.”

It dawned on me, that not a lot of people allow themselves to fall in love, but rather allow themselves to fall in lust.

But that asks the new age old question—

Why are people afraid to say “I love you"?

I’ve seen a lot of breakups on college campuses, and some of them were convinced they were in love, and some of them were never in love, and some of them left with a broken heart.

But people are straying farther and farther away from the L word and treating it like a marriage proposal.

I like to think I’m one of the lucky ones who got to fall in love. I always wanted to know what love felt like, and once I did, I never wanted to fall out of love.

I still don’t. 

But I remember the moment I knew I was in love with my boyfriend, Andy. It was a cold winter night, but we were getting hot. He had his shirt off, and gazed into my eyes, as if they were the starry night sky on a clear night.

Falling in love was the best thing that ever happened to me.

But it wasn’t like I just fell head over heels in love with him. I knew I liked him, but I had to accept it first. That took me a long time to figure it out.

I had to accept it, in order to let it grow.

But when I accepted it, I knew it was giving potential to what could be. It was about enjoying the time now, and it should be awesome while it lasts. I wasn’t asking for a ring. I was just asking for a chance.

When was the last time you heard of someone having sex because they loved the person? You probably haven’t.  

It seems people are more willing to hook up when there are risks of herpes, pregnancy, or AIDS but when it comes to having a broken heart, it's worse than all the physical symptoms.

You have to live with crabs too, but the consequences are far too great to have your heart broken. When your heart’s broken, you hate couples, married, young, engaged, whatever. It seems like all you see are idiots in love.

Then you’ll think to yourself, “why would anyone do that to themselves, when you fall, you’ll fall hard. “

Then you realize  sex, oral, and orgasms are the best when you’re in love. 

Wholesome

I’ve screwed up a lot in my life. Some people would say I haven’t screwed up enough yet.  But most of those things ended up working themselves out.

Of course, I’m not one to talk. Last week, I didn’t write a blog because I was heading up to New York City to cover the Occupy Wall Street Protests. I got to know my classmates rather well during the course of a 19 hour day.

And I’m not talking about their favorite colors or their favorite food.

I’m talking more involved. On the way to the train station, we read an article about Lesbian sex.

 Dream theesomes, strangest sexual encounters, steamy hookups and just plain awkward walks of shame.

It seems like, when you spend that much time with people who you haven’t known forever,  all you want to know is what makes them tick.

And what makes them hot. 

So why is it, a few minutes after meeting someone our minds race to figure them out?

Or maybe it’s just me.

I’m the type of person who’s a pretty lousy liar. I don’t need to fake stuff to get people to like me.  That didn’t work the last few times I tried.

When it was my time to talk about my experiences, I was embarrassed.

Not because my encounters were so freaky a porno wouldn’t show , but because I didn’t have many.

My answers to some questions?

Weirdest place to have sex?

            A bed.

Kinkiest Fantasy?

            Being alone .

How many partners?

            One

Then they picked a word to describe me.

Wholesome. Perfect. Parent’s Dream.

When I think of the word “wholesome”, I think of a Midwestern beauty queen, or a slice of whole wheat bread. At least they weren’t calling me a prude, but I sure felt like one.

But not only did I feel like a prude. I felt pathetic because of my lack of sexual experiences.

A bunch of orgies, bondage, or hooking up with strangers just isn’t hot to me.

Not that I think there is anything wrong with enjoying sex.

But I do feel like a loser. After listening to their stories, I realized.

Damn, I am Wholesome.

All About Steve- A SPECIAL TRIBUTE To STEVE JOBS

Toy Story changed my life .

So did Itunes.

So did Garage Band.

So did the iPod.

So did The iPad.

I grew up in the ultimate iHome. 

I had iParents.

My dad was the ultimate iDad. He had a Powerbook, aka the most up to date Mac laptop of its time because if he had to work on a pc all day, he might have slit his wrists.

He used to have stock in Apple, because he knew what the rest of the world had yet to discover.

Of course at that time, Apple almost fell off of the face of  earth. Now I could kick him.

Steve Jobs may have been the single most important guy in the world.

When I was a kid, I didn’t learn how to type words on Microsoft, but in Adobe Photoshop. My very first computer was a Macintosh. Back when people actually called it a Macintosh. I used to play computer games made especially for Mac, because all the cool girly games were made for Windows 98.

We had two Macs in my house, the Mac G4 and an even older version that I can’t remember the name of. I could play my games on it .  

I did my first big school project on my Mac. I made my first cd on a Mac, and I have my first real internet experience on a Mac.

I’ did my first real video project on a Mac, made my first solo instrument recording on a Mac, and developed my pictures on a Mac. 

They say you never forget your first love. 

I think they're right. 

Recipe for The Perfect...( Relationships Part II)

The sizzles of the stove, the smells spaghetti sauce and Balsamic Vinegar, and the spices are waiting to be sprinkled on the perfect dish.

Ah.the joys of the kitchen.

I’ve been in my relationship with my boyfriend for two years. I’ve been making the same dish every single night for almost two years with him. I guess you could say I’ve mastered it.

Something I don’t do often, is cook. But I have cooked enough times to know that relationships are a lot like food, they must be handled very delicately. I’ve created my recipe for maintaining the perfect dish.

Cassidy’s Recipe for Maintaining The Perfect Relationship:

 1. Measure- Measure how many times you say I love you, and read the directions. You wouldn’t start with the icing on the cake if there’s no cake. Don’t say I love you until it’s ready.

2. When breaking the egg, be gentle, - It’s one thing to break it harshly, but then you need to pick up the mess you just made with tears and angry feelings. Be nice, so it’s less of a mess to clean up later.

3.Do things to spice up the relationship- Add a different spice every time you make it—the same thing gets boring after a while.

4.Presentation is Key- Sprinkle cheese over the top of your calzone, make the top of your cake pretty with icing. I know you can’t wait to eat that cheesecake, but wait till the cherries are on top. When it looks pretty, it’s just more pleasant to your tongue when you finish. Remind yourself how much you like the icing on the cake, remind others of how good it is too. Dress yourself up once in a while.

5.  If it’s burning take it out! - If your food is burning, take it out of the oven! Don’t let it burn just because that’s how long the recipe says to keep it there for.  Make a big deal out of something that is a big deal, and fix it  don’t ignore it and let the house burn down.

6. If you do in fact burn your cookies. –Own up to it. It will make the other person love that at you tried. If not, make it up to them, but own up. You aren’t perfect and if you strive to be, you’ll drive yourself nuts. 

Speaking of nuts...

7.Add nuts, berries, whipped cream, and whatever you like to your dish and your relationship. It is your dish after all, the recipe is simply a guide.  The most important rule of cooking—make it your own.