An Open Letter to Rose Dawson

I have a bone to pick with you, Rose Dawson.

You swore you would never let go.  But you did.  You did let go.  And you let him die.

Listen, I’m sensitive to the cold.  I get it.  It was winter when the Titanic sunk.  The water at the time probably wasn’t conducive to an eternal death grip.

But, you should have saved his life.  He saved yours.  Multiple times, actually.

Yeah, remember that time you were impulsively hanging off the back of the ship, wallowing in self-pity, whining, “Oh my gahhh, my life is so hard, first class living is such a bore.  I hate nice things and being able to afford food and saphire necklaces.  I’m just going to end it now rather than spend the rest of my life living comfortably.”

When, at that moment you were contemplating your own death, the most handsome, third-class face on the planet waltzed up to you and convinced you to second guess your decision.

Remember this?!?!

 

Then after you decided you were actually being a little overdramatic about spontaneously offing yourself before really going through the pros and cons of it all, you slipped, and that gorgeous face saved your life AGAIN. With his hands.  His artistic, beautiful hands pulled your limp body up and over a three tier railing to safety.

REALLY. I MEAN, COME ON.

This was the same boy who showed you how to spit like a man and dance with the commoners.  He taught you that there was more to life than just being told what to do.  He gave you the confidence you needed to stand up to your family.  He made you realize that actually talking through your issues with people is a much better alternative to a poorly thought out, dramatic death.

I mean, for Pete’s sake, he even simulated flight without any sort of CGI effects. Just a ship and some wind was all he needed.  He was a goddamn magician.  And you let him die.

I think I speak for the masses here when I say that I wish you were more careful.  I wish you were more responsible.  I wish you weren’t so selfish.

You don’t let this face freeze. You just don’t.

See, if you had all those qualities I so generously listed above, you would have realized that that face is a one-in-a-million face.  You do not let faces like that pass you by.  Especially faces like that who have genuine hearts and are willing to save crazy teenage women from poor life-ending choices.

But you, Rose Dawson, you did let that face pass you by.  You let it pass you and sink right down into the bottom of the Atlantic.

This is where those qualities would have been beneficial to you and the boy whom you loved so much.  All you had to do was share.

At the very least, give the kid your life jacket.  It’s bad enough you’re starfishing on a double door, but you also have a PFD?  Like, share the wealth you hoarder.  No wonder Cal didn’t like you, you probably took up the entire bed, leaving him only with a smidgen of mattress and a corner of the covers.

If you love someone, you will save them from hypothermia.  That’s how it works.  It’s in the wedding vows. You know, “I, Rose, take you, Jack, to be waffley wedded husband, till death and/or sinking ship induced hypothermia do us part,” if you don’t know about that part, you probably weren’t a good listener in school either.  Which honestly, wouldn’t be surprising.

Bitch.

Not only were you a bystander in Jack Dawson’s death, but only after he sunk to the bottom of the ocean like the icicle brick he was did you go voluntarily get into the water to blow another man’s whistle to indicate you’d like to be rescued.

Riddle me this, Rose.  Why didn’t you get into the water, have Jack lay on the door for a while, and blow the whistle to save you both?  Really?  Do I have to think of everything around here?

A person as self-absorbed as yourself does not deserve someone as dignified and selfless as Jack Dawson.  I hope when you think of art, you remember his perfectly crafted features. I hope when you see a door, you’re reminded of the fact that it was big enough for two.  And when you put your children in swimming lessons, know that a life jacket could have saved him.

I hope you’re happy.

Sincerely,

Everyone Who Watched Titanic And Was In Love With Leonardo DiCaprio

***

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I Wanted A Pony, I Got A Lecture.

Watch out. Marlborough Man. There's a new chick in town.

Watch out. Marlborough Man. There’s a new chick in town.

Every year for my birthday I prayed that I would get a horse.  Instead, I got my cousin’s old sweaters and a lecture from my mother on being grateful for the things I already had.

A hand-me-down, by definition, is something that has been passed on from another person.  Most likely, you’ll refer to that old coat with holes in it that never kept you warm in the winter, or the pair of socks that went through three siblings before they made their way to your feet.

They are the sweaters your brother always wore that made him look so cool, or the high heels in your mother’s closet that your six-year-old feet prayed every night they would one day fit inside.

They are the items that the previous owner took care of enough to live a second or third life.  Like the house that’s been in your family for generations, or that weird glass duck your mom keeps on the mantle, and no one really knows where it came from.  But it has value.  So it’s passed down, kept, and maintained.

In an effort to avoid being completely literal, I want to talk about the hand-me-downs in our lives that are way less tangible, yet far more meaningful.

These are the attributes that have shaped you into the person you are today. It’s the ideals, beliefs, and quirks we learned from people in our lives that had an impact far greater than a birthday gift.  A hand-me-down isn’t just an object, it is something that makes you who you are.

It is your mannerisms; the ways you move, gestures you make.

It’s why you always twirl your hair because your older sister did it when she was talking to boys.  It’s the nervous ticks you inherited from your mother because she hates public speaking.  The way you always talk with your hands because your family always had to show rather than tell you what they were talking about.

It is your perception of color, and the way it can positively or negatively affect your life.

It’s the inheritance of racism, sexism, and the idea of inequality from previous generations.  Views that your parents, grandparents, and relatives had that were unfortunately passed down to you.  Or you might carry the legacy of acceptance, open mindness, and visions of equality.  Your mind is a sponge, and you know that skin color is no grounds for inferiority, and people are people, all of whom we can learn from.

It is your voice, and the way it carries you through life.

You’ll never be able to count how many times you’ve been asked why you don’t say your R’s, or how you got your lisp.  You’ll never be able to explain why you learned to say “draw” instead of “droor,” or “theeter” rather than “thee-a-ter.”  It’s because you were taught to hold your tongue and wait for others to speak, or why it’s your innate desire to blurt out your thoughts without thinking of the repercussions.

It is the lesson you learn from the past.

Whether it be a day, a week, a month, or years, there are people in our lives that have an impact.  It’s because of that time you fell in love too quickly, and from then on, refused to show all your cards from the start.  It’s the friends who made you laugh, realizing you need those more than ones who will bring you down.  It’s that man on the street who greets you every day, letting you know that the littlest bit goes the longest way.

It is your genetic make up.

Or the reason why you dealt with curly hair through puberty when all the pretty girls had straight. It’s why your thighs are thicker and your waist is smaller.  It’s why your face is longer and your nose is pointy, and the reason you can’t digest dairy or are prone to alcoholism.  It’s all the things that make up who you are, and remind you where you came from.

That weird glass duck will always be sitting on your mantle, and no one really knows where it came from.  But as human beings, we are all walking examples of what has been handed down to us.  We represent an amalgam of experiences, cultures, perceptions, and memories, all of which affect how we act on a day to day basis, for both the good and the bad.

And we will all eventually pass those things down.  Just remember that the next time you don’t say hi to that stranger on the street, or talk down to someone without thinking of the effect it will have, or go for the guy you think you can change when you’ve never been able to change one of them.


What hand me downs to you have?

Food Taught Me Everything I Ever Needed To Know About Life

You can learn a lot about a person by what they eat.  And no, I’m not saying you should stare at people while they’re eating, that’s rude.  Unless it’s a celebrity, then please report back because I NEED to know what Oprah eats for breakfast that makes her so powerful.

 

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This may come as a shock – or it won’t because you’ll realize that my brain works in strange ways, and this is just one of those things that makes me unique – but food has taught me everything I ever needed to know about life.

Real talk.

Sidenote: Let me start off by saying that if you looked in my cabinet where I store all my food, you’d probably think I had a child.  But alas, those are my groceries, I just eat like I’m seven.  So this is one of those times where I will make judgments about others, completely ignoring the fact that I have been all of these people at one time or another.

For starters, if you’re sitting on your couch in dirty sweatpants using a ladle to eat a pint of Ben and Jerry’s, I’m going to assume you’re going through a breakup. Or at the very least, a rough week.  When a spoon just isn’t big enough to satisfy your cravings for creamy delights to the point where you’re going to go straight for a ladle, among the Cherry Garcia remnants, you have heartbreak written all over your face.

And for you, I will pray.  Because no one can stop after one ladle scoop of B&Js.  It’s impossible.

When I see a twenty-something eating a steak with an older man or woman, it’s a safe bet that they are not paying for it.  You never eat the cheapest thing on the menu when your parents are footing the bill.  I’ll hit up Olive Garden and pay $9.99 for unlimited soup, salad, and breadsticks; but you best believe when I’m out with my parents I’m getting my fill of fine wine and filets.

If you can eat it in your pajamas, it’s not acceptable to feed a potential life partner.  Nothing says, “Hey baby, let’s get married!” like bagel bites with a side of Doritos.  You should learn to cook something substantial before you commit to someone for the rest of your life.

But when you’re drunk, it’s completely acceptable to throw all dietary restrictions and personal inhibitions out the window and go face deep into a pile of nachos and cinnastix.  A good rule of thumb is: if you don’t remember it, it never happened.

This is also a great indicator for how old someone is.  No one above thirty should be forgetting they ate forty-eight loaded tater tots and an entire Christmas ham the previous night due to alcohol.

I immediately know I need to tread lightly when I see someone eating a salad.  Especially men.  Woman have this extra chromosome where they can turn off their memories of delicious food and focus solely on bathing suit season.  It makes stomaching a salad almost mouth-watering.  Almost.

But the time a man voluntarily orders a cobb salad at a restaurant, don’t say anything mean to him within a five-foot-radius.  He is not choosing to eat that salad.  His doctor, his mother, or his girlfriend told him he needed to stop eating so many carbs and watch his cholesterol, and eating an entire head of iceberg lettuce is the only thing stopping him from shoveling a foot-long chicken parm sandwich down his throat.

When you’re around someone who is grumpy, they may need a snack.  That’s why I always like to keep a few granola bars in my purse.  You never know when a romantic stroll with your boyfriend will turn into the last moments of your life because you told him the restaurant was “like five minutes away” an hour ago.

Boys need to eat sixty-times more a day than women.  Granola bars save lives.

I also know you’re having a great time at your dinner date by the filter you’re using to instagram your food.  Anything less than a high contrast filter means your date sucks.  No one wants to see a poorly photographed, low resolution cheeseburger.  I want to see that thing oozing grease out of my phone.

If you don’t instagram a picture of your food, I assume you’ve either died, or are having a real, face-to-face conversation with the person who brought you out, and there may be hope for your love life after all.

 Also, if you like Taco Bell, KFC, and Pizza Hut, you may be my soul mate.  Inquire within. 

Cher Taught Me To Believe

Actually, no she didn’t.  But that song was straight fire flames good.  I bumped that jam in my room when I was in sixth grade for DAYS.

Whether or not she is a scholar in the same realm as Gandhi or Buddha, we will never know.  But her fashion sense was always on point.  Am I right?

I guess it’s different for everyone.  Whether it is a person, a dream, a faith, or a promise.  We all need a reason to believe.

I could sit here and talk about what I believe and how it has shaped me into the person I am today.  But I don’t want to preach about my life, but just about the importance of believing in something.

First and foremost, you should believe in yourself.  

If you don’t have a foundation of self-acceptance and the innate conviction that you can achieve anything you set your mind to, then life is going to be pretty difficult.  Let’s be realistic though, this is not to say that it won’t be tough even if you do believe in yourself.  Because life is funny that way, and it likes to knock you down a couple pegs and make sure you’re not overconfident.

Life is full of uphill battles.  And while some are given a compass and a map to ease the struggle, others have to navigate blind, fighting more battles for no reason at all.

Regardless of where you fall on the life circumstance spectrum, having confidence yourself and what you can achieve is the first step towards getting where you want to go.  The rest is motivation, commitment, and perseverance – all of which take time to develop.

We all should wake up in the morning committed to something. 

If you can’t find it in your heart to believe in yourself, for the sake of humanity, believe in someone else.  There is nothing more frightening than knowing you are fighting a battle alone.  The greatest thing you can offer another human being is support.

When the outlook is bleak, the odds are stacked up, and the morale is fading; believe.  People can triumph and overcome the biggest of hurdles when they have a support system behind them.  Having a team rally and cheer you on makes those mountains that once seemed miles high get reduced to inches.

Believing in one another makes any obstacle surmountable. 

Faith in a higher power gives us a foundation and a basis to strive to be the best people we can be.  It is fundamentally rooted in serving others before yourself, knowing that you can make a difference in someone’s life, and them in yours.

It is understanding the key principle that all people are equal, believing that it’s true, and using your actions as a way to show it.  Because let’s face it, living our lives for other people isn’t the easiest thing to do.  In fact, it’s pretty difficult.

But in times when you feel incapable of continuing, grasping for something outside of yourself can be just what you need to keep going. 

If faith isn’t your answer, it can be a dream.

An aspiration to be better than what you are and where you are now.  An endpoint that you strive to reach in your career, your relationships, and your life.  Something that, in the darkest places, hardest times, deepest holes, you cling to and reach for.  And it’s that dream that helps you power through the worst of it.

All because you believe that you deserve it.

Whatever it is, don’t let it go.  Depending on something or someone other than ourselves is imperative.  We were not meant to walk the earth alone, nor should be have to do it. Make that conscious decision each day to strive to be better for you, for someone else, or for something.

Don’t settle for what you have right now, there’s always room to improve.  Find something you want in the future and go for it.  Perseverance and determination are attributes that no one will ever fault you for having.  You can be, achieve, and complete anything you want.  You just have to figure out what it is.

And when you do find what it is, be like Cher and just believe.

 

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What’s Up With That Wednesday

I like to eat.

This was most evident when I came back from studying abroad in Dublin circa 2009.  My mother was waiting for me at the ‘Arrivals’ section of the airport, and after five months of separation, the first thing she said to me was, “Wow, you look different.”

And it wasn’t the good different.  It was the twenty pounds heavier complete with a fat face and borderline emerging cankles different.

Being overseas for five months really expanded my horizons with food.  My newly expanded waistline and bloated face were concrete evidence. But as much as I learned to love food and experiment, there were some things I could not wrap my head around.

Spicy food.  One time I went to get wings with my friend Shannon.  She tried some from the “extremely hot” column.  Next thing you know, I look over and she’s got sweat coming out of her ears. HER EARS.  I’ve never been in a situation where ear sweat is not only acceptable but you voluntarily eat something that causes it.

Seriously… What the hell is up with food so hot that it could burn off your face?

Ghost Peppers:

I tend to avoid ghosts at all costs.  Especially in my food.  I don’t want to eat something that is invisible until I bite into it and all the sudden my mouth is engulfed in an inferno that only milk can control.  I’m lactose intolerant, milk don’t work for me.

Jalapeno Vodka:

I accept this.  But I only accept it in a bloody mary.  Otherwise, let’s stick with Stoli Orange and club soda.  It’s citrus sophisticated.

Habanero Pepper:

Yeah. HabanerNO.  I want nothing to do with you.  It’s not personal, only it is.  It is personal.  I can’t be eating something for dinner that will make me cry.  I’m already a woman, I don’t need another reason to shed tears in public.

Suicide Chicken Wings:

I don’t think I ever want to be put in a situation where I would want to kill myself over a chicken wing.  It just seems wrong.  I like to enjoy my wings, maybe have some beer, watch pretend to watch sports but really be scouting all the hot men at the bar.  I don’t want a fatal chicken appendage to come between me and a good man hunt.

I’m sweating just thinking about all of these.  I’m gonna go put an icepack on my forehead and stand in a freezer.

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Did I miss any?

Teach Me How To Do… Anything.

Some people just have it all.  They’re gifted with athleticism, gorgeous flowing hair, the ability to eat a thousand bags of cool ranch Doritos and not gain a pound.  The “have it alls” are naturally beautiful, conversationally gifted, and can generally stop drinking after one glass of wine.

Then there is me.

On a good day, which is usually a Thursday, I snooze three times before getting out of bed, realize I don’t want to there is not enough time to shower, and opt for a headband to conceal the collection of greasy follicles on my head.

Make up is a struggle.  Picking an outfit is a war.

Despite the fact that I’ve made several resolutions to be more polished and put together, I can’t seem to get my body on board by taking sleep off the top of my priority list.

Basically, I’m a hot mess and I can’t do anything correctly due to the fact that sleep dominates my life and I was given the short end of the stick in the talent department.

Given the opportunity, or a new body that miraculously is good at stuff, I would like to know how to do the following:

Cooking:

It’s no secret that I am the worst chef on the planet.  You ask me to make you toast, I’ll give you a plate full of bready ashes and a glob of jelly on the side.  I just don’t know how to do it.  My idea of a fully cooked dinner is a bag full of microwaved steamed broccoli and a side of 90-second rice.  I like microwaves because you don’t touch anything, and at the end of three minutes, your meal is hot and you didn’t ruin anyone’s day.

Construction:

If I have to look at another piece of IKEA furniture and try to assemble it based on picture directions, heads will roll. There are always four extra pegs and a structure that, to me, looks sound, but once I place an item of more than a pound on it, the whole thing will come crashing terribly to the floor.  I can’t build anything.  Except bears, I can totally build a bear.

Anything involving cars:

I bring in my car for a routine checkup and the mechanic tells me I have a four-foot-long boa constrictor in my engine and a nest of African rats in my trunk.  Seems reasonable, so yes, I’d love to pay $800 for you to alleviate that problem, Mr. Mechanic.  It would be nice to know that it isn’t possible for my gas tank to be under the hood of my car, or the general location of my spare tire.

Navigation:

If I text you and tell you I’m five minutes away, multiply it by four because I will be lost in thirty seconds.  I cannot, for the life of me, navigate to and from a location in one successful attempt.  Sure, you may think to yourself, “Why doesn’t this chick just buy a GPS?” And to you I say, thank you, but even GPS are not immune to my idiocy, and I have no idea how far three-hundred feet is, so now seems like a good time to make a right.

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Yeah.. um, let’s just take a left.

I Should Probably Lower My Expectations…

One time I was super excited to meet up with this kid from Tinder (hint #1 this didn’t go as planned).  Then when I showed up he was already at the bar on his second drink (hint #2).  I recognize his face and immediately realize that I am taller than him sitting down (hint #3).

He proceeded to spend the entire date talking about himself while intermittently sprinkling in hints about how women should learn to cook before anything else.

I told him I can’t even make toast without setting off my smoke alarm, went to the bathroom and never returned.  Needless to say, it didn’t go as planned, and it definitely didn’t work out.

Much like this clip featuring my husband, Joey GorLevs, life is chock full of moments like being excited for a date and not having it turn out the way you wanted.

But regardless of how important our day-to-day adventures may or may not be, we place an expectation on how they should go down, and unfortunately, the reality doesn’t always match up.

College Dorm Rooms

Expectation: If you’re like me and constantly relive your glory years by watching teen dramas like The CW’s Vampire Diaries and ABC Family’s Greek, you went in to college with the expectation that you were going to be living in a gorgeous, Pottery Barn inspired, pre-decorated master suite, complete with a queen sized bed, a bay window, and a roommate you totally got along with in all aspects of life.

Reality: You and your random roommate who happens to collect erasers and used buttons get to decorate your spacious, cement wall insulated 10×12 dorm room complete with single beds and old prison mattresses.  Don’t go too crazy!

Lean Cuisines

Expectation: That food photographer is straight out of the Annie Leibovitz Picture Academy. Making my broccoli and chicken bake meal practically jump off the box and into my mouth.  The cheesey goodness of my four-cheese pasta is making me salivate at the sight of it, almost leading me to commandeer the nearest microwave and use it on the spot.

Reality: This so called “meal” is barely a serving size and the broccoli is soggy.  There are two cubes of chicken and I can only taste one cheese in my four-cheese pasta.  It all tastes like disappointment and I’m walking, no calling for delivery from the nearest Dominos.

Birthdays

Expectation: It’s my birthday and I’ll cry if I want to! Everyone is here to celebrate ME, ME, ME, ME!  The guy I have a crush on is totally going to walk in, catch my eyeball, music will play as he waltzes towards me and we make out on the dance floor like the scene of a movie while all my friends clap behind me and rally in support of my birthday conquest.

Reality:  It’s 1030pm, you haven’t left your apartment because you’re too drunk.  You’re crying to your best friends because your left shoe doesn’t fit on your right foot and ultimately settling for chinese delivery and sleeping in your birthday dress.

 

 

The Common White Girl’s Guide to Risk Taking

I’m a common white girl, and this is my idea of risky behavior:

  • Ordering a double shot mocha latte with whole milk and giving them my porn star name to label my cup
  • Opening my sunroof when it’s below 50 degrees
  • Wearing white afterlabor day
  • Ordering a carb-filled meal at a restaurant when I’m on a diet
  • Not brushing my hair
  • Double dipping
  • Wearing glasses without a prescription
  • Photobombing
  • Eating more than the recommended serving size
  • Sneaking past security at a concert
  • Dating an older man
  • Wearing white to a wedding
  • Sharing a cup with someone else
  • Calling my dad to ask how he is with the real intention of asking for money
  • Only rinsing my hands with water and telling my mom I used soap
  • Sending the Netflix dvds back a week late
  • Letting my gas tank get below a quarter of a tank
  • Wearing mismatching patterns… on purpose
  • Drinking beer before liquor
  • Eating the entire footlong meatball sub and demanding to still be considered a lady
  • Pretending I know about politics
  • Smoking a cigarette, or eight
  • Lying about my age26660_10151252365162559_1982910512_n
  • Lying about my weight
  • Lying about my ethnicity
  • Lying about my accent
  • Lying about everything
  • Leaving my room a mess when I know I have company coming over later
  • Taking a shower and not moisturizing after
  • Day drinking on a Wednesday
  • Leaving a bar tab open
  • Making racially insensitive jokes under my breath
  • Drinking a bottle of wine and getting all active on social media
  • Posting more than one picture a day on Instagram
  • Calling my parents and telling them I’m pregnant
  • Calling my parents and telling them I’ve been arrested
  • Calling my parents and telling them I’m getting married
  • Calling my parents and then hanging up
  • Getting drunk and texting everyone in my phone I shouldn’t be texting
  • Taking an aggressive amount of no filter duckface selfies
  • Sending a hundred snapchats to everyone I have a crush on
  • Changing my email signature at work from Office Coordinator to Tupperware Patrol
  • Wearing glasses and no makeup to work
  • Spending my lunch hour googling pictures of male celebrities in suits
  • Daydreaming about all the times P Diddy has changed his name
  • Doubling down on servings during Bagel Friday
  • Not confessing to all my sins at church
  • Swimming directly after I eat lunch

Sixteen Things I Wish I Knew When I Was Sixteen

110_1005991425174_1486_nI’m going to let you in on a few secrets.  It might make your life a little easier.

But I also know you don’t listen, so this will probably fall on deaf ears.

Right now, you’re in a bubble.  You are comfortable. You’ve been in the same place for your entire life.  But there are things you need to know.  It’s important to understand that when you grow up, your perspectives on things change.

You’re going to be mature as hell.

So stop spending so much time worrying about what other people think of you.  High school is only temporary, and you’re only going to keep in touch with about seven people after you graduate.  These four years of your life are nothing compared to the time you’re going to spend after college with new friends who are with you through the actual hard stuff.

You should still take care of your appearance.  No one looks put together when they come to school wearing their brother’s sweatpants.  Waking up ten minutes before you have to leave is only acceptable if you’re an infant and can’t set an alarm clock.

Put on some jeans and some mascara and look like you actually care about being alive. Dead people kind of tend to emit this “don’t come near me” radar, and it’s pretty powerful.

Don’t drive like an idiot.  But also don’t drive like a senior citizen.  Find a balance somewhere between a glacial pace and road rage and get comfortable.  Always use your turn signals, and never call it a traffic circle.  It’s a rotary.

Eat whatever you want.  Just stop when you’re full.  Moderation is the only way to keep yourself sane.

People go apeshit when they stop eating chocolate.  And no, eating six mini-Kit Kats does not equal eating one regular sized Kit Kat.  Candy math is not a valid reason for overindulgence.

Please stop complaining about how hard your life is.  It’s difficult to take you seriously when you drive a Jeep Wrangler and have an inground swimming pool.  Get a job.

Slap yourself in the face whenever you use the term ‘literally’ and you’re not talking about something that is actually going on in that precise moment.  Do not say you are literally going insane, unless you want to be committed to a mental institution.  This will save you from looking stupid.

Stop saying ‘like’.  It’s really annoying and it makes you sound like Cher from Clueless, except, Paul Rudd will not like you.

Organized dances are overrated.  Spend less money on your prom dress and more money on making sure your hair doesn’t look like an afro.  Highlights are encouraged; a straightener is required.

Start to take more emotional risks.  Closing yourself off will only leave you feeling left out when everyone else has found someone to share their lives with. Figure out what you want and go for it.  Not everything is handed to you.

Rejection only hurts a little.  And wine is the cure for all sorts of emotional bruises.

Save your money.  You will eventually want to move out.  You will not want to bring your poster of The Jonas Brothers to your first apartment.  Buy some art.  And maybe a comforter that doesn’t scream, “I threw up pink.”

Stop being rude to your mother.  Understand that she’s been where you are and is just trying to help.  She also is completely justified to ground you when you sneak out, drink underage, come home late, or don’t call.  Avoid all this by communicating with her.  It will be so much easier.

Your father is pretty cool.  Sit down and talk to him; he will make you laugh.  A lot of your weird tendencies and comedic attributes come from him anyways. You don’t spend enough time with him, and you will regret that.

You might dislike your brothers.  Sorry to say it, but you will still get pissed off at them later in life.  They are boys. They do not think.  Stop holding grudges and get over it.  You’re stuck with them forever, may as well make the best of it.  (Sidenote: you will end up being good friends, just wait it out.)

Don’t take life too seriously.  You’re not here for very long.

For what it’s worth, you turned out okay.  You grew up, you moved out, and made your life interesting.

I’m Too Sexy for This Shirt

You heard me.  I’m just too sexy for it.

Actually, this shirt is too sexy for me.

Have a hangover?  Slap on this vintage, limited edition XXL 2002 Jingle Ball long sleeve shirt and perk your brain right up.  No headaches, just happiness.

Feeling downtrodden?  Not with this fabulous fabric chest piece complete with an intertwined embrace featuring none other than pop superstars, Destiny’s Child.

Don’t have a fashion sense?  Not a problem, because Avril Lavigne is on the back sporting polarized yellow aviators, so you know you’re not the worst looking one in the room.

Forgot about Ja Rule?  Never again, because he’s featured on the front AND the back of this majestic poly-fiber blended shirt.

Want to land a hot date?  Just make sure that Nelly is visible and no one can deny you when you ask, “You want to take a ride with me?”  It’s just science.

Feeling nostalgic? You’re in luck because Justin Timberlake and his frosted tips make an appearance. Never miss out on your 90’s memories again!

Can’t get this shirt out of your head?  Neither can Kylie Minogue!  Turns out, this shirt was the inspiration for that annoying hit song.  You’re welcome, world!

*** No, this is not for sale.  Unless you want to buy it.  Have your people call my people. 

Untitled

meg lago’s hangover face.