This is for the sake of kissing, I guess.

Not to toot my own horn, but I like to think I am quite the chapstick connoisseur. I use chapstick probably about a billion times every day, and after many years of that (and, therefore, loads of chapstick shopping), I might've become quite the expert.

The following is a list of what to look for in your own chapstick. 

1. Begin with the packaging. It's no fun to kiss a boy who isn't pretty, and it's no fun to use chapstick that doesn't come in a pretty package. Perhaps it has a green lid. Perhaps it comes in a very tall and very skinny tube. Perhaps it is short and fat. Perhaps it is lovely and colorful. It's up to you, really.

2. Then look at the flavoring. I like chapstick with flavor. But not, like, gross flavor. Not black licorice flavored or something. The one I'm using right now is pear flavored. I happen to know that Katie likes vanilla flavored chapstick. Maybe you like chapstick with no flavor at all. Follow your heart.

3. Move on to the way it appears when it is on your real actual lips. I don't like chapstick that is sparkly or sticky looking. I prefer a nice soft shine - or possibly nothing at all. I like it when it makes my lips look hydrated rather than, you know, chapped. But maybe you love sticky sparkles. I suppose if you love sticky sparkles you ought to look into lipgloss instead. Or Softlips Pearl.

4. Finally, after it has sat for a moment, decide if you like the way it feels. Your mouth is imperative: You need it for kissing and smiling and laughter. If your lips feel awful, none of the aforementioned activities will be any fun at all. I like chapstick that's just like, "Hey, I'm going to hydrate your lips and make them feel all soft - but not like, numbsoft. Just soft. I also won't make your lips feel all sticky. That's not my job." I think most people would agree.

When you finally find one that meets the bespoken criteria, buy it. Love it. Un-chappify with it.

I'm completely obsessed with the chapstick I am using currently. It's the best. It's pear flavored and green in the tube, but goes on clear (sort of like that glue that is purple but dries clear as to not ruin your art project). Unfortunately, I got it from my uncle who is a dentist in the northwest corner of the United States. If you're ever in West Linn, Oregon, ask for Dr. Westover and if you can have some of his pear chapstick. You'll be happy for life, probably.

Je respire le feu.

All my love,

Addy

Crystal (well, you know...)

I am stuck in the crevice between real life and fake life. If I'm being honest, I don't like it here much. Both real and fake life seep their ways in and make my head spin.


I promise you I'm not insane. Let me explain "fake life" and "real life" to you. It's really not all that confusing, but people seem to think I'm loosing my mind when I say things like, "It happened in real life," thinking that of course it happened in real life. Ha. False.


The following things occur in fake life:


1. Boys love me (and you, for that matter (not that they don't love you already (because they really actually do))). In fake life, boy are always like, "I love you," and sometimes I'm like, "I love you back."
     1b. Boys try to kiss me. So much, in fact, that it is exhausting. When they're totally beautiful I usually give in and I'm all, "Okay, okay."


2. Fake life is also when nothing feels real. Perhaps you've woken up at, say, five in the morning and headed off to dance in a parade: Definitely gonna be a fake-life day.


3. In fake life, romantic experiences don't freak me out.


6. In fake life, boys toss rocks at windows and life is a bit like an '80's movie.


7. Fake life is full of spontaneous bursts of song and dance. It's sort of like a musical. All the time. And everyone harmonizes perfectly pretty much every second of (fake) life.


8. In fake life, Matt Davis never wears a shirt. (What?)


In real life, however, boys don't always love me and I don't always love them back. They also don't try and kiss me. Real life feels real, three out of four romantic experiences send me into small anxiety fits, and life is like 2011, not '80's movies (or even real life '80's). In real life, most people can't harmonize or dance, let alone do both at once. Plus also, Matt Davis wears shirts in public. It's fine.


That, my friends, is the difference between fake life and real life. It's not all too confusing. You have fake life, too. Admit it.


But here I am down in this crevice where some boys love me, but I don't love them back. Where half the day is very fake and the other half all too raw. Where only two out of four romantic experiences are giving me angst. Where people dress like they're in the first few minutes of 13 Going on 30, but no one is standing in my yard with a boom box. Where musicals are real life on stage, but then I realize that I'm getting weird looks from the window washers in my basement when I am singing RENT really, really loudly in my house. And Matt Davis was spotted shirtless. Once. It's fine.


It's exhausting in here - in this crevice. Sometimes I don't mind it all too much, but when things happen that I can't differentiate between, I get angst and my head hurts and I run away super quick.


So, if you're looking for me, I'm just here, down in this little mixed-up crevice. I bet you will be able to find me here for a while, I fear. 


"Anxiety killed the cat, probably."


Maybe someday we'll each have an Independence Day of our own.
All my love,
Addy


[Edit: I just realized I left out numbers 4 and 5. I'm not going to fix it, though. Ha, ha.]

Facts.

I hate facts. Because sometimes, facts suck. They say things like, "If you want to not be fat, you need to sleep and eat healthy things and run and stuff." That's a fact. Another fact? "Boys are really stupid." I'm not a huge fan of that fact either. Or possibly, "Your Ipod broke and the new Ipod that is really old that you are using just froze and is being a meanie." Or sometimes, facts say, "We used to be really best friends and then something happened inside of us and it is uber weird now." That's a fact.

But sometimes, on rare occasions, facts say something like, "Bianca is nice and I really like her and she is becoming the oddest best friend I have ever acquired in all of my life." Or, "Hayley is reading my blog and I love her." Maybe they say, "Mallory and Hannah are awesome and cute." Or possibly, "We sat and laughed together for nearly an hour today and no one else in the whole wide world mattered right then because he has beautiful eyes and I'm positively joyful about the whole ordeal." Or sometimes they say, "I get to work at a wedding tonight." Of course, these are very nice facts and I am terribly glad that they are real, actual facts and not just fragments of my over-worked imagination.

I wore a a bright pink sweater today, too. That is how beautiful this day was.

Nothing can ruin this beautiful day. ("Nothing," Katie would say, "Except for forgetting your chapstick.)

Fall in love.

All my love, Addy