When You Said Topical I Thought You Were Talking About Ointment

And that's how my brain works. There's everything that's happening in the real world ... and then there's my world. It's only natural that when somebody says that his statement is "relevant and topical," I think of an ointment. The fact that my blog title has a comma and a period after bros also sums up my life. It's unsure... it's awkward... but I like it.

So you know how people can midlife crisis multiple times? Well at least my dad did but his was like deja vu. He got a tattoo and a motorcycle. A few years later he went for the repeat. Got a bigger bike and added to his tattoo. I guess I followed in my dad's footsteps, only I went for the quarterlife crisis. My first go around I decided I needed to move to New York. Overall a pretty spectacular decision. I think I'm quarterlifing again but I decided... to blog. Whooooa. WILD. Problem with this decision is I thiiiiink that blogging was cool a solid 10 years ago but I've never been one to claim that I'm part of the trendsetters group but I do plan on heading the Bring Back Blogging movement.

I'm a 4'9 girl that was apparently not born with a filter on my mouth. I wasn't actually born 4'9 obviously... but I reached that height at 13 and apparently decided that's as tall as I wanted to go. With that said how could somebody that tall (or short depending on if you're a glass half empty type of bro) go through life and not have entertaining stories to go along with it? I actually think the small stature and lack of filter go hand in hand. Nobody wants to get mad at a short girl. I'm the same size as most children....in fact there's a good portion that are taller than me.

Since I hit that glorious age of 21 and could finally get into the bars, I've experienced things most people haven't. It's that terrifying feeling where one minute your feet are firmly planted on the ground and the next thing you know... you're floating in the air. I'm not referencing the fact that I fall all the time (signature drunk move - deserves a post of its own) but the fact that bros take the term "picking up a girl" literally. I've become an expert in weighing my body down and the "help me" move. The "help me" move consists of the look of sheer terror and the outreached hand to closest friend and depending on the moment, a possible mouthed "help meeee."This is just one small struggle. I have many... and they're all entertaining.

It's Friday and all I can think about is how my life needs more beer, more bros, and moooore blogging!