When Something Really Good Happens

Right now, I have this feeling like something really good has happened, but I also have this feeling that I want to keep it to myself, so the inside of my brain is like:





Have a great weekend fanz! XO, Maz


An Open Letter to the One I Always Break the Rules For~

Hi, hey, hello,

How’ve ya been? Good? Good. That’s good.

That’s really good. And I mean that. I actually love that you’re happy. I love that you’re in a good place and that you are smiling and that it has nothing to do with me.

I’ve waited for the day that this would make me happy and not jealous. And it finally has.

I haven’t forgotten what I felt with and about you and I sometimes have moments where I wonder if those feelings will ever go away. I hope that they don’t. Because I don’t want to forget that happy girl on the hill as the sunset. I don’t want to forget the laughter bouncing off of the steps of the statue. Or the sense of wonder felt exploring the market for the first time. I have no desire to forget that or you.

And I know that I don’t need to forget or diminish in order to feel that same level of happiness elsewhere. I can still hold those moments closely, but still feel the happiness of the moments that I live here and now. And I think that’s why I’m not jealous anymore, because I know that you can do the same.

I’m glad that you’re happy and I hope that you’re glad that I am too,


I’ve Got A Secret that I’m Not Going to Tell You

Do you know that feeling? That feeling where you know something that other people don’t know. That feeling that you’re ahead of the game or have a one-upper.

I have that feeling to such a massive degree right now. It’s like I know something and I want to scream it to the world because it makes me so happy; but I’m not allowed to yet.

And every once in a while, I’ll remember the secret and smile.

I walk around like I have a hidden agenda, because I do have a hidden agenda.

And I can’t wait to tell you about it.

All in due time fanz. All in due time.

This is Not a Post for Boys

Hello ladies, and the few gentlemen who think they’re being sneaking or just blatantly ignored the title of this blog (you’re really going to wish that you hadn’t unless you’re cool discussing this type of thing, which, good for you if you are, you’re defo boyfriend material).

Today I think there is something that needs to be addressed. Today I really want to talk about PMS.

There I said it. So, boys, get out now, you probably won’t want to go any further than that.

So, anyway, back to the point.

Has any other lady out there ever just wanted to pet a puppy, smell the roses and murder half of the human race all at once?

PMS makes me a crazy b*tch.

It’s like I’m totally fine one second. I’m laughing along to the latest episode of The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. I’m dying at all of the hilarious references made and the next second, I just want to watch Charlie St. Cloud, cuddled in a ball with my softest pillow and cry for hours because SPOILER ALERT he should have picked his brother. Bro love over ho love, Zac Efron you idiot.

I also always want to eat. I can go in the kitchen with a plan in mind. I will have some toast with butter and jelly on it. Oh, but that takes too long to make, so I put the toast in, while it’s toasting I put a baked potato in the oven because that sounds good too. Oh sh*t, that’s going to take even longer. So I get a spoon full of peanut butter and dip it in the coco pops, gotta have that chocolate fix. By the time that’s done, the toast is ready, so I have that. Then, the baked potato is taking it’s sweet damn time, so I pull out last night’s left overs and eat those too. Until finally, the baked potato is finished and I leave the kitchen when I realize that now I have to go to the grocery store because I ate everything in the cabinet.

Then I get inhumanly tired. It’s like I can take a four hour nap after sleeping 8 full hours the night before. There is never enough sleep. I just want to stay glued to my bed so that when the next nap attack comes on, I can just put my laptop on the floor and snooze it out.

Can I also just say f*ck having zits at 20 years old. I don’t pay $400+ on skin care, just to have all of my hard work demolished when Aunt Flo comes to town. And all that contributes to is me becoming even more of an emotional wreck, because I’m tired, I’m hungry, but bloated because I ate so much and now, I’m pissed off that I have pimples dotting my chin and T-zone.

I guess I have concerns. Is this what all of pregnancy will be like in the future? Because absolutely no thank you. I can barely handle myself for a week when I have to deal with this sh*t. Could you imagine myself or a significant other trying to deal with me for nine whole moths?! I’d have to be bat sh*t crazy to put anyone through that.

I don’t know. Am I crazy? I know I’m not the only one who has symptoms like these, but they certainly make me feel like a lunatic.

This Pipe Dream is My Reality

Sometimes it’s the littlest things that make me feel so at home in this foreign country:

Someone stopping me in the street to ask for directions.

Finally getting a British phone number.

Finding a brand of bread that fully fits in the toaster on the first go.

Getting to a Tube station that I’ve never been to before and being able to find my way back to my flat without TubeMap App-ing it.

Picking up new slang that undoubtedly I will take bake to the states and sound like a total d*uchebag.

Obviously, it would be great if there wasn’t a 7 hour plane ride and a five hour time difference separating me from my family and best friends, but living in London forever is starting to look better and better. It was always my intended goal to one day live here, but I don’t know, maybe I always just saw that as a pipe dream. I guess that I always just thought that I craved Europe because I was “stuck” in America; like everything that I felt that I was missing in Philly was because I knew it all had to be in London. In reality, it truly is everything that I was missing. This place has been the epitome of a wild dream world. It’s what I assume is that feeling when you first step foot at your dream college (Fun Fact: I never visited a campus until I arrived at my Freshman Orientation in Philly, joke would have been on me if I totally hated it). But, it’s like I got here and I knew that this was the place where I should be. It’s indescribable really. It just gives you that gut feeling of getting something right. I had put most of my eggs in the London basket for so long, and to be proven right on that risk, well, I just screaming for joy from the top of Tower Bridge.

I just am still so shocked and overjoyed every single day that I get to say, this pipe dream is my reality now.

Cornier Than Nebraska

Favorite Fashion Friday is rearing it’s fabulous head once again. And this week we’re getting cheesier than Wisconsin, cornier than Nebraska and tackier than my bulletin board. This week’s favorite fashion is “HAPPY.” I’ve been rocking this trend for a while now, but I just felt like this was a perfect time to share it.

Happier than Nixon post resignation (Please google that)

Happier than Nixon post resignation (Please google that)

I just had a great week this week. I got to go see a really awesome band (Walk the Moon) perform with V, and I got to spend some time catching up on my school work. I really am so in love with life, it’s almost sickening. Yes, I definitely have my days when I get a little lethargic or have to remind myself where I am and what I’m doing, but for the most part, I am just so obnoxiously happy. It’s a trend that everyone can wear. Everyone looks good in it too. So go out and find your happy. You won’t regret that investment.