people

Tag Has Been Banned From Recess And I’ve Lost All Faith In Humanity.

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Survival 101.

Humanity has lost its mind.

We’re just all living in one, big, ozone-covered insane asylum that is slowly but surely turning all of the world’s children into pansies.

Playgrounds were once viewed as a voyeuristic jungle in which a child could pretend to be anything he or she wanted. Now, they are reduced to kindergarten demilitarized zones in which kids are forced to simply just sit down and watch as the swings sway in the wind.

Tag is banned. Dodgeball is eradicated. Fun is gone.

Now, I got hurt quite a bit as a child. From my middle finger almost being severed (which would have been tragic considering how much I use it), to a tree and bike collision, my childhood was far from band-aid and emergency room free.

But I like to think that despite all the cuts, bruises, and broken bones, I turned out to be a socially capable adult and functioning member of society (Please refrain from further investigating that statement).

I also like to think that playing (physical) games during recess in elementary and middle school are crucial to cognitively developing social skills with other people. How is a kid going to grow up knowing he wants to play football if he never gets the chance to play it during school? How is a child supposed to know what defeat is if everyone gets a trophy and there are no losers?

Newsflash: The world is full of football and defeat. Life is tough, to ignore it is preposterous, and to ban it is blasphemous (big word usage, +100 points). Get a helmet and go back out there.

This one is about a trip down memory lane and paying tribute to the fallen soldiers of the recess game world.

Let’s take a look at the games considered too dangerous but I played them and turned out fine:

Red Rover: Ahh, Red Rover, Red Rover, send Pete on over! The classic game of death grips and running full speed ahead at the weakest pair in the line. This is a game of strategy for both teams. So while you’re over there picking the weakest kid on the opposing squad to run through your child chain linked fence, he or she is over there plotting the same revenge to be extracted. And is there a better feeling than breaking through an elementary arm grip? I don’t think so.

**Redeeming Value: Learn how to shake a hand. Have you ever shook someone’s hand and it was like holding a dead fish? Prescribe that kid a game of red rover and he or she will have the firmest handshake in town.

Tetherball: I’ll be honest. I made my mom put a tether ball up on a tree in my front yard so I could practice daily. There were lines out the playground to get a piece of the tether ball champion at recess. The best was the momentum, once you got it, there was no stopping – and hearing the chain that connected the ball to the rope hit the pole to end the game was nothing short of a magical experience. Short kids shouldn’t play this game. It’ll be an uphill battle from day one. Sorry.

**Redeeming Value: Hand-Eye coordination.

Butts Up: Fifth grade aim is mediocre at best. Plus, if you were a girl lucky enough to survive three rounds of this game – you were pretty much guaranteed a prom date by age seven.

**Redeeming Value: Obtaining a prom date earlier than everyone else. Avoiding that type of stress is seriously encouraged.

Freeze Tag: Survival of the Fittest. Run or be frozen. Don’t know how you can take that away from a kid. If you were the only kid to escape freeze tag without becoming a statue? You’re a legend, and definitely a future Olympian.

**Redeeming Value: Learn to be a statue. If you’re good at freezing, you’re probably good at being one of those guards in front of the royal palace who don’t move at all. Or you could become a gargoyle or a garden gnome, depending on your level of ambition.

Dodgeball: What were balls made for if not for dodging? Get over yourself. If you’re out, sit down. Hopefully there’s an athletic Joe out there who can catch a ball and you can learn how to shadow the good kids and not get out on the first throw. If you don’t have athleticism, use your brain. Making the star baseball player become a human wall for you is probably the best advice I will ever give.

**Redeeming Value: Learning to sneak under the radar. Shadowing the best player on the team will ensure you that you will at least not be the first one out, thus you’ve removed the brand on your face that says you suck at throwing and catching. CHA-CHING.

Rest In Peace, Recess Games. You were always there when I needed an ego boost or stress relief. Hope you’re up in activity heaven just hamming it up with banned books and platonic hugs from inspirational teachers. There is now a thirty minute play period in schools where kids just kinda sit down and stare at things. It’s apparently way more fun and a lot more safe.

PS – I challenge anyone to a game of tetherball. Anyone 5’4 and over 160lbs with extreme athleticism need not inquire.

Your Cell Phone Is Turning You Into A Jackass

Have you ever had a tree magically appear in the middle of your walking path? Bump into a mailbox that had the audacity to stick out just a little too far from its post? Fall victim to a dip in the sidewalk that DEFINITELY wasn’t there yesterday?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, you may not know it, but your cell phone is turning you into a jackass.

A lot of people in today’s society would rather lose both arms and trade their first born instead of going a day without their cell phone. We have this need to be connected at all times of the day; to know what is going on every minute of every hour. Without our phones, we might miss what Angelina Jolie wore to the grocery store at 8:36am on a Tuesday.

But I’m not here to point fingers. I have, at one or many points, answered yes to all three of the questions I posed above. Which is why I have recognized and admitted that my cellphone has in fact, turned me into an asshole.

If you live in a city, or anywhere that generates substantial foot traffic, you recognize that something as simple as walking in a straight line may seem like a Herculean task for some people. There are those people who take up the entire sidewalk, or those who think that suddenly stopping will somehow make the laws of inertia follow suit, preventing everyone who is following from a body to body collision.

If you put a cell phone in the hands of any and/or all of those people, the world might just self destruct.

When you have your cell phone in your hand, everyone around you becomes irrelevant. It’s almost as if it emits a force field that envelops your entire body, blocking out all sound, sight, and common sense. So naturally, that oak tree sprouted overnight, that mailbox is absolutely sticking out too far, and that dip in the sidewalk was definitely not there the day before.

On the off chance that you happen to be a human being who doesn’t use their phone for an application telling you how to put one foot in front of the other, yet you still can’t put it down for your ten minute walk to wherever it is you’re going, we would all like you to know that we understand how important your life is, and we will start making adjustments to our schedules to stay out of your way.

Your cellphone cloud of ignorance does not dissipate when you leave the sidewalk, it follows you into your home, your work, and your social life.

When you are out with friends and simple conversation isn’t enough to stimulate your brain, your cell phone might be turning you into a jackass. Refusing to acknowledge anyone else’s conversational needs before your own is a tell tale sign of not giving a fuck about anyone but yourself.

I’m sure the person or people you are out with loves staring at your forehead while you answer text messages from friends who are not currently present. Seeing you take a phone call at dinner and then listening in on half of your conversation with your cousin, John, may or may not be the highlight of their day.

There are several remedies that can help reverse being a jackass when it comes to using your phone. All you need to do is simply take your cellphone, place it in your pocket, and go wherever you need to go. I promise no one will think you have no friends if you are walking around completely aware of your surroundings.

You can also take a more extreme approach, and when out with friends, put your phone on vibrate, silent, or in some cases, even powered off. This will ensure that you will have face-to-face, uninterrupted conversations with whomever you’re out. Should the occasion arise where one or more parties need to use the restroom, feel free to take out your phone to check to see if anyone thinks you’ve skipped town.

But, maybe you could use the brief moment of solitude to reflect on your newfound freedom, know that you’re with a person or group of people who have chosen to hang out with you, and revel in the fact that you do indeed have friends even though you are not currently on your phone talking to someone.

Or you can always just be a jackass.

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.

Dear Girls Of Tomorrow,

I’ve been there before. I’ve made those mistakes. Take my advice: here’s how not to dress.

We live in a digital age. It’s no secret that most things we do eventually end up on the internet. This is awesome for events like New Years Eve, birthday parties, and charity events or functions.

Then there are the events involving a face plant in the street running to catch the late bus that your friend HAD to document.

To put it bluntly, not everyone is photogenic. But that doesn’t give you an excuse to throw common sense out the window with the baby and the bathwater.

What I’m saying is, there’s going to be pictures of you girls circulating the internet for the rest of your lives. You need to take preventative measures to ensure that when you do land your dream job interview, a picture of you in seventh grade wearing a Ronald Regan mask and your grandmother’s bathrobe doesn’t surface during the process.

So you should not do any of these things before or during taking a picture that will represent you for the rest of your life at that age, and your friends and family will also see it and that is how they will remember you forever.

2nd Grade

A general rule of thumb is to not wear your grandmother’s tablecloth when taking a photo.

A nice pink embroidered doily collar may seem cutesy and innocent, but in reality it will only make your co-workers and peers question whether or not your mother took outfits off your life-sized Raggedy Ann doll and dressed you in them in an effort to save money.

Also a good thing to remember is to not do dangerous activities before a known photo-op. Going on a two-wheel bike adventure when you aren’t the most confident rider isn’t the type of activity you want to roll into when your third grade yearbook photo is right around the corner.

3rd Grade

If you’re just too adventurous and crazy to avoid indulging in extreme sports, you’ll inevitably be the girl wearing long underwear because you can’t fit regular sleeves over your cast.

REMEMBER: THERE ARE ALWAYS RETAKES. ALWAYS.

Borrowing argyle sweater vests from your youngest brother is not only frowned upon, but in some countries it’s illegal. I don’t care how flawless your hair looks that day, or if you were an ombre pioneer before ombre was a ‘thing,’ you do not need clothes that badly that you resort to rummaging through your brother’s drawers to find an outfit.

4th Grade

(But I mean look at that blonde to light blonde fade, it’s totally magnificent, right?)

Make sure your shirts fit you.

A good way to determine if a shirt fits is by making sure it is not two sizes bigger than every other shirt you own. Or that is not your mom’s.

5th Grade

Don’t wear choker necklaces, even if that dangly bead in the middle is the most jaw-dropping plastic gemstone you own, and it makes Rose’s sapphire necklace from Titanic pale in comparison.

Seriously, don’t get bangs in puberty.

I don’t care if they look great on Sabrina, the cool girl, you will ultimately end up gluing them to your scalp with a can of Rave hairspray every morning and consequently looking more like a guido-gremlin hybrid than a fifth grade girl.

Oh yeah… and braces. There are no rules about braces except that it’s required to change the rubber band colors to coordinate with the holidays.

Don’t set the tone for your middle school reputation by wearing a floral v-neck from Limited Too.

6th Grade

Also, practice your smile extensively before taking any pictures.

Photographs aren’t forgiving – neither are parents when it comes to allowing you to hang out with their children.

Creepy smiles will not get you very far. It definitely won’t get you a babysitting job.

Puberty is the worst time in your life. Try and make the best of it.

7th Grade

Wearing half-turtle neck argyle sweaters is not a way to make the best of it. At the very least, if you’re going to do it, commit to a full neck or at least a scarf.

It’s imperative that you never, ever let your mother attempt to tame your pubescent mane by straightening it with a curling iron. You will end up with tresses shaped like a voluminous frizz triangle and have people asking if someone rubbed a balloon on the back of your head to create static electricity.

Wearing your hair in a half-up, half-down fashion is completely acceptable, if done correctly.

8th Grade

Wearing half of your hair in a bun from gym class and the other half down as the remnants of last night’s botched straightening job is a big, big no no no nononononoNO.

Plus, wearing a collared shirt with a lace-up neckline is one step shy of actually going cookoo for Coco Puffs.

And again, with the smile. Please, for the love of God, practice your smile.

Avoid shopping at Aeropostale, Wet Seal, or Rave.

9th Grade

Don’t take two tiny tresses located at the widow’s peak section of your hairline and wear them in a bang-like, accessory fashion, not pulling them into your ponytail or headband.

You will regret this. Mostly because you will slightly resemble a dinosaur.

Last, but definitely not least, if your friends ever tell you it’s okay to take sweatshirts from lost and found and parade around claiming them as your own, please ignore them and immediately question their intelligence.

By not doing these things, and following my instructions, strangers will not have to wonder – even just a little bit – if you grew to develop an odd affinity for fedoras or played the tambourine in a traveling band.

Ultimately, fashion consciousness is not always second nature with every girl, clearly it wasn’t my strong point. At the end of the day, if you don’t do or wear what makes you happy, you’re missing out on a lot of what life has to offer. Do what you love, and wear what you want.

Unless it’s a lace up, argyle, v-neck polo. Please, please, please avoid those.

UP NEXT: How to NOT apply make-up.

Love,

Meg (President of the Late Bloomers)

Treat Emotions Like Beer, Bottle Them up.

brothers.

Although my parents would characterize my seemingly regular childhood temper tantrums as a pretty aggressive display of emotion, outside of demanding extra dessert and slapping my brothers for ripping the heads off my barbies, I’ve never been great at expressing my feelings.

Maybe it was because I grew up with three younger brothers. As the oldest of four, and the only girl, I never really had a model for how to act. My mother and I, although very close, are very different when it comes to personality.

Needless to say, if you’re going to survive eighteen years in the midst of a male dominated household, you have to learn how to protect yourself in emotional combat. Aside from the regular physical battles, the way brothers really get to you is by finding your mental weaknesses, and attacking when you least expect it.

Growing up with brothers teaches you not to dwell on little things, to stand up for yourself, and how to be competitive. But it also, unintentionally, leads you towards the masculine side of the emotional spectrum; so instead of saying how you feel in the moment, you retreat and don’t talk about it.

When you hang out with boys all the time, you learn that they would rather give you a beer than sit and listen to your problems.

friends.

Because nothing makes guys more uncomfortable than when a girl just unloads all her personal crap on them. Especially if it’s during a football game or when you’re out at a bar. When you have a “girl day,” you learn to drink a beer and deal with it later.

This works well until you realize you are in college and have not sustained one real or lasting relationship during your lifetime. If someone wanted to date me, I was either unaware or uninterested, because if it meant talking about feelings and being vulnerable, I didn’t want any part of it.

Everyone puts up walls for different reasons. Personally, the initial thought of letting someone in that you barely know is daunting. The act of sharing secrets, opening doors to your past, and exposing yourself, metaphorically, to another person for the sake of a connection is terrifying.

At the same time, while a little mystery is a good thing, there needs to be a dichotomy between the two people in a relationship to make it work. Eventually you will have to let your guard down.

Recently, there have been an overwhelming amount of circumstances that formidably illustrate my inability to give up control over certain aspects of my life. Whether it be attending a friend’s wedding, my parent’s thirtieth anniversary, or my most recent breakup, I have come to the brutal realization that I need to step outside my comfort zone in order to foster a meaningful connection with someone.

I’ve had my fair share of crazy experiences: skydiving, bungee jumping, one time I even ate cat food. But the tangible part of being afraid is much more desirable than emotionally freefalling into unknown territory. I mean at least after skydiving I got a sticker telling me I did a good job not dying.

Thinking about the craziest thing I’ve ever done, I immediately remember how terrified I was to actually commit to it. Picking up and moving to a new city, alone, without a job or any financial support other than my own was the single most daunting event in my life. But looking back on the past year and a half, knowing where I am now, the reward was totally worth the struggle.

At the end of the day, no one can make you take that leap other than yourself. Outside influences, supportive or not, have no weight compared to what your gut tells you to do. Knowing that personal reflection and a willingness to change are attributes I admire in someone, it only makes sense that I try and develop them.

My twenty-fifth birthday is only a few weeks away. I’m not entirely positive if it is the looming “quarter-century” age label weighing on my conscious, or just the stark reality that I’m resisting a change I know I need to make, but either way, it’s scary as all hell knowing that being vulnerable is something that is not only expected, but appreciated in lasting relationships.

I guess I’ll just have to be twenty-five and terrified.

I just hope someone gives me a sticker on my thirtieth birthday. I need to know I did a good job not dying.

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.

Alright, Who Spiked the Kool-Aid?

DISCLAIMER: This post is about how I am trying to collect new friends. It is also filled with a lot of random mumbo jumbo that may or may not confirm that I am off my rocker. Read on for more information.

Normally when something good happens to me, it’s because I’m on my fourth glass of wine.

The adult grapes usually give me a false sense of overconfidence and the idea in my head that I am excellent at anything and everything I do.

Then I realize it’s Saturday night and I’m sitting on my couch braless, in expandable pants, eating stale veggie stix while watching Spring Breakers and contemplating how to appropriately word my letter to the Academy demanding Selena Gomez be nominated for an Oscar.

Then I wake up in the morning and realize that my good idea at the time is actually just the brainchild of my ballsy, wine-induced, overconfident alter ego, Megye West.

When I found out that I was Freshly Pressed, I had to slap myself twice, eat two sandwiches (no relation, I was just really hungry that day), and call my mom to tell her she wasn’t the only one reading my blog anymore.

I’ve had a slew of new followers since being so fresh and so pressed, pressed, which is amazing and I am super-dee-duperly thankful for all of ya peeps, mostly because my cerebral cortex is one weird place.

Since you’ve been so wonderful as to care about what I have to say, I wanted to take the time to get to know all of you. That’s right, I WANT TO BE FRIENDS WITH YOU.

So here’s what to do if you want to be friends, which essentially means you’ll instantly be on the proverbial path towards greatness and celebrity status and I will shower you with compliments and fairy dust (or just do it to take pity on me) :

Leave a link to your favorite blog post from this past week in the comments section, I want to see what you all have to say, and perhaps boost my vocabulary in the process. Gotta get my brain right, ya dig?
If you’d be so inclined, you can follow me on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Google+. Because too much of a good thing is never too much… or is it? No, it’s not, because ice cream and puppies exist, and you can never have too much of those.
Answer the question below and email it to me. I’ll pick my favorite to be featured in a new segment that I’m creating right this second called, “What Happens When Meg Asks Weird Stuff.” It should be a blast. Or it will backfire in my face. One or the other.
Ask me weird questions. Like I said on my About page, I am in no way shape or form qualified to give advice, but I do it anyways. Like a boss. And a champion. We can talk about what would happen if dogs could speak English, or why more people aren’t terrified of ladybugs. Think about the possibilities. They are almost as unlimited as breadsticks at Olive Garden.

Question of the week:

How many five-year-old kids do you think you can take on in a fight and still be victorious? Rationalize your answer.

Sorry to the two friends who had their faces removed. I’ll buy you new faces ASAP.

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.

Yeah.. um, let’s just take a left.

Sixteen Things I Wish I Knew When I Was Sixteen

I’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.

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.

Half and Half

half wit. half wisdom. a whole lot of nonsense.