Why My Alma Mater ROCKS!

Because it produces young minds that do stuff like this:

Protest letter from one of K's peers

*smooches...so proud of my baby and her peers*
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our future might not be so perilous after all, with smarties like these at the helm.

Irrational Thought Of The Day: Fuck Matt!

So I'm on the phone catching up with a friend and he mentions a news article about an Olympic archer named Matt Stutzman...who just happens to have been born without arms. The normal person would, of course, hear about Matt and think, Wow! That's so inspirational. He's amazing!

Well I'm Raquel. I'm not normal. And FUCK MATT!

Why? Because I was born with all my necessary parts in perfect working order, brain firing on all cylinders and above average beauty and intelligence (SHUT UP!!). And what have I done with my 37 years on this planet? A whole lot of motherfucking NOTHING!

"Raquel, you haven't made your first million yet? Well did you hear about this dude, Matt Stutzman, he's an archer with NO ARMS and he's going to the Olympics! Fuck you doing with YOUR life?"

Matt, you make me sick!

*no smooches today...go ask MATT to kiss you*
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I can't explain why this was my reaction; it just was.

Where Were You?

Jaded in full gear

I'm closing this post to comments because I really don't want this memory marred by people who think they're funny with their Anti-Mets jokes and whatnot, as if us Mets fans don't know our team. Let me tell you something about us: we are loyal. We love our Boys of Summer, so much so that we still go to Citifield even though we preferred Shea. Even when they lose, which we are aware is often, we love them. We follow them in the good and the bad, knowing that when it's bad it's fucking terrible, but when it's good? Violins strum while a drumline pounds out the soundtrack to a thousand back-to-back orgasms.

On Friday, June 1, 2012, MY BOO JOHAN SANTANA, did this:



I am SO PROUD to be a Mets fan right now. While Santana is getting all the panties glory for this Amazin' feat against the 2011 Champs from St. Louis, his team members were there to help make it happen, especially Mike Baxter who nearly fucked up his shoulder to keep the no-hit bid alive.



And if that weren't enough, R. A. Dickey pitched 9 innings of a shut out game on Saturday and Niese won Sunday's game 6-1. Bravo, my loves. Bravo. Fuck whatever happens from now on... this is our World Series!

*smooches...just for the Mets tonight*
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I've been wearing my Mets gear all weekend...the biggest bonus? Twice the games ended with pitches striking out that wack ass Carlos Beltran. WHOOP WHOOP!

Jaded Photographs: June 2012 Edition

"Almost Home"

*smooches...plotting on how I can grab one of these off the wall*
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it would make the perfect graduation gift for K!!

A Jaded Moment In History Presents: A Friend For Life

You ever think back to the day you first met one of your closest friends and pinpoint the exact moment you knew this new person would be in your life forever? Last week I experienced this as I remembered how Celia and I became BFFs. (She's probably going to be embarrassed by this but whatever; she'll get over it!)

AU selected us to be roommates but we got along right away. In fact, we got along better than any of the other roommates on our whole floor! But it wasn't until this one crucial moment that I knew we were a match made in the ResLife office.

Young Jaded + Celia in an AU photo studio

I had just started dating my now ex-husband, C, and I'd slept over his dorm after spending a whole evening with him. NO JUDGMENTS. That morning, C and I were talking and he said something to the effect of "Don't take what we have too seriously" or "Don't fall for me" implying that we weren't a real couple (I'M SO STUPID FOR NOT PICKING UP ON THAT SIGN!). I was so hurt and enraged that I stormed out before he could see me cry and stomped all the way across the valley to my dorm room, tears and snot clouding my vision.

I burst open the door to my room and Celia's there with one of our classmates, and in between sobs I explained how that jerk hurt my feelings, etc, throwing myself on my bed oh-so-dramatically. Then Celia said, "Don't worry, we still love you! And look what we got you!" She pointed to the area next to my bed and what did I see? My beautiful roommate had swiped some townie's mailbox. Just for me.

Older + Wiser at a Stamford Bar. Allegedly.

Instantly I forgot all about that morning and my sobs turned into hysterical laughter. In that moment everything was right in the world (well, maybe not for the townie who was now missing a mailbox...).

Who knew that the cure for a broken heart was a stolen mailbox? Celia, that's who. Tis why I still love her to this day!

*smooches...still smiling at that random memory*
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this is proof that boys come and go, but your girls are forever!