Happy New Year :)

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Happy New Year, everyone! Here's an Irish blessing for everyone, from my family to yours:

May the road rise to meet you,
may the wind be always at your back,
may the sun shine warm upon your face,
the rains fall soft upon your fields and,
until we meet again,
may God hold you in the palm of His hand.

Bye, 2010. Hey there, 2011.

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I didn't participate in Reverb 10, but I read everyone else's responses to the prompts and loved them, as well as thought on them on my own. I don't think I could encapsulate 2010 into one word, but I think I've gotten it in one phrase:

I should have...

I should have known you would be no good for me. I should have written more. I should have apologized. I should have taken more pictures. I should have tried harder. I should have traveled more. I should have been careful. I should have focused. I should have been grateful. I should have enjoyed myself.

I should have, I should have, I should have.

I know those all sound negative. But, even though there were many parts of 2010 that I loved and wouldn't give back for the world, overall I think this is the only year I ever ended on an unhappy note. And really, I know this isn't just The Darkness talking; these are legitimate things that I wish I could change. 2010 was a rough year; I lost both family pets, almost died in a near-fatal car accident, and slammed head first into my Quarter-Life Crisis.

That said, I did learn a lot in 2010. It was a year made for learning about myself, the world around me, and where I fit into it. I know that will continue, and that's exciting.

But for me, I want 2011 to be about carpe diem, seizing the day; Do Epic Shit. If the Mayans were right and this is the last full year ever, then it will be a year of laughter, of pictures, of inspiration, of doing what's right. I'll continue to learn, and to grow; barring all catastrophes, I'll graduate from college. I'll live alone for the first time, and I'll take advantage of that to the fullest. I'll spend a good part of it abroad, and hopefully I'll master one language, perfect another, and start yet another. I'll stop calling myself a writer, and actually write.

I know I'll make mistakes. There will be things I look back on that will make me cringe. But that's okay. 2011 will be a good year; I will make it so.

R.I.P. Angel

I don't really know what to say here.

We had to put my cat to sleep earlier today. She's been very sick, beyond help.
But she was 14 years old; she lived a good life.
A comfortable life.
Hell, more than comfortable. She was the queen of our lives.
Angel dictated everything and anything that went on in our house.
Once, my parents even returned a bedspread because she didn't like it.
Yeah.
It feels like our little kingdom is without it's queen now.
I miss her sassiness more than anything.
That's the perfect word for her.
Sassy.


Rest in Peace, sweetheart.

Merry Christmas... late as always.

As always, I'm a few days late.

But I had to go through these and edit them.
As well as finally acquire some internet access.
Since we're in the middle of moving
(I know... AGAIN. And, and BACK to DFW. I KNOW.)
and our current temp apartment doesn't have internet.My cousin, Emily, with their adorable new puppy. It was like a giant ball of fluff.

Merry (belated) Christmas from my family to yours. :)

Did you guys all have a wonderful Christmas? And for my non-Christian friends, did you have a wonderful Saturday? :) How many of you are caught in the blizzard?

Declaration of Womanhood

I hold these truths to be obvious (as well as somewhat bitchy, and only kind of satirical) that all Women are human, that sometimes Women cannot be perfect. That it is the right of Women to occasionally lose their shit, that though they try their best to "do it all," it is their privilege, their duty, to stand up and protest when the expectations of Society and The Media have become too much.

Article One: I am a real woman. I do not have the body of an adolescent boy; I'm not all straight lines and no hips. I'm healthy and I have curves. Learn to like them or try dating other men.

Article Two: Me saying, "I want to be single," does NOT translate to, "Try harder." It also doesn't mean, "Buy me something," or, "Express your undying love for me." Sometimes though, it does mean GTFO.

Article Three: I fart sometimes. I also burp, sneeze, bleed, and cough. Sometimes I even poop. I'm not made from some combination of fairy dust and porcelain skin that exempts me from all that. They're all natural bodily functions. Get over it.

Article Four: "No," does not mean, "Yes."

Article Five: I am not your damsel in distress. I do not need you to ride in on your white horse and "save" me. I can handle my own shit, and if I can't, I'll ask for help.

We, therefore, in appealing to Common Sense, do declare that we are not some superhuman being that can do everything and anything, be everything and anything, and still show up for dinner looking like we just stepped out of a Victoria's Secret catalogue; that we are absolved from the more inane expectations of The Media and Society, and anyone who tries to tell us otherwise is going to get punched in the face.

the most productive insomnia of my life.

It is 2:20am as I write this. I've been up since 9am yesterday morning. But I'm not tired because WEEEEE INSOMNIA.

I will hate myself for not taking sleeping pills tomorrow, but for now I'm okay with that because this has been the most productive insomnia ever ever ever.

Normally, I'm not at all productive this late at night. I don't do anything but sit around and cry on facebook about how I'm so tired but can't sleep. HELPFUL, I KNOW. But tonight, GLORIOUS TONIGHT OF ALL NIGHTS, I have finished packing up for my impending move in a few weeks, uploaded 100+ photos to my flickr account, did some actual writing not at all connected to this blog post, decided what to get people for Christmas, cooked a *big girl* meal, researched a camera lens I really want like whoa, did some research for my trip to China next summer and began filling out an application for that, and danced around like a lunatic to good music.

I KNOW.

I'm not sure who the hell this new productive Valorie is, but I'm a fan of her. SHE GETS SHIT DONE. SHE HAS HER ACT TOGETHER. HOW LONG DO YOU THINK I CAN TYPE IN CAPS BEFORE I JINX IT?

Also, this new productive Valorie started a tumblr recently, Inspiration Everlasting. It's where I (and productive Valorie -- we might be two different people, it's still up in the air) just blog anything seen/heard/noticed that inspires me, that I think is beautiful, that makes me smile. I'd love to connect with any of you who have a tumblr there too, so hit me up on that link and please feel free to submit anything you see that inspires you! :)

By the way, I just want to say how awesome you guys are. Y'all's support these past few post, especially for ones like The Nouns, which became y'all's favorite post over night apparently, has really been great for me to see with how stressful life has been recently. So, you know, you guys rock and yay. Thanks. BUT ENOUGH WITH THE MUSHY.

I was going to try to leave you with photos from Rock the Republic (which is most of what I uploaded to flickr tonight and you should TOTALLY check out --> here <-- but Blogger seems to not feel like uploading pictures consistently. Is anyone else having that problem? I may try again tomorrow, so check back. :)

The One About Sprinklers

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I know what you're thinking. She's blogging about sprinklers? What the fuck? Things are really going downhill around here.

It's okay. I'm kind of thinking that too. It's like, my life has gotten to the point where sprinklers have to actually be a legitimate subject on my blog. How pathetic am I?

Okay, but here's what happened. A certain amount of time ago, a few friends and I were out at a dance hall in town. Just the girls, hanging out. Being single and awesome. You know. We'd been asked to dance a few times, no big deal. That is, until one of the guys becametotally fixated on me, which was okay for about FIVE SECONDS, which is about how long it took him to start talking to me about sprinklers.

SPRINKLERS, PEOPLE. THIS WAS HIS FLIRTING. HE TALKED TO ME ABOUT SPRINKLERS FOR FIFTEEN MINUTES. Did you know there's like five different types of sprinkler systems frequently used in America? No? Really? Is it because you DON'T CARE KIND OF LIKE ME?

I don't want this to turn into a dating advice blog. Lord knows I'm pretty much the least qualified person to be giving dating advice anyway. But, at the risk of giving bad advice, I will say this:

IF YOU'RE GOING TO FLIRT WITH A GIRL AT A BAR, HAVE SOME GAME.

I don't care if that means coming up with a list of topics to talk about and reviewing it occasionally. I don't care if that means practicing lines in the mirror before going out. I don't care if that even means trying them out on your friends for feedback. Do whatever you have to, because if you find yourself talking to a girl about SPRINKLERS for any period of time and you're NOT talking about getting in swim suits and playing in the sprinklers, nor are you the guy who came to fix her sprinklers, then you are not getting her number at the end of that conversation, my friend.

So, you know, there's my most recent horrifyingly awkward dating story. For the record, I DID try to change the subject, several times. I tried bringing my friends into the conversation. I also tried simply WALKING AWAY. Nothing would deter this guy!

PROTIP, boys: If a girl just GETS UP AND WALKS AWAY FROM YOU while you're in the middle of a sentence, that's probably a sign that you should just give up. Just saying.

And now you should tell me your horrifying dating stories in the comments so I stop wondering if I'm the only one that attracts these crazies. Ready go.

The Nouns.

{I don't honestly know whose this is. But it isn't mine.}

I've gotten to the stage after a break-up where I flirt with basically everything that moves. Well, and is male. Mostly. Anyway, this is a dangerous stage for me. Because I inevitably end up meeting (or just noticing) someone really cool and deciding I'm totally ready to be in a relationship again BUT I'M REALLY NOT THIS TIME.

And even though there are about five really cute and/or sweet guys in my life right now, I'm just going to keep screaming that in my head. And at y'all. Because they don't listen. Get excited.

So instead of texting them, I'm going to sit here and admit that I've gotten to a point in my life where there are some things I just won't compromise on. I've dated enough good guys (and more than enough bad ones) that my standards are high now. Come join me up here, won't you? And so, I present:

Nouns I Promise Not to Put Up With Anymore
{This list has been inspired by this post by The Frenemy. And yes, I did also agree to the Manifesto.}

• Anyone who doesn't think Friends is awesome.
• The DRUG DEALER.
• The guy that jokes about rape.
• One word text messages.
• Broken promises.
• The inability to understand that I like to be alone sometimes.
  
• Anyone who doesn't like my friends or family.
  
• Anyone who thinks depression is something you can just "get over."
• Lies.
  
• Stupid dating games.
• Slackers with no ambition.
• Guys that have slept with more girls than they are old.
  
• Someone whose feelings toward me I just kind of have to guess/assume instead of KNOW.
• The is-this-a-date-or-are-we-just-hanging-out moment.
• Someone who doesn't like to read.
• Skinny jeans on men. [Amended on 12. 11. 2010 -- some guys totally can pull this look off. Yum.]
  
• Guys who preach to me.
• Email ask-outs. CALL ME, YOU WIMP.
• Anyone who doesn't find me impressive.
• The guy that isn't okay with me having more boys who are friends than girls who are friends.
  
• Clingy guys.
• Guys that don't like to cuddle.
  
• People that party more nights of the week than they don't.
• The guy that thinks he knows what's best for me. I am a grown ass woman, I can take care of myself.
• Someone who makes me feel like I need to act differently around him.
• Jealous boys.
  
• Anyone that doesn't want to live loudly and voraciously.
  
• Someone who uses a pet name more than my real name.
• Guilt trips.
  
• The guy that I'm only interested in because he has a job and seems relatively stable and healthy.
  
• Bad tippers.
• The guy that has to act totally macho in front of his friends. The DudeBro.
• Anyone who doesn't think I. Fucking. Rock.
• The guy that's still in love with/hung up on his ex.
• Anyone that doesn't get my humor.
• Guys named Alex. (Sorry.)
• Someone who won't be up front and honest with me.
  
• Rude boys.
• The straight up refusal to dance. Ever.
  
• Somebody who isn't as excited about me as I am about him.
  
• Guys with no fashion sense whatsoever.
  
• Someone who thinks Texas is the best thing to happen to the planet ever and never wants to leave ever ever. Like, what?
• Boring people.
  
• Guys that do not stop calling me "Val," no matter how many times I say not to.
  
• SOMEONE WHO DOESN'T GET HOW LEGIT AND AWESOME I AM.

So, a deal: In return for these things, I promise not to settle or be a crazy bitch. Well, 99% of the time. And yes, I totally get that I'm probably going to end up dying alone, but I'm okay with that at this point.