#fall

A couple of weeks ago my boyfriend and I rented and car and drove to the beautiful state of New Hampshire.  It was a crisp fall day and as we made our way north I couldn’t help but be amazed by how beautiful the foliage was.  Living in the city has given me limited to nature, so seeing the tremendous beauty that is the North East in fall was almost overwhelming.  I understand why people drive hours to gaze at nature will their fellow leaf peepers; it’s truly remarkable.

As I starred at the colorful trees that lined the highway I said, “I know this might sound basic…but I love fall.”

I am not ashamed to say that I, like every stereotypical suburban girl, love fall.  It’s the perfect season.  Spring doesn’t exist anymore, summer is sweaty, and winter is just…winter.  Fall is the combination of everything I love; pretty colors, football, and pumpkin flavored everything.  Since this beloved season will be gone before we know it, I decided to reflect on the many reasons I love fall.  So when I’m trudging through the snow and cursing myself for living in the North East, I’ll remember that I have something to look forward to.

Apple picking: free apples (i.e., the ones you eat while you’re apple picking), apple cider donuts, and planning all the apple-inspired desserts I’ll never make.

IPAs, whiskey, and red wine galore: so long 3% summer beers and hello 9% IPAs! Although I do enjoy the occasional warm-weather cocktail, I much prefer a whiskey neat or a glass of red wine. Both of which are unpleasant when consumed in 95 degree weather, no matter how good the air conditioning is.

Sundays once again have purpose: football is back! Spending the day drinking beer, eating wings, and screaming at the TV is what dreams are made of.

Leaves changing: Instagram heaven.

Boot and sweater season: wearing open-toed shoes in the city is fucking disgusting. Plus my office is never a consistent temperature and carrying a sweater in the summer is annoying. Also, boots makes my legs look more proportionate (thank you CrossFit and spin).

Chai lattes: PSLs are pretty good, but I love me a good chai latte.  Now I can walk around and admire the foliage while I sip my tasty beverage, instead of angrily sitting in a loud, pretentious coffee shop.

No more shorts: no one looks good in shorts…no one.

Sweating on the subway becomes less common: the platform has finally cooled and is no longer 100+ degrees. That was a thing…and it was horrible.

Halloween: the most wonderful time of the year in my humble opinion.

Farmers markets galore: I love that anywhere there’s even remotely space in New York a farmer’s market manifests. It’s like when you say “Starbucks” three times in Manhattan.

We were truly blessed this year to have a legit fall. As the days grow shorter and colder and the imminent doom of snow, wind, and the holidays ascend upon us, I will fondly reminisce about brightly colored trees, light jackets, and Oktoberfest beers on tap at every bar.

Bro Chick Problems

Whenever I tell people about this site, the first question they typically ask is “What does ‘bro chick’ mean?” I included the section found in the header of this blog for just that reason, but I wanted to elaborate on it further.  Urban dictionary defines  a bro chick as “a girl who will sit back, drink beer, play video games and football with you, and still spend 5 f**king hours doing her makeup.”  Well said Urban dictionary, well said.  The nickname was given to me because I say and do things like the following:

“I really want to watch the football game at 1pm, but all the good produce at the farmer’s market will be gone by 2pm.  Ahhhh.”

“I want to look pretty but I don’t understand how hair curlers or eyelash curlers work.”  Pretty much any beauty tool seems more like a weapon than a make-me-pretty device in my opinion.

I cannot walk in heels.  I look constipated.

I don’t watch sports to look “cute”.  I have genuine interest in this game and have a lot riding on it for my fantasy team.

Other women think dude friends want something “more” than friendship from women.  Not the case as with my friends I am seen as a non-sexual object, like a little sister.  Or a lamp.

On that note, once you become a non-sexual object all the vulgar stories and gross behavior men do without the presence of a female comes forth.  For you are now another bro and things like pooping and girl’s nipple sizes become frequent topics of discussion.

In college I was frequently handed Mike’s Hard Lemonades or Smirnoff Ices instead of beers.  Now I frequently have to pipe up when the bartender looks around and says “Who ordered the whiskey?”  I did, no Cosmopolitans here.  No sir.

“No that’s his salad.  I ordered the bacon mac and cheese.”

Interrupting thoughts such as “I can’t believe Eli threw four interceptions last night.  So awf…oh man I need a manicure.  My nails look like a farmers…I wonder how many calories are in this smoothie.  Who has a bye week next week?

A bro chick is a unique hybrid between a guy and a girl; she will manage your fantasy football league and then buy a wildly over-priced pair of rain boots because they’re “in” and “functional”.  She will wear a cocktail dress and drink beer until the dress gets too tight which is when she will promptly switch to whiskey.  She is your drinking buddy, your wing-woman, and your bro with boobs.  Do not be put off by her lack of interest in hairstyles and fashion for she will make up for that with her sweet baking skills.  She is sarcastic, she is unique, and she is writing this post.