6.30.13: T.O.D

My boyfriend came to visit me this weekend and it really made me realize how lucky I am to have him in my life. For all of you girls out there (guys, too), please make sure that you're with someone who thinks they're as lucky to have you as you are to have them. Make sure they treat you like you're their world. Be sure that they respect, support, and understand your opinions, thoughts, and feelings. Communicate, compromise, and always work together.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X5_CvRH1F7U

(Louis, if you're reading this, I apologize for being sappy...and allowing all of the internet to see this freely. As you would say, ANYWHO, I love you. Thank you again for making the long drive).

6.30.13: T.O.D.

So, this summer I coached an elite lacrosse team (it was actually my old club team). This was my letter to the girls before our tournament this weekend. We went 4-0. They're 6th graders. 

Hi Team,

As you already know, I’ll be going to Spain from July 4-16 and will therefore have to miss our last tournament together. Unfortunately, I booked my trip before I knew that I would be coaching so it’s impossible for me to change the dates (If I could, I most definitely would).

With that being said, I just wanted to take some time to say Thank You. Thank you for accepting me as your coach and taking in all of the information that I’ve taught (or that I’ve tried) to teach you; Thank you for always putting your best foot (or cleat) forward and always giving me 100%; And thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for making my first coaching experience something that I’ll never forget.

This group of girls has definitely had an impact on my life. Even though it was my job to teach you, you’ve all taught me a couple of things, too. You’ve taught me that I’m not always smarter than a 6^th grader; and that Meg can beat me in a sprint; but you’ve also taught me that the love of the game still exists and the strive to succeed is your most trusted ally.

Whether we were winning four games in a row and making it to the quarterfinals at Lax By The Sea or making up a dance during the last half hour of practice for our Maryland tournament that we never actually finished or performed, you girls always knew how to put a smile on my face. Every Tuesday and Thursday, my favorite part of the day was when I was in my car, heading to practice.

Each and every one of you is so special and so talented.  I can’t even begin to tell you all how proud I am of all of you but if you want an idea, just know that I brag about this team like it’s my job to basically everyone (no shame).

So I’ll leave you with this: Don’t ever let anyone dull your sparkle. Keep striving, keep excelling, and keep believing…because I believe in each and every one of you.

If I could pick any other team, I wouldn’t.

Look out for each other.

My last practice with you is July 2. Klondike bars for all.

If anyone ever needs any advice, lacrosse or otherwise; has any questions; or just needs to reach me, my email and cell are at the end of this email.

Let's make Lax by the Cure a tournament to remember and let's show all of Jersey who the real team is (Steps doesn't have anything on us). I'll see everyone tomorrow at 5 for practice and get ready for Friday. Let's kick some butt. 

Coach Marisa

6.19.13: TOD

My unrealistic outlook on love described in a kickass song by the one and only, completely adorable Hunter Hayes:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-WOODJ7lYi0

6.16.13: Train Talks

For clarification, I haven’t taken the train again…this is just someone that I forgot about from my train ride home the other day.

Once again, I was not provided with a name because I was sitting behind her but from what I could see, she looked like a Belinda.

Belinda was meticulous…such precision. Each stroke had significance and purpose. I watched in awe as she dipped the end of her brush back in her lipstick tube to apply another coat of gloss to her already colored lips. This was the fourth time that Belinda had put the end of her brush in that damn tube.

First of all, I wanted to figure out how she managed to have such a steady hand on the train. Secondly, I wanted to know where she was going that required her to re-do her entire face on a train that was leaving the city.

Belinda was now pushing the five-minute mark…and that was just dedicated to her lips alone. I looked down at my phone to check the time. Yup, definitely five minutes. Belinda started to bore me.

Twenty minutes later and Belinda had moved onto her eyes.

I looked her up and down and gasped.

Belinda had her dark brown hair up tight in a ballerina bun with a hair net making sure that it was securely in place (which led me to believe that she was indeed affiliated somehow with ballerinas). She was wearing a nice cream-colored cardigan with a swooping bottom. Casually, she wore jeans. And on her feet…

She. Had. On. Sneakers.

I was appalled. Don’t get me wrong. I love my sneakers. But when you see someone spend over 20 minutes on a train reapplying their makeup, you would think that they have a somewhat keen fashion sense. I mean c’mon. She could’ve picked anything else! Boots, flats, heels, wedges, sandals…but she chose sneakers.

Belinda had officially and thoroughly disappointed me. 

6.14.13: TrainTalks

So today, for the first time ever (by myself), I took the train into the city to visit my boyfriend at his internship. 

Some people who take the train are very interesting...

So I've decided to blog about these people. 

Here's how it works: Whenever I take the train (I'm not sure how often that'll actually be...), I've decided to bring along my little purple leather notebook and pick one person to write about. Then, after a somewhat extensive observation period (so...about 15 seconds), write down in my little purple leather notebook what I think their life is like/about. Today, I had three people who really stood out.

I've yet to decide if I'm going to tell these stories from my point of view or theirs. I might do both depending on my mood. Each train piece will be titled "Train Talks." There's no specific reason why this will be the title...I honestly just like the alliteration. 

For the sake of my sanity (and due to the early morning wake-up call tomorrow...5:45AM PEOPLE), I'm going to write from my own point of view:

June 14, 2013. 12:21 pm.

            My mother was having a panic attack. It was honestly no big deal. I’d taken the train a million times into the city before…with friends…but never by myself…and never with a transfer…Okay, so I kind of saw her point. I was a little nervous, too.

But can someone please explain to me why she had to ask every single person that we saw at the station where they were going and to help me if I needed it? Granted, there were only two other passengers waiting along with us but of course, she had to pick the scarier-looking dude. I don’t know if she picked this guy because she thought that he could protect me (from what, though?? Getting lost? I didn’t need his help for that) or to keep me away from the crazies (which evidently ended up happening anyway).

Our first friend is a man about 23. I’m obviously using the word “friend” loosely…considering this is the same man that I was just describing above. The very same one that my mother decided was my guardian when she was putting my 20-year-old butt on the train. We were never graced with a name so for the point of this blog entry, we shall call him Trevor because he looks like that would be his name.

Trevor was an interesting fellow…especially since the first thing that he did when we got on the train was roll a blunt (I didn’t know that you could even do that on trains). I was obviously a little more than shocked and much to my relief, when Trevor was done rolling, he got off the train to smoke it. I wondered if it was good weed…like was it really that good that he had to roll it on the train right then and there? I don’t know what classifies weed as good, seeing as I’ve never smoked anything a day in my life, but Trevor seemed like he knew what he was doing. It must’ve been good weed.

Trevor was sporting black and red vans, baggy blue jeans, and a black Hurley sweatshirt. He had a buzz cut and brown hair. On his neck, he had a Chinese symbol that he undoubtedly got while he was shitfaced. Obviously, since I’m American, the only Chinese I speak is the one word that I get on the back of my fortune cookie’s fortune…so I had no idea what it meant.

Another kid, about 17, had gotten on the train sometime after Trevor and I had boarded. From where I was sitting, I could only see that he was wearing a black sweatshirt with a white tie-string. He had bags under his eyes and I couldn’t tell if his hair, which was on the longer side, was blonde or brunette since his hood stayed on his head like his life depended on it. From this point on, I will be referring to this boy as hood-kid.

Hood-kid seemed extremely friendly seeing as he was chatting up Trevor like they were old buddies (but then again, maybe he just wanted some of Trevor’s weed…he seemed like a kid who’d enjoy that sort of thing). After Trevor had gotten off, though, hood-kid became sort-of reserved and focused on his cell phone. He really liked that phone…he was constantly calling someone. I was too far away to hear what his conversations were about…but if I had to guess, they were about weed. Hood-kid started to lose my interest. I couldn’t tell if I got bored with watching him or if my need to find a bathroom ASAP was taking over.

Eventually, I realized that the bathroom thing was totally an issue and I needed one right away or else I was literally going to explode (damn my love of Starbucks venti iced white chocolate mochas). As I was on my way to the bathroom, we reached hood-kid’s stop and he descended the steps. He looked very confused. Poor hood-kid. I silently wished him luck in his future endeavors because he looked like he’d need it. See ya never, hood-kid.

As I was waiting in line for the bathroom (which took an ungodly long amount of time), some man (I want to say 28-30ish) came stumbling in. I did not like this man. I did not like this man so much that he doesn’t even get a name in this blog entry. That’s how much I did not like this man. Here’s why: 1. He stumbled in…which leads me to believe that he was a. high; b. blackout drunk; c. an idiot; d. all of the above. 2. As I was waiting in line, he thought that it’d be a-okay to cut me in line. I would’ve attacked him like a panther if that door opened and he got into that bathroom before I did. That just was not going to happen. Not over my dead body. 3. He sat next to me. I don’t like when strangers sit next to me…. and I especially hate drunk strangers who then proceed to open their idiot mouths to hit on me.

“Hey, look at me for a sec.” I turned to give him a death glare that screamed don’t you dare talk to me you psycho. “Wow, you’re gorgeous. You’re so gorgeous,” he slurred. Insults shot through my head but I kept my mouth shut. He continued. Okay, dude, I get it. How about telling me that I’m smart or athletic or something else that’s actually worthwhile? I’m not just a pretty face you jerk.

Finally, after a prolonged amount of silence on my part and numerous dirty looks, he walked away. As he left, I looked the man up and down and wondered how he even got himself dressed that morning. I rolled my eyes and realized I definitely should’ve been meaner to him…or told him that I knew kickboxing (even though I don’t).

So, based on the day that I’ve had, here are a couple train taking tips:

1.                    Go to the bathroom before you leave (OR don’t drink a large coffee from Starbucks…resist the temptation).

2.                    Keep to yourself unless you want to make some new, usually unwanted, friends.

3.                    The longer that you’re on the train, the more people that will come on. Prepare yourself to deal with assholes. They’re everywhere.

4.                    Always plan your route ahead of time.

5.                    Keep your wits about you.

6.                    Learn kickboxing just in case you have to deal with thugs/hooligans/delinquents

a.     Carry some mace or pepper spray for the same reason.