Aviator Mermaids

I get up early. I stay up late.

Posts tagged love

9 notes

Tearin' Up My Heart

me:
I probably still have a few VHS tapes with recorded Nsync appearances.
D:
You truly were obsessed.
me:
I was 13, and you have no idea. My Justin Timberlake marionette might be worth something one day.
D:
haha At least they were more talented than the Backstreet Boys.
me:
I officially love you a little bit more.

Filed under *N sync Justin Timberlake marionette here's my heart- no strings attached love relationships old school important similarities the fact that he said Nsync was more talented than BSB without being prompted reminds me that we are meant for each other.

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Pink Depression Glass

Against my will, I’ve collected Pink Depression Glass piece by piece since girlhood. My Southern grandmother would mail surprise UPS packages to my brother and I sporadically. This started so early that for a long time I thought UPS was pronounced like the word ups. “The ups man is here!” I’d exclaim gleefully at the first brown truck sighting.

She loved to mail anything creative or unexpected: weaving loom kits, French lullaby books, intricately sewn Halloween costumes, a flamingo-shaped toy windmill, a porcelain rabbit that dispensed cotton balls out of its tail, etc. Then, for a stretch of time, she kept sending my brother toys and action figures, but I would receive a domed butter dish or a dessert plate made from cubed Pink Depression Glass circa 1929-1933. It kind of bummed me out.

The glass stayed carefully wrapped and stored in a sealed container in the basement. On a whim this week, I decided to open the container and pull everything out piece by piece. I couldn’t appreciate having a set of antique dinner plates, serving platters, and creamers when I was ten. I think my grandmother probably knew that. Now that I’m older, I feel like she’s giving me these dishes for the first time, even after she’s gone. My Pink Depression Glass collection is invaluable to me now. I think my grandmother probably knew that would happen too.

Filed under pink depression glass collection pretty life's short. use the good dishes Southern living tea party birthday grandmother gifts 1929 - 1933 wisdom love fancy nancy birthday

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You know what’s wrong with you, Miss Whoever-you-are? You’re chicken, you’ve got no guts. You’re afraid to stick out your chin and say, ‘Okay, life’s a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that’s the only chance anybody’s got for real happiness.’ You call yourself a free spirit, a ‘wild thing,’ and you’re terrified somebody’s gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you’re already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it’s not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It’s wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself.
Breakfast at Tiffany’s (via sarakatherine)

Filed under DAYUM Breakfast at Tiffany's Raging Reds Audrey Hepburn Moon River Remember that scene where Paul and Holly wore dog and cat masks respectively? I wish I napped in false eyelashes and fancy ear plugs with tassles 'Ello Cat No one is more glamorous than a Midwestern girl pretending to be a New Yorker love relationships oh my gosh and remember the ending when they kiss in the rain? swoon I'm not normally this enthusiastic about romance- I swear

9 notes

Pink Baby: A Tale of Love, Loss, Revenge and Forgiveness

Pink Baby was the first thing I ever loved that I perceived to be smaller than me. I may have been the baby of my family, but Pink Baby was my baby. I vaguely remember her standing lifeless in a glossy box under the Christmas tree when I was a toddler. She couldn’t talk. She didn’t walk. She came with only the pink dress on her back. I don’t think she could even blink her eyes. Pink Baby needed me, and I loved her instantly.

It wasn’t long after I christened her Pink Baby, that she earned a coveted role of One of My Favorite Toys (OoMFTs). As anyone who has ever been a child can tell you, there are toys and then there are OoMFTs. My early childhood OoMFTs consisted of my favorite Teddy Bear I named Bunky, a Madame Alexander baby doll who came with the name Puddin’ on her tag, and Pink Baby. In reality, Puddin’ probably cost around $100 and only came into my possession as a gift from my grandmother. Pink Baby came from Santa Claus, or more specifically, Wal-Mart for 10 bucks. I loved them equally because I didn’t see them any differently.

Naturally, I grew up, gave away most of my toys and packed a precious few away. The exception being Bunky. He’s sitting next to me while I type this. I don’t remember when I stopped playing with Pink Baby or where she ended up. I guess I kind of imagine her being played with and loved on a farm somewhere just like our first puppy, Buffy.

At least that’s how my personal Toy Story 3 ended until yesterday. I was reminiscing with my brother about childhood this and that when he said something strange.

"Man, I still feel bad about Pink Baby."

"What are you talking about?"

"That time I threw her down on the asphalt, and it left a huge dark mark on her head."

"WHAT?!" I swear I had one of those moments you see in movies where someone has been repressing the truth only to have a flashback vision (i.e. Bruce Willis in Sixth Sense, Natalie Portman in Black Swan, etc.) appear. Suddenly, I had a mental image of Pink Baby with a black line across her bald head like the Prime Meridian separating her frontal lobes.

"I didn’t think anything would happen. I was mad at you, so I threw her down on the driveway. I felt really bad once I realized I had ruined your favorite thing.”

"You ruined my favorite thing??!?!?"

I seriously cannot remember much about this episode. Maybe I cried. Maybe I didn’t. All I know is that I didn’t even bother to hold a grudge that I could have been milking for years. I guess as much as I loved Pink Baby, I loved my brother more.

But I was still a little mad at him yesterday.

Filed under Pink Baby Toy Story Puddin Childhood Memories Sibling Wars Love Loss Revenge Forgiveness everything you have ever owned is somewhere right now I suck at holding a grudge OoMFTs codependency I have loved and lost

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me- “If you ran the Eastern hemisphere of the world, and I ran the Western hemisphere of the world, the world would have a nuclear end by noon.”
Joe- “HAHAHAHAHA We do escalate pretty fast.”

….

me- “I realized you can’t stand to not be good at something.”
Joe- “It does bother me a bit, but there are plenty of things I am rubbish at.”
me- “Name one.”
Joe- “Like, playing the guitar and making fruit roll ups.”
me- “Making fruit roll ups from scratch?”
Joe- “I have never made fruit roll ups, so I assume it would be disastrous.”

….

Joe- “I will also say I am not great at hashtags, but I study from the master.”
me- “Who is the master?” (totally knew he’d say me, but I wanted him to say it!)
Joe- “You so far. The hemisphere war will begin with a smattering of hashtags across the skies.”

Joe- “I totally will be excited if you blog that quote correctly. I may tweet it.”
me- “How did you know I had my blog up already? I have it on quote, too!”
Joe- bwahahaha
me- “Creepy! Get out of my brain!”

Gmail Chat

Filed under gmail chat Basically I try to find the dorkiest people on the planet and befriend them twitter friendship Instant Message prophecy And I feel fine World Peace No Power No Problem healthy relationships sticks and stones may break my bones but hashtags will make me kill you Love fruit roll ups guitar playing neurotic soulmates