one hundred

This is my one hundredth blog post. Call me crazy, but I think one hundred blog posts is crazy. For those of you who weren't around on my first post (that would be all of you) and are interested, here is my very first post. Reading it now is kind of a nauseating experience. I was sickly and undeniably infatuated with a certain someone (*cough*) and sickly and undeniably pining for them. However, my first blog posts were purely me writing. The writing itself isn't so different. A lot of things have changed, but through the moving-out-learning-to-be-independent and getting-the-guy, I'm still much the same person. I still love love and I'm still a sickly hopeless romantic. So. In honor of my 100th post I am going to do two things. The second of which will be a giveaway I will be announcing within the next week! (eep. I'm excited) The first of which will be one hundred things. Words, pictures, facts, videos. Things I like, things about me, things I'm scared of, things I want to do, and just general life-y things! Enjoy.

One. My biggest insecurity growing up was my smile. I endured braces for three years to fix them, and while I love them to death, I still sometimes feel like I don't look like me minus the gap.

Two. I am deathly scared of ketchup.
Three. I hate commitment, but I love stability. Which is probably why I hate commitment. It took a lot of 'passes' to finally say yes to something that didn't seem to have a definite expiration date.
Four. Joseph Gordin-Levitt is the most perfect person in the universe.
Five. Despite my stability attachment, I love change. I'm Mrs. Adaptable.
Six.  In High School, I hated having nothing to say when people asked me when I had my first kiss blah blah blah and who it was with. I hated those questions. I lied. I avoided it. I mean, who wants to be the girl who no one wanted to kiss?? Now, after the fact, I tell everyone younger than me to wait it out. It's a sweet moment- but it wouldn't be sweet with anyone you didn't care about. I'm not saying you should wait until your soulmate knocks at your door, but I'm saying, the fireworks and explosion is a myth. It doesn't happen like that. What makes the moment is sharing it with someone you like and care about that makes you giddy in and out- whether you're kissing or not! 
Seven. I am computer incompetent.
Eight. I see no reason not to be happy. Ever. It's that simple, really.
Nine. Being average scares me more than anything.
Ten. I broke my right wrist when I was eight and it was the best three months of my life.
Eleven. Except for getting my wisdom teeth removed.
Twelve. I wish every single day that it's October 1, 2009 and that I could be back on that beach in Mexico at 2am overseeing a turtle nursery. Every. Single. Day.
Thirteen. I'm in love with snow, but I hate the cold.
Fourteen. Gilmore Girls is the best television show ever created.
Fifteen. I hate being mad. My angry-spurts last an hour or two at most- it turns into this vicious cycle of being mad at myself for being mad in the first place. And most of the time, it's my own fault. I don't like to tell people when I'm mad at them and it builds up into this giant ball of fury. I get so angry at myself for being angry that the problem itself dissolves and then I realize how silly I'm being and talk the matter through with the subject. It's a weird thing.

Sixteen. I want six kids someday.
Seventeen. I hate running.
Eighteen. Someone once asked me if I could do anything in the world and know it would happen, what would I do? It scares me that I'm not trying to do it.
Nineteen. I am clueless and know absolutely nothing except for the things I know. I know my sister is the single most important person on the planet to me. I know I have the best parents in the world. I know every day is a gift. I know that I want to work hard. I know that even if I don't know what it is, I always want to make the "right" choice.
Twenty. I hate thinking about a time in my life when my parents don't exist. It eats me up.

 Idaho. Wheat Fields. Friends.Dresses. Light.

Twenty one. The happiest day of my life was June 11, 2010. Graduating and looking up into the bleachers to see every single person I've ever truly loved in one single place just for me.
Twenty two. Audrey Hepburn. Taylor Swift. Ellen Degeneres. Sandra Bullock. Emma Stone. Zoe Deschanel. Allison Harvard.
Twenty three. My favorite color is purple.
Twenty four. I've recently been converted to a cuddle-er. Big time.
Twenty five. I'm kind of in the process of kind of, maybe, sort of writing something real. Maybe.
Twenty six. The most embarrassing moment of my life involved flatulence. Since then, I've been terrified of ever letting another soul hear me let loose.
Twenty seven. My favorite thing in the world is to be asked questions. And to ask them.
Twenty eight.  Leaving my hometown was the best decision I ever made.

Twenty nine. e.e. cummings
Thirty. I could rewatch anything with Amanda Bynes in it five thousand times and still laugh just as hard as the first.
Thirty one. I have this idea in my head that if I can get to New York, all my dreams will come true.
Thirty two. I hate seeing people who don't try. I hate seeing people who don't care. I hate seeing people who have no passions and no hope. Those are the people I feel the worst for because even if it's due to my sheltered naive opinion, but I truly think that every single person is good and every single person is important. When I see someone that doesn't even have the care or esteem to want something better for themselves, it devastates me.
Thirty three. I love anything that I can sing to.
Thirty four. Spandex and leggings are God's gift to a woman's legs.
Thirty five. Playlists.

Thirty six. I really want to be that cool indie girl that looks like she stepped out of a forties film with red lipstick and polka dots on her skirt that listens to the cutest music and takes the most artsy pictures, but I'm just not that classy and I'll never be that cool.
Thirty seven. I believe in fairytales in the realest sense. Kissing every single morning and night. Falling asleep together. The bad days where nothing sticks but you make it to the next day, to a new day, together. Being best friends.
Thirty eight. Boys clothes are so much more comfortable. But I couldn't survive a day without my dresses and tights.
Thirty nine. It was my goal two years ago to stop living to make other people happy. I have only recently been able to say that I don't care how people see me and I don't care how loud or obnoxious or insane I seem, because it feels unlike anything else for people to see everything out in the open like that. For people to actually know me.

Forty. I don't wear high heels.
Forty one. I tend to exaggerate details of a story. I'm getting better, though. All the time.
Forty two. My favorite place in the world is the place I hated in the years driving the fifteen hours to our family cabin in Wyoming. I want to live, breathe, and die there. See it here!
Forty three. I could live off of pasta every single day of my life and be o-kay.
Forty four. I had Barbie, Spongebob, and Barney bedding growing up.
Forty five. My birthday cakes get progressively younger in theme every single year.
Forty six. I have Bieber-Fever. For the boy, not the music.

Forty seven. Oversize cardigans make the world go round.
Forty eight. I'm the single pickiest eater in the whole world. I...just don't like food. Plain and simple.
Forty nine. I'm 18 and six months old.
Fifty. Ice cream dates are the best.
Fifty one. I like to think that everything happens for a reason and if everything is supposed to come together or fall apart, it will.
Fifty two. I had my first kiss when I was 17.
Fifty three. I've been obsessed with the name 'Faye' for as long as I can remember.
Fifty four. I want my name to be spelled with an -ey and I want my middle name to be conjoined with the first. Maggey-Grace.

Fifty five. I've never cried in front of anyone.
Fifty six. I'm fascinated by funerals and cemeteries.
Fifty seven. Someday, I want to go to church every single Sunday and on Christmas and Easter regardless of my beliefs in God.
Fifty eight. My favorite holiday is Halloween followed by Easter.
Fifty nine. I like drinking hot chocolate in July and eating ice cream in December.
Sixty. I hate copy-cats.
Sixty one. I am afraid of dogs I don't know and all cats.
Sixty two. My dream is to revive snail mail.
Sixty three. My dad is the coolest person I know.
Sixty four. My grandma is my best friend.
Sixty five. I could not feasibly commit suicide. Ever. I'm afraid of needles and knives (and all things pointy). I'm also afraid of heights and guns. I also can't swallow pills. It physically could. Not. Happen. ;)
Sixty six. I am feeling so narcissistic talking about myself like this.

Sixty seven. But secretly, I think everyone should have a little narcissism to themselves. I think everyone should be in love with themselves and who they are. I don't think anyone should look at themselves and only see what isn't perfect. I think everyone should see themselves as perfect just the way they are and say what they want, dress how they want, do what they want, and feel how they want to feel. I don't think it should be wrong to think you are gorgeous, cool, amazing, and smart. I don't think anyone shoAniuld be afraid to say, "I love myself."
Sixty eight. I've been in love with the piano since I was in first grade and have since dreamed of being able to play.
Sixty nine. Every time a family member calls our house, I instinctively always expect the worst news. I'm always expecting the next tragedy or horrible event.

Seventy. There is nothing worse than seeing someone you love endure loss.
Seventy one.  Loss has been the one thing that has shaped me, more than anything else. I live for the boy who can't and work hard for the person who thought I could do anything.
Seventy two. I'm not a night owl or a morning person.
Seventy three. I think my biological clock is in tune to a cat's sleeping cycle.
Seventy four. Adobe photoshop is my newest addiction.
Seventy five. I love long hair. And curls.

Seventy six. Period pieces are my favorite.
Seventy seven. I think my life is supposed to be a re-make of 500 Days Of Summer and I'm supposed to be the heart-breaking flighty Summer that she was until she finds an exception.
Seventy eight. Animated films are the bees knees. When I'm forty with kids of my own, I'm going to drag them to every single one.
Seventy nine. I love bring-your-daughter-to-work-day. Still.
Eighty. I went on my first roller-coaster last summer. And now I'm addicted to them.
Eighty one. I want my wedding cake to be a multi-layer cheesecake.
Eighty two. I honestly fill some sort of void when I shop. It makes me feel better. It's really, really bad.

Eighty three. I went to the "Speak Now" midnight release. But someday, I want to go to a midnight release of a future Taylor album in Nashville.
Eighty four. I want to road-trip to the tip of South America someday.
Eighty five. I am so, so, so excited to be a mom. I want to make forts every single day, dance around the living room with them, and make PB&J's with faces for them.
Eighty six. I'm horrible at driving. Even though I got a 100 on my written and driving test.
Eighty seven. I love hanging out with my sister and my best friend Jenni and her sister. We're a foursome that is inseparable. We're best friends and I love it.
Eighty eight. I love being organized. I love cleaning. But I'm the messiest person in the world.
Eighty nine. My mom and Taylor Swift's mom bonded over talking about parenting Taylor and I.

Ninety. I love Shea-Butter scent-infused socks.
Ninety one. I'm psycho about the paranormal.
Ninety two. I'm totally a sucker for consumer targeting. If I see something that sparkles on tv, I'm going to go find it.
Ninety three. I only want a giant closet and a hot-tub someday. I don't care about the size of my bed, living room, tv, or kitchen. I just want the biggest closest in the entire world.
Ninety four. I love dressing people. And imagining what would look cute on them.
Ninety five. I'm over-analytical and I over-think everything and I freak about everything, but I'm simple. At the end of the day, having my family is enough for me. Crocheting myself to sleep makes me happy. I like walking. I can read all day and be perfectly happy. I'm easy to make happy.
Ninety six. I love buying presents. I love loving people.
Ninety seven. I like taking pictures and I like photography, but I'm no photographer.

Ninety eight. I'm addicted to coffee and ice cream and dresses and shower gel and writing and vitamin water and Taylor Swift and squealing.
Ninety nine. I am obsessed with buying greeting cards. OBSESSED.
One hundred. Blogging has been the most fun and greatest experience because of all of you. I sincerely love all of the support you have given me. I love knowing that when I have a bad day, I can write about it and someone will undoubtedly listen. I love that you all have let me dress how I want to and I love that that has translated into real life. I love that you all inspire me through your blogs- I love hearing your stories and learning about your lives. I think each and every single one of you are completely fascinating and beautiful. Thank you for these eight months and being more than just readers. I love you.