Archives For boys

Keep Calm And Stepan

Jacklyn —  November 6, 2013 — Leave a comment

I am the first person to admit that I don’t know jack about hockey. In fact, I really don’t care about adding hockey or any other non-MLB sport to my life. At least, that’s what I thought until last weekend.

The Boy [yes, the one from Fries With Steak Sauce] is a die hard, eat/sleep/breathe, has probably considered a commemorative tattoo, walking encyclopedia type fan of the New York Rangers. I’m talking season ticket holder with season ticket holder parents, #NYR memorabilia all over the house, Rangers-only t-shirts [my personal favorite is the one that says ‘Let’s Get Nashty’ because, well, isn’t it obvious?], Rangers blanket, Rangers scarf, Rangers artwork. Rangers. Rangers. Rangers. Him accepting me into his life meant that I was to be educated on hockey and I would be destined to become a fan. For me, it meant a solid time block where I was not allowed to call, text or email and expect a response several times a week. It also meant I’d be dealing with playoff beards [ickle] and a grouchy bastard whenever the team didn’t play up to his standards.

As it turns out, pretty much all of those things are true. What came as a surprise to me is I actually enjoy them [except the grouch part, but he keeps that under control 99% of the time].

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I don’t know how it happened and I certainly don’t know when, but however and whenever don’t seem to matter all that much; what matters is how I choose to move forward from this point on. I don’t think I could be more excited than I am at this very moment.

Relationships never really scared me until now. I think that’s because I was always in one or jumping into the next one, each time becoming more disillusioned with every man [boy] that disappointed me. With each failure, I threw on one more layer of armor, one more layer of whatthefuckever, one more layer of fierce independence that I’ve been very apprehensive about shedding — until now.

I don’t know what happened. I don’t feel like I need to know. I just want to be thankful and enjoy the journey that is ahead of me, wherever, whatever it may be.

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I can finally strike “be a groupie” from my bucketlist. Take a second and let that one sink in, y’all.

This weekend, I flew to Philadelphia to visit my elementary school heartthrob and see his band play a gig. It was probably one of the most incredible experiences of my life for a number of reasons. First, my second grade love is the lead singer for a truly awesome band [swoon] and the music is actually really good. I love their music and if you’re into a mixing of classic rock riffs with modern pop-rock melodies and a bit of prog in the time changes [his words, not mine] you will probably love them, too. Check them out here: [Spotify] [Interwebs] [Facebook].

The singer and guitarist picked me up from the airport Friday afternoon and I rode with them in a van jam packed with instruments each probably even twice as expensive as my iPad. We hung around all day catching up and I was there for a preshow practice/goof off sesh that lasted the better part of an hour. Part of what was so incredible about hanging out with these two is that I’m not a musician and didn’t experience the same geeking out they did when certain songs came on the radio in the restaurant [Stairway to Heaven, ha] or when they would jokingly swap instruments with each other and try to play the same song. As a web nerd, I get people flipping out over super slick interactions, design and new concepts, but musicians, man they are a different breed. Sometimes I forget I live in such a small bubble and that people can be passionate about things other than the internet, pitbulls and dancing.

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Hard + Right

us —  August 9, 2012 — Leave a comment

Yeah. We’re the girls quoting The Fray. Guilty. But I [Hey y’all, Jack here.] saw this somewhere last week [Twitter, probably], and I felt compelled to write it down. It’s been sitting next to my computer since. And then this morning, it made more sense.

Then I shared it with Whit, and it resonated with her too.

What follows are the immediate reactions [read: word vomit] to realizing why this lyric impacted us both so sharply.

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I’m looking for a real southern gentleman living somewhere in Atlanta [preferably ITP].

Requirements:
You know what manners are and you know how to use them. You’ll race me to open doors and pull out my chair [or my mother’s, if she is with us]. You respond to others with “yes ma’am” and “yes sir,” no matter their age or whether you know them. After all, it’s a sign of respect. You will always offer to help, whether it’s carrying my groceries, running an errand or walking the dog.

You don’t make empty promises and you always follow through. You realize that every conversation means something, and you do your best to remember what we talk about and file the important pieces away for later. You call when you say you will. You’re predictable when it matters and spontaneous when it’s appropriate.

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