Coffee and a Conversation
As Told Over Brunch is a home for intelligent discourse from the twenty-something perspective - so the stuff you gossip about over mimosas on Sunday morning or over takeout on your friend's couch when happy hour ends too early. We love chatting about our lives, whether it be the relationships we’re building (or destroying), lessons we've learned at work, struggles at school, growing pains we've felt, or even the food we’re talking over.
I'm hoping y'all are enjoying time with your families, but since you're looking at this, you must be looking for somewhat of a reprieve. So instead of sitting around your family reflecting upon your own memories, here are four of my favorite Christmas Pasts:
I don’t do music. In middle school band, I would bite my clarinet reed before every big performance and then mime along. It was so bad that at eighth grade graduation, I was asked to emcee rather than play.
This doesn't mean I don’t listen to music. I am at my most zen with iced coffee in hand and Spotify in my ear. I have even penned lyrics to songs that will never be developed because people probably would rather pay to not listen to tone deaf me sing.
Thankfully, other people produce music – including some of my friends. College is a time ripe with opportunity, and as a scheming opportunist, I’ve only ever aligned myself with people like that. Just kidding. But I do have a friend who has been on a conference call with Beyoncé. I say this as someone who’s not that impressed by Queen Bey (put up the partition, please), but like, he was on the phone with Bey. I don’t think it’s coincidence that rhymes with #bae.
Read MoreThis past summer was the first time I went to multiple (well, any, actually) country concerts. These were a staple in many of my friends' lives. The huge pregame, lawn seats, cowboy boots, sundresses and airplane bottles tucked into every nook and cranny for the show. I mostly followed suit, minus the attire. And it was great! I saw Luke Bryan and questionably another artist. We were all the way in the back, so when the duet (or tri-et?) he does with Florida Georgia Line began, it was easy to convince myself that Florida Georgia Line actually showed up. Sober Sara knows they didn't, but at the time, I thought I was having a heart attack because it was the best thing that happened all day.
Where I am going with this is that country concerts are a blast. There's an expectation of alcohol, you get to be outdoors, with all your friends and in the presence of music. But they are nothing compared to an indie/alternative rock concert.
Read MoreLast week we let you know we had something in store you all. This week it's time to let you know what it is: Next Sunday we will be debuting a new blog. We're still holding back a few details so that it's more of a surprise, but from our picture last week, you may have deduced that it's going to be brunch-themed. Check out our Facebook event and invite your friends to next week's launch! You can also find us on Twitter at @ToldOverBrunch! Also, be sure to subscribe to this blog in the box on the righthand side of the home screen. Starting next week Tweets and Mascara will redirect to the new blog.
In the meantime, here's a poll to occupy you (though I wish it wasn't called PollDaddy; awkward much?):
[polldaddy poll=8522411]
Be sure to drop by next Sunday for the debut!
Read MoreI hate to be one of those people who says, "Let's not talk about it," because really, I only want to talk about it more after you say that. But here is a list of things I'd rather not discuss while reuniting with family and friends over the holidays.
Grad school. Like, OMG, number one thing people want to ask me about. I know they say grad school is supposed to break you before it does - well, whatever it's $uppo$ed to do - but I didn't know it would have me questioning what is a truly healthy amount of apathy, dissatisfaction (does that negate the apathy), and why the heck don't I just teach elementary school art???
Hillary. Yes, she's going to run. And if she's not, is the fighting worth it? Pass the pie.
Read MoreMy friend visited me recently and told me she only had $40 to spend for the week. At dinner she ordered the soup du jour. She was saving up, she explained, for a bunny. She had already bought the cage, which included hardwood floors . . . . . That's almost as crazy as orchid babysitters.
I asked what she was going to name the critter. Now my friend and I bonded seasons ago over our mutual aspirations to be lawnies - a South African term for acting pretentiously rich, or so her South African boyfriend at the time told us. It's even more lawny that it's a South African term. So obviously the bunny needs a lawny name, which I excel at since I named my dog in sixth grade Guinevere (yes, of Arthurian legend). What follows is her list of possible names and my reactions.
Read MoreAll month I have been receiving texts from friends asking for my address. You think you're being so subtle. Why oh why do you need my address? At this point I don't even ask; an inevitable Christmas card is on its way.
I want to say, Stop; don't send it. The text asking for my address was enough effort. No need to pay whatever cents to send me a holiday note. But that would make me Scrooge.
I'm still trying to wrap my head around why we send cards. I actually enjoy the life update ones aka the bulleted lists of "my son is saving the refugees in Africa, my daughter is getting her MD and engaged to a senator's son, and we just rescued a puppy mill golden retriever." Admittedly we're all eye rolling at the Joneses' mass-printed "Our grass is greener" digest, but at least I'm learning something other than "Does this friend avoid saying 'Merry Christmas'? Oh, and cute stamp."
Read MoreCazey and I are pregnant! Jokes!
No, but we have something in the works that we think you'll like. Since a picture is worth a thousand words, here's a hint:
Stay tuned and subscribe in the right hand column to be alerted of upcoming changes!
When I was little, I had chicken pox. And because I was little (and itchy), I scratched a tiny hole into the bridge between my eyes. From then on, I had a scar. When I was a bit older, I fell a bit and had a pretty nice look scuff on my knee. That left a faint, but present scar.
Then in high school I tried hurdles, got all caught up and fell. In that one act, I sprained an ankle, ripped open another knee and was substantially bleeding out of my elbow. Healed (but cankle-like), scar, scar.
The next year, I got an elbow to the face during a soccer game and needed stitches in my cheek. Facial scar.
Read MoreIn my youth, I befriended people on Facebook who I would not even speak to, but hey, I saw you at that party last night. It’s all about networking, right? Now I have to talk to you for a minimum of 15 minutes before I click “Add.” That doesn’t mean I’ll remember you in six months when I see you on my newsfeed For example:
Stella: My best friend and I went to the river a couple of months before I moved to Richmond, VA. Two girls started talking to us, both college freshmen. They were high and looking to get higher. One was Stella (obviously). The other had dropped out of school after some sort of drug incident, and ever since her parents wouldn’t allow her to be alone. That weekend her babysitter was Stella. Somehow my friend and I took selfies with these girls, and so we had to become Facebook buddies so we could be tagged. Except Stella never posted the photos.
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