we love you f

NOTE: I wrote this from about 11:30p p.m. on Wednesday, January 25th until I published it, but at that point it was 12:00 a.m. Of course. So this published the 26th, but all of these events happened on the 25th and that’s when I intended to hit publish.

Today was probably one of the saddest days of my life next to the day my mother ruined my childhood.

We put one of our dogs, F, down tonight. We found out literally yesterday that he had malignant cancer of the blood with several tumors on the spleen, liver, and most likely lungs when he collapsed randomly at the park. Thirty-six hours later and we were saying goodbye.

The collapse happened on Tuesday, and we put him down today, a Wednesday. It was so sudden.

I am heartbroken. My parents, even my father, who hates animals, are heartbroken. We loved him so much- he was the first dog my brother and I ever had. It’s not fair that he was just ten. It feels like a blink of an eye, but he actually, as my brother put it, “had a front row seat to watching us grow up.” He saw us go from middle school to high school to college. He saw both of our grandfathers pass. He watched my parents start a business, sell it, switch careers, and define their own relationship. He saw our first dates and our first cars and was there when we first came home smashed as sixteen year-olds. He greeted all of us every.single.time. we walked in the door and begged for food even at his heaviest. He was my mother’s favorite child and the best big brother and best friend to our other dog, V. She’s going to miss him so much too.

Only the good die young. And apparently that’s true for dogs too. Please send some good vibes my family’s way.

We love you, F. Thanks for being the best first dog ever.

xx

instantblonde

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adulting = woat

Sorry for the radio silence. I’ve been working, getting back to class, and slipping into the routine. Oh, and I had a ~financial intervention~ for myself too.

I have been a shopper for as long as I can remember. I even wrote about shopping and its hold on me in 2015. Even then, when I had fewer bills and less expenses, I was struggling with spending because I wanted the emotional crutch of shopping, not necessarily the things I was buying.

To be honest, it’s two years later and I’m still learning that lesson. I think I’ve been a lot better about emotional shopping, but I still need to prioritize what I spend money on so I’m not depleting my bank account every time a bill is due.

My biggest lesson, though, is how fucking hard it is to pay back loans and extinguish financial mistakes. No amount seems that big until it’s what you actually owe. It sucks to be sat down and told, “you owe $__ by __/__/__.” I tried to pretend it wasn’t real for a few days, but now I’m just chipping away at it. Even though the increments by which I’m paying it off are ridiculously small, they’ll add up. Slow and steady wins the race.

However, I am making big strides too. With my new job this fall, I was able to supplement my income and reach a savings goal of mine. I also switched banks and got my first debit card and checking account. Those milestones, if you can call them that, are exciting and a relief all at once.

I just called reaching a savings goal exciting. Who am I?

Growing up sucks, everyone. Don’t do it.

xx

instantblonde

 

four days before christmas

Four days before the best holiday of the year- I know I’m a summer girl, but I really do love it- and I’ve barely listened to any Christmas music.

I still have to buy gifts for my brother and parents- the three people whose gifts actually matter the most.

I still have yet to wrap a single present.

I haven’t decorated my room.

I have been working a ton, though, and keeping my grades up. I really haven’t been home a lot, which explains my failure to be in the spirit.

I think this Christmas has been a lot different for many reasons. One, it’s my last one really at home, and I’m trying to soak it all up while also not getting overly emotional about it. I’m so excited to move on, but the thought of not being home to put up the tree and bake cookies, basically letting go of all those little traditions that made up my childhood, is sad.  I feel like I’m distancing myself from them now before I have to be hundreds of miles away next year. Two, working retail sucks the magic out of Christmas. Even though I love my job, it shoves Christmas music and all things red and green down my throat. And I’ve wrapped every other person in this town’s presents except for mine. And three, every year I age a little more, and with aging comes a little less wonder at Christmas. It’s sad to think about, but, really, a lot of Christmas is for little kids.

Even though that sounded like I hate Christmas, I really don’t. Tonight, I think I’ll go get some hot chocolate and drive around looking at lights. Even if I am alone. And I’m going to get those four God damned gifts and wrap them before I forget.

On the plus side, though, my ‘holiday’ Pinterest board has been looking dope since about August. Here’s some eye candy.

fourdaysbeforexmasim
[via kristenscreationsonline.com]
fourdaysbeforexmas2im
[via ourunexpectedjourney.tumbl
fourdaysbeforexmas3im
[via katiebrownblog.com]
fourdaysbeforexmas4im
[bonjourblue.com]
It’s one of the best weeks of the year, everyone. Live it up!

xx

instantblonde

 

why instagram needs an untag feature

In, like, 2004, the age of uploading digital camera or Coolpix or Blackberry photos to Facebook, there was nothing better than combing through photos the morning after a night out or big event.

Thanks to Mark Zuckerberg, there was always an out if you got tagged in a duck face photo you looked fat in or a snapshot with a bottle of Absolut you didn’t want your nosy aunt to see.

I was not remotely near partying age when that was a thing, though. I still appreciate Facebook’s little shortcut to remove myself from any pictures I hate or don’t want on my timeline. But I am of partying age now, and I need Instagram to have an untag feature now.

Off the top of my head right now, sitting completely separate from my phone, I can think of at least two pictures I want to untag myself from on Instagram. I hate that I have to contact whoever posted the pic to get my name off of it. In fact, the thought of texting my spring formal date from last year that I used to be in love with to ask him to untag me from his post is repulsive.

I just really don’t understand how Instagram has added live stream, story, direct message, and zoom features but no untagging. Is this some kind of sick joke?

This beautiful creature probably wouldn’t use the untag feature, but I 100% would.

whydoesntinstagramim
[via elle.com]
xx

instantblonde

 

in the light: it sucked, kind of

If you remember my post from last Friday, the precursor to me and my friends’ Halloween festivities, you’d know that I had to see my ex and my friend as a couple for the first time.

For the purposes of full disclosure, I’m a dramatic person. I am not ashamed to feel things and own it, and I am also not ashamed to admit that I hype things up. I probably did that anticipating this party. Honestly, it wasn’t that bad.

Yes, it sucked. He didn’t say hi to me or even wave and she ignored me too. Although, I did carry an entire bottle of champagne and basically took it to the face the entire night. It hurt to see her sitting on his lap in a chair that I sat on his lap on, and I certainly didn’t want to see them singing song lyrics at each other and being BP partners. I ended up leaving early, but not for the entire reason of their PDA. I was tired and drunk and I just decided to call it quits, but not necessarily because of them.

But such is life. It sucks, and that’s that. He sucks, too, and I decided he’s not worth investing all this time and worry into. I decided I have too many things to worry about than their childish relationship or fights or sex life, something, THANK GOD, she injects into daily conversations.

Thank God for champagne and A and her boyfriend who drove me home as I was listing in the backseat and slightly tearing up about how single I am. And for my beautiful, flannel-sheet enveloped bed at the end of a long night.

And when A’s boyfriend turned the music down and asked if I was okay from the driver’s seat, I stopped laugh-crying at the state of my life and said:

inthelightitsuckedkindofgif
[via giphy.com]
He and A just laughed and turned the music up as we pulled onto my street.

xx

instantblonde

 

in the light: tonight

I really shared a lot more than I intended to in my posts about my ex. They were titled, respectively, in the dark and in the dark: again, for when I found out that he was talking to one of my friends and then for when they began dating officially, each of which happened behind my back.

It’s different now. Tonight’s the first time I’ll be seeing them as a couple. I’ve obviously seen each of them on their own, but it’ll be weird to see them together.

What’s even weirder? Could my life get any worse? Yes and yes.

Tonight’s Halloween extravaganza is going to be in the exact same house where I was with him almost two years ago. I brought him as a date to one of my functions and that night, we were that couple everyone was talking about being so cute. We were sharing a barstool and splitting drinks and dancing together.

So I not only have to return to the place where we hooked up in a closet- not one of my finer moments, I’ll admit, but I also have to see him with another girl there. They will probably hook up in that exact same closet, too, and frankly, it makes me a little sick.

I feel like everything they’ll do will under be florescent lights. My eyes are wide open now, and, honestly, I feel like it might hurt more than being in the pitch black.

Happy Halloween. I’ll definitely see some frightening things (read: slutty costumes, ex boyfriend and friend) tonight… will you?

inthelightim
[via The Daily Caller]
And if you don’t get the above reference, get the fuck out.

xx

instantblonde

 

in the dark: again

I’m sorry to disrupt my usual programming of clothes, shoes, makeup, and bitching. But I have to share a little update on something I poured my heart out about here last month.

When I found out that my friend L and the ex  were hanging out a lot as of September, I was pissed. Then, when I found out they’d been fucking behind my back since June, I was even more pissed and very hurt.

I found out that they were officially dating, though again from someone else because L somehow has a problem saying things to my face even though I see her Snapchats, follow her on Instagram, and am in group chats with her, and I’m livid.

Somehow that title makes me more rage-y than their illicit hookups did. Now I have to at least pretend to tolerate their relationship, happy couple act. That’s unfair. I’ve been a good friend to her and I genuinely don’t think I deserve this. If I were her, I wouldn’t be posting Snapchats of interlocked hands and road trips or texting the group chat about their fights. And I certainly wouldn’t be telling everyone at our last girls’ trip dinner about how he barely lasts more than a minute.

That was supposed to be me. I was supposed to be the one sitting in the front seat of his Jeep on the way to get doughnuts or drive one of his stupid, drunk friends home. We talked about him meeting my parents and hanging out with my dogs, not going to L’s family parties or taking her little brother to lacrosse practice. I texted my cousin, “That was going to be me and it’s not. And it sucks.” and it perfectly sums up how I feel. Oh, and today he was wearing a visor that I got him for his birthday two years ago when we were together. I saw it on his Snapchat story and I know L remembers when I gave it to him and I’m sure she teased him about it today. Salt on the wound, you know?

I can’t decide which I fucking hate more: the fact that a year ago I was writing about him and I still am now, or the fact that my friend is dating my ex and there’s really nothing I can do about it.

inthedarkagaingif
[via imoviequotes.com]
Me too, Rosalyn. Sometimes I think I’ll die before I stop caring about this.

xx

instantblonde