Happy Daddy’s Day

With the modern day generation having smart phones glued to their hip, it’s no wonder that holidays have been corrupted by social media.  On Christmas, photos of the best gifts are neatly arranged and cropped so that all of your friends, enemies, and other random people that creep on your life can appreciate what you were spoiled with.  On Valentines Day, you brag about your magical date with the love of your life, or take a picture of your super cool cat to emphasize singledom (been there). On Easter, the kids that receive candy and the kids that have their parent’s love bought by everything else become divided.  Today is Father’s Day and pic stitch-ed instagram photos have found their way onto Facebook and Twitter to prove who loves daddy best.  Do we not see what’s happening?

How sad.

These holidays have turned into, “be jealous of my life, I’m cool” days.

photo (12)

Did I upload a photo? Yea.  And then I thought about it, how many dads have an instagram?  My dad doesn’t even have a Facebook (thank God), he certainly won’t see the Sepia filtered photo I asked him to take at the BBQ this afternoon.

Why can’t we tell our fathers how much we love them face to face, on their big day?  Why do we have to make a filtered photo on an app with a 3 paragraph long list of reasons you love them, reasons they might not even see?


I’m making it a point to tell my dad how much I love him today.  He is lying on the couch watching golf with a beer, drifting in and out of his dreams.  My sister has interrupted him 3 times to find out if she can go on the computer, eat a snack, etc.  He mumbles responses, he is exhausted.  Daddy works hard, he deserves a day.  He deserves to know that his hard work is acknowledged.  He deserves more than the instagram photo and Ralph Lauren T shirts I bought him.

After all, we all know that was a gift from me to me.  I wanted him to have those, more than he probably did.

Daddy came to my field hockey games and bowling matches in high school, he always gives me hugs when he is proud of me, and sure he makes me angry from time to time.. but that’s what dads are for.  He loves his family and we love him.

Why brag?

Daddy let me bring a kitten home.  Daddy is standing behind my decision to run away to New York City.  Daddy puts food on the table. Blah Blah Blah…

What about the people that don’t have a daddy as cool as mine?  We should be embracing dads, and everything they do: but bragging is not the answer.  Why put up a picture with a 5 mile long caption that could make other people feel bad??

Were you reading this post looking for fashion advice? Sorry. Here’s some advice to make you look prettier:

Be humble.  Be happy, that you have/had people in your life that are wonderful.  Make sure they know how much you appreciate them on a daily basis: not just on the day your calendar decides you should, everyday.  Don’t make it a Public Service Announcement.  (God forbid you’re classy)

If you wear pearls while taking my advice, even better.




I’m gracious for gifts.

Hiyaa loves,

I hope you all enjoyed your Christmas, I certainly did.  I would be lying if I said I am no longer counting the moments until I go back to Canisius, but besides that..

Alot of family.  Family is good, but so is candy.  In small doses.

I was definitely blessed by my parents this Christmas, I really loved the things I received.  I bet you’re not shocked to know I got clothes and shoes, but it was awesome.

Some of the honorable mentions are as follows:

pink flats


rl(monogrammed in the back with a leather strap, SO CUTE)


I was given so many scarves, it’s incredible. I cannot wait to wear new sweaters, leggings, and scarves with my boots.  It’s such a good look and so comfortable.  I wish I remembered to bring them to my grandparents, I had to take “cousin pictures” this morning so I was dressed up, but now I have changed into sweats.  Thankfully I’m not in public.

I had to borrow my nana’s sweatshirt.  Words can’t describe the trend I’m rocking right now..


Sometimes I feel like Marilyn Monroe.

It’s almost like anticipating my homework is so much worse than doing it.

I woke up this morning, missed mass at 9 initially so I went to 11, and felt a storm of stress pressing down on me. I let it ruin my day, and sure 90% of my day was filled with homework, but I survived didn’t I?

And I got done more than I expected. Remember that To-do list I posted a few blogs back? Well if you don’t, I suggest you subscribe so that you never miss a beat ;), but I made a dent in that list! *applause*

And now you know what I am making a dent in? Cookies and Cream icecream.

It’s phenominal. Don’t judge me.

My molar? Cap thing? Fell out. And I’ve had a stuffed face (sinuses, nose, and ears haha) for the last what seems like an eternity, so this ice cream feels heavenly and I just had an epiphany. I can actually taste it.

It’s 9:17! I am in AWE to say that it is a high possibility I will not be studying for my business organization quiz (I’ve given up honestly) and will be in bed before nine. After I’m done blabbering about my life and playing Marilyn Monroe by Nicki Minaj  (it’s so good. so easy to relate to, which says a lot from a non-rapp loving preppy)  for the 10th time in a row I believe I am going to move on with my brilliant ideas for fashion camp and gawk at all things glittery on Oriental Trading.

These 9-11 year olds are going to be the most fashionable girls since I was their age.

I’m the one on the end, just in case you’re blind (: and oh, I was in my prime during this photo. Nine and as naive as they come. I’ll take that back any day.

Anybody want to trade? Ask your kids. The only thing I would like is to be allowed to pick out my own clothes. I was never big on someone forcing me into overalls (my mother wasn’t exactly as blessed in the naturally gifted style department as I am…) and I still wouldn’t be.

I do like the pre-matched sets you can buy at Ralph Lauren for girls though.

Very preppy.

Just a note. (;

This photo from Ralph Lauren is how cute I THOUGHT I looked in my roses dress.

Little did I know I would look back on all of my younger wardrobe and not feel the same love. I’m learning with age though, 1/3rd of my wardrobe is absolutely classy.

The other 2/3rds? Are perfect when mixed with the other third but if I was honestly completely happy with my wardrobe, why would I still be making mall trips?

It’s simply coincidental that the fabulous third is all my hand wash and delicates.

Thank God I’m not going away to college. My mother is a wonderful person for addressing those.

(insert imaginary photo of her here, she hates pictures :()

Love you all, almost as much as her.


Call it a curse, or just call me blessed. If you can’t handle my worst, you aint getting my best. Is this how Marilyn Monroe felt? Must be how Marilyn Monroe felt.