Catch Colds, Not Feels

(Or be like me and catch both. Your call really.)

I’ve been sick for a little over 2 weeks and it doesn’t seem to be going away. Speaking of things that aren’t going away, I’ve run into a slight predicament in the realm of romance. (And not VD you pervs… geez.) Rather that something that was never supposed to be anything other than friends hanging out has recently become slightly more than that, at least on my end.

EDITOR’S NOTE: If the person I’m talking about (and you know who you are) is currently reading this right now (although that’s doubtful, and I’m not sure if you do actually read this), please click away. I promise I won’t say anything bad or personal but I also don’t want you to be aware of the aforementioned feels I currently possess. Also, you don’t need to know the extent of my crazy (even though you probably already think you do) and I don’t want any of my nonsense and most-likely-fleeting feelings to affect our friendship. Thank you for respecting my privacy, now please go away. :)

Alright, now that we’re alone I can get back to the business of explaining my current problem. I truly believe that old age is turning me soft because I rarely get sick and I rarely have genuine human feelings of this nature.

So basically I have a friend who I’ve known for almost a decade and now that I’m back home we’ve been hanging out. It’s been really chill and fun (as hanging with your friends often is), and up until recently it’s been totally casual. (Side Note: I never know how to spell the truncated version of “casual”. Is it “cash” or “caszhe” or “caz”?? Someone please let me know in the comments.) Then a couple weeks ago, we were sitting at the bar completely “caszche” and I suddenly got an overwhelming urge to kiss him.

…Uhhh, what now?

First of all, WHAT THE HELL, ALANNA?!?! Second of all, Like come on girl, it’s HIM. Your FRIEND. The guy you once saw get so angry about losing in Pokemon Brawl that he got up and left your other friend’s house. Plus, I’m not looking for a boyfriend or anything even resembling a serious relationship. I just broke up with my boyfriend of four years and not only would that be disrespectful to him but also to the new guy. Not to mention it would be irresponsible for my own sanity and general well-being.

But the thing about feels is that they don’t care about logic or rationality. Your amygdala is just like, “Soo… I’m gonna take a nap. Sorry about your lack of good judgement, peace out fam.” Then your hypothalamus, along with its little buddy the nucleus accumbens, is all like, “Alright alright alright,” (a la Matthew McConaughey) and before you know it you’re attached to your phone in case he texts you and wondering what he looks like naked.

(Also, please don’t bust my balls if that’s not entirely correct. I’m not a neurologist and it’s been a while since I took that class.)

So all of this basically is fine, just me freaking out about having feels to begin with. Especially for someone I’ve been friends with for so long and want to remain friends if things go back to normal. The weird thing is that even though we’ve been friends for a billion years, I realized that I actually know very little about him. I mean, I know things like what sports teams he’s into and his opinions on the election and why his brand of beer is superior to mine. I know that he constantly travels on the basketball court like we don’t live in a society with rules and I know what memes will make him laugh.

But the other day, we were just talking (like humans do, ya know?) and he starts talking about his family and their quirks and stories about his parents and nephews and all that. Suddenly, I notice that I know NOTHING about his family or even his life outside of the superficiality of drunken conversations and trash-talk while playing video games. I thought back for a second and realized in the almost ten years of knowing him, he’s never once mentioned anything about his family and now he’s sitting here talking about growing up with his siblings and how their relationship has changed over the years.

“Hey, nice to finally meet you, my name’s Alanna. What’s yours again? Oh, that’s right, your name isn’t even your real name, it’s your middle name but I didn’t even know that until like 7 years down the line. Nbd, fam.”

I feel like I’m in one of those movies where after years and years the people find out their friend/spouse/family member is actually a spy or a member of the royal family (except on a waayy less significant level). Normally, I’d question my own listening skills and scold myself for being too self-involved, but this time I wasn’t just being a self-centered bitch. I talked to my one friend the other night about this whole thing and she was basically like, “Wait.. he has a family?” and I was like, “I KNOW RIGHT?!” so there ya go.

She also joked about how her and some of the guys were assessing this situation and how the guys were like, “Yeah they’re ‘chilling’ but they’re not ‘chilling’. I give it like 2 weeks at the most,” and my friend was all, “Yeah, yeah, whatever… I think this is actually happening.” (I’m directly involved and I still question whether or not I’m in a coma or perhaps have slipped into another dimension where nothing makes any sense.) My friend made a very legit observation that none of us have ever seen the guy bring any girls around.

Literally. None.

That tripped me out pretty heavily because he obviously dated and did other human things but none of us actually witnessed it. And we’ve all brought around our various dudes and hos, even if it was just some bullshit thing. Not him though. I remember seeing one girl drive up while we were playing football like 6 years ago but she didn’t even get onto the front yard. He just walked all the way over to the road and talked to her while she stood next to her car, and from 100 feet away we were all creeping like, “Ooohh shiittt, waddupp,” (and damn, even from that distance it was obvious she was hot af) but when he came back up to the field he didn’t say a single word about her, the conversation, or the situation at all. He just left us in the lurch leaving us to make up our own conclusions as well as some pretty funny jokes.

The moral of this story is that I like a guy who may or may not be the Batman.

I’m not even worried about analysis or labels or anything, it’s all in good fun and my life is going pretty great in general at the moment so in a totally uncharacteristically-“me”-type-way, I’m just enjoying having fun and chilling with a friend. (But not “chilling”, of course.)

If you read through this entire post, congratulations. You get a prize. (The satisfaction of reading 1200 words of nonsense.) I hope you’re all having a wonderful December. Merry Fuckery and Happy Lols to you all. <3 <3 <3 <3

Funny Blog Friday: Just The Gal’s

(I am currently experiencing terrible writer’s block though, so to make this post possible, I had to phone a friend. Like “Who Wants to be a Millionaire?” but instead of money and prizes, everyone gets to read. Just as good, right?)

Lately I’ve had to read a bunch of depressing stuff about mental illness and suicidal teenagers, so my joking game is pretty weak. However, I’m lucky enough to be surrounded by a group of Humor Jedi masters, and the LOL’s are strong within them. I turned to my friend Colin for help on this FBF post after we recently had an extremely in-depth and meaningful discussion about my town putting in a new Chick-Fil-A.

Despite their openly anti-gay stance, he still eats there as much as possible because fast food trumps ideology any day. And even though they’re not open on Sunday’s, every day at Chick-Fil-A is the sabbath (according to Colin).

Some have criticized his unfaltering love of the establishment, but there will always be haters and also, YOLO.

So there you have it, folks. My half-assed Funny Blog Friday post, all thanks to my brother from another mother. Shout out to him and the rest of the FBF crew!  <3

(Seriously, go read their posts, they actually put work into them.)

Victoria of Angst Anarchy

Gina of Endearingly Wacko

Jamie of Fits of Wit

Jessie of Jessie Reyna

Jenn of Properly Ridiculous

HAPPY FRIDAY EVERYBODY!!!!

The Fundamental Dynamics Of All Things Ridiculous Portrayed in Pretty Little Liars – Featuring Alanna from White Girls Be Like…

Jessie and I discuss the complex nature of “Pretty Little Liars”. Check it out and chime in, even if you’ve never seen it. Everyone’s opinions are important here.

The Art Of Falling Down Stairs

(My most graceful moments have happened in my Timberland’s. They’re like ballet slippers but for people who actually have to do stuff. Like carving trails through the woods or kicking some fool’s door in ’cause he hasn’t paid you back. It’s a versatile shoe.)

I’ve had my boots since the sixth grade which would make them a little over 10 years old. We’ve been through so much together. Good times like when we hiked through that old Native American trail and I would’ve slipped down this hill into a ravine if I didn’t have my trusty ‘ol Timb’s on.

Bad times like when my ex got arrested that one New Year’s Eve and I fell down a stripper pole (see story here).

I’m not much for believing in luck, but I reaallllyyy cannot figure out these shoes. If anything, they’re more like a rollercoaster of good and bad experiences that prove the great Karmic balance of the universe.

Like Thursday, for example: I woke up to find out one of my cousins died, but then I got to class and everyone loved my story so much, my teacher even convinced me to turn it into a novel (so that’s something I might be doing in the near future, just so everyone’s aware). I spent most of the day alone but then one of my best friends tells me he’s coming over and we’re gonna drink whiskey and tell tales of the sea. Needless to say, I’m totally stoked. Then as I’m gliding excitedly down the stairs to receive him at the door (that sounded dirty, but you know what I meant), I pull a full-on Scarlett O’Hara and tumble down the stairs.

No one’s made a gif for this, probably because making it to the end of this movie is hard work in itself. But imagine this, except that I live in a tiny old brownstone and my staircase is like 30 feet down and maybe 3 feet wide.

If anyone reading this is a tumbler, I hit the halfway point of the stairs, started sliding, and then ended with a full birandi(sp?) (landing on my back instead of my feet).

Alessandro was upstairs chilling, all like:

The irony here is that about a year ago when we lived at our last apartment, the same friend who I fell down the stairs to see (running just isn’t fast enough), fell down those other stairs and literally broke his face. The ambulance came and I had to hold his head so he didn’t drown in his own blood, and then they put a metal plate in his face that makes all the metal detectors at government buildings start freaking out.

So, ‘ya know… silver linings and such. (There’s humor everywhere if you look hard enough.)

Anyways, back to me. Now I have what looks like a banana crossbred with a softball coming out of my leg and it hurts to type. If you know what getting the tar beaten out of you feels like, I’m totally there right now. And of course, Alessandro is once again too busy working to take care of his sad hobbled girlfriend.

(Side Note: some people have been asking why I don’t just wear my new Timberland’s instead. Well, I absolutely would, but when I was ordering them I wasn’t picturing myself wearing them but perhaps 50 Cent, and they came out a little flashier than I would have liked.)

Badass, right? But I’d look like an idiot.

So be careful out there, everybody! (And avoid all stairs if possible.)

“My New Experiment” By Jessie Janelle Reyna

ATTENTION FELLOW BLOGGERS!!
(Or just people reading this. Not trying to exclude anyone here.)
Read this post by the lovely and talented Jessie Reyna and come join the party!! Or just check out the awesomeness and tune in to watch her awesome writing experiment. It’s gonna be spectacular.
Guaranteed or your money back.