humor

Had A Crappy Week? Here’s How to Feel Better.

#mylife

Everyone has those days that result in a volcanic eruption because you’ve spent the better half of the week or month suppressing your emotions. It all just happens to unravel at that very inopportune moment when you go to grab that KitKat you’ve wanted all day, but your hand comes back with nothing because no one wanted to throw the empty bag in the trash.

It may look like you’re just really upset that you can’t have your post-lunch treat you’ve dreamed about all morning, but in reality, it was just the last in a long line of emotional floodgates that had to open sometime or another.

If you’re like me, you don’t display your emotions. I pride myself on being able to mask a lot of what I’m feeling through the work day, and once I cross the threshold of my basement apartment, I go full blown dramatic actress in a death scene on Broadway.

Tears are streaming from places I didn’t know tears could stream, I’m thinking that curling up in the fetal position on the entryway floor is both comfortable and reasonable even though my bed is three feet away.

I’m a hot goddamn mess.

Other people can wear their emotions on their sleeve, with integrity. I can immediately tell when someone is an emotionally balanced human because he or she is able to accept mood swings as a natural part of living and know that people aren’t happy 100% of the time.

I guess I grew up differently.

My mother would argue that I am dramatic. But realistically, I have outbursts full of emotion because most of the time I suppress what I’m actually feeling. I don’t ever speak out about things until they have built up, boiled over, and reared their ugly head inside my mind to the point where I need to bitch, complain, yell, or freak out about it until someone listens and validates my emotional state.

I realize this is unhealthy, but when it’s been a certain way for twenty years, it’s hard to consciously make changes. I’m working on it. Maybe.

I have triggers for when I know I’m getting close to an emotional explosion. It allows me to assess what I’m feeling and then take the appropriate measures to immediately store it in my feeling chest until I can’t possibly squish another one in there.

And then I accept the emotional overload.

For starters, I always assume it’s because I’m due for a cry. I take out my personal calendar, go back page by page, and try and remember the last time I shed a tear. If it’s a sizeable amount of time, I take it as my cue to stay in on a Friday, pop in Marley and Me or A Walk to Remember, ball my eyeballs out, and be good to go for Saturday night.

Never underestimate the power of using a q-tip. If you’re feeling crappy, take a shower, get a q-tip for each ear and go to town. Cleaning the wax build up out of your ears after a hot shower will not only make you feel better, it will make you realize you’ve been listening to your television on a concert-level decibel which will also make your roommates happy they don’t have to listen to the George Lopez show with you until 2am anymore.

If your car has any gas in its tank, take it for a good ole mindless drive. Make sure you have a playlist on deck that transports you back to the happiest time of your life, which for me was the Medieval Times field trip in 7th grade when we played truth or dare in the back of the bus and I got to kiss my crush in the coach bus bathroom (BIG DREAMS, WHATUP?!).

Though unpopular, exercising is an awesome way to reduce stress and deal with problems. You never realize how much crap is weighing on your mind until you set out for a three mile jog and you end up running for six miles and then finish your workout at a boxing class. Just kidding, only crazy people do that (What? Who am I?). But seriously, go for a run, a walk, or a hike and just think. It’s amazing what some exercise and fresh air will do for your mind.

On the complete opposite side of the health and fitness spectrum, I have found that dabbling in gluttony soothes the soul like a stick of butter on a pancake. When having a bad day, there are few things more relaxing than sitting in your bed, sweatpants up to your boobs (allowing room for expansion, of course) holding a tub of Ben and Jerrys in your right hand and a bottle of Cabernet in your left. Wine and dairy don’t seem to go together, but after the fourth glass, you can’t really tell what anything tastes like anyways, so eat up, boozebag.

We all have weeks where we want to tear our hair out and poke other people in the eyeballs so they can feel our pain. My advice to you is to not do that, because a hefty lawsuit and being fired from your job are far worse than admitting you enjoy crying when you watch Bambi or you thought about punching Kristen Stewart during your boxing class.

Trust me, these things work.

Fool Me Once, Shame On You!

I’m going to say it; there’s a lot of trickery going on in the world right now.

I’ll be the first to say I’m not discrete. I think wearing sunglasses allows me to stare at people without being noticed. It does not. Maybe when I turn thirty that will finally sink in.

Until then, please ignore my piercing stare through my slighting tinted lenses when you’re walking to work – I’m just harmlessly judging you. No cause for alarm.

I like to believe I have a keen eye when it comes to being able to determine what is real and what is fake. I am also one point upgrade in my prescription from being deemed legally blind, so maybe having a keen eye doesn’t really factor into my picture at all.

I’m not going as far as saying I’m gullible, but I guess I’m just prone to deception.

It’s easy to fall victim to every day impostors. But with a few double takes, a good google search, and a question everything personality, you can find out that things aren’t really what they seem.

Tinder (and every other dating app that is solely based on physical appearance):

Ever get matched up with a guy or girl and you’re hitting it off? Witty banter all the time. Can’t wait til he or she messages me back. This is great! His picture is awesome, his name is Kale and he’s a vegan. He’s got board shorts and a tuxedo tshirt on in every picture, looks like my type of man! Is that a fedora? Sign me up. When you finally agree to meet up with this technological man of mystery, you’re expecting tall, dark, and handsome Mr. Rico Suave in his Hawaiian tourist attire to be seated at the restaurant awaiting your arrival. Until you show up and it’s a 5 foot 2 kid named Kaleb and he’s already eaten a seaweed salad because you were five minutes late and he’s a stickler for time management. He was only tan because that picture was taken on spring break and he was standing on a rock wall so he looked taller than his friends.

You’ve been duped.

Sales:

You’re walking down the cereal aisle of the grocery store and you see a two-for-one deal on Frosted Flakes. Do you need two boxes of overly-sugared breakfast treats? No. But sale items make you think you’re getting a better deal, when you’re really just getting fatter. I hate you, sales. I hate you with a fire of a thousand suns. I go into the store thinking I need one avocado and a bag of chips and I walk out with four sweet potatoes, a Native American, and a Thanksgiving turkey in July because it was a festive presale. I didn’t even have a coupon either!

Food Photography:

I think food is becoming a trend in my life. We’ll get to that another time. There is nothing I love more than a lean cuisine. I pick things specifically because of how the food looks on the box. If I see broccoli practically jumping off the cardboard and into my mouth, I’m going to double down on those bad boys and take them home. When I open the box and in the container is a sad, congealed cheesy mess of a meal, I have immediate food remorse. The picture never adequately displays how the food looks. It’s like going on a first date with make up and showing up the second time around barefaced and hungover. Just not pretty.

I realized I just equated eating a grocery store frozen meal to dating. This is why I am single.

Baby Carrots:

This one hurt the most. I recently found out that baby carrots are just shaved down big carrots. How insane is that? That must be the only thing on the planet where the full sized version isn’t good enough to the point where they have to make a mini version of it to sell better. Just trust your parents, kids, vegetables are good for you! Wait, is that why pygmy goats exist? Can someone get me a confirmation on that?

Craigslist:

You’re in the market for a new apartment. You’re scouring the internet for a deal, and you come across this unbelieveable find. Why is it still listed? This can’t be real life! The pictures look great, immaculate construction, clean, wood floors, and nicely decorated. Until you show up and it’s a revamped bomb shelter from World War two and your room has three walls that consist of deluxe paper towel sheets and chicken wire. Cozy!

SitComs:

Laugh tracks aren’t really people laughing at the jokes. They are essentially telling the viewer when to laugh. So does that mean sitcoms aren’t funny? I don’t even know anymore. I’m brainwashed by television and I’m not afraid to admit it.

…

Like I said, folks. The world is full of trickery. Keep your head on a swivel. Keep your eyes on the prize.

I’m going to go investigate whether or not I actually have a lactose allergy or if my mom was just saying that to me so I wouldn’t eat ice cream. I wouldn’t be surprised. I’d plow through a carton of mint choco chip when I was a kid; she may have just been doing me a service.

What’s Up With That Wednesday?

Featuring: Silverware in the dishwasher!

I feel you, bro! #deathbydishwasher

What’s up with people sticking forks and knives pointy side up in the silverware cleaner? Really though. Do you want me to get stabbed?

Maybe I was raised in a forks down household, I don’t know. But the idea of someone purposefully putting a fork prongs up really grinds my gears. What do you do with scissors? Do those just go blades up, too?

No. They don’t. Because it’s dangerous.

You wouldn’t put a capless pen ball point to the sky in your collection, so why treat your silverware differently? No one wants to empty the dishwasher and get stabbed, just like no one wants to go for a writing implement and get ink daggered.

I’d really love to find out why people do prongs up. If anyone has any intel into the cerebral cortex of an upforker, please let me know.

It’s very important. Maybe even more important than meeting Leo DeCaps, I’m just not sure yet.

No, nevermind, nothing is more important than Leo DeCaps.

Now excuse me while I go manually flip over all the utensil shanks in my dishwasher. I swear people are trying to kill me, they’re just not being subtle enough. I see you, people. You’re not going to get rid of me that fast.

March Madness: How to Stay Sane for the Next Month

If you don’t know anything about basketball, that sucks for you because you’re going to surrounded by it for the next couple of weeks. It will haunt your dreams, your social life will revolve around it, and you will see normally sane people spiral into a complete and utter mental state to the point where you may actually have to commit them to an asylum.

But there’s good news! You don’t have to sit and be miserable for the next three weeks, because even you, non-sports liking human, can have fun with March Madness. Because like it or not, basketball is going to be broadcasted nationwide on every television in every restaurant and apartment, so you may as well get used to it.

Here are some survival tips for anyone who doesn’t want to actually go mad this March:

(yes, I know, my puns are some next level stuff, BACK OFF)

Even if you know nothing about basketball, fill out a bracket. It will give you someone to root for each game, and you’ll get the satisfaction of picking a winning team and rubbing it in that kid’s face who tracks college players from birth til graduation when his bracket sucks more than yours does.
Use this as an excuse to hang out with a kid you have a crush on. Have that hot kid you like help you fill out a bracket, maybe meet up with him at a bar for some beers. All you have to do is cheer when lots of people cheer, and boo when people boo. Look excited. Take a shot. Ask a question. Wait refrain from asking questions, boys hate explaining things to girls. Actually, just show up and have a good time, it’s not that difficult.
Make up a drinking game. Shot for shot, literally.
Use this to determine whether or not your potential life-long partner is insane. The great news about March Madness is that you get to see people in their primal state. Winning and losing brackets reduce human beings to their cores. There is no better time than now to rule out potential crazies. If he knocks over a lamp, kicks through a door, or threatens to punch a baby due to a loss, there’s a good chance he won’t do the dishes or take out the trash after a tiff later in life.
Read a book. If you don’t like sports, that is not a problem. How about expanding your vocabulary with a good book? Think about all the new words and phrases you’ll pick up because your significant other is hogging the television. You’re pretty much guaranteed to surpass him or her in intelligence, so why not start now? You’ll be the most sophisticated insulter this side of the Mississippi. Or that side. Depending where you live.
Go work out. If you’re stressed out because you’re missing this week’s episode of Pretty Little Liars, have no fear, the gym has televisions and treadmills. Kill two birds with one stone by running out your aggression and simultaneously still wondering why in the hell these four girls are still getting tormented and no one is doing anything about it. It is shocking. Really.
Suck it up. If you’re a problem solver, or a generally easy going human being, you’ll realize that this is a time of the year that isn’t going away. Much like football season, baseball season, and hockey season, the playoffs create a cutthroat atmosphere and you can either adapt or die. If you’re going to get pissed off and mope because you can’t watch the finale of Cupcake Wars, you have bigger fish to fry. Invest in DVR, sit down with a drink, and make a sacrifice like guys do when you make them go shopping or eat vegetarian options for a week.

The Girls’ Guide to Packing for a Trip

We the people women, in order to enjoy the most perfect excursion, establish justice, make good fashion choices, ensure domestic tranquility, peace of mind, and provide sanity of our peers, must follow the following set of rules when determining which outfits to bring forth on said trip:

Article 1: Overpack

Are you going away for a night, two days, tops? You should most definitely put enough outfits for a week long excursion through Europe. A general rule of thumb: if you have too many outfits in your suitcase, you don’t have enough outfits in your suitcase.

Article 2: Bring Things You Never Intend To Wear

For example, if you plan on going skiing, it’s a good idea to pack a Hula skirt. As women, we tend to fantasize that our decorative costume attire will somehow serve a purpose on our future vacation trips. That, or we like to think that our drunk purchase of a $88 genuine, handcrafted, bamboo hula skirt freshly made by a nice Caribbean man named Peter during Spring Break ’09 wasn’t a complete and total waste of money.

Article 3: Always Pack A Bathing Suit

Point blank, you just never know when there will be a hot tub or an indoor pool. You do not want to be that girl who has to wear some boy’s boxers and the sports bra you brought for sleeping because you were too lazy to stuff two small pieces of fabric into your underwear pocket.

Article 4: Forget Something Important

Toothbrush. Tampons. Make Up. Anything that requires an annoying, necessary, extra trip after an extensive journey is encouraged. You will spend so much time planning your attire for the exterior of your body, you’ll completely forget that you need to adhere to that mondo pimple conveniently located on your forehead, or making sure you’ve supplied yourself with an instrument to ensure your breath doesn’t smell like taquitos and Cabernet each morning.

Article 5: Rely On Friends For Outfit Adjustments

You’ve packed an entire suitcase, but the second everyone does the, “3, 2, 1, UNZIP!” suitcase challenge, it’s a mad dash wardrobe buffet. You brought your favorite outfits, heels that make your legs look awesome, and the dress that makes you look so hot even on a fat day. Yet, you are going to throw all that into the wind and contemplate thoroughly about the kind of lubricant involved in order to fit into your best friend’s size two pants even though you haven’t been that small since sixth grade.

Article 6: Don’t Skimp on Hair Products

If there is one thing that is certain, that is that you don’t know how your hair will react outside its element. You may have a shower sent straight from Jesus himself, but that means nothing when it comes to your hair being outside its natural habitat. Go to CVS, stock up on all the travel bottles and sprays you can fit into that annoying clear plastic bag, and be prepared. There will always be pictures, and frizz looks good on nobody, not even Beyonce.

Article 7: Conveniently Avoid Looking at the Weather

You could be attending your best friends wedding in South Carolina in May. Instinctively, you will equate below the Mason Dixon line with warmth, you will pack accordingly, and get off the plan with shorts and tshirt and a slap in the face from 45 degrees. Please refer to Article 4 where you will forget something important, ie: a jacket, sweatshirt, or your general ability to use a computer and navigate the internet to determine the temperature of your destination.

On March 19, 2014, The Coalition of Women in the World hereby decree that said rules constitute the process of packing for a trip. Failure to comply with the above stated rules and regulations will result in the fact that you are either a male, a mother, or a generally organized human being.

I’ve been here a few minutes too long.

Do you ever get that uncomfortable feeling that creeps up on you at the worst time? Maybe that one that shows up after you’ve been having a blast, making fast friends, and then all the sudden you realize you one of three people left at a friend-of-a-friend’s house and the friend that brought you has disappeared into thin air?

Yeah, it’s that well known feeling of shock, horror, and awkward turtles letting you know that you are lingering. You’ve just been there too long.

We’ve all done it. I’ve had my fair share of overstays, not taking hints, and utter annoyances. It’s a natural progression from being completely oblivious to social cues to blossoming into the world of knowing when to utilize a timely exit.

But for some, this realization never comes to fruition, so we are left with the human crumbs of a once delightful friend cake. The remnants that hang around too long, are hard to get to leave, and ultimately, end up ruining a perfectly good dinner date.

Are you that guy or girl that likes to greet friends and relatives with a warm embrace? If so, good for you! I’m all for a handshake to hug combination when it comes to people I haven’t seen in a while. But for the love of Rudolph at a clown convention, don’t hug me for more than fifteen seconds. Chin to shoulders, maybe a pat on the back and a, “Nice to see ya, bucko!” and let’s just move on.

If that’s not enough to make you uncomfortable, let’s bring up that person at the party who tells jokes that no one understands. I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t quite understand why you’re equating your wife with professional cow tipping. But I’m going to fake laugh anyways and try and change the subject to something we can all relate to, like stickers, puppies, and wine.

Oh yeah, and screw you, hangover, you sneaky son of a bitch. If I wanted pain of death without actually dying to last more than an hour, I would avoid drinking all together. Instead I take the good with the bad, knowing that my headache is a mere consequence of my inability to avoid peer pressure, pop an Advil and move on with my day. But sometimes, Mr. Hangover, you want to hang around all day, and frankly, I don’t approve. It’s rude, and it confines me to a twenty-four hour horizontal period of indoor vampire activity because sunlight hurts my eyeballs. Take a cue from the last kid at the party and leave before you’re unwanted.

It’s that smell that seems to permeate the air at the worst possible time. You could be out at the bar with your friends, having a girls night, taking shots and reminiscing about the time you studied abroad and got robbed in broad daylight. Then all the sudden this stench hits your nose like a punch from Mohammad Ali. You cannot get over it, you cannot look past it, and you cannot figure out where it is coming from. If you are the person providing the general public with a smell strong enough to bring the fun level in a room down, please make a note to check yourself before you wreck everyone else. It’s common sense to have a sense of smell; use deodorant.

I’d like to politely say, “stop it forever” to The Cranberries. You do not have to, have to let it linger. The band had to practice some sort of ironic witchcraft that allowed that song to have staying power, but nevertheless, I’m here to plead with the masses and ask to remove it from your rotation, permanently.

It’s all fun and games to take a trip down memory lane. Some of the greatest memories I have as a child are so vivid in my mind it’s like they happened yesterday. But there is something about seeing an image that is so mentally scarring that it’s almost like an iron, tattoo needle, and a camera all came together around your cerebellum and said, “this one is going to stick with you forever.” Do I want to forget the time I unintentionally intercepted a sexual text message between two people with whom I should not know anything about their sex life? Absolutely. Is it going to forever be burned into my brain only to leave when I die? Yes.

But that’s the thing about the lingerer – it doesn’t go away when it should. I don’t understand why the good things never seem to hang around, like maintaining your goal weight after after a birthday party at Junk Foods R’ Us, or not feeling pain when you walk in heels.

Basically, whoever said too much of a good thing is bad never had anything good happen to them. They probably wanted to make out with the person hosting the party, had a blast and stayed longer than anticipated, but ultimately ended up staying too late and making it awkward.

And that sucks for that person, but let’s not make unwanted hang arounds a thing, okay?

Cheers to you, to me, to you, and back to me again, and then you, and then me.

Irish or not, you know about St. Patrick’s Day.

Seeing as Monday is one of the most glorified drinking holidays on the planet, I figured I’d give you a little something to think about going into the weekend. There’s going to be beer, there’s going to be drinking, there’s going to be parades, and most of all, there are going to be, “CHEERS!”

Yeah, yeah, we’ve heard them all, “To good friends! – To good times!” yadda, yadda, yadda. BOOOORING.

If you stick with the run of the mill drink clinks, you’ll quickly run out of things to say and simultaneously raise your glass. That’s why I’m here to help you.

The following is a list of things you can, “Cheers!” to this weekend in honor of Saint Patrick:

To money
To your bank account
To your parents, because without them you would not be alive and drinking today
To not falling down
To the Pilgrims and Indians getting along splendidly
To the military and the USA
To falling down and getting back up
To that kid not wearing green because “he isn’t Irish”
To that kid peeing on the sidewalk
To your friends because, “OH MY GAHHH I LOVE YOU SO MUCH”
To not using public restrooms
To finally getting to use the public restroom
To airplanes and automobiles that will bring you home
To candy hearts that express emotions so you don’t have to
To being single and not running into your ex
To not being single and running into your ex
To Tinder when there’s a surplus of hot drunk individuals in one concentrated area
To seeing eye dogs – because they’re the shit
To Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinski (he did not have sexual relations with that woman)
To not wearing heels
To bacon, eggs, and cheese, and bread. So much bread.
To live music and uncomfortably swaying and calling it ‘dancing’
To Outkast reuniting
To free alcohol
To stealing alcohol
To making fast friends on the streets that you have absolutely no intention of ever talking to again
To sleep number beds for always knowing what you want
To McDonald’s for giving us the Happy Meal when you’re ordering over 18 years of age
To wearing sunglasses when it’s not sunny because you’re too hungover to be in public
To the one time of the year wear corn beef and cabbage is a fun thing to eat
To castles and royalty
TO POTATOES!
To infinity and beyond
To street meat
To Janet Jackson’s nip slip
To Leo DeCaps and Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On”
To finding out all your socks matching up after laundry
To cooking something that isn’t poisonous
To haircuts and looking so fresh and so clean, clean
To creating resolutions and breaking them
To giving up beer for Lent…… then taking it back because St. Patrick’s day is during Lent
To the world’s largest ball of yarn
TO POTATOES!
To tear-away Adidas sweats and white high top sneakers
To snap bracelets and snap backs and Snap, Crackle, Pop
To Ramen noodles and drinking like you’re in college again
To day drinking and passing out before 9pm
To having an excuse to drunk dial your mom and dad just to , “Say hey.”
To Ireland and the people from it who immigrated here because there were no potatoes, without whom we would not be the population of drunk people we are today, and we have to salute you the only way we know how, by getting drunk

Go forth, my sons, into the land of inebriation.

Yeah, I will (not) be there in a minute.

Behold!

Below is a rudimentary list defining and subsequently documenting a myriad of tasks one can accomplish during the following time allocations:

The term for using big words to assert personal dominance over others has yet to be coined. 
In the meantime, feel free to use, 'egotistical overachiever' as an acceptable substitute.

Microwave Minute:

A term used to describe the activities one can accomplish whilst food is in the microwave. Tasks are seemingly endless, and include, but are not limited to, cleaning an entire house, re-tiling a floor, baking a turkey, and/or solving world hunger before coming back to the kitchen and realizing your Lean Cuisine still has thirty seconds before it’s done.

Sleep Minute:

The time it takes you to fall asleep, minus the time you are actually asleep, divided by the time spent knowing that you have to do something important in the morning. Symptoms include waking up thinking it is 3am believing you’ve been asleep for eight hours, just to look at your clock and realize you’re late for work. Alternatively, one can take a nap intended to last twenty sleep minutes, but in turn, accidentally lasts eight hours.

Hot Minute:

What you say to someone when you’re running late, but have no intention of actually taking less than sixty seconds to get your act together and get out the door. You can accomplish almost nothing in a hot minute, but your bottom dollar you’re going to give a fair effort.

Healthcare Minute:

What clinical secretaries give as a standard of measurement to let you know that your healthcare professional will be moving at a glacial pace, and will be with you after he or she has transversed across the entire globe during his or her lunch hour for a delicious sandwich, knowing full well you are a real person with a schedule to maintain, yet at the same time choosing to ignore your civic responsibilities in favor of their own personal satisfactions.

Travel Minute:

Often times, when traveling, you’ll hear the phrase, “Folks, this will just be a minute,” over the loudspeaker. Be aware that this means something is wrong and will most likely make you late for whatever it is you’re planning on attending. You can potentially read an entire novel and write a book report during a travel minute.

New York Minute:

A highly underrated film starring the incomparable tweens of my youth, Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen, that had absolutely nothing to do with time, but totally worth noting for the fashion sense, sophisticated plotline and dialogue.

Regular Minute:

An actual span of sixty seconds that is virtually non-existent because people like me are lazy and irresponsible, and people like you don’t enforce time constraints and allow me to get away with being late.

Think Before You… Oh Wait, Too Late.

It’s Friday! I’m extremely impulsive. So it’s about time to make a list of all the things I do before I think about the repercussions.

Buy five new books before I’ve even finished the one I’m currently reading
Decide to purchase flights across the country when I don’t know if I have time off from work
Eat an entire cheeseburger that weighs the same amount as a newborn baby
Drink an entire bottle of wine, and then another one
Make a crock pot meal and double the ingredients because I think I’m Martha Stewart
See how far I can go on empty before filling up my gas tank
Get all the supplies to do a Pinterested “DIY” craft and never attempt to do it
Sign up for the gym with no intentions of ever going
Sign up for a marathon with no intentions of actually running
Eat an entire can of BBQ Pringles hoping I won’t feel like a lardo
Consuming copious amounts of cheese, ice cream, milk, and yogurt knowing full well that I am lactose intolerant
Making drastic lifestyle changes because I had one bad day
Giving up drinking on the weekdays for Lent — WHY?
Swipe my credit card and “worry about it later”
Go on a blind date with a guy that turns out to be three feet tall and extremely clingy
Try to win a burrito contest from Chipotle only to be blacklisted because of sheer dedication
Avoid wearing a bra out in public only to realize I’d be out of the house for an entire eight hours
Drink wine for dinner because it’s healthier than going spoons deep in chunky peanut butter
Go out in public without make up only to bump into the only person you don’t want to see in public without make up
Drink beer for breakfast
Signing receipts with my twitter handle before realizing I’m a jackass
Not exercise
Watch an entire day’s marathon of Gangland only to be scared to walk outside my house for fear for my life
Watch an entire day’s marathon of CSI only to be even more terrified to walk outside my house for fear of my life
Choose to watch Titanic refusing to watch past the iceberg scene in respect to Leo DeCaps and in disdain of fat Rose taking up the entire goddamn floating double door
Knowing I’m due for a good cry and choosing to watch A Walk To Remember on a Saturday night before I go out
Pretending I know what I’m talking about then unintentionally getting wrapped up in a conversation full of lies and deceit
Going to the doctor to get my ears checked out and having it turn into a full fledged interrogation of my medical history — it’s just an ear lady, LAY OFF ME.
Deciding that after a week of drinking, it seems like a good time to check how much I weigh — IT’S NOT
Going outside without a jacket on because it’s not that cold out — when the only way I tell the temperature is by looking out my windows into the alley with no sunlight
Not checking the weather before I walk to work because I think I am an amature meteorologist
Looking at pictures of myself from middle school knowing that I thought I honestly looked really fly in my tearaway Addias sweat pants, Aeropostale polo shirt, a curly bun, and my grandmother’s dangly earrings
Starting this list and then realizing it’s dumb

The Common White Girl’s Idea of Struggling

Life is an uphill battle, but why toil with the stairs when you can take the elevator to the top?

I’m a common white girl from Connecticut and my idea of a struggle is figuring out how close I need to get to the drive-thru window in order to reach my food without unbuckling my seatbelt.

People tell you from day one to prepare for the worst, and hope for the best. So that’s what I do. But it’s a constant battle with the weather these days. I can’t get anything to go my way. I mean how am I supposed to channel corporate chic when I live in a metaphorical snowglobe and can’t wear heels to work?

Most days I wake up and hope against all odds that my hair picks a side between curly and straight and sticks to it. A lot of times that doesn’t happen, and it makes me really upset. If I knew it was going to be a bad hair day, I would have worn it in a bun initially, instead of wasting all it’s promise on the morning where I slapped myself every time I went to move one perfectly formed tendrel away from my face.

I moved out of my parents house almost two years ago, during that time I attempted to move my dresser up three flights of stairs. Eventually, I just asked my three younger brothers to help me out. I’m a huge advocate of outsourcing labor. Especially when it involves me delegating and not participating.

One time I was so hungover that I called out of work. The struggle was so real. I persevered by taking an inordinate amount of naps on a Wednesday.

There are a lot of aspects of my life that I find particularly difficult. For one, I can never decide which restaurant I want to try first, so I often make a decision based on the wine selections. If they don’t have pinot noir, they are obviously a bootleg establishment, and don’t deserve ~~my parents’~~ my money.

In attempt to not sound completely superficial and unaware of other human beings on this planet, I want to let everyone know that I have read multiple books — well, I sparknoted them — and understand the plight that other races and cultures have experienced through the written word. And boy, does that suck.

But the thing is, I’m not minimizing any of that stuff. I have feelings, thoughts, and values. I am a real person who empathizes with others.

I value shopping and what it does to support the economy. I am absolutely aware that my hard-earned dollars are contributing – in some way that I don’t actually understand – to this country’s health and well-being. I think voting is scary, so I don’t do it because politicians use big words and research is a lot of effort.

I feel like all the problems in the world would be solved if we were all tan and from Florida. You know why you never hear about unrest in Florida? Because everyone is actually resting and enjoying the sun. There’s no time for fighting when you’re living in a perpetual fantasy land. You’re welcome, world.

But growing up privileged does not mean I am immune to adversity. I posted a Facebook update on my whereabouts during my European vacation, and only seven people liked it. I took that as a cue to make a better effort at posting more interesting updates. By the end of my trip, I had almost forty people like my post about, “Putting the ‘Bar’ in Barcelona!” Success.

I do my best to shatter the rich white girl stereotype. Whenever there isn’t an attendant on duty, I’ll wait five minutes before reluctantly pumping my own gas. I also make a point to throw my spare change into the tip donation jars, you know, because every penny counts and I don’t use them anyways.

It’s not all glitz and glamour. I face just as many strifes each week as another person. After a hard day of pretending to work (but going on Pinterest instead), all I need to relax is a goblet of wine and a good television show. It’s times like these that I realize the Gods are smiting me because last week I had no wine on a Tuesday and my Netflix crashed so I was forced to watch the news. I was asleep in my clothes before 8pm. Thanks a lot, technology.

People say it’s a dog eat dog world, but I’ve never witnessed it. I can’t understand why a dog would want to eat another dog, and I don’t really understand why that phrase applies to human nature in the slightest. I’ve never been denied a job opportunity, and constantly look for ways to slide under the radar while still being labeled as “efficient” within my workplace.

I’m just trying to do my best to survive on a reasonable salary while maintaining an active social life and not buying store-brand groceries.

I’m a common white girl and my idea of a struggle is understanding what it means to struggle.