Alexis Winston Photography: July 2014

I am a sucker for tacky, cliché quotes and "words to live by." It becomes a problem when you have multiple journals filled from front to back cover with words that aren't your own. The way I spent my morning? Reading Mindy Kaling's book and hanging off of every hilarious, witty word she wrote. Some of which should be shared:

"One friend with whom you have a lot in common is better than three with whom you struggle to find things to talk about."

"I'm the kind of person who would rather get my hopes up really high and watch them get dashed to pieces than wisely keep my expectation at bay and hope they are exceeded. This quality has made me a needy and theatrical friend, but has given me a spectacularly dramatic emotional life."

"I don't think it should be socially acceptable for people to say they are "bad with names." No one is bad with names. That is not a real thing. Not knowing people's names isn't a neurological condition; it's a choice. You choose not to make learning people's names a priority. It's like saying, "Hey, a disclaimer about me: I'm rude."

"In real life, shouldn't a wedding be an awesome party you throw with your great pal, in the presence of a bunch of your other friends? A great day, for sure, but not the beginning and certainly not the end of your friendship with a person you can't wait to talk about gardening with for the next forty years."

My dear friends, Olenka and Seraphim are getting married tomorrow! Just a few months ago I took a Children's Literature course with Olenka. She shared Rosie & Michael with the class and said, "I want this to be read at my wedding!"

Olenka, I'm sad I can't attend the wedding tomorrow in California and celebrate this special day for you and Seraphim, but will be remembering the day you read Rosie & Michael aloud in class. You and Seraphim are the real life Rosie & Michael.

"Rosie is my friend. She likes me when I'm dopey and not just when I'm smart. I worry a lot about pythons, and she understands. My toes point in and my shoulders droop, and there's hair growing out of my ears. But Rosie says I look good. She is my friend.

Michael is my friend. He likes me when I'm grouchy and not just when I'm nice. I worry a lot about werewolves, and he understands. There's freckles growing all over me, except on my eyeballs and teeth. But Michael says I look good. He is my friend.

When my parakeet died, I called Rosie. When my bike got swiped, I called Rosie. When I cut my head and the blood came gushing out, as soon as the blood stopped gushing, I called Rosie. She is my friend.

When my dog ran away, I called Michael. When my bike got swiped, I called Michael. When I broke my wrist and the bone was sticking out, as soon as they stuck it back in, I called Michael. He is my friend.

It wouldn't matter if two billion people said she robbed a bank, if Rosie told me she didn't, I'd believe her.

Even though his fingerprints were found all over the dagger, if Michael said, "I'm innocent," I'd believe him.

If Rosie told me a secret and people hit me and bit me, I wouldn't tell what Rosie's secret was. And then if people twisted my arm and kicked me in the shins, I still wouldn't tell what Rosie's secret was. And then if people said, "Speak up, or we'll throw you in this quicksand," Rosie would forgive me for telling her secret.

If Michael told me a secret and people clonked me and bopped me, I wouldn't tell what Michael's secret was. And then if people bent back my fingers and wrestled me to the ground, I wouldn't tell what Michael's secret was. And then if people said, "Speak up, or we'll feed you to these piranhas," Michael would forgive me for telling his secret.

Just because I call her gorilla face, doesn't mean that Rosie's not my friend.

Just because I call him banana head, doesn't mean that Michael's not my friend.

Sometimes I get on the diving board and decide that I've changed my mind. But Rosie wouldn't laugh. She is my friend.

Sometimes I'm climbing up a tree and decide that I'd rather climb down. But Michael wouldn't laugh. He is my friend.

Rosie is my friend. When she honest and truly wanted to know if she walked like a kangaroo, I honestly told her.

Michael is my friend. When he honest and truly wanted to know if his feet were smelling stinky, I honestly told him.

Rosie would try to save me if there was a tidal wave. She'd hunt for me if kidnappers stole me away. And if I was never found again, she could have my Instamatic. She is my friend.

Michael would try to save me if a lion attacked. He'd catch me if I jumped from a burning house. And if by mistake he missed the catch, he could have my stamp collection. He is my friend.