Author Archives: ohheytay

What Your Toilet Paper Says About You

I’ve found that whenever I go to someone’s house, their toilet paper speaks volumes to me about them. Here’s a little insight.

Happy Saturday!

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An Open Letter To Bacon Lovers.

To my dearly beloved bacon lovers,

This has got to stop. I understand your view that bacon is “delicious” and “the best tasting thing ever”. However, this bacon flavored everything is truly getting out of hand! I can’t walk into a store now without seeing something bacon themed. Do you realize how this makes the states seem? Fat. I, myself, have been known to enjoy (burnt) bacon, but not enough to dab eau de pig on before dinner parties. In closing, I ask that you stop wasting your monies on things like bacon tooth paste, which I know is actually too disgusting to use.

ohheytay

p.s. I’ve listed twelve bacon gifts I find truly over the top. Just the thought of some of these makes my cholesterol rise.

  

Chocolate Peanut Butter & Bacon Cookies

 

The Best Part Of Waking Up Is Puppies In Your Cup

Happy Saturday!

An Idiot’s Guide To Facebook Etiquette

 

I’m going to be real with you. I’m not the first person to rant about how annoying people are on Facebook. You can Google search and come up with about hundred blogs that list something like “five facebook faux pas”. That being said, could you learn something this time, you moron?

For the record, I’m not a Facebooker. I am a Twitterererer all the way. I don’t get on Facebook everyday and I don’t have an app for it on my phone. But as the Christmas season rolls in and I’m planning get togethers with old friends, I am finding myself on FB more and more. With fresh eyes, I am reacting to the lack of common sense on America’s favorite social network. Below are the many Facebookers who drove me to Twitter. If you’re reading this from Facebook and are guilty of most of these crimes, then this must be awkward for you!

Statuses

The Guilty Repost

Sadly, 97% of face book users will not re-post this. When Jesus died on the cross he was thinking of you. If you are the 3% who care re-post this and like it.

Because it’s Christmas time, I’ve been seeing this one a lot lately. Still, are you kidding me? I’m not reposting that crap. These types of statuses cry out “I need reassurance that I’m interesting :(”

Countdown Statuses

one 1567 more days until I marry my shnookums!!!!! ❤ ❤ ❤ 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂

STOP IT.

The Over Emo

Uncontrollable crying and I can’t stop thinking of YOU. cut cut slice slice

Oh. My. God. I realize you’re in a delicate state, but everyone has blocked you from their minifeed because they can’t stand you. Too harsh? We all know you’re calling out for help, but putting a status up after a breakup or momentary separation is pathetic. If you want to cry about it to someone, that’s what private messages are for. ya heard?

The Bragger

I’m amazing! Check out my boobs! They look sOoOoO awesome!

I’m glad you think so. No one else does.

I actually knew someone, briefly, who posted that. What I mean is people who post statuses or pictures about how awesome they are. The above statement is true 97% of the time.

The Person Who Has One Strong Point On Politics

This person loves posts a few (or many) times every day about how corrupt everything is and how awful the President is. I think you’re missing the point of Facebook. It’s a social network, not a realization that you might be the next Lee Harvey Oswald. (Since this is an idiot’s guide, I’ll assume you did not pay attention in American History. Oswald assassinated JFK.)

Replying.. What Replying?

I’m the largest offender in this area, but I have told everyone I know that I am a terrible Facebooker. Only because I don’t really like it anymore. I keep my profile as to stay in touch with friends.

That being said, people will ask me questions and I will have missed it for a few weeks, or months, and people get MAD. Don’t follow my actions in this instance. Apparently everyone still loves FB except for me.

Unmindful Posting

When you are on Facebook, you are friends with your friends, your work, your family, and your partner’s family. I’m not speaking for everyone here, but we don’t necessarily want to know when you got super wasted or how big your boobs are. Thanks though!

Event Invites

Remember when we didn’t know each other in middle school? Me too! Come check out my super sweet band this Thursday. We’re playing in our parent’s room.

NO.

Liking Your Junk

Listen, we get it. You are posting this because you think you’re funny. You don’t have to reassure us.

Posting The Wrong Thing

It’s a black top blur, but I’m pretty sure it ruled. Yeah, last friday night!!!

Again, something I’ve seen a lot. I don’t really understand this. You have Google, the universal search engine that can tell you ANYTHING. If you are going to post a popular radio song, like Katy Perry’s “Last Friday Night”, check the lyrics. Pop songs tend to not make sense, but in this case, a “black top blur” is, in no way, a plausible lyric… It’s a blacked out blur.

Mean Comments

It’s one thing to have a heated discussion on Facebook. It’s another to hate on everyone’s posts. I get it. You’re close-minded, as most idiots are, and don’t like to see things different than you view them. However, there’s one thing you need to grasp throughout this whole blog: Everything you do on the internet stays on the internet FOREVER. Meaning, everyone knows you’re an asshole now. Oops!

These are the top annoyances I have with Facebook. Tell me about your annoyances on Twitter or in the comments!

Until the next time I remember to blog,

ohheytay

The Prodigal Blogger Returns

Blogosphere! I have returned. I realize that my absence was a fairly long one and I do apologize. You see, I’ve been really busy!

Okay.. So maybe I was not 100% honest in that statement. It’s no excuse, but you see life became instantaneously crazy. Tons of photo shoots and projects and you’re working and your brother is having a baby and you start to love run-on sentences. Also, it’s not my fault Modern Warfare 3 is amazing.

Instead of going into explicit detail about why I haven’t blogged, I thought I’d make up ten reasons as to what I was doing instead.

1. I was busy watching March of the Penguins on repeat.

Note: This actual did happen once.

2. I was busy decorating for Christmas!!

Tree is a little small this year.

3. I was busy reading other people’s blogs!

hahhaa just kidding. i don't read.

4. I was busy watching my crazy neighbor add new lights to their house every day.

tinselitis is bad this year

5. I was busy matching my socks.

Note: They are matching. They're both $1 from Target. It counts.

5. I was busy realizing I was a weird looking baby.

This is my first stocking. awww alien baby's first christmas!

6. I was busy kissing the ice.

I'm not lying when I say someone farted at this very moment.

7. I was busy taking sweet berry shots, okay?!!

sweet berry shot, bro

8. I was busy eating sushi.

I'm not sure how this constitutes as an excuse either, but it was delicious.

9. I was busy taking care of needy dog 1 & 2.

cute little noodles

10. I was busy missing my weird friends.

Family portrait 2010

 

ohheytay

How I Managed To Ruin Someone’s Life (A True Story)

If you know me, the title of this blog might frighten you. Did Taylor really seem like the type? Before you jump to yes, Mom, rest assured that I didn’t realize I had ruined someone’s life until today. I was not hiding in secrecy. There was no way for you to see this coming. You are a wonderful mother, but your daughter did successfully (and unintentionally) impact someone. Sorry bout that.

 

2003 (I’m pretty sure it was 2003)

Eighth grade was the year I changed the most. I went to public school for the first time and broke out of my shy shell. Fourteen years of miming my way through conversations were over. I was a new talkative woman! As I say this, I do want you to realize that I went from being silent to being able to hold a normal conversation without a panic attack. It was BIG!) Within the eighth grade hall, there were teams. Dependent on what team you were on showed you where your classrooms were located. I was on the Blue Pelican Team!. The exclamation point was part of the team name. I don’t know why they had to make them blue, there was not a Green Pelican Team!. Nor do blue pelicans actually exist… right? Anyways, The Blue Pelicans! were at the end of the hall. You see, my script went slanted because that was the coolest team. All of the popular kids in eighth grade somehow were always on the Blue Pelican Team!. And so was I!.

Also on the Blue Pelican Team! was.. Well, let’s call her Annie. Little Annie was part Indian and American, which really did her justice. She looked like that girl from Slumdog Millionaire. Anyways, Little Annie was also painfully shy. She had just moved from somewhere foreign and had zero friends. I was not threatening, was nice, and didn’t say much so we stuck together. I started to make other friends, which made Little Annie mad. At one point I had three separate groups of friends. Apprehensive Annie and a kid that looked like Donnie Darko, my punk-goth friends (who I unfortunately started dressing like) and my friends from another team. They were The Green Seahorses! or something like that. I tried to bring them all together, but it was impossible. Everyone became socially inept as you would expect awkward middle schoolers to.

Angry Annie stopped talking to me. She was furious that I became really good friends with a goth girl, but goth girl was SO NICE (and she liked to watch really bad movies with me!). I tried to make up with Appalling Annie, but she was so far gone with unexplainable anger. Literally. I don’t know how to explain how mad she was.

Then one day it happened. One of the most popular boys, Justin, said to Abominable Annie, “You know, now that I think about it, you’re actually pretty.” I remember these words because I expected her to lash out at him, as she did me. Instead, hearts replaced her eyeballs and she glued herself to his side. Algae Annie (I’m running out) had found an in and wasn’t ever letting go.

I remember one day Atrocious Annie came into Social Studies, stopped in front of my desk and stared at me. She then looked up to Justin and asked, “Would you still like me if I was fat?” To which Justin replied, “Nope.” I wasn’t mortified. I was hurt. I was also surprised that she liked someone so much who only liked her because she was thin. Welcome to the real world, Taylor.

In middle school, that was the only time I can think of when someone made me feel less than who I was. Antagonizer Annie would go out of her way to call me fat or “unpopular skank.” No one else made fun of me because I had nice hair and was about 5’7. That means I was taller than most of my teachers. Side note: my science teacher used to spell my name Taelour. She will probably be the worst speller I will ever encounter. I hope.

In November of what I think was 2004, I was diagnosed with arthritis. I was in and out of school and on a handful of medications. When I was in class, I was so tired that it was all I could do not to fall asleep right there. I remember my English teacher trying to tell me it would be okay and instead, she started balling about my situation. It made her so sad to see me like this. I remember consoling her that I would be okay. That only seemed to make it worse.

After Christmas, my mom decided to pull me out of school and have a tutor from Wake County come to my house and teach me nothing. That’s not true. She taught me never to be a chain smoker because your voice will drop and the smell will never come out. Anyways, on my last day of real school, Awful Annie decided to attack me one more time in class. My teacher yelled at her and told her that I had just been diagnosed with a crippling disease (thanks). I turned to Atrocious Annie and said in a whisper, “You did this to me” and I walked out, never to be seen again.

 

November 3, 2011

I am sick. I stayed home from class today because I was in between wanting to throw up and pass out. However, my phone is broken and because the state of my phone triumphs my health, I took it to the Sprint store. I was explaining to the Sprint man how my phone was broken when I heard the sound of a phone hit the floor. We all looked over and saw the white iPhone 4s on the ground with a brand new broken screen. It’s owner was: Alarmed Annie.

She was looking at me as if I somehow had been raised from the dead. I pretended that I didn’t recognize her and gave her a sympathetic look about her iPhone (of course she’d have my dream phone…) She followed me out of the store, unnecessarily introduced herself, and went into a shpiel about how awful she felt. I realized that this was my triumphant moment. My bully was apologizing! Nerds win! But then she asked about the arthritis she caused. Aw..

Annie had been eaten up with guilt and carrying this weight that she had caused someone to become a cripple. She had been praying for me relentlessly for years and, once a year, donates to the Arthritis Foundation. I’m not joking.

I informed her that it is, in fact, impossible to bully someone into having arthritis and that all she did cause me was grief during a hard time. I forgave her and thanked her for the donations because that benefit us cripples more than you know. I gave her an update on my condition and told her what I was doing in my life. She asked if we could be friends and I politely declined. You are, after all, as smart as what you Google.

 

Not going to proofread this post,

Taylor

Breaking Bad News With Baby Animals.

Here’s a secret obsession of mine..

From the authors of Grandma’s Dead and Why is Daddy In A Dress?, Amanda McCall & Ben Schwartz, I present you with Maybe Your Leg Will Grow Back! These books that started out as a joke have become a small love of mine. And by small, I mean gigantic. The books are full of postcards that have cute baby animals and one line of bad news. I’ve selected a few of my favourites. You can buy these books in bookstores, Urban Outfitters, and of course, Amazon.com.

Tall, Dark And Emotionally Unavailable.

Everyone has a type. Unfortunately, you can’t always find your type because your type is oblivious or momentarily frightened when you wonder out loud, “Have boys ever tried to put slap bracelets on their wieners?” My type really needs to figure out that I am way too lazy to act on what I wonder.

I am twenty-two and ready to find a man. I don’t mean to make a blatant statement about being ready to find love and then sound non-committal in the next sentence, but the idea of finding the guy I’m spending the rest of my life with kind of scares me. So maybe I’m just going to find my type of guy and then see where that goes. I’m going to be honest.. If I don’t have a boyfriend and the world ends in 2012, I will be so pissed. I don’t care what you tell me. I’ll find a way to still be bitter that you did not have the balls to ask me out.

It seems as though most of the guys I attract are assholes. Ones that show interest and make you fight for attention, then blow you off. I don’t really understand the fun in that. I am a girl who loves beer, video games, music, hot wings, and hockey. It’s like dating your best friend, but less gay.

So, if you’re shy, and hopefully you’re not, here’s a list of traits I like in a guy mixed with some things you should be aware about me. I don’t mean for most of it to be serious except for that I mean most of it to be serious.

  1. Have lifetime and short-term goals. If you don’t have a plan for your life, go ahead and stop reading now. I don’t care what you do, but you have to have that vigor.
  2. Don’t be a heavy mouth breather. Dear Lord, there’s a reason Darth Vader never remarried.
  3. Embrace being weird. I am in school to be a fashion photographer and I like photographing the strange. I love it when people do a double take at my pictures because it is so outrageous. To me, a successful photograph is one that creates strong reactions, may it be good or bad.
  4. Appreciate tattoos. I love them. If you have some then.. Hi, I’m Taylor.
  5. Be funny. I tend to laugh at everything, but our love will not be forever like diamonds if I’m the only source.
  6. Please, for the love of God and our happiness, be able to SPELL freaking words. I can’t help correcting people when they spell incorrectly. It’s not my fault that it sincerely bothers me! So if we’re 90 years old and I see you scribble down “I am dieing,” no, I will not call a nurse. You deserve it.
  7. Brush up on your pop culture. When I reference Space Balls and you give me a blank face every time, I mean come ON.
  8. LIKE BEER. If I’m the only one in the relationship who likes beer, my family and I will call you girly names to your face. If they make fun of you for not eating meat, I’ll back you up then. But beer, you’re SOL.
  9. Don’t kiss your dog on the lips. I spoil my dogs and tell them the approximate time I’ll be back because I feel so guilty for leaving them. However, frenching your mutt is grounds for dismissal.
  10. White teeth. It is important to me and I’m not good at being subtle. So maybe #11 should be about not being easily offended when I buy you white strips. Love you!
  11. Be Jake Gyllenhaal.
  12. Don’t be Jake Gyllenhaal. I once met Orlando Bloom and I told him I liked his pirate movies. I am almost phobic of what I’d tell Jake.
  13. I do not have room in my heart for rank people. I got no belly for the smelly.
  14. Facial hair is an A+. Mustaches are fine as a joke. P.S. Weddings are not a joke.
  15. Know, or be willing to learn, something about cars. Apparently, this makes or breaks my dad’s approval. Only exception: If you professionally play hockey or are of direct decent of Bobby Orr. You’re in the clear then.
  16. Appreciate the outdoors without going outdoors. I love not camping.
  17. Be accepting of my family’s spontaneous dance parties on vacations and willing to join in. This also includes belting terrible songs in the car. It’s how we bond.
  18. Play video games. You would think a girl asking a guy to play a video game every now and then is an easy task. It’s not. Apparently not all guys appreciate first person shooters like I do. I’m going to a midnight release party for Modern Warfare 3. I’m a gamer. I need to be with my kind.
  19. Be ready to never eat lobster again. I am actually phobic and have passed out in the presence of one before. You can laugh all you want, but try to prank me, we’re through.
  20. Whenever something goes wrong, don’t blame it on Canada. I’m Canadian and fully able to say that Nickelback was a lapse in judgement!
If you think you, or someone you know, is this perfect model of a man, let me know. If you think you might be close to it, maybe we can work out a deal. But I won’t budge on Nickelback. They really are a terrible.

For Recovering Tomboys: How To Be More Fashionable.

Are you a tomboy?

Wikipedia describes a tomboy as, “A girl who exhibits characteristics or behaviors considered typical of the gender role of a boy, including the wearing of typically masculine-oriented clothes and engaging in games and activities that are often physical in nature, and which are considered in many cultures to be the domain of boys.”

Sound familiar? Or are you getting flashbacks of your childhood?

Good. Let’s get started.

First, I want to say that I was very much a tomboy. I appreciated pink, but also mud, bugs, and being outside 24/7. This time in my life was cut short at thirteen when I developed rheumatoid arthritis and had to stay inside all of the time. I remember receiving a basket of makeup and wondering how I was supposed to know what to do with it. I made the mistake of putting roller ball perfume on my lips. So, makeup and I had a rough start.

MAKEUP

If you’re interested in becoming more skilled in makeup, know that it does not take an artist to accomplish this. It’s all based on knowledge and repetition. However, the one thing I’ve recognized in recovering tomboys is that they sincerely want to understand makeup, but are too overwhelmed to actually try. Does the thought of walking into Sephora scare you? Read on, my friend… If I really wanted to know more about football, my brother would gladly help me (makeup artists are nice and will treat you the same). He would explain all rules of the game and then test my knowledge. It would seem confusing and too much at first, but eventually I’d come to understand it and impress all future boyfriends. (side note to my future boyfriends: I really don’t like football. I play videogames. I don’t know what else you want from me.) It’ll take time, but you will get it and this will become an easy and quick way to glam up your gym shorts.

Pick a part of your face you want to work on. It may be you want to even out your skin tone or perfect your eye liner technique.. or learn what eye liner is for. My best advice is to go to a local department store or MAC, if you have one. MAC cosmetics and I have had a longtime love affair so just tell them I sent you. Tell the nice lady that you are new to makeup and want to learn the basics. They will indulge you because they want you to buy their products. Take advantage of this. Do not be self-deprivating while you’re under their brush. They are fully aware that you are a newbie. Just soak in the information and don’t say that you’ll never be able to do this. Also: you don’t have to buy their products. Buy what you think you can handle. Baby steps!

My second best advice is to go to Youtube and search for tutorial videos. Most makeup artists do this to show you “fun looks”, but I have use this for years on how to achieve perfect eyeshadow combo for my eyes. Just search “how to put on foundation” or something like that. badda boom, you’re on your way!

My third best advice: stay away from glitter. Unless you’re trying to look as classy as Ke$ha, do not go there. Just.. don’t.

HAIR

I’m afraid to say hair is the most important. You can have an amazing outfit and perfect makeup, but your hair can ruin everything. I am a victim of this quite often. The next time you get your hair cut, get it styled. I would suggest you keep your hair long because that is way easier to style than short hair. Simple hair solution is to invest in a straightener. They can smooth out your hair into a sleek look and it usually takes less than ten minutes. Got straight hair? Use a large round brush and blow dry your ends. I don’t have a lot of suggestions because I’m not great with hair. I have four styles that I can achieve and I rotate according to how much time I have. But I will say: youtube tutorials for this will save your life. I learned how to curl my hair that way.

SHOES

Don’t roll your eyes at me! Look at your shoes and tell me that you’d cry if you lost them. I can tell you that about six pairs of shoes I own. Just to be clear, my brother would cry if he lost a couple pairs of his shoes. It’s not girly, it’s quality. In a realistic sense, shoes are extremely important. You want them to look cool, but you also want them to stay nice for a long time.

What to invest in:

If you refuse to wear heels, I hear you, but you have to have a ballet flat. These shoes are simple and are a perfect way to not take away from a nice outfit. And HELLO, they’re comfy.

If you are a recovering tomboy, you most definitely love sneaks. Get comfy sneakers that also look cool. Black suede Pumas, Toms or Converses. Converses do not necessarily define cool, but they are an acceptable every day shoe. Separate your nice sneakers from the ones you play basketball or work out in.

BOOOOOTS. Boots are the best!! A good pair of boots in the fall/winter time with good hair = perfect day. It’ll make you feel wonderful. Trust me. Boots are more expensive than anyone wants them to be, but a quality leather boot will last you for years. Choose wisely, my friend. And don’t wear them with gym shorts.

CLOTHES

Okay, this is where I am still a recovering tomboy. I have cute outfits, but I don’t usually wear them. I always choose comfy over cute. Right now, I am wearing a videogame shirt with camo thermal and jeans. I love being comfy.

Rule 1: Sweatshirts are all the tomboy rage, but they make you look frumpy and are not flattering at all. I own a lot of sweatshirts, but I try not to wear them out.

Rule 2: Socks and soccer sandals. Don’t get me started.

Rule 3: Gym shorts are called gym shorts for a reason. They are not called library shorts or shopping shorts. Ya heard?

If you don’t know how to put a cute outfit together then I have some great news for you: you don’t have to. You can go to stores or websites and they’ve done it for you! They do this so that you’ll see how cute everything is and want to buy everything. My suggestion, if you’re living on a student budget or something like it, is to go to websites like Jcrew.com and see what you like. Then go search for cheaper alternatives. This seems like a lot of work, but once people compliment you on how you look, you’ll seethe with joy. In a good way.

If you have any questions, Google it. Or my tweeter is ohheytay. But I’ll probably just tell you to Google it.

And now for something unrelated: here’s some pumpkins I carved.

Goodnight!

Thanks To Paranormal Activity 3, That Time I Wrote A Blog While Terrified.

** My internet was down last night so I could not post this until tonight. Most of what I put in parentheses should help clarify. Or not.

I’m petrified. Why? I saw Paranormal Activity 3 tonight (last night), walked from my car in the pitch black of nightness and then into a pitch black house. If that wasn’t enough to freak the hell out of me, while I was taking my shoes off the lights inside my car came on. Not my headlights, but just the inside. Using my fob, that is impossible. In fact the only way to turn my inside lights on is to turn a little stick dial or push buttons. I don’t know how it happened. I don’t want to know. But I do know I’m never sleeping again or going outside (kind of a lie since I went to the state fair today. And out to lunch. And to a movie. And to the mall.) So, I’m writing a blog in hopes of taking my mind off of terror. It’s 1am and my dog keeps scaring me by making tiny noises so this is proving to be difficult.

I wish I could watch an episode of Arrested Development. For some reason I am dead set that that will solve my issues. However, the internet is down (probably due to Toby – the demon is PA3. *sob*) and I’m never going to be happy again. I would go to the internet box, technically speaking, and fix it but I am too frightened to go downstairs. In fact, I am too frightened to go to the bathroom and wash my face and it is the next room over.

If the sentence, “Wow, this movie really scared you.” You’re right. It really scared me. PA3 was terrifying for everyone in the audience. We all bonded because we all had envisioned the worst thing imaginable together. There was a black guy sitting behind me who commented the whole time with, “AHHH HELLLL NAHH” or, my fave, “What are you doing tomorra? Why ain’t you speaking?!”

Now that I really think about it, Para Act 3 was not the scariest movie out of all of them. I think Para Act 2 was the worst. Although this movie had its moments. Due to the fact I’m never sleeping again (Fact: I did sleep for two hours that night. Two hours of nightmares. Jamie Lee Curtis kept trying to break into my house to murder my brother’s dog. It was suspenseful.). Movies where I can’t see the object of scariness are the worst for me. You can’t see what you’re scared of; therefore, the mystery  and anticipation are much higher. But I will say the worst of all are alien movies. I’d rather gouge my eyes out with spoons. Multiple spoons. I’m not doing a good job distracting myself, am I?

I found all of my winter clothes today. I forgot about most of my shirts. Isn’t that the best feeling? It’s like someone went shopping for you but picked out everything you like and you didn’t have to go or try stuff on. There’s nothing I hate more than trying on clothes. Well, maybe Paranormal Activity 3. No. Stop. I’m wearing a penguin onesie. It’s so cold in my room that I had a fleece onsie on and am under a down comforter. It’s awesome.

I’m going to try to go to sleep. My dog is making it look so appealing. Besides, I put my tubs of winter clothes in front of my door, so what’s the worst thing that can happen? Toby coming to marry me? Got it…

See you in Heaven if I get murdered,

Taylor

p.s. sorry for ruining the plot of the trilogy. SPOILER ALERT! Oh well. I’m dead now anyways so you can’t really be mad.