"I Don't Care, I Love It"

I'd say these are the icons most commonly needing a close out on the ol' iPhone. I text, I check Facebook and Instagram, and I certainly am improving my BikeRace skills. All make red lights or traffic a little more enjoyable. My latest addition - Snapchat. You may be skeptical. I certainly was. 

Perhaps that's why my screen name for the app has nothing to do with my real name. I go by MadisonFairway. Why? Simple. Possibly like you, when I first heard of Snapchat and what it does my mind jumped straight to  'sketchy'. An app for your phone where you can send pictures to your bank of friends/contacts to last any number of seconds, up to 10, and then disappear forever. What would you need to send that you would never want anyone to save? An entirely new wave of "sexting"? Is that what my friends were doing? Surely not, because they were talking openly about it and from whom they were receiving snaps. I steered clear. For a little while.... Then curiosity got the best of me. Still sketched out of the possibilities, and more so of the app informing everyone in my contact list that I joined, I made an alias name.  Now - knowing how its used and who all is on it - I can't change my damn name. So every time I send a request, I hear "Who the hell is MadisonFairway?". Luckily my friends have a mind as curious as mine, so they accept the request.  Instantly they are told it is me. 

When I found out that snap chat had video capabilities, I was overjoyed.  I'd say the majority of the ones I receive (and send) are from a car or bar. Miniature music videos or 10 seconds of someone enjoying a beverage and letting out a good 'ahhh' after the crisp taste of refreshment - thank you to friends Hunter, Jonathan, and Fitzi for making each day (literally) that much more enjoyable. Your Snapchat's never get old.  I received the text message to the right the other day following an 8 second jam session, probably to that of Icona Pop's "I Love It". Apparently I keep the air conditioning up too high and it's bringing to much A-Game to my videos. Sorry, Rocky, there is a pop diva within me and she's begging to be discovered. How embarrassing.  Other crowd favorites I've received - a Bruno Mars jam session from @TreyPlaysMusic, and ongoing guessing games of "Where am I?" - be gentle with that one.

Overall, I'd  say my feelings about Snapchat are just like that of passing notes, 

regardless of the content, at least you got one. 

Watch the video #TreatYoSelf

Quite the Catch

Kickball is over. We dominated the season, but pooped the bed if you will for the championship. I'd blame it on our ability to hydrate heavily before the game, or just thinking we are natural born athletes, but in this case it just wouldn't be true. Instead I am going to put the blame on the attempted hidden poor sportsmanship from a gentleman named Karl. I'd like to put emphasis on the word attempt. You see, I think Karl has good intentions, or he did last year when there were several teams playing, but this year his blatant dislike for Team Pitch Slapped was almost comical. There were 3 teams in the league...that's including us. Which means the other two teams hated the fact that we showed up week after week in jorts, blaring loud music, showing no pride for ourselves - only that of America - and still managed to take home the W. So Karl, the big man on campus and head of the league, decided that during the championship game we were suddenly going to be playing by the rules? Weren't we the whole season? After several cough*bullsh*t*cough calls and dejecting our teammate David from the field, we lost. What happens next? Nothing. Well, relatively. We still kept tradition alive and like real winners kept our heads held high and headed straight to the watering hole. Jello awaits. The true highlight and message to the MVP of the night was Karl yelling ...."We are not going to start playing again until you are OFF THE GRASS!" - Cue David waving the American flag proudly from the parking lot as he watches his team take the field for one last inning. I'd say we left as champions after all.

I might not be able to catch a kickball, but I proved to be an animal when it comes to bouquets. At the Stewart/Sellers (#stellerwedding) wedding I apparently flung myself in the air for the win. I do love a good hydrangea. Perhaps I couldn't resist. The bruise on my foot and entertaining video footage from my iPhone proves that I am not the only one who was getting aggressive that night. Thank you to whoever snagged this snapshot of me and sent along to our friend - I love it? Maybe I have some sweet gems of you :) Nothing like getting pictures of yourself the next day from those not at the wedding. #paparazzi #sketchy - I guess I've reached the top.

Noteworthy

I love a good note. Whether it's a post-it, a hand written card, or on a scrap piece of whatever, the surprise of unexpected words always makes me smile. Call it sentimental but in high school I was once slid a lunch napkin with "To Lacey:" and a flower drawn on it and I thought it was the sweetest thing ever. Swag points to that handsome sophomore. I can only imagine what his game looks like these days. And there is nothing better than coming out to your car, getting in, and seeing a note waiting your arrival underneath your windshield wiper. A sentence or two, maybe a "hi", doesn't matter. I love it. 

Not that I wouldn't love a good passed note these days either, folded like origami as a bonus, but it gets me thinking of the glory days of middle school and "dating". If I said to my mom, "I'm going out with Robbie", she'd say, "Oh really, where are you going?". A real comedian, my mother. What it really meant was that I was passing notes with him between classes, probably wrote him back on the bus ride to school, and between rec league soccer games on the weekend we may have begged our parents to drive us to the mall. Pure romance. For a while I saved all those gems and when moving to our new home, read through each of them. Between rocking skorts, Adidas windbreaker suits, a year with braces, and what was in these notes - all I can really say is that I am thankful social media was not around. No need to have any record of my appearance, nor my awesome attempt at being 'cool'. My talent show dance in the 8th grade probably spoke for itself - - an awesome routine to La Fiesta by Will Smith. And yes, it was featured on his Willennium CD. I bet the notes were pouring in after that showing. 

Pass somebody a note today. It's a guaranteed smile.