Source: h-e-r-o-i-n

To My Future Boyfriend: Greeting Cards

To my future boyfriend,

I’m not a fan of greeting cards, but if at any point you decide I’m “The ONE”, I’ll make the exception if you give me this..

Plane Etiquette



- Quit corralling around the gate entrance I get it, ever since those money-grubbing airlines started charging you to check in your bags, you want to haul ass to your seat so that you can get your bags tucked away overhead and underneath so you don’t have to deal with the dreaded “all overhead compartments are full, if you still have a bag, you’ll have to check it in at the front.” But crowding the entrance to the tunnel is the equivalent of trying to rush to the front of a line for a concert in a seated amphitheater. We all have seats, no one else is going to have it but you, there’s NO sense in trying to bowl over people just to get in the plane first. It’s stupid and you look like a herd of cattle with wheelies.

- Don’t be an asshole with the overhead bins With that said, part of the reason there’s such an epidemic amongst the lack of space found in overhead bins is due to the assholes who decide to put things like their fucking peacoat and knapsacks up there. WHY do you do that? God forbid you have to keep that in your lap or underneath your seat. Maybe I don’t understand the concept of “leg-room” since I’m only 4’10” but if you wanted “comfort” then you could’ve paid for a first class seat. Quit taking up unnecessary space. This results in me looking bewildered as I search for a spot to place my Betsey Johnson roller bag until a flight attendant pities my obvious lack of upper body strength and whisks it away for me to place it even further back on the plane from where I’m sitting. Now I’ll have to wait until everyone gets off so I can retrieve it, all because you couldn’t keep you fucking laptop bag underneath the seat in front of you.

- Just wear your seatbelt I don’t know why this particularly gets under my skin, maybe because it’s just so obvious and common sense, that even if you rarely ever travel it shouldn’t be difficult to know that the seatbelt on your seat isn’t optional. Don’t sit there when you’ve heard half a dozen times to fasten your seatbelt with your seatbelt unfastened! No one’s asking you to route all passengers to make a safe water exit, they just want you to put on your damn belt

- Don’t make small talk unless I look like I want to be talked to (which is never) Most of the time when I fly it’s either a red-eye or pretty early in the a.m. The thing I’m looking forward to the most is for everyone to get their asses on the plane (notably have everyone in my row be there asap) and trying to fall asleep until my layover city where I’ll wake up having a Night At The Roxbury head bopping moment to work out the kinks in my neck from sleeping like a retard. What I DON’T want is for YOU to try and make small talk with me. I know I know it can help pass the time or there’s that off-chance that you’ll meet your new bff or even soul mate. But for all the times I’ve flown, that “chance” of sitting next to my soul mate has been -300% and I’d much prefer to pass the time dreaming about all the people that could be my soul mate (Andrew Garfield are you listening?) than hear about how you own a Subway at 25 and you’re going to some conference about it. Unless the words “free Subway for life” are uttered from your mouth, I don’t care about your footlong when I’ve been up since 4am

- Don’t fall asleep ON your fellow passengers If we have the same plan of sleeping during our flight, for the love of God DON’T FALL ASLEEP ON ME. I’d like to say that it’s kind of out of your control because once you’re out, you’re out. But I have NEVER fallen asleep ON anyone ever (because I’m basically a ninja at sitting up and falling asleep). Somehow, it’s happened to me on more than one occasion. Trust me, it’s way more awkward for you. When your head is on my boob I will not hesitate to violently push you off so that you wake up wondering what the fuck just happened

- Don’t be the creep in the middle seat that awkwardly stares out the window Everyone loves to “ooh” and “ahh” at the aerial views we get at an altitude of 32,000 feet, but the person in the window seat already feels weird when they can feel your pupils burning through them as you try to peer out their window. I’ve even had a woman lean over with her camera to take a photo without even asking if I was cool with her invading my personal space (which, I think we all know the answer is a big fat “NO”). If you wanted the window seat, you should’ve planned better and booked your flight earlier or actually taken the time to select your seat, because we know full well that no one voluntarily selects to sit in the middle

- Don’t ask to switch seats Look, I’m not trying to be a bitch here, I call it more just brutal honesty. Unless you’re getting the better end of the deal by opting out of a middle seat, or you’re a family with small children, I think it’s absolutely rude to ask someone to switch seats with you. In this day and age you can select your seats in the midst of or immediately after booking your flight. It’s not my fault that I smartly selected an aisle seat and you didn’t take the time to do it or you ended up booking your ticket when the flight was nearly full. Don’t ask me to take your middle seat so you can be closer to your honey-boo-boo. I don’t care, you’ll survive sitting apart from each other for 3 hours.

- LEAVE THE BABIES AT HOME From my friends to the celebrities I follow on Twitter, the number one complaint is ALWAYS about the screaming baby they get stuck sitting in front of during a flight. NO ONE wants to hear/see your screaming baby during a flight. I don’t even understand the logic of bringing an infant onto a plane. Yes, I know my parents flew with me when I was barely graduating from being a fetus, but I came out with a halo over my head so I was an exception. But if you’re just traveling to see family, I would much rather you spend that money to give to THEM to come see you rather than vice versa. It sucks for all parties when you bring your baby on board. It’s uncomfortable for the baby who can’t handle the elevation, it sucks for everyone else on the plane because they get the displeasure of alternating hatred and pity while listening to your child scream for 5 hours straight and you the parent get the uncomfortable embarrassment of knowing that everyone in rows 15-32 HATES YOU.

Hey Neha, where can I find the best mac n cheese in LA?

Oh man I totally did not even think to check my inbox because I didn’t think anyone was asking me questions. So far best mac & cheese I’ve had in LA is at Lemonade in Beverly Hills. www.lemonadela.com super creamy and delicious.

katyisntfunny:

I just needed this on my blog.

this.

katyisntfunny:

I just needed this on my blog.

this.

Source: dhaffey

ifc:

theclearlydope:

The 1% of funny people. 

popculturebrain:

‘Wet Hot’ Friends Reunite for Stage Show | EW

All of you are really really really great.

I so wish I could’ve been there for this!

Source: popculturebrain

fystarwars:

(by M.Flovent)

my future boyfriend, please take note.

Source: fystarwars

Oh My God this is amazing.  Well done Mande, well done.

shellylessthan3:

nfloffseason:

The fantastic Joe Mande called it; Alex Smith is the closest thing the NFL has to Dillon Panthers quarterback Matt Saracen, from Friday Night Lights. Let’s explore the parallels.
- Alex’s final drive on Sunday contained a miraculous last-second touchdown pass, like in the Season One state championship game, and a heart-breaking comeback from the opposing team, like the Season Three state championship game, and everyone cried tears of joy, like when Tami Taylor found out she was pregnant. (Please no spoilers, I’m still in the middle of Season Four) - Matt Saracen had to care for his elderly grandmother, who was in the  early stages of dementia. Alex Smith had to deal with offensive  coordinator Jimmy Raye, who occasionally forgot what down it was. Once,  in a goal-line situation, Smith had to burn a timeout AND sing “Mr.  Sandman” to Raye just to get him to send in a play.
- Neither Matt Saracen nor Alex Smith has ever had a legitimate wide receiver to throw to. The emergence of Delanie Walker as a receiving threat is kind of like the episode where Landry caught a touchdown pass and Coach Taylor still called him “Lance.” Although Delanie Walker never murdered anyone.
- What they did have were Tim Riggins and Vernon Davis. Both are former disciplinary problems turned team leaders. Both started off as blockers, but when they were actually made a part of the offense, they became devastating weapons. Each has a brother with a drinking problem. Also both looked like full-grown men as teenagers, although for Riggins, that  was because he was played by a 28-year-old.
 - They also had Frank Gore and Smash Williams. Both running backs had obvious talent, but were ignored due to a knee injuries, and eventually paid huge dividends for the team that took a chance on them. Frank Gore never resorted to steroids, but then again, he also never had to work at an Alamo Freeze.
- Saracen was abandoned by his mentor, Coach Taylor, who left for a better  job at TMU. Smith was abandoned by his mentor, Norv Turner, who left to  run the San Diego Chargers into the ground. Frankly, I don’t think Norv  is even qualified to be the head coach of TMU.
- Later, Coach Taylor chose J.D. McCoy over Saracen, and blew the state  championship game because of it. Coach Mike Singletary started Troy  Smith ahead of Alex, and blew the easily winnable 2010 NFC West  division.- Smith also lost his job to J.T. O’Sullivan, which might  as well have been the name of a Friday Night Lights character.  Offensive coordinator Mike Martz preferred O’Sullivan to Smith, just  like Wade Aikman supported J.D. McCoy.
- In his title game win, Saracen defeated his archrival, Voodoo Tatum. In his division round win, Smith defeated a team from New Orleans, the most voodoo-friendly city in America.
- Matt Saracen had sex with his coach’s daughter. On the sidelines, Coach Mike Singletary once angrily suggested that Alex Smith go have sex with himself.
So what are we to expect as fans on Sunday? Will Alex Smith triumph against the New York Giants, the Arnett Meade of the NFL? Will the rain turn Candlestick into a Mud Bowl? Will Alex Smith be distracted by his father’s unexpected return from Iraq? Did anyone ever find out what happened to the Latino kid that Buddy Garritty adopted?
All will be answered soon. Who’s got clearer eyes and fuller hearts than us? Nobody!
(Sean Keane)

Oh My God this is amazing. Well done Mande, well done.

shellylessthan3:

nfloffseason:

The fantastic Joe Mande called it; Alex Smith is the closest thing the NFL has to Dillon Panthers quarterback Matt Saracen, from Friday Night Lights. Let’s explore the parallels.

- Alex’s final drive on Sunday contained a miraculous last-second touchdown pass, like in the Season One state championship game, and a heart-breaking comeback from the opposing team, like the Season Three state championship game, and everyone cried tears of joy, like when Tami Taylor found out she was pregnant. (Please no spoilers, I’m still in the middle of Season Four)

- Matt Saracen had to care for his elderly grandmother, who was in the early stages of dementia. Alex Smith had to deal with offensive coordinator Jimmy Raye, who occasionally forgot what down it was. Once, in a goal-line situation, Smith had to burn a timeout AND sing “Mr. Sandman” to Raye just to get him to send in a play.

- Neither Matt Saracen nor Alex Smith has ever had a legitimate wide receiver to throw to. The emergence of Delanie Walker as a receiving threat is kind of like the episode where Landry caught a touchdown pass and Coach Taylor still called him “Lance.” Although Delanie Walker never murdered anyone.

- What they did have were Tim Riggins and Vernon Davis. Both are former disciplinary problems turned team leaders. Both started off as blockers, but when they were actually made a part of the offense, they became devastating weapons. Each has a brother with a drinking problem. Also both looked like full-grown men as teenagers, although for Riggins, that was because he was played by a 28-year-old.

 - They also had Frank Gore and Smash Williams. Both running backs had obvious talent, but were ignored due to a knee injuries, and eventually paid huge dividends for the team that took a chance on them. Frank Gore never resorted to steroids, but then again, he also never had to work at an Alamo Freeze.

- Saracen was abandoned by his mentor, Coach Taylor, who left for a better job at TMU. Smith was abandoned by his mentor, Norv Turner, who left to run the San Diego Chargers into the ground. Frankly, I don’t think Norv is even qualified to be the head coach of TMU.

- Later, Coach Taylor chose J.D. McCoy over Saracen, and blew the state championship game because of it. Coach Mike Singletary started Troy Smith ahead of Alex, and blew the easily winnable 2010 NFC West division.

- Smith also lost his job to J.T. O’Sullivan, which might as well have been the name of a Friday Night Lights character. Offensive coordinator Mike Martz preferred O’Sullivan to Smith, just like Wade Aikman supported J.D. McCoy.

- In his title game win, Saracen defeated his archrival, Voodoo Tatum. In his division round win, Smith defeated a team from New Orleans, the most voodoo-friendly city in America.

- Matt Saracen had sex with his coach’s daughter. On the sidelines, Coach Mike Singletary once angrily suggested that Alex Smith go have sex with himself.

So what are we to expect as fans on Sunday? Will Alex Smith triumph against the New York Giants, the Arnett Meade of the NFL? Will the rain turn Candlestick into a Mud Bowl? Will Alex Smith be distracted by his father’s unexpected return from Iraq? Did anyone ever find out what happened to the Latino kid that Buddy Garritty adopted?

All will be answered soon. Who’s got clearer eyes and fuller hearts than us? Nobody!

(Sean Keane)

Source: nfloffseason

shellylessthan3:

I definitely teared up reading this.
aileen365:

This isn’t a love story about a gay couple.
It’s a love story, period.

doesn’t matter who the players are, this makes you believe in love and the sanctity of it.

NEIL PATRICK HARRIS
I ran into my friend Kate one day and she was with this brooding, James Dean–type guy in a leather jacket who gave me the head nod and then turned away. I assumed he was Kate’s boyfriend and said, “Nicely done.” And she said, “David? He’s not playing on my team, but he has a boyfriend.” So, then I just kept seeing him on the periphery, and in turn, catching up on him, but I didn’t want to be that guy who was creating some sort of romantic interference. So, I was always around when he was around, hoping the stars would align. When we all hung out for the first time — I was invited by Kate to an American Idol viewing party — I just stammered around him. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
There’s something kinetic about him and his being. He’s classically sexy, yet he’s very much a boy in his energy. It’s a great dynamic. When I see people who are equally attractive, they tend to seem more quiet and kind of Marlboro Man-y, and David’s the antithesis of that. He’s more like Tigger. I’m, in turn, very introspective — the thinker, rather than the doer. I tend to weigh options before making decisions, and David is the polar opposite of that. We’re hyper similar and also incredibly opposite. We share a wardrobe. We have the same shoe size, body size, height, and weight. We’re both Gemini. We both like the idea of family — not a nuclear family, but a social family. Yet, we’re incredibly opposite in the way we process information.
I remember being in my mid-twenties, lying in bed thinking, I’ve never taken a shower with anyone before; I’ve never had any kind of long-term relationship. I remember thinking that the rest of my life would be solo. I wasn’t weepy when I thought that — it was just a realization that I had gone this long being self-sufficient. Thankfully, the world changed and perceptions changed, and my life went to the East Coast, where there’s a much greater acceptance of anonymity and freedom. In New York, I was able to date with my head held higher. In L.A., it felt much more gossipy.
It’s all baby steps: You have to be OK with telling your friends you’re going on a date; you have to be OK with the people in your world meeting and judging them; you have to be OK with breakups. I’m infinitely grateful all those steps led to Mr. Burtka — once we started talking, we never stopped.
Staying with each other didn’t seem like going to the next level because we were sort of transients at the time. We thought if we were both going to be paying $5,000 a month to use someone else’s sheets and towels, we might as well do it together.
We found a place in Harlem that a woman had been living in for 40-odd years, and it was roomy and reasonably priced. We went to L.A. and got this moving truck and collected his mattress and bed frame and some stuff we each had in storage, and we started a journey across the country. We stopped in Albuquerque, where my family is, and they gave us some stuff. And we went through Memphis and up to Michigan, where his family is, and picked up his parents’ piano. We went slowly across America, filling up this truck, and by the time we got to New York, we had a new life full of furniture.
I initially fell for David harder than he fell for me. I was in love with him before he was comfortable saying it, and I think that speaks to our past experiences. I remember saying, “I think I love you,” and he was like, “That’s really nice,” which is not necessarily what you want to hear. But I appreciated his honesty in not jumping the gun and saying something because he felt obliged to.
Two of the things I hold dear, as tenets, are creativity and authenticity. Creativity can be on any level, but authenticity is key, too. If we have a fault, it’s probably over-communication. When I’m cranky, I’m admittedly cranky. When I’m in a hurry and distracted, I can’t act like it’s any other way. And he’s good with that, too. So we talk things out. I don’t want to paint our relationship like we met and it’s been happy family fantastic-ness ever since. What defines a relationship is the work that’s involved to maintain it, and it’s constantly changing. Sometimes I’m deeply in love with David and head-over-heels, and sometimes I question whether it’s going to work out and is meant to be. It’s like a business relationship, as well as a personal one; we have a business together and that’s maintaining our love for one another.
David first proposed to me five years ago on the actual street corner where we met. We were on our way to an event at an Indian casino 45 minutes out of town in a limousine, and David wanted to stop for some reason that I didn’t quite get. I thought he wanted to get some booze or something. And then he got on one knee and proposed, and I was so freaked out by it that I said, “Yes,” but I didn’t know what it meant. Then I got the ring and loved it, and a year later, on Valentine’s Day, I proposed to him in Santa Monica. That was four years ago. The callus on my right hand is long-formed—and not from masturbation. I’m dying to move over to the other hand. I’d also like to call him my husband. I’m not the biggest fan of the word “partner”: It either means that we run a business together or we’re cowboys. “Boyfriend” seems fleeting, like maybe we met two weeks ago. I’ve been saying “better half” for as long as I’ve been able to. I think it’s a little self-deprecating and clearly defines that we’re in a relationship, but it would be nice to say “my husband.”
Children were always talked about, but there was a certain point — when David was in L.A. and I was working on How I Met Your Mother, maybe season two or three — when we both agreed that if we wanted to have kids, we didn’t want to do it super late in the game. We wanted our parents to enjoy the process and to be young and vibrant enough to throw a ball with them, or to chase them around without using a walker. That was the eternal game-changer — now we rarely fight in the big ways. What’s the point? We’re in this for a major long haul.
DAVID BURTKA
I’ve always known I was going to have a monogamous relationship, raise children, and be happy in love. It was the one thing in life that I never doubted for a second. I was in another relationship when I met Neil and was doing the long-distance, New York–to-L.A. thing. It was sort of on the rocks. Long distance is so hard. I was performing in the Sam Mendes version of Gypsy on Broadway when I ran into Neil on the street. He was doing the Mendes version of Cabaret at the time, and I was with a friend who knew him pretty well. I wasn’t a big Doogie Howser fan — I had probably seen it once or twice when I was growing up — so I gave him a, “Hey, what’s up, nice to meet you,” and that was really it. I thought it would be nice to know him, but I didn’t think in a million years I’d start dating him.
We began hanging out with other people, and we had a lunch or so, but nothing romantic. I thought he was adorable, though, with these amazing blue eyes that are just hypnotizing to me. I ended up breaking with my boyfriend, and a week later, Neil and I had a date. We went to see a movie — I think it was Taking Lives with Angelina Jolie. We started hanging out every single night, and after three months, it was just non-stop. We talk on the phone at least eight times a day and text at least 25 times a day. We are, in a way, very codependent. He’s my lifeline, in an amazing way. Without him, I can’t breathe. The biggest thing is that he makes me laugh, but he’s also smart. He can do everything. I’m not kidding; I think he’s half robot. He makes me a little more grounded, and I bring out the wild side in him. Don’t get me wrong — we fight. Our fights last five minutes, then we’re over it. And we’re both Gemini — we have a good twin and a bad twin, and the four of us get along really well!
The first three years was our honeymoon period. Then you settle into the relationship, and it morphs into just living, breathing. It becomes more comfortable, but it becomes a necessity — something you can’t give up, like an addict. How has it changed me? I basically have diarrhea mouth — I am brutally honest to the point of being a negative thing. Now I think more before I speak.
Even on that first date, we talked about kids. If he hadn’t wanted kids, I don’t think we’d be together. I always thought that family was the most important thing in life, and no matter what I do, whether being a chef or an actor or a dancer, being a dad is what I do best. I am the maternal one in the relationship. For the first year, I didn’t miss a nighttime or morning with them. I think it’s important to have other lives and feed your relationship, but it’s also important that your children are raised by you. We named Gideon after an artist we collect, Gideon Rubin, and Harper after Harper Lee. To Kill a Mockingbird is one of our favorite books.
I don’t want people to think we’re a perfect couple. Nothing’s perfect. A relationship is work and it changes. And you go with the changes. It’s more good times than bad times, but it’s not always good. You have to overcome those issues and move on. We have a really great recipe for a wonderful relationship, but we don’t want to be the poster boys for gay relationships. We’re not trying to pretend that we are perfect. We’re just trying — in a good, positive, loving way — to live our lives.

shellylessthan3:

I definitely teared up reading this.

aileen365:

This isn’t a love story about a gay couple.

It’s a love story, period.

doesn’t matter who the players are, this makes you believe in love and the sanctity of it.

NEIL PATRICK HARRIS

I ran into my friend Kate one day and she was with this brooding, James Dean–type guy in a leather jacket who gave me the head nod and then turned away. I assumed he was Kate’s boyfriend and said, “Nicely done.” And she said, “David? He’s not playing on my team, but he has a boyfriend.” So, then I just kept seeing him on the periphery, and in turn, catching up on him, but I didn’t want to be that guy who was creating some sort of romantic interference. So, I was always around when he was around, hoping the stars would align. When we all hung out for the first time — I was invited by Kate to an American Idol viewing party — I just stammered around him. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

There’s something kinetic about him and his being. He’s classically sexy, yet he’s very much a boy in his energy. It’s a great dynamic. When I see people who are equally attractive, they tend to seem more quiet and kind of Marlboro Man-y, and David’s the antithesis of that. He’s more like Tigger. I’m, in turn, very introspective — the thinker, rather than the doer. I tend to weigh options before making decisions, and David is the polar opposite of that. We’re hyper similar and also incredibly opposite. We share a wardrobe. We have the same shoe size, body size, height, and weight. We’re both Gemini. We both like the idea of family — not a nuclear family, but a social family. Yet, we’re incredibly opposite in the way we process information.

I remember being in my mid-twenties, lying in bed thinking, I’ve never taken a shower with anyone before; I’ve never had any kind of long-term relationship. I remember thinking that the rest of my life would be solo. I wasn’t weepy when I thought that — it was just a realization that I had gone this long being self-sufficient. Thankfully, the world changed and perceptions changed, and my life went to the East Coast, where there’s a much greater acceptance of anonymity and freedom. In New York, I was able to date with my head held higher. In L.A., it felt much more gossipy.

It’s all baby steps: You have to be OK with telling your friends you’re going on a date; you have to be OK with the people in your world meeting and judging them; you have to be OK with breakups. I’m infinitely grateful all those steps led to Mr. Burtka — once we started talking, we never stopped.

Staying with each other didn’t seem like going to the next level because we were sort of transients at the time. We thought if we were both going to be paying $5,000 a month to use someone else’s sheets and towels, we might as well do it together.

We found a place in Harlem that a woman had been living in for 40-odd years, and it was roomy and reasonably priced. We went to L.A. and got this moving truck and collected his mattress and bed frame and some stuff we each had in storage, and we started a journey across the country. We stopped in Albuquerque, where my family is, and they gave us some stuff. And we went through Memphis and up to Michigan, where his family is, and picked up his parents’ piano. We went slowly across America, filling up this truck, and by the time we got to New York, we had a new life full of furniture.

I initially fell for David harder than he fell for me. I was in love with him before he was comfortable saying it, and I think that speaks to our past experiences. I remember saying, “I think I love you,” and he was like, “That’s really nice,” which is not necessarily what you want to hear. But I appreciated his honesty in not jumping the gun and saying something because he felt obliged to.

Two of the things I hold dear, as tenets, are creativity and authenticity. Creativity can be on any level, but authenticity is key, too. If we have a fault, it’s probably over-communication. When I’m cranky, I’m admittedly cranky. When I’m in a hurry and distracted, I can’t act like it’s any other way. And he’s good with that, too. So we talk things out. I don’t want to paint our relationship like we met and it’s been happy family fantastic-ness ever since. What defines a relationship is the work that’s involved to maintain it, and it’s constantly changing. Sometimes I’m deeply in love with David and head-over-heels, and sometimes I question whether it’s going to work out and is meant to be. It’s like a business relationship, as well as a personal one; we have a business together and that’s maintaining our love for one another.

David first proposed to me five years ago on the actual street corner where we met. We were on our way to an event at an Indian casino 45 minutes out of town in a limousine, and David wanted to stop for some reason that I didn’t quite get. I thought he wanted to get some booze or something. And then he got on one knee and proposed, and I was so freaked out by it that I said, “Yes,” but I didn’t know what it meant. Then I got the ring and loved it, and a year later, on Valentine’s Day, I proposed to him in Santa Monica. That was four years ago. The callus on my right hand is long-formed—and not from masturbation. I’m dying to move over to the other hand. I’d also like to call him my husband. I’m not the biggest fan of the word “partner”: It either means that we run a business together or we’re cowboys. “Boyfriend” seems fleeting, like maybe we met two weeks ago. I’ve been saying “better half” for as long as I’ve been able to. I think it’s a little self-deprecating and clearly defines that we’re in a relationship, but it would be nice to say “my husband.”

Children were always talked about, but there was a certain point — when David was in L.A. and I was working on How I Met Your Mother, maybe season two or three — when we both agreed that if we wanted to have kids, we didn’t want to do it super late in the game. We wanted our parents to enjoy the process and to be young and vibrant enough to throw a ball with them, or to chase them around without using a walker. That was the eternal game-changer — now we rarely fight in the big ways. What’s the point? We’re in this for a major long haul.

DAVID BURTKA

I’ve always known I was going to have a monogamous relationship, raise children, and be happy in love. It was the one thing in life that I never doubted for a second. I was in another relationship when I met Neil and was doing the long-distance, New York–to-L.A. thing. It was sort of on the rocks. Long distance is so hard. I was performing in the Sam Mendes version of Gypsy on Broadway when I ran into Neil on the street. He was doing the Mendes version of Cabaret at the time, and I was with a friend who knew him pretty well. I wasn’t a big Doogie Howser fan — I had probably seen it once or twice when I was growing up — so I gave him a, “Hey, what’s up, nice to meet you,” and that was really it. I thought it would be nice to know him, but I didn’t think in a million years I’d start dating him.

We began hanging out with other people, and we had a lunch or so, but nothing romantic. I thought he was adorable, though, with these amazing blue eyes that are just hypnotizing to me. I ended up breaking with my boyfriend, and a week later, Neil and I had a date. We went to see a movie — I think it was Taking Lives with Angelina Jolie. We started hanging out every single night, and after three months, it was just non-stop. We talk on the phone at least eight times a day and text at least 25 times a day. We are, in a way, very codependent. He’s my lifeline, in an amazing way. Without him, I can’t breathe. The biggest thing is that he makes me laugh, but he’s also smart. He can do everything. I’m not kidding; I think he’s half robot. He makes me a little more grounded, and I bring out the wild side in him. Don’t get me wrong — we fight. Our fights last five minutes, then we’re over it. And we’re both Gemini — we have a good twin and a bad twin, and the four of us get along really well!

The first three years was our honeymoon period. Then you settle into the relationship, and it morphs into just living, breathing. It becomes more comfortable, but it becomes a necessity — something you can’t give up, like an addict. How has it changed me? I basically have diarrhea mouth — I am brutally honest to the point of being a negative thing. Now I think more before I speak.

Even on that first date, we talked about kids. If he hadn’t wanted kids, I don’t think we’d be together. I always thought that family was the most important thing in life, and no matter what I do, whether being a chef or an actor or a dancer, being a dad is what I do best. I am the maternal one in the relationship. For the first year, I didn’t miss a nighttime or morning with them. I think it’s important to have other lives and feed your relationship, but it’s also important that your children are raised by you. We named Gideon after an artist we collect, Gideon Rubin, and Harper after Harper Lee. To Kill a Mockingbird is one of our favorite books.

I don’t want people to think we’re a perfect couple. Nothing’s perfect. A relationship is work and it changes. And you go with the changes. It’s more good times than bad times, but it’s not always good. You have to overcome those issues and move on. We have a really great recipe for a wonderful relationship, but we don’t want to be the poster boys for gay relationships. We’re not trying to pretend that we are perfect. We’re just trying — in a good, positive, loving way — to live our lives.

Source: aileen365

Will SOPA mean that my friends will no longer be able to repeatedly post pictures of their kids every other hour? Because then I *MIGHT* be into it.

About

I'm Neha and this is my blog.

My strengths include eating, making playlists, napping, making playlists while eating and thinking about napping and picking out produce.

I've been told I'd be terrible at customer service, but that's less about me being awkward and more about me being a bitch.

I promise I really am awkward though, just ask my imaginary friends.


Ask me anything

Ask