GUEST POST: Racing Bananas Takes Over Half and Half!

Well, we are in for a special treat!  No pun intended, but kind of intended because I love snacks and she does too and that’s why I asked her to do this for me.

I like to eat, and figured everyone else does too, or else we’d all be dead, and then no one would be able to read my blogs (THE HORROR!) and my spanish teacher from tenth grade would be right in her assumption that I am not good at anything.

Anyways, enough about Senora Biatch, and more about food.  Hopefully you enjoy a little break from my nonsensical rambles, and enjoy something a little healthier for your mind and body.

Hi All! My name is Kim and I blog over at Racing Bananas, where I talk about my journey to live a healthy and active lifestyle. I stumbled upon Meg’s blog about a month ago and love it! Her posts are hilarious and witty and definitely keep me coming back wanting more! Today, Meg is letting me hijack her blog today to share with you some of my favorite go to snacks.

Kim Apple

My healthy living journey began during the Summer 2011 – I had reached my highest weight and was battling depression and self-image issues. With my dad and brother, I decided to change my eating habits and began exercising. I started doing the Atkins Diet, but soon realized that it was not sustainable for me. So paired with going to the gym and eating more healthy and in moderation, I have lost and maintained a 40 pounds over three years. It’s something that I am extremely proud of and strive to maintain. This can be pretty difficult, because I love chocolate. And ice cream. And pizza and cheeseburgers and French fries, and…well basically if it’s not good for you, I want it in my belly!

One way that I’m able to curb my “eat all the things!” mindset is by planning ahead. I’m a big snacker and need to eat every couple of hours (or I get hangry and scare my co-workers), so I usually make sure I stock the fridge and pantry with lots of healthy options that I can grab and eat during the day.

Some of my favorite combinations are:

Plain Greek Yogurt w/roasted pumpkin seeds or granola. I used to be a flavored Greek yogurt junkie until I saw how much sugar was in a container (as much as in a candy bar! Given the choice, I’ll take my sugar in chocolate form). It took a bit of getting used to, but I now really enjoy plain Greek yogurt and like to add in toasted pumpkin seeds or granola for a morning snack.

yogurt

Red Peppers and Hummus. I’m not the biggest proponent of eating raw veggies, mostly because I think they’re bland. Except for red peppers, which I love because they are tangy and red. They taste great with hummus too!

Tuna Salad in a lettuce wrap or whole wheat pita. I only recently decided I liked tuna, and now I make my own tuna salad at home by mixing canned tuna with laughing cow wedges. It’s tasty! I wrap this in a leaf of romaine lettuce and love to chow down.

tuna salad

Rice Cakes with peanut butter. I know rice cakes have a bad rap – they are literally the most boring food around. But I started slathering them with a tablespoon of peanut butter (and sometimes cinnamon and a cut up banana) and they are quite tasty. And filling!

Mashed Avocado on Toast. I love avocado everything. My go to is to half an avocado and mash it in a bowl and season with paprika and garlic powder and then put on toast. Try it. You’ll love it!

Smoothie. If I have smoothies, it’s usually in the morning because I work in an office and think my co-workers would think I was nuts if I started blending things in the middle of the day. But smoothies are a great post-work out (or anytime) snack that you can fill with fruits, protein, and fiber!

smoothie

With a bit of planning, you can have tasty snacks all day and not having to default to sugar filled granola bars (which I love #guiltypleasure) but couldn’t fill me up if they tried!


Thanks again to Meg for letting me take over today! Now I want to hear from you! What is your favorite go-to snack?

 

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How To Determine If You’re Actually An Old Person

Lookin' good, girlfran!

Lookin’ good, girlfran!

If you answer yes to one or more of the following questions, you may be an old person.

So break out those typewriters, get some chalk and a slate, and let’s talk all talk about all the differences from “when we were your age.”

We’re taking a mental tally and determining if you should be considered a senior citizen and grab yourself a discounted movie ticket!

 You may be an old person if:

  • Your idea of risky behavior is leaving the free square open in a game of bingo
  • Your bedtime is before the nightly news
  • Your concept of dinnertime coincides with the phrase “early bird special”
  • You frequently style your hair with plastic rollers
  • You prefer shoes that are comfortable rather than fashionable
  • You only look at movie times prior to noon
  • You are visually impaired
  • You drive an oversized sedan at a very low speed
  • You wear sunglasses that cover three sides of your face
  • Leftovers is your favorite meal
  • You find yourself using everyday items as a crutch to get you to and from locations
  • You often utilize office equipment (rolly chairs) as transportation devices in order to subsidize your desire to own a motorized scooter
  • The first thing you order at a diner is a bran muffin with extra raisins
  • You hate rap music
  • You substitute common curse words with child-friendly versions
  • You purchase Activia yogurt
  • Your idea of Halloween candy is a cough drop or a Werther’s butterscotch toffee
  • Prunes are a regular part of your dietary routine
  • You constantly find yourself reminiscing on times of when you were someone’s age
  • You find yourself replacing social activities with today’s crossword or sudoku puzzle
  • You are easily angered and perplexed by the internet
  • You find yourself using any excuse to take photos with a physical camera
  • You use the term “rest your eyes” instead of “taking a long ass nap”
  • Your cell phone is not smart
  • You have a coin collection that extends from the spare change in your wallet
  • You live in Florida
  • You live on a golf course
  • You have high cholesterol
  • You’re in a book club that doesn’t read books
  • You misplace everyday objects like your glasses or your pants
  • You have dentures or some sort of teeth protector
  • You opt to pay with a check and don’t understand why people are angry or confused about it
  • You find yourself outfitted in sweaters and slacks when it’s any temperature below 72
  • You yell at children to get off your lawn
  • You’re dead

Or you may just be me and be twenty-five and love wine so much that you’d rather sit at home alone and pantless on a Friday night watching Netflix than go out and be social.


What is your favorite old person stereotype?

Honest Acceptance Speeches

Yeah, we all know you want to thank your parents, your family, and your fans.  But really, how can you forget all the things that really make the world go round?

First and foremost, I’d like to thank:

  • Bono, for single handedly fueling sales of blue polarized sunglasses.
  • Puppies, for teaching couples that kids are really going to be a lot of work.
  • Crunchy peanut butter, for diversifying the snack game.
  • Maxi dresses, for being my entire summer wardrobe.
  • Sunglasses, for allowing me to sneakily stare at people without being noticed.
  • Snuggies, for repurposing the bathrobe by simply wearing it backwards.
  • Text messages, for allowing me to ignore phone calls because “I can’t talk right now.”
  • Tattoos, for permanently reminding me of how stupid I am.
  • Beyonce, for being “everything,” so girls all over the world “literally can’t even” to the point that they “die.”
  • Grease, for clearly indicating when I need to shower.
  •  Barbecues, for giving everyone an excuse to eat and drink outside.
  • Scarves, for catching all my crumbs so I can save them for later.
  • Glasses, for allowing my eyeballs to be puffy with a barrier.
  • Air conditioning, for keeping me sane when it’s above 74 degrees.
  • Nick Lachey, for somehow staying relevant.
  • Dancing with the Stars, for cutting Kim Kardashian in the first week.
  • American Idol, for proving that The Voice is better.
  • Katy Perry, for comparing men to aliens, all while looking like an alien herself.
  • The Skinny Arm Pose, for making girls everywhere create triangles with their bodies.
  • Instagram, for giving everyone the option to look better than they actually do.
  • Push-Button Faucets, for showing me that I take too long to wash my hands.
  • The DMV, for teaching me that I have no patience.
  • The grocery store snack aisle, for your ability to make me forget and disregard everything I initially came to buy.
  • iPhone screenshot, for allowing me to capture inside jokes in text message threads and post them on social media, even though no one else will understand what it means.
  • Status updates, for letting me know that Carl from Florida is currently on his third episode of Hoarders with no plans of stopping anytime soon.
  • Spaghetti, for demonstrating that I am not an attractive eater.
  • Selfies, for letting the world know exactly what my face looks like at all hours of the day.
  • Buns, for somewhat salvaging my bad hair day.
  • Makeup, for making me look like a human being.
  • Accents, for blessing the world with imitation material.
  • Bret Michaels, for his commitment to the bandana cause.
  • Oreos, for being milk’s favorite cookie.

… And of course, last and certainly not least, I’d like to thank Leonardo DiCaprio, for being my imaginary husband and life partner.  You’re the best, babe.  I wouldn’t be here without all your love and support.

Stay classy.

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

#mylife

#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.

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. 

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.

Why Girls Buy Other Girls Drinks

  • Because they’re bored
  • Because it’s 5pm
  • Because it’s 9pm
  • Because it’s last call
  • Because it’s happy hour
  • Because there are jello shots
  • Because there is Fireball
  • Because, “You’re just, like, my best friend and I love you, so much. Like really.  To the moon and back, girlfran.”
  • Because it’s my turn
  • Because it’s their turn
  • Because she’s new to the group
  • Because she’s not in the group
  • Because she’s a better wingwoman when she’s drunk
  • Because she took one for the team
  • Because she needs it
  • Because I need it
  • Because it will make us dance
  • Because I’m an enabler
  • Because we’re easily persuaded
  • Because you know she won’t say no
  • Because she got promoted
  • Because we got fired
  • Because we’re single
  • Because her boyfriend is gone
  • Because we got dumped
  • Because we dumped someone
  • Because it’s a holiday
  • Because we’re on vacation
  • Because tropical drinks will make you think you’re on vacation
  • Because she’s not pregnant
  • Because there’s a snowstorm
  • Because we’re hungover
  • Because it’s cold outside and drinks make us warm
  • Because it’s pay day
  • Because we’re the only people at the bar
  • Because my job sucks
  • Because our feet hurt
  • Because, “You look like you need a drink.”
  • Because we look good
  • Because we feel like shit
  • Because when we don’t eat dinner we get drunk faster
  • Because wine is good for our heart
  • Because, “WE NEED TO CHEERS!”
  • Because we need to toast to random events
  • Because we need to look interesting
  • Because I showered today
  • Because I need to ask you something important and/or horrible
  • Because I’m going to guilt you into doing something you don’t want to do but will do it anyways cause I bought you that drink in your hand
  • Because you got a haircut
  • Because it’s Sunday Funday
  • Because it’s brunch
  • Because it’s an open bar and I’m not really buying it
  • Because it’s relaxing
  • Because I had a bad day at work
  • Because you had a great day at work
  • Because you got laid
  • Because we’re trying to get laid
  • Because it’s a weekday
  • Because it’s the weekend
  • Because I need to unwind
  • Because any excuse to buy a drink is a good excuse to buy a drink
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Dance Dance Revolution

The first time I can remember being confused by dancing was when my my dad would play Elvis Presley records and jived around my living room in a bathrobe to ‘Hound Dog.”

The second time was I witnessed my mother grooving to the tunes of her youth at a Bruce Springsteen concert.  It wasn’t really dancing, but more of a feet firmly planted, upper body twisting while simultaneously moving arms in a ‘choo-choo train’ motion to the beat of “Born To Run.”

I’m absolutely forty-percent positive my parents were once big-whigs on the dance floor. But after the poor display over the course of my youth, I felt certain that I was destined for mockery when it came to cutting a rug.

It only recently dawned on me that not only do we enter different stages of life as people, but of dancing as well.  Do you ever see an eighty-year old woman dropping into a worm?  No.  Can you picture a four-year-old busting out jazz hands like he or she is the main event at a cheerleading competition?  Not intentionally, that is.

We enter a phase of dance that follows us through specific years of our lives.  From birth to death, there are certain dances that are inherently acceptable and they are as follows:

Toddler

This is when you’re a baby and dancing means grasping firmly onto any surface that will withstand your baby grip and repeatedly trying to sit down whilst not letting go.  It’s like you’re doing wall sits, but there happens to be music going on and your mother claps in approval while filming your half-sits and appropriately titling it “JOSH’S FIRST DANCE!” when she posts it on her Facebook wall.

Elementary School

If you are a girl, you had your friends over your house while you made a choreographed dance to the best hits of the decade.  The amount of times I had my mother sit and film my friends and I doing dance routines that consisted of high fives and somersaults is almost unmanageable.  But it’s a just right of passage to the better years.

Middle School

Middle School dancing is all about the Bat and Bar Mitzvahs. If there was ever an age-inappropriate event it would be these shindigs.  Sure, I had fun, but attending a party that cost ten grand at twenty-two would have been a way better use of my Saturday afternoon. The cutest boys were there, there were cheap, carnivalesque prizes, and a DJ spinning on the ones and twos.  Everyone who was anyone was invited.  There were parental chaperones, so the closest dance you got with a boy was a slow dance to Brian McKnight’s “Start Back At One” and you always had to dance forming the shape of an A to leave room for Jesus.

High School

Prommy, prom, prom.  Is he going to ask?  Am I going to have to shell out two-hundred dollars for a faux satin dress with gaudy embellishments that I will wear only once? The first taste of adulthood comes with a hairdo that never turns out the way you want it, and a first come, first serve atmosphere when it comes to dresses.  You do NOT want to have the same dress.  Also, make sure to get one with forgiving and flowing fabric; you’re going to need it when you’re grinding dirty all up on the overly hormonal boys in your class.  Feet planted, legs alternating, as close as possible, hands around the neck, then move back and forth in sync.  That’s it.  You’ve mastered the art of the high school grind. NEVER MAKE EYE CONTACT.  So awkward.

College

Go to the bar. Get a drink, dance alone.  Dance with a guy.  Dance with a girl.  Dance against a wall.  All acceptable.  As long as when you’re dancing, the drink you’re holding is swaying back and forth uncontrollably and spilling everywhere. You’re a hot mess and it’s okay.  Nothing is expected of you.

Wedding

Suddenly, all the songs that were the hot beats at middle school dances are all the rage again at your wedding.  It’s like you instinctively remember that you are leaving your youth to enter holy matrimony, so the final event on your first day of marital bliss will be to take a trip down memory lane and Cha-Cha Slide and YMCA all over the reception hall.

Parenthood

Is there anything more embarrassing than Dad Dancing?  Showing up with your parents at an event and after the meal looking over to find you dad flailing his arms in the air like he’s sending SOS signals to the DJ. Look over to your right and you see your mother simulating a choo-choo train and everything comes full circle in your life.  You’ve seen the pinnacle of bustin a move, and your future with gyrating does not look pretty.  But hey, at least you can make it look good, right?