Things I ponder when I watch Friends:
Rachel: You go ahead, all right, Ross? Because I don’t need your stupid ship.
YOUR STUPID SHIP.
How is this not a gif??
We could eat the wax. It’s organic.
Oh, great. Food with hair on it.
No, not the used wax.
Because that would be crazy?(Source: joydivsion, Via: youcanlearnfrom-yourmisery)
Warner Bros release further teaser for Friends Reunion in 2014
For all you people reblogging this, it’s a big fat FAKE.
Late Halloween photos.
ahh, salmon skin roll.
This is Sara.
I only knew her for a few short years, but I would never trade my time with her as a friend. She was one of the kindest, most talented woman I’d ever met. We grew up in the same small school, but neither of us had ever ventured to talk to each other until a school trip to the King of Prussia mall my sophomore year of high school. I was reading Jodi Picoult and Sara LOVED Jodi Picoult. I promised to lend her the book when I was finished and we became pretty fast friends after that.
She was a writer, a journalist. She was incredibly passionate about the Middle East and wanted to change lives, change the world. She loved Jim Carrey, Dino’s pizza, and she gave THE best hugs. You never wanted to let go. We had Spanish class together my junior year of high school and I have some of the best memories of her there. Chico Estupido. Haha.
Sara had awful epilepsy. She was constantly frustrated because her medication wasn’t working and she would often lose chunks of time in her memory as a result. I remember once she fell down some stairs at college and half her face was bruised. It was terrible.
On October 12, 2009, I received a phone call from my friend Robin, who told me that Sara had drowned in her bathtub. I’d never lost anyone even remotely close to me, so I was sure it had to be a joke. A cruel one. But it wasn’t. She’d had a seizure.
Fall Break was literally the day after I found out, so I went home immediately. I talked to her friends and found comfort in Brittany, who was one of the only one of my friends home, since she commuted to school. I had to ask my mom to let me stay for her viewing, since I would miss one day of school as a result. I remember that I wore my blue button up shirt and black pinstriped pants and that I couldn’t believe it was her in the casket. She was made up like a doll and none of it felt real.
Muncy is a really small community, so there was hardly a person there that I didn’t at least know of. My high school teachers were there, as well, ones that I was close to, so the support was really overwhelming.
Brittany and I went back to her house and made some tea and just stayed together. I was so grateful to have her there with me.
It’s been 3 years since her death. And usually when I think of her, I’m overwhelmed with guilt. I don’t usually remember the date until someone brings it up. And her death is often overshadowed in my head by Brittany’s, so I don’t think of Sara often. And she deserves to be thought about.
Which is why I’m writing this. To remind myself and let myself grieve for a beautiful person who’s no longer in my life.
I love you, Sara.
Not just country music.
But. Just. Music.
Like, who doesn’t love music?
I don’t understand. Someone explain it to me.