Seeing Is Believing.

P.S. You should totally follow GATNB on Instagram here!

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I often wonder what people deduce just by going through my Instagram. Judging by the last 20 or so pictures I posted, any stranger can assume that: I am a sports fan, enjoy the outdoors, am active, love being surrounded by friends, and drink lots of beer. And those closest to me, can confirm this. While a good amount of my life isn’t perpetuated on social media, what you see – is what I got. Should I feel bad if this creates “Instagram envy” amongst those who view my pictures? Fuck no.

However, according to this Relevant Magazine article (and many others) there’s a new epidemic going around town called “Social media envy” that suggests I should. While I see its validity, I refuse to apologize for looking fucking fabulous in a skintight dress while vacationing on an exotic island with my beautiful girlfriends. Posting a picture of it online should be no different, and our lives shouldn’t be judged because if it. Just like my friend Elayne said “Instagram is a curated experience. You highlight what you choose to present”. Why on Earth would you want to highlight negativity?

This might lead some people to fabricate a perfect life, but I rather see fake smiles than pictures of someone attempting to slit their wrist, or crying in the shower. Weren’t we just complaining about people who rant on Twitter and wah on Facebook? Make up your fucking minds people! You can’t please everyone, so you might as well please yourself and post what makes you happy. If that means leaving out the bad stuff, then handle it.

You have to wonder who’s worse, the person who posts a picture of themselves posing at the top of Mission Peak *ahem* lol, or the person who believes they magically appeared there without sweat and struggle? Why would someone post a picture of her and her boyfriend getting into a fight? Why would someone post an ugly picture of themselves? It just amazes me that anyone would think someone has to post something for the gratification of others.

Regardless of what the truth is, the truth is not everyone deserves to see every beautiful, bruised, and imperfect side of you. More than often, the bare face of vulnerability is even more beautiful than your last FOTD photo. All your “followers” will get to see the picture of you popping bottles once you sign that book deal, but the people who were there when you felt too discouraged to even pick up a pen will be IN the picture celebrating WITH you.

We live in a world so saturated by social media that someone else’s success is hard to avoid, but you always have the choice to use it to inspire instead of envy. Why do I follow fitness accounts? To hate fit bitches, duh! But also to collect healthy recipes, and remind myself of how I want my to look and feel.

My life is far from perfect, but what you see in the pictures is real. The smiles, the sunsets, the hugs, the memories – all real. Sometimes, it’s even more fun than it looks. But if you really want to get to know what my interests are, who I be with. Things that make me smile, what numbers to dial. If you want to know the real me, just ask.

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Are You That Somebody That I Used To Know?

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Sorry I’m Not Sorry.

I’ve come to the realization that I’m an asshole. I know, I know – I’m late. Fuck you. I consider myself a good friend, but I’m def not the best person to talk to if you’re looking for some sugar-coated sympathy. I’m not the friend that’s going to be on your side just because we’re friends. I’m not going to pretend like I can’t see past all the bullshit. And I’m not going to tell you to follow your heart when we both know its GPS is broken.

I’m going to be the friend that calls you out on your bullshit, and doesn’t mind you doing the same. I’m going to be the friend that shakes my head at you when you leave GNO to fuck some loser that keeps breaking your heart, but will still pick you up at his house in the morning. I’m going to be the friend that will never approve of a man that obviously doesn’t deserve you, but never wants to see you sad either. I’m going to be the friend that may never agree with all of your ideals, but will love you for them regardless.

I know it makes me sound like a hater, but the only thing I hate is seeing you settle. 

So to my friends, I’m sorry. I’m sorry if I’m not the easiest person to talk to about things. I’m sorry if I’m the overprotective friend that should just keep her mouth shut sometimes. And I’m sorry if my “tough love” comes off as me being judgmental. I just want the absolute best for you, and I’m sorry I want that more than you do.

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More Than A Woman.

The older I get, the more I find myself greeting more friends than family on Mother’s Day. Some of my friends kids are the same  age as when we first met, and that just weirds the shit out of me, because I remember WTF we were doing at 14 … homework, and softball of course.

At my age now, my mom was toting around a pretty little, grown ass 11-year old (hah)! I couldn’t even imagine. Where the fuck would I store mine during Governor’s Ball if I had one? I’d have issues taking care of a dog at this point in my life, what more another human being? I still get the heebie-jeebies when I touch a pregnant friends belly while their unborn baby is having a kicking frenzy!

Don’t get me wrong. Trick love the kids. Looooooove the kids. Then I see how they throw up on my friends, look down at my new Giants jersey, think OH HELL NO, and know I’m not ready. Apparently, none of my MILFy friends were either but they all have beautiful, smart children that show they must’ve did something right.

I’m not giving my friends props for being good mothers. You don’t get cookie and gold star for doing something you should be doing regardless. But I am commending you for ALSO being amazing friends, hard workers, and loving wives/girlfriends. I don’t know how you fucking do it with work, happy hours, family parties, pre-school, booty-calls, etc., but you do. So to all the mothers out there whose kids are too young to recognize the sacrifices you make for them, or have sperm donors instead of fathers to your children – if don’t nobody else tell you, I’m telling you now: HAPPY (early) MOTHER’S DAY BITCHES. You are the shit, and you are appreciated.

BTW. If you’re missing from this collage, please don’t get butt-hurt. It’s only because I couldn’t find pics of you with all your kids (probably because you’re too busy taking them), an then I just got lazy all together.

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Super Splash Brothers.

There are only two times out of the year where I am a complete mess, and that’s whenever the Warriors or the Giants make the playoffs. Between the alcohol and high blood pressure, I usually need a defibrillator on deck whenever the two are playing on the same day. I watched as the Dubs played Giants basketball against the Spurs in the first two games of the series, and damn near had a fucking heart attack. Being a young team has proved to be a blessing and a curse for us, but most of all, it’s made losing even harder. As shown in game 1, we definitely have everything that a team needs to win a series – except for experience. Thankfully, we had Klay back in game 2 and less turnovers, which resulted in our first win in San Antonia territory in 30 games there. I want to say, that even if we lose the series, I’m just glad that we broke that losing streak. However, I know I’m only saying that because I have faith believe we can win it. ‘Til Friday folks!

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Do For Like – TBT Post 12.20.10

I know a girl who once took BART all the way from Millbrae to Embarcadero and then hopped on another train all the way to Dublin/Pleasanton. The very next day she took the same Dublin/Pleasanton train to 12th and Oakland, transferred back onto the SFO/Millbrae train, and then finally hopped on the L-train home – ALL FOR A DUDE.

For those of you NOT from the Bay, lemme break it down to you like this:

This may not sound like much to some but this is the same girl who was also too lazy to take a 15 minute drive to get some Wingstop for dinner so she starved instead.

But this wasn’t just any dude, this was a dude she knew would’ve done the same for her … if he hadn’t already called in sick and drove an hour and a half just to lay next to her for a few hours, or dropped bread on her flight just so they could wake up next to each other on the other side of the continent even though they weren’t even boyfriend or girlfriend … yet.

It never ceases to amaze me, the things we are capable of doing for the person we care about. The ends we are willing to meet just to be able to squish their face in between your hands or receive a kiss from them on your shoulder. The things we do, for like – which of course then get shitted on by the things we do for LOVE.

Everyone has their own limits, promises they make to themselves that have nothing to do with the other party. But the fact we even consider smearing the line says a lot. Because when we really feel for someone, like the saying goes: “If there’s a will, there’s a way.” And if there isn’t one? Often times, we’ll make one.

So remember that the next time you make excuses for someone. Someone you know deep down inside is “just not that into you.” Be reasonable, but don’t lie to yourself. Because if someone I was crazy about drove from LA to SF for me and I was 1 phone call away from seeing them – I don’t give a fuck WHAT I was doing. Taking a shit, at lunch, or moving, you best believe I got a death grip on my phone so I don’t miss his call.

People get busy. They have basketball practice, a paper to write, and baby showers to attend, but even the president has time to take his wife out to dinner every week. There’s a difference between someone being busy, and someone just being too busy for YOU.

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The Only Lying I Would Do Is In The Bed With You.

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