Whiskey Tales

The Saddest Break Up Tale.

We were together for years. And over the last few months, my heart has been breaking piece by piece.

The others were never good enough. They left me with a bad taste, and I knew my nights with them would never last. They were most certainly one night stands, and for a while, I felt like that was all I’d ever have.

But then, I saw him and experienced all of his glory.. He was one of very few words. He never spoke back, got sassy, or told me I was wrong. Actually, being with him made me feel so right. He lifted me up when I was down and made me fly when I was already high. And for the first time in my life, I thought I had met my match.

It wasn’t until early this year, when I started changing my life around that things got rough with us. I began trying to be healthier, and in turn spent less time with him. I think the distance made him angry – because every time we actually got together, it was short lived and I always went to bed alone with a sick feeling in my stomach.

It wasn’t until last month, when I thought I’d give it one more shot, that I truly knew it was over. I thought it would be sweet to spend the Halloween weeks together in Salem Massachusetts, where celebrating before the actual holiday wouldn’t be so out of the ordinary.

We had dinner, which was lovely, and everything went fine for a few hours. We met again at a tavern and I thought the chill running through me was just from the cold. But alas, it was not. I got home and felt that same sick, sad feeling in my stomach. I could hear him yelling at me as I wept and vomited in the bathroom.

YOU’RE NOT THE SAME! YOU CAN’T HANDLE ME ANYMORE, CAN YOU?

And just like that, I knew. No, sir. I cannot handle you anymore. My healthy lifestyle has torn me from your sweet aroma. My clean body and mind makes it difficult to spend any reasonable amount of time with you. It hurts to be without you, but it hurts more when I’m with you.

We had many great, wonderful years together. I’ll never forget how happy he made me feel. I’ve started moving on, slowly but surely, and I know that even though we aren’t together, I’m in a great place in my life. Time will only tell if we ever meet again. Maybe a short embrace here and there, but that’s all we’ll ever have between us.

Jameson, I will always love you. Thank you for the time we did have. Until we meet again.

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Weekend Update & Blogging Sabbatical

Happy Monday! This is going to be a quick post today & possibly my only one of the week. I have a ton of work to get done since I’m getting surgery tomorrow-but more on that later. I gotta update you on Date #3!

My list of rules were totally reasonable from Friday. Did I adhere to every single one of them?

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Come on, guys. Don’t you know me by now?

Friday was my third date with The Drummer. Well, not exactly a date, but our third time hanging out. I stayed at the college he works at and drank/hung out with all his co-workers. It was a little nerve wracking at first because I didn’t know what to expect or how many people were coming. I asked, but he was pretty vague about it.

When I arrived, we had a little time to catch up and talk about our weeks. Then, two of his friends show up. Okay, not too overwhelming. I’m pretty sociable and sometimes my discomfort comes off as awkward humor, which everyone is amused by. So pretty much, it looks like I’m like I’m trying to be funny. YES.

After about 20 minutes of the friendly meet and greet EVERYONE else shows up. Like, another 12-15ish people. THAT was the overwhelming part. Everyone knew each other and they were all excited to get drunk since the dorms were empty. Luckily, a lot of them were super nice. One guy turned to me and told me to tell him a great story, so I shot back with a “I went to dinner with Bobby Orr once.” That was a great ice breaker.

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Side note: I was like 9, so it wasn’t a date or anything. I won a contest. But still, a pretty neat story.

Luckily, I hit it off with everyone. I didn’t get too drunk because I didn’t want to make a fool of myself so I was the perfect amount of myself AND drunk for people to get a good idea of who I was as a person. Let’s be real though-I mostly hung out with the guys and smoked cigars outside while drinking my Manhattans. The guys made sure to text The Drummer later on to tell him they loved me.

I definitely followed a good chunk of my rules. At one point, and a few Manhattans later, I did do ONE penis joke and I just stopped halfway and thought to myself “Dammit, Lara. No penis jokes. NONE.” So I kind of saved myself. But I definitely didn’t drink whiskey from the bottle and I only shook my bum for ONE song and no one saw.

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However, there was one rule I broke that I wasn’t too upset over. Since I had such a long drive home, I ended up sleeping over and…

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I’m sorry guys. That’s all I can give you. Since I actually like this guy, I figured I should be polite and not write about personal stuff with him. As much as I LOVE documenting my sexcapades, this one isn’t a onenight-gonna-blog-about-it-stand. But on a scale of one to ten it was a——

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I’m really happy in this moment. I mean, a little fearful of this whole situation. I haven’t really developed feelings for anyone since my ex and seeing the way The Drummer looks at me brings me to this weird place where I want to let him in, but I have these subconscious walls up that, at the moment, I don’t have control over. And I don’t want to control them right now either. They’re defense mechanisms and they keep me grounded. But I digress-that’s a sappy post for another day.

Anyways, I have surgery tomorrow. I’m getting gum grafts on a few teeth. It’s basically when they cut the skin from the roof of your mouth and put it where your gums should be. I had it done back in July and I ain’t even gonna lie to you-it fucking hurts. A LOT. I don’t wish that upon anyone.

And you know what really pisses me off? The fact that your dentist and periodontist will tell you it feels like “a pizza burn.”

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LIARS. JUST PLAIN OLD LIARS.

For that reason, they put you on two levels of pain medication. Because it fucking hurts. I’ll be on a strict diet of Chobani and double doses of Vicodin (that’s how to really get those pain killers working) for 4 days, so I may not be in my right mind to post anything for a bit. Who knows though-maybe I’ll get all pain med high and start rambling on Thanksgiving about how grateful I am to be alive and then start crying on my laptop. It’s me, so anything is possible.

I’m staying at The Drummer’s after surgery. He offered to take care of me for the night, which was super sweet. He’s leaving to stay with his family for the holiday week, so I wouldn’t get to see him until next week if I couldn’t tomorrow. If the guy can handle me with a swollen mouth and yoga pants, then he can handle me through anything haha.

Even if I’m not posting, I’ll still be reading yours! I need something to do while I’m in bed in massive amounts of pain. Make ’em good!

Have a fabulous Monday everyone! xx

Eat That Up, It’s Good For You

I have a slight obsession with Two Door Cinema Club. They came to Boston in October and by the time I tried to get tickets, they were sold out for ALL THREE DAYS. Lame. I’ll see you soon, boys.

Date #3 with The Drummer tonight. I guess it really isn’t a date, per say, but I’m going up to the school he works at to hang with him and his co-workers. All of the students go home for Thanksgiving break today, so the staff gets together and celebrates the night they leave. Shit, I would too if I couldn’t get drunk on campus all semester long.

Kind of nervous to meet all his co-workers and friends. I know I’ll be fine because I’m really sociable, but it’s the whole drinking thing that gets me. Sometimes when I drink, I can be a little too “Lara” and I’m not ready to show his inner circle that, especially with first impressions. But dammit, he bought me fancy whiskey so I have to create some guidelines for my behavior.

So tonight, Lara:

No drinking whiskey straight from the bottle.

No rapping ANYTHING from The Slim Shady LP, unless requested without mentioning.

No penis jokes, unless otherwise specified.

If there’s music, don’t shake your bum. Just don’t. Please. This isn’t a gay club.

I think if I adhere to this simple rules, I’ll be okay. I don’t want to drink that much anyways because I’m really counting on driving home. Trying to keep up with this “dating and waiting” ordeal. I have faith. I think.

Have a fabulous weekend everyone!

Be safe.

Be free.

Be you.

Be wonderful.

xo

Dates & Gays: Weekend Recap

Ayyyy WordPress. Missed my little corner of space. Lots to update on, but first, I need my caffeine to kick in. I got NO sleep this weekend. Friday I didn’t get home until about 3 in the morning and Saturday I got in at 4ish. I’m getting too old for this. I remember staying up all night during college and going to class the next morning without even a yawn. Not anymore.

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Saturday Recap: Boston’s Gay Nightlife

Oh my God. Saturday was SO much fun. We hit up downtown Boston for Epic Saturdays at the House of Blues. Out of all of the gay clubs in Boston, that has GOT to be my favorite. The bartenders are incredible, the music is off the heeeeazy, and the club goers are super positive, awesome people. I don’t think I’ve met one person I didn’t like there.

The best part has to be the go go dancers.

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These men are beefy, pretty much naked, and their dance moves will make you rethink your religion. There was one dancer that kept eyeing me all night so I whipped out a dollar and danced over to him. He straddled me with glowing muscular legs and let me put the dollar in his eheem barely there “underwear.” After I gave him the dollar, he looked at me, shook his head and said “No, no. You come here.” So he pulled me closer to him and put my face right where the sun don’t shine. He threw a towel over my face and gave me the dance of my life. I laughed for about 10 minutes after that. Best experience of the night. To the go-go dancers of Boston: You rock my world.

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We spent a good hour in the city after the club closed just screwin’ around and talking to people. On the walk back to the car, we saw a group of people jumping some guy. Since I had quite a few drinks in me, I started to walk towards them until my friends intervened, “Lara! This is NOT your problem. Please. Please don’t do anything.” My friends are quite familiar with how I sometimes fight dudes. Once I got close enough to the group, I heard someone say, “He punched a girl in the face!” so once I heard that, I backed away. I wasn’t getting physically involved in THAT. Instead, I let a cop know about the fight once we got further enough away from the crowd of people. I did my duty, but I wasn’t going to risk my life to protect someone who hits girls. Once we got home, I downed a bunch of whiskey and passed out. NOT a good idea guys. I was hurrrrrting yesterday morning.

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Friday Recap: Date #2 with The Drummer

I spent my Friday night with the lovely Drummer. We went to an Irish Pub I chose closer to where he lived. It was a comfortable place and not too crowded in the beginning of the night, so we had tons of time for good conversation. The food was really good and the drinks were fabulous (though it’s hard to mess up a Jameson and ginger ale, it’s still possible). I honestly had such a great time you guys. It was a little weird-driving there I honestly thought this second round was going to be a disaster and I’d realize that I actually don’t like him and we’re not as similar as I thought, but it was the complete opposite. We were way more comfortable with each other since it was the second date and we talked throughout the week. He’s just so..positive. Like, not even in a cliché way. He told me from the get go that he never gets mad and I honestly think he’s serious.

We talked about everything you’re NOT supposed to talk about on a second date-politics, religion, etc. We just kind of laughed it off because for an inappropriate conversation, it was so intellectually stimulating. I don’t believe in those types of dating rules because if someone has opposing views that are not accepted by one or both parties, then might as well get it out of the closet as soon as possible. The Drummer and I have different opinions on those touchy topics, but neither of us feel like shoving it down each other’s throats. He completely accepts my views and thinks they’re interesting and worthy of my opinion and I thought the same as him. Religion isn’t a deal breaker with me as long as you don’t try to change MY mind. I’m a very spiritual person and that’s something very close to my heart. As long as that’s understood, I’m fine with whatever you believe.

Throughout the course of the night, more people started piling in and a DJ *RECORD SCRATCH* a-girl-wearing-no-pants-and-playing-music-from-her-computer started playing music and we people watched as loads of drunk people started dancing. It was odd to see an Irish Pub turn into a sort of dance party in mere minutes. It wasn’t very cool, but entertaining at least. I loved watching the girl to my right, drunk off of Mike’s Hard Lemonades, drop her beer bottle mid hip swing and pretend like it didn’t happen. Oh please girl. Go on with your bad hard lemonade self.

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Once the lights turned on and we realized the bar was closing, we decided we drank a little too much and should walk it off. We spent the next hour walking around the neighborhood and talking. It wasn’t too cold out, so the fresh air was actually nice. As we were walking down one of the streets, he stopped me and we kissed. A lot. I think we stayed in that spot for the rest of the time we spent outside. It was so nice to be with someone who just wanted to kiss you and not steal your underwear or lose a tooth or have your brother call my mom a diiiiirty girl. Not to say it wasn’t steamy as all hell. TRUST ME. From a girl who has the mind of a man, you have NO idea how hard it is to be good while “dating.” But as hard as it was (no pun intended), I stuck to my plan and made an easy breezy exit so we didn’t start getting any ideas. I like this whole dating and waiting thing. It’s a challenge, but it’s fun. And it keeps things exciting. Who wants to have all of their mysteries out in a second? That’s boring.

So Date #2 was a success. I really do like him and spending time with him. I wish school didn’t take up such a big part of my life because I’d opt to see him more, but until December 22, I’m married to my homework. But that’s okay. We talk a lot. And he’s interesting. And sweet. And genuine. And actually wants to get to know me. This is definitely all new for me and a little scary since I had a really rough break up earlier this year, but I think this is exactly what I need. Whether or not it lasts, at least I know little spurts of fireworks can actually happen. We’ll just have to see.

Today I just pray that I don’t fall asleep before work is over. I need another coffee.

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The Time I Fought a Dude.

I figured since I’ve done a lot of stories about dating and break ups, I’d switch it up to something more bad ass. I mean, my name is Lara for God’s sake, after the incredible tomb raider, Ms. Croft.

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Nah, nah. I’m kidding. I was named after some ho from Dr. Zhivago.

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I was 19. Sweet, naïve, and college party ANIMAL. I moved off campus my sophomore year and lived with 3 other female animals. We felt so grown up. SO FREE.

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Our apartment was “the” place to be Thursday through Saturday. We would do one HUGE beer run (since we were all extremely underage) and then play beer pong, smoke pot, and party until it was time to go to class the next morning or until we couldn’t drink anymore.

It was a great year besides a few choice issues.

Issue #1: I lived with a drug dealer.

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Issue #2: I lived in a very “not so nice” part of town.

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No, really. That’s a legit picture from my neighborhood. 100%

Issue #3: Said drug dealer was not so smart and used to deal pot to sketchy people from said neighborhood.

As you can probably already guess, we ran into MANY problems. These people would come up to my apartment off the streets without being invited. They would bust into my parties and sometimes create some havoc. Some claimed they were in gangs. Personally, I called bullshit on them. A real gang member would probably have murdered them.

Nonetheless, my parties were starting to look a lot like this.

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Saint Patrick’s Day, 2008

We had a monstrous party at my house that night. Everyone was wearing green. We had decorations and TONS of beer. There were a SHIT TON of people at my place that night.

I was in the middle of a game of beer pong. Dominating. Obviously. When all of a sudden, two of the sketchballs that were there to see my drug dealer roommate started arguing.

Side note: One guy was named Boogie. That is NOT a pseudo name. That shit was real. He told me once that he was given that name by his “bros” and I asked him if it was because they thought he was the Boogie Man.

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Mr. Gang member was not to thrilled about that comparison.

As I’m playing beer pong, I hear their argument get louder. All of my 19 year old college friends looked absolutely petrified, so I knew none of them were going to step in. Need I remind you:

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I live with a bunch of girls, so I knew I was the only one who was going to stop the problem. I left my game and intervened.

I stepped in between the two guys and told them to knock it off. Surprisingly, Boogie kept his cool and backed away. The other dude was absolutely WASTED and was getting more violent. He started getting closer to Boogie, so once again, I stepped in the middle of them.

This time, the dude pushed me.

So, I did what any normal 19 year old girl would do to a 30 year old “gang” member, and I pushed him the FUCK back.

Then, he pushed me again.

Oh my God. You should have SEEN my friends’ faces. They were petrified.

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So then, this dude pushes me. AGAIN. I had enough.

I told him to leave. He didn’t budge. So, I started pushing him out of my living room.

I lived on the second floor of an apartment. The door in my living room led to the stairs that created the exit for my unit.

I opened the living room door. Dude pushes me.

THAT IS FUCKING IT. I was too drunk for this shit.

I jumped on him.

I’ve never fought a dude before, and I really didn’t know what to do, so I put him in a headlock. I started to drag him towards the open living room door when all of a sudden, he pushed me down the stairs. Forgetting I had him in a headlock, he came right down with me.

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Now, I don’t know how I did it, but I STILL had this guy in a headlock even all the way down the stairs.

My downstairs neighbors came out looking PISSED THE HELL OFF, and then after realizing I was fighting a guy twice my size, they tried to help me.

My neighbors: Lara! We’re calling the cops!

Me: I’VE GOT THIS YOU GUYS! GO BACK INTO THE HOUSE. GO! GO!

Hahahaha. Who the hell do I think I am?

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Still in a headlock, said dude and I fall to the ground on my front porch.

After about a minute of wrestling him on the ground, the cops show up. I let him go from my grasp and the cops took him and drag him away.

After the cops drove away, I drunkenly proceeded up the stairs back to the party.

I open the door and there, all 30-40 of my friends were completely frozen in time, their eyes on me.

My spot at the pong table was still open. I honestly don’t think anyone moved an inch for that [probably] ten minutes.

GAME ON!

I felt fine at the moment, but when I awoke the next morning, I was COVERED from head to toe in bruises and gashes.

Probably wasn’t the smartest thing I did.

Probably could have gotten myself killed.

But that was bad ass.

And I won that game of beer bong.

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Everyday Should Be Saturday

Everyday Should Be Saturday

I am completely beat. This weekend kicked my party girl ass and I have the bags under my eyes and the “sad Monday” look to show for it. I thought I was going to cry on my way to work today. I need a nap. NOW.

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However, it was TOTALLY worth it. Friday was alright. Nothing really to report back besides having an awkward encounter with The Pizza Man. He’s someone who deserves his own post. I’ll totally get to that this week.

Saturday, my friends and I ended up in downtown Allston at a place called WONDERBAR. My blog photo is a picture they took that night. Allston is a town over from Boston. I tend to have more fun on the outskirts of Boston than the actual city. Allston is very “hipster college-y” so it’s a good, drunk crowd. They gave everyone giant foam glow sticks at the door which was probably the best part of the night. It was pretty funny though-we went to a few bars before heading to WONDERBAR and only about a quarter of the city was in costume because Halloween was technically over. Some bars we went to, NOBODY was in costume, but every now and then you’d see a banana or a flapper and you’d feel a little better. I didn’t care though. My friends and I looked amazing. I didn’t take any pictures that night except for one. I know, I know, I’m awful.

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I wish I was an Egyptian Princess everyday.

We ended up dancing until the lights turned on. I wasn’t too impressed with the guys that night, but I had so much fun dancing with my friends and just by myself so I decided to keep it solo for the evening. The bar closed at 2, but because it was Daylight Savings, the clock jumped back to 1 AM, but the bar didn’t want to stay open. LAME.

We ended up dancing in the streets anyways. And didn’t get home until about 3 AM. What were we doing in the streets that entire time? Your guess is as good as mine.

OH EM GEE.

So I had to share this screenshot I took on my phone. I was flipping through my Stats on WordPress the other night and again, I saw my page was clicked on through Yahoo!’s search engine. Whoever read my blog typed in “She blows my freind” into Yahoo!. First of all, bud, check yah spelling. Secondly, what exactly were you trying to find with those search items? I was curious, so I went on Yahoo! and typed in the same thing.

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There’s my blog. On the first page. Wedged in between slutloads.com. Haha. I died a little from laughter. I’m going to keep that picture forever. Yeah, guys. Before you check out slutloads, make sure you check out the Time is of the Essence blog. Same premise, I swear.

Lastly, I have a date with The Drummer on Saturday night. I usually don’t do dates on the weekend, but it was his idea and I really didn’t know how to give him the old, “Um, I actually don’t do online dating on the weekends because I’ll be really pissed if it was a waste of time.”

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I haven’t admitted out loud yet, but I’m actually kind of excited. I don’t want to say it because then the opposite will come true. It’s just my luck. But I have yet to look forward to a date, which is huge since I’ve been on about a bazillion dates in the last 6 months. So maybe this will be promising? I mean, he seems normal for the most part. I haven’t gotten any creepy red flags or even had a little feeling about him. What I really like is that he hasn’t mentioned my pictures at all, even in the slightest. He’s only talked to me about my actual interests and stuff that was actually in my profile. I can’t stand cheesy guys that tell you every 5 seconds how “beautiful” you are, yadadada. Even though not every guy that calls you beautiful all the time has ill intentions, in my experience (which, is a shit ton) men who constantly compliment your looks tend to really only care about just that-your looks. I’m not saying EVERY guy is like that, so relax all you nay-sayers. It’s just refreshing to talk to someone who doesn’t care about my pictures. I’m not down with the whole “Haaay bay bayyyy sexy pix!!”

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Another plus is we’re meeting halfway. He was going to drive all the way to me, but I offered to meet him halfway 1. Because my town sucks and doesn’t have anywhere fun to eat and 2. Because I know what it’s like to go on a really crappy date and have a long drive home. It’s not fun. But hey, we shall see guys. Maybe I’ll hit the jackpot? As my mom always says: Hope for the best, but expect the worst.

Well, I suppose I’ll go back to work. I tend to get NOTHING done on Mondays because I’m usually too tired from the weekend and I fantasize about being able to have a drink at work just to “loosen the work week up.”

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City Girl in the Country Part…5…I think?

City Girl in the Country Part...5...I think?

FRIDAY!

We all know how much I love this day of the week.

Cue Batman and Robin.

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I’m only working a half day today. Once that clock hits 1 PM, I’m off to Pennsylvania to hang out with my favorite people in my favorite county. Bags are packed and in my trunk. I forgot to buy whiskey at the liquor store yesterday, but these people thrive on whiskey so I’m sure I won’t be without. They have corn whiskey down there, which is clear (da fuq?) and tastes like absolute crap. However, the drunk you get from it surpasses all the other drunkenesses in the world. It’s like crack in a bottle. Honestly. Sometimes I wonder if there really is crack in it because I can’t fall asleep after.

That picture is totally me, by the way. Who thought it was a good idea to give a girl in a leather jacket an assault rifle?

The only time I’ve ever shot guns (besides paintballs and water guns) is down in PA. The first time I shot one was with this small handgun. I had my heart SET on shooting a gun all weekend and right before we were about to drive back to Boston, my friend Matt takes out the little beauty and lets me give it a go.

He stayed outside with me while everyone else watched behind the glass sliding door in the kitchen. I didn’t even hesitate. I’m all like “Yo. I can shoot a gun. I went paintballing a few times like a boss.”

As soon as Matt gave me the gun, I aimed for the cornfields and pulled the trigger.

First thing: HOLY HELL. That shit is LOUD. I honestly thought I blew my ear drum out.

Second thing: Right after I realized I didn’t go deaf, I was on such an adrenaline high that I turned to my friends and started jumping up and down, waving my arms (the one with the gun in it included) all around screaming “OH MY GOD I JUST SHOT A GUN! OH MY GOD I’M SO BADASS!” As I’m waving this gun around like a fool, I notice all my friends turning pale as ghosts. They looked at me like they were hostage negotiators.

“Lara, put the gun down. Stop waving it around like a crazy person.”

How I thought I looked:
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How I actually looked:
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Yes, ladies and gentleman. I almost killed my friends.

Luckily for me, and well, everyone else, Matt only put one bullet in the gun. He KNEW I was going to do that. He just laughed, “I don’t know why, but when people shoot a gun for the first time, they ALWAYS wave it around after.”

I have some smart friends.

I’m beyond that now. I moved up to assault rifles. The M16 was my absolute favorite. It was pretty comfortable for a big gun. I shot a few more, but the force was INSANE. The kickback and sound alone was enough to scare the shit out of me. I can’t WAIT to shoot some more this weekend!

I’ll try to update you guys on the trip, but when I tell you it’s in the middle of nowhere, I sincerely mean that. I barely even get service. But if not, I’ll get back to ya’ll on Monday. <–Practicing my country talk.

Oh Pennsylvania. The place where I'm made fun of for not pronouncing all my "R's" and where I make fun of them because the closest mall is an hour drive. We're totally even.