Nora's Archive

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Name: Nora
Alias: Nora Borealis
You can spot me by my: blonde hair, pale skin, red lips, matching bike, and uniform of oversized Breton stripe tops with straight-leg jeans.

I like to be busy; overly busy, if I can be. I’m happiest when I have too many places to be and not enough time to do everything, so I’m committed to a life where a typical week includes a delightfully unpredictable...
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Recently, and for the first time in my life, I heard myself referred as a “strong person.” I guess they were referring to the fact that I haven’t had a total nervous breakdown, but those people haven’t seen me run into a spider in our basement or watch our dog nearly kill a rabbit in the backyard. But here’s the thing about strength: you don’t know you have it until you have no choice...
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Aside from my occasional bouts of hippie fever, I’m entirely conventional in many ways, the least fortunate being that I’ve spent a good portion of my life turning my dissatisfaction over my body into a science. At any given point in my life, I could answer “what would you change about your body?” with a detailed wish list of ways my body had disappointed me.

Most of the noise of that...
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I’ve been wrong a time or two in my life. Before this past weekend, the most notable of these occasions was during a 6th grade science quiz when I labeled part of the brain as the “cervix” and then argued about it with my teacher. Mrs. Vance, in case you're reading this, I acknowledge that you were actually right. But in my defense, cervix and cortex are really similar words.

My most...
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...or, Your Good Manners Will Make Me Automatically Like You (or at least, tolerate being around you)

In every way, the guy I married is a shining example of patience. And in every way, I am exactly the opposite. Things that barely make him blink make me curmudgeonly and cranky and out of sorts like a tall, blond Andy Rooney.

And one of those things that really gets my 'Rooney' going is bad...
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You know what the most overused word in my vocabulary is? “Um”, followed closely by “like.” But removing those conversational crutches that keep me from stuttering or freezing like a deer in headlights when speaking in front of other humans, “Sorry” is the the word I’m most likely to wear out.

Not because I’m perpetually wrong (I’ve been wrong maybe three or four times in my...
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Most of my writing here on ChickAdvisor centers on self-improvement. I’m a believer in year-round resolutions and the continual evolution of my personal brand (it’s Fancy Tomboy, if you were wondering). A few months back I got really hardcore about cutting back on my belongings. Specifically, I vowed not to shop for clothing until I had worn, donated or pitched every single article in my...
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A while ago, I wrote a little ditty about how much I love surprises. Because the Universe doesn’t differentiate the intricacies of the English language, it took me literally and delivered me a surprise that can only be described as one doozy of a humdinger.

No, not a baby left on my doorstep. Not a puppy in a basket. Not a long-lost twin that my parents had been hiding from me. Not even a...
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When I get into something, I get really into something, whether it’s hours of my childhood spent rollerblading around the lakes or watching three seasons of Breaking Bad in two weeks. And I’m bringing the same tenacity to my occupancy of my boyfriend’s house.

Since July, I’ve been collecting paint chips and building up my Pinterest boards with ideas that could transform this starter house...
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I've had a total of 12 addresses over the past 10 years. Maybe 13... you kind of lose count when you get into double digits. I'm not an outlaw, I've just spent my college and post-grad years in a nomadic haze, with my meager belongings in a constant state of flux between a pilfered grocery store box and an overcrowded closet.

Now I'm staking claim to a plot of land in my hometown,...
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