Never Gets Old

There are some things I will just never get tired of:


I have seen every episode of the ten seasons of Friends so many times that I can quote every line, to the incredible annoyance of anyone watching with me. In fact, I watch the show so often that my roommate, who did not even know the names of the six main characters when we started living together, now sits beside me mouthing the words along with me. We even sing along to the theme song and clap four times on the da-da da-da. Don’t pretend you don’t do that too.


The vibration in my pocket that means I have a new text message. Vain? Maybe. But it’s the truth. It’s that simple signal, saying, “Someone is thinking of you!” Having been in a long distance relationship for about three of the five years my boyfriend and I have been together, that vibration is also a connection–most days, the only connection we get as we rush from class to work then club meetings. To my delight, I’ve felt the vibration through the wood of my desk three times as I’ve written this paragraph.

Oh, Netflix. My main source of distraction. The voice in my head that says, “You can write this blog post while you watch an episode of How I Met Your Mother.” I get ready in the morning with one eye on the mirror as I put on my make-up and one eye on my computer screen where Netflix is inevitably present. But in my defense, who doesn’t love Netflix?


Nana and Papa My phone rings–I’m still sleeping, I’m sitting in class, I’m eating–the most inopportune moments. It’s Nana and Papa calling from Florida, where they spend four months each winter away from their “grandbabies.”

“Hi, Breanna. It’s Nana,” she says, as though I may have forgotten her voice in her absence or my phone has forgotten her number. “And your Papa.” They are always driving somewhere–ceramics class, dinner with friends, the beach, the grocery store, art class, some other place with friends–talking over each other on the car phone. Nana reminds me that it is seventy degrees warmer where they are. We talk until they reach their destination, then she says, “Okay, honey, I’m gonna let you go. We are at Sarah’s house for a dinner party.” I smile as I hang up the phone. I miss them when they are gone.


I actually believe I could exist on pepperoni pizza alone. I would not hesitate to eat it for every meal every single day. It is my absolute favorite food, which is saying something, since I could count on both hands the number of foods I like. I’m a picky eater, but pizza defies the odds and comes in at #1. Pisanello’s, Hungry Howie’s, Marco’s, NYPD, South U, now I’m getting hungry.



I love looking through photo albums. Luckily, my mom used to be a super scrapbooker, so there are plenty of pictures of my brother and I when we were little. There’s first days of school, fun days at the lake, a plethora of Halloween costumes, the ever-embarassing bathtime shots, and a whole host of other wonderful childhood memories captured within the pages of old scrapbooks.


What do you never get tired of?

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