My Life: In One Little Paragraph


I was born the day before the Fourth of July in the summer of 1989. The fatter than hell baby with the warped cone head? Yeah that was me. My parents were so proud and I was given the nickname "Peanut" right then and there. Lil Broski arrived a swift sixteen months later. Apparently nursing isn't a solid form of birth control... Mom learned the hard way and I learned that I was forever going to have a sidekick to get mad at for coloring outside the lines. Four dogs, two gerbils, three cats, two ferrets, and a couple of ducks joined the family along the way. Bike rides, camping trips, movie marathons, cruises, Disney World trips and game nights happened more times than I can count. Always loved, always provided for but never spoiled because we were taught what hard work meant from the start. I attempted to play just about every sport in the book...and failed at every single one. I was forever a late bloomer so I blame it on my teeny tiny build. But that petite frame led me to being a flyer on the cheer squad and I loved it as much as my favorite Beanie Baby, Patty the Platypus. I was a goody two shoes in High School to the point that I cried when I got my first B. Graduated high school with 36 college credits and went away from home for the first time as a Sophomore at Oneonta State. I joined a sorority, made a lot of friends, and drank even more Keystone Lights. Somehow, I had a degree under my belt in 2.5 years which led me to an internship here, the greatest city in the world - New York, NY. I'm not sure where my path is going to lead me but I'm having the time of my life figuring out my next move.

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I'm off to go do a little bit of Cinco de Mayo-ing this weekend. If you need me I'll have my head buried in a bag of chips scarfing down guac like it ain't no thang. Oh, and you better believe my margs will be frozen because the sun is supposed to be out in all its glory the next couple days. 

I'll meet you back here, same time same place, Monday morning for a full recap. Just prepare yourself to be meeting Erin's hangover instead of Erin. 

Oh and because there's no way you can exist on a Friday without backing your azz up with Whitney, I will be doing just that all day (in my yoga pants mind you) to my newest favorite song. "Gone, Gone, Gone" by Philip Phillips. I'm telling you this man can do no wrong. It's about time I buy his album already because lord knows the random New Yorkers don't enjoy me singing out loud to his songs while walking down the street.

I hope you have yourselves a fabulous weekend ladies, don't drown yourself in the bucket of Coronas!



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