It takes a lot for me to admit something...and by a lot..I mean a lot.
I'm stubborn, scared, nervous by all meanings of the word and most of all, proud. My pride almost takes a toll on my well being to a point.
But, it is time for me to admit it..I have become open. I have become open to the idea that men aren't awful. Typing those words almost makes my hands quiver. I crack my thumbs simultaneously as I re-read that line over and over again. I had built up such thick, broad walls against the united front of the male population. All the he's of the world wanted to do was hurt me. Time and time again I had more losses than I could count. I would reveal my feelings, give something away and I would be left with a broken heart.
I decided to pick up the pieces and harden my heart, instead of wallowing in self pity, I would make myself to understand that the whole idea of men wasn't worth my time. I am an independent woman, aren't I? It's the 21st Century, and these times were made for girls like me. I could study law, get a job and make an honest living. I could have my cat Grandma Lois and that would be it. I wouldn't give a man a single second of my thoughts.
I was determined to make myself believe that love did not exist, only strong friendships. Only that people were meant to think that they had to conform in order to carry on family name, gain property, status and companionship. There was no such thing as fate, but in my non objective opinion, God bringing two friends together in order to do what was best for themselves and for humankind.
To me love was but a blindfold. Once placed across the eyes of someone it easily distracted it's victims from friends, family, work, studies, etc. It was a curse, not a blessing. It made people act irrationally and strange. I dedicated eighteen whole years of my life into drug and alcohol prevention because those substances distracted and poisoned the minds of those around me, and I believed this so called love was doing the same. I needed to stop it.
I became bitter. I cried a lot, almost every single day. One of my favorite television programs stated, "When a couple gets married, two single people die", and that's how I saw it. I would lose all of my friends. I was so used to a friend starting to date and virtually forget my existence. I was so selfish.
I decided it was time for a change. I had to stop hating others, I had to stop hating something that brought my own two wonderful parents together, but most importantly I needed to stop hating myself. The root to all the problems was that I wasn't pretty enough in my mind. Not for myself and sure as hell not enough for anyone else.
Too big, too wide, too everything. A disgusting blob of nothing piled on to some thick bones and shoved out into the world to become a middle class, no name, no nothing citizen. That was me in my head. I poisoned, starved, and chastised myself time and time again. Very few spoke ill of me, so I did it to myself. Tricking my mind into thinking awful, dastardly things that I dare not repeat.
I'm done. I've said it once and I'll say it again. I'm done. I know I am not second rate, and others know that too. I have done great things with my nineteen years and I hopefully will have more years to come, in which I can make a difference. I could not go on preaching to others that it was important for them to value themselves and speak kindly when I had a hissing snake inside my own skull.
I am not the prettiest girl on the planet, but I am not ugly. I am not the smartest person around, but I am not stupid. I am worth something. I wouldn't have such miraculous people constantly telling me that I am valuable if I wasn't. I know how easy it is to give up, I give up all the time, and if I'm an important cause to someone, I guess it would be selfish of me to stop trying.
About last year at this time I told myself that I would be done with these dreadful things..and I failed. But rather than fail and toss away my future and be pessimistic and depressed, I will try again. If I fall back into another self destructive pattern, at least I tried. At least I tried to see the good in all, in love, in men. At least I tried to give up my addiction to anger.
And I will keep trying, hoping and praying for a change. For inspiration, drive and motivation for a change. I believe I can do it, do you?
You damned well better.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Sunday, October 7, 2012
A Love Letter To You
There are many things that people want in this world. To be successful, to be rich, but the most common is probably to be happy. This is definitely what I want with my life.
I've always wanted someone to send me flowers, but flowers die I suppose. But the thought of such a gesture is a good one, right? I've also wanted someone to write me a love letter. I used to get upset about the fact that I would probably never get one, but then I realized that in order to receive, one needs to give. So here is my love letter to you, whomever you are.
Dearest,
I write you this letter with a smile on my face. I think about how truly amazing you are. No matter how cliche it sounds, I think about your smile. I hope you smile often. Did you know that just by attempting to smile you automatically make yourself happier? So smile. You have a beautiful smile. Your teeth are placed just where they need to be. I know you think they're crooked, and dull..but they're perfect.
Speaking of perfect, your hands. I love your hands. Every mark, scuff and scar looks like it was placed on them by God Almighty. They're rough, dry and callused but that's because you work so hard. You work day and night for reasons maybe you only know. I hope those are good reasons.
You are so brilliant. You say you aren't very smart, or you don't know much, but you do. You have taught me so much about this world without even knowing it. Not having a degree doesn't make you stupid, and believe me, having a degree doesn't make you smart. You know far more than you think you do, and I hope you share that knowledge with those around you.
I love you. I know you might not love me, and that's fine, but I love you. If you don't love me, love someone, love something. I believe that not everyone on this earth has a soul mate, but I also believe that people can fall in love with things, not just beings. A person could fall in love with the way she or he feels after dancing, or running. Not necessarily a person right in front of their face.
If you do love someone, or something..love them like nothing else even matters. By that I mean, love it like you won't ever get to experience what you love again. Every time your experience that thing or person you love, tell them you love them. Remind yourself that you love it. Don't forget that you live for something in this world.
Do things alone. Go to a movie, listen to music, write something down, read a book. Develop opinions on your own. Those are yours and no one can take them from you. Remember to take a step back and breath, take yourself out of situations before they get too sticky to handle. There is no shame in looking out for yourself.
Part of loving someone, is the the full knowledge that you won't always have them. Couples break up every day, ever hour, every second of the day. You might, and probably will break up with or divorce someone that you love at someone that you love within your life time. If you marry someone for life they will die, you will die. You won't always have that person, and that person won't always have you. That's why you have to discover things on your own sometimes, even if it hurts. You have to prepare for your ship to sink, even though you work your hardest to keep it afloat.
Make a good best friend. Someone who is aware enough to not always laugh with you, but laugh at you. Someone who will keep you in check if you're being to egotistical or depriving yourself from worth. This friend will be your shoulder to cry on, and you in turn will be their's. They will get you through the thickest and the thinnest.
It pains me to think about the fact that you don't love yourself as you should. You don't understand how truly good you are. You don't realize how truly great, you are. Don't ever forget that you are smart, kind, patient, joyful, ridiculous, beautiful, but most importantly you.
YOU were placed on this earth to love others and for others to love. Make it easier on everyone by first loving what is you.
For you are the most important thing of your existence.
Remember that I love you,
Rachael
I've always wanted someone to send me flowers, but flowers die I suppose. But the thought of such a gesture is a good one, right? I've also wanted someone to write me a love letter. I used to get upset about the fact that I would probably never get one, but then I realized that in order to receive, one needs to give. So here is my love letter to you, whomever you are.
Dearest,
I write you this letter with a smile on my face. I think about how truly amazing you are. No matter how cliche it sounds, I think about your smile. I hope you smile often. Did you know that just by attempting to smile you automatically make yourself happier? So smile. You have a beautiful smile. Your teeth are placed just where they need to be. I know you think they're crooked, and dull..but they're perfect.
Speaking of perfect, your hands. I love your hands. Every mark, scuff and scar looks like it was placed on them by God Almighty. They're rough, dry and callused but that's because you work so hard. You work day and night for reasons maybe you only know. I hope those are good reasons.
You are so brilliant. You say you aren't very smart, or you don't know much, but you do. You have taught me so much about this world without even knowing it. Not having a degree doesn't make you stupid, and believe me, having a degree doesn't make you smart. You know far more than you think you do, and I hope you share that knowledge with those around you.
I love you. I know you might not love me, and that's fine, but I love you. If you don't love me, love someone, love something. I believe that not everyone on this earth has a soul mate, but I also believe that people can fall in love with things, not just beings. A person could fall in love with the way she or he feels after dancing, or running. Not necessarily a person right in front of their face.
If you do love someone, or something..love them like nothing else even matters. By that I mean, love it like you won't ever get to experience what you love again. Every time your experience that thing or person you love, tell them you love them. Remind yourself that you love it. Don't forget that you live for something in this world.
Do things alone. Go to a movie, listen to music, write something down, read a book. Develop opinions on your own. Those are yours and no one can take them from you. Remember to take a step back and breath, take yourself out of situations before they get too sticky to handle. There is no shame in looking out for yourself.
Part of loving someone, is the the full knowledge that you won't always have them. Couples break up every day, ever hour, every second of the day. You might, and probably will break up with or divorce someone that you love at someone that you love within your life time. If you marry someone for life they will die, you will die. You won't always have that person, and that person won't always have you. That's why you have to discover things on your own sometimes, even if it hurts. You have to prepare for your ship to sink, even though you work your hardest to keep it afloat.
Make a good best friend. Someone who is aware enough to not always laugh with you, but laugh at you. Someone who will keep you in check if you're being to egotistical or depriving yourself from worth. This friend will be your shoulder to cry on, and you in turn will be their's. They will get you through the thickest and the thinnest.
It pains me to think about the fact that you don't love yourself as you should. You don't understand how truly good you are. You don't realize how truly great, you are. Don't ever forget that you are smart, kind, patient, joyful, ridiculous, beautiful, but most importantly you.
YOU were placed on this earth to love others and for others to love. Make it easier on everyone by first loving what is you.
For you are the most important thing of your existence.
Remember that I love you,
Rachael
What Pretty Girls Look Like
After much debate, the jury is out. There is a verdict. Its true. The world, or at least me, has decided what pretty girls look like.
Pretty girls do not look like me. By that I don't mean thick, brown, frizzy haired girls, though.
Pretty girls have charisma. When a pretty girl walks into a room everyone else knows that she's there. When she walks up to the counter to order her soy latte, she cracks an awkward smile and fumbles in her purse for her money and the barista doesn't even mind that she has a complicated order. She has a spring in her step as she walks through the mall, in the work place. She occasionally adds a dance move here and there to impress her friends, but also because she's kind of a dork.
Pretty girls know how to smile. She doesn't really realize how beautiful her teeth, mouth and face in general are. She has acne, she has scars, she has freckles, she has moles and birthmarks but she works them. These markings look so natural, so beautiful, so right on their faces.
Pretty girls know how to speak. Some people have "ticks" that others find "annoying" or "weird". Pretty girls have "their way". She might say "um" a lot, she might bite her lip in between words, she might flare her nostrils. When she does it, it adds to the dialogue. It adds to her character. When she says anything, it could be that she puked for 2 hours straight last night due to Montezuma's Revenge, and people would still want to hear her, see her, be in her presence as she says these disgusting things.
Pretty girls know how to laugh. Pretty girls snort or bust a gut. No matter how obnoxious her laugh is, people still just looooove hearing it. Her laugh is was charges the room, and lightens the conversation. When she giggles she gets this weird look on her face, and people eat that shit up. She's gorgeous.
Pretty girls are confident. She knows how to get what she wants and when. She works day and night typing papers, bussing tables, writing policy. Not because she knows that it will get her ahead in life, but also because her actions benefit other people. She doesn't look for things, she finds them. Things to her are placed in the bed of her lap, not because she is spoiled, but because she deserves them. Maybe a romantic relationship..or a work promotion..something to be revered. She has spent her life knowing that she can and will accomplished all she needs, never denying her abilities.
Its common knowledge that I have a little money set aside for my inevitable plastic surgeries of the future, but I will never be a pretty girl. I do not have what it takes. It is within my consciousness to constantly judge and analyze every single little thing I do from going certain places with certain people to breathing. Its a problem, I'm aware.
But, just because I am not a pretty girl now, it doesn't mean that I can't become one someday. I can when and only when I change my ways, hold up my chin and do it. Just, do it. Without hesitation, without fear of looking or feeling stupid. Without judging myself, or fearing others judging me. It takes hard work and dedication to be a pretty girl, not just by staying well kept but by maintaining the mentality that MISTAKES WILL HAPPEN.
Everyone can be a pretty girl.
Pretty girls do not look like me. By that I don't mean thick, brown, frizzy haired girls, though.
Pretty girls have charisma. When a pretty girl walks into a room everyone else knows that she's there. When she walks up to the counter to order her soy latte, she cracks an awkward smile and fumbles in her purse for her money and the barista doesn't even mind that she has a complicated order. She has a spring in her step as she walks through the mall, in the work place. She occasionally adds a dance move here and there to impress her friends, but also because she's kind of a dork.
Pretty girls know how to smile. She doesn't really realize how beautiful her teeth, mouth and face in general are. She has acne, she has scars, she has freckles, she has moles and birthmarks but she works them. These markings look so natural, so beautiful, so right on their faces.
Pretty girls know how to speak. Some people have "ticks" that others find "annoying" or "weird". Pretty girls have "their way". She might say "um" a lot, she might bite her lip in between words, she might flare her nostrils. When she does it, it adds to the dialogue. It adds to her character. When she says anything, it could be that she puked for 2 hours straight last night due to Montezuma's Revenge, and people would still want to hear her, see her, be in her presence as she says these disgusting things.
Pretty girls know how to laugh. Pretty girls snort or bust a gut. No matter how obnoxious her laugh is, people still just looooove hearing it. Her laugh is was charges the room, and lightens the conversation. When she giggles she gets this weird look on her face, and people eat that shit up. She's gorgeous.
Pretty girls are confident. She knows how to get what she wants and when. She works day and night typing papers, bussing tables, writing policy. Not because she knows that it will get her ahead in life, but also because her actions benefit other people. She doesn't look for things, she finds them. Things to her are placed in the bed of her lap, not because she is spoiled, but because she deserves them. Maybe a romantic relationship..or a work promotion..something to be revered. She has spent her life knowing that she can and will accomplished all she needs, never denying her abilities.
Its common knowledge that I have a little money set aside for my inevitable plastic surgeries of the future, but I will never be a pretty girl. I do not have what it takes. It is within my consciousness to constantly judge and analyze every single little thing I do from going certain places with certain people to breathing. Its a problem, I'm aware.
But, just because I am not a pretty girl now, it doesn't mean that I can't become one someday. I can when and only when I change my ways, hold up my chin and do it. Just, do it. Without hesitation, without fear of looking or feeling stupid. Without judging myself, or fearing others judging me. It takes hard work and dedication to be a pretty girl, not just by staying well kept but by maintaining the mentality that MISTAKES WILL HAPPEN.
Everyone can be a pretty girl.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Single Girl Orgasms
There are many things I enjoy about being a single woman. The ability to check out as many men as I'd like, unlimited girl time, many many things. I have started to call these things "single girl orgasms" and I'd like to share a few with you.
For some strange reason, women in committed relationships seem to think that all single females are miserable, ugly, feminists that just aren't trying hard enough to find a companion. Well, I might be ugly and a feminist, but I'm certainly not miserable. I find indulgences in as many things as possible, putting these uppity ladies in their places.
Food: I used to hate food, and sometimes I still do. As a girl in a relationship, I would always be conscience of what I ate around the select male. Celery, cottage cheese and apple wedges were all I ever looked to. As a single girl, you could eat an entire tub of Ben&Jerry's and still feel AWESOME. In fact, it's encouraged. Eat that Cherry Garcia, EAT!
Movies: I can't tell you how many car chases, explosions and Megan Fox sex scenes I have unfortunately been exposed to. As a single girl, you know I be watchin' those Norah Ephron flicks! Crying when Julie Powell finds out that Julia Child hates her, laughing when Juno makes fun of Bleeker's mom. As a girl in a relationship, you're often put through a lot, and I mean a lot, of bad movies. As a single girl, you're also put through a lot of bad movies, but those usually include a shirtless heartthrob. See the difference?
Friends: When you're in a relationship, you often sacrifice time that used to be spent with your friends. It sucks. Your friends get pissed at you, you get pissed at your friends, you're often told by your boyfriend that having so many male friends makes him uncomfortable. Its a bad situation. Well, as a single girl you can be friends with whomever you want and spend unlimited time with them! This could include "date nights" with your best guy friends, sitcom marathons with your girls and unlimited pedicures with your friends' cool new nail polish.
Dancing: When you go to a dance or the club with your boyfriend, dancing is pretty limited. You're either forced to ram your booty on his junk all night or he only wants to dance to the slower songs. Let's be real...I live in the Midwest, most guys suck at dancing here. Not all, but most. When you're single, you can freak out and get your groove on in the weirdest of ways! You can do all of the cheesy dance moves, hop around from guy to guy on the dance floor or finally learn how to Bernie. You never experience having fun until you're flying free to Love Shack with a hot pink boa wrapped around you.
Now, now, relationships aren't always bad. They're nice when you're 89, on your death bed and have someone to carry away your buckets of urine. Until then, meaning from birth until age 88, you don't need that crap! Live your life how you want it, on your own terms. If you happen to find some idiot that aligns with those terms, I guess you could date or something dumb like that..but don't settle!
Eat unhealthy once in awhile, watch James Franco take his shirt of, read 50 Shades of Grey out loud to your girlfriends in a pillow fort you created in your apartment. ENJOY BEING SINGLE. Its something to be cherished.
For some strange reason, women in committed relationships seem to think that all single females are miserable, ugly, feminists that just aren't trying hard enough to find a companion. Well, I might be ugly and a feminist, but I'm certainly not miserable. I find indulgences in as many things as possible, putting these uppity ladies in their places.
Food: I used to hate food, and sometimes I still do. As a girl in a relationship, I would always be conscience of what I ate around the select male. Celery, cottage cheese and apple wedges were all I ever looked to. As a single girl, you could eat an entire tub of Ben&Jerry's and still feel AWESOME. In fact, it's encouraged. Eat that Cherry Garcia, EAT!
Movies: I can't tell you how many car chases, explosions and Megan Fox sex scenes I have unfortunately been exposed to. As a single girl, you know I be watchin' those Norah Ephron flicks! Crying when Julie Powell finds out that Julia Child hates her, laughing when Juno makes fun of Bleeker's mom. As a girl in a relationship, you're often put through a lot, and I mean a lot, of bad movies. As a single girl, you're also put through a lot of bad movies, but those usually include a shirtless heartthrob. See the difference?
Friends: When you're in a relationship, you often sacrifice time that used to be spent with your friends. It sucks. Your friends get pissed at you, you get pissed at your friends, you're often told by your boyfriend that having so many male friends makes him uncomfortable. Its a bad situation. Well, as a single girl you can be friends with whomever you want and spend unlimited time with them! This could include "date nights" with your best guy friends, sitcom marathons with your girls and unlimited pedicures with your friends' cool new nail polish.
Dancing: When you go to a dance or the club with your boyfriend, dancing is pretty limited. You're either forced to ram your booty on his junk all night or he only wants to dance to the slower songs. Let's be real...I live in the Midwest, most guys suck at dancing here. Not all, but most. When you're single, you can freak out and get your groove on in the weirdest of ways! You can do all of the cheesy dance moves, hop around from guy to guy on the dance floor or finally learn how to Bernie. You never experience having fun until you're flying free to Love Shack with a hot pink boa wrapped around you.
Now, now, relationships aren't always bad. They're nice when you're 89, on your death bed and have someone to carry away your buckets of urine. Until then, meaning from birth until age 88, you don't need that crap! Live your life how you want it, on your own terms. If you happen to find some idiot that aligns with those terms, I guess you could date or something dumb like that..but don't settle!
Eat unhealthy once in awhile, watch James Franco take his shirt of, read 50 Shades of Grey out loud to your girlfriends in a pillow fort you created in your apartment. ENJOY BEING SINGLE. Its something to be cherished.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Why I Love College
Let's be real...not everyone has a great time in high school. I did, sort of. I was popular..I was nice..I was on all the sports teams and in all the music ensembles and people generally liked me.
Even though I was in a sense, a "Golden Girl"..I never felt free. I felt eternally bound to the organizations and causes that were set out by students before me. I felt that I was walking along a path that had been tread many times before me, leading to a place that wasn't right for me.
So what did I do? I set out for the soft, pillowy, green grass. After graduation I decided to attend a university where no one from my home town had attended in almost 30 years. I arrived and I had never felt so different and so great! There were so many different cultures expressed as well as so many common resonances between students. I finally felt like I had arrived at an institution where others shared similar goals, but different aspirations for the future.
Okay, so this isn't the only reason I love college, I'm not that deep and philosophical. I also love college because in the midst of critical thinking and knowledge, there's almost a simplicity to the way people interact with each other.
Say you're in line at the dining center and you hear a fellow student exclaim that Nutella has been set out! Even though you want to trample over everyone like a ravenous, zombie buffalo, you all share a common moment of 'eureka'. Your head shoots up and a smile crosses your face and the faces of those around you. It doesn't matter what you look like, what your interests are, all you care about is hazelnut, cocoa goodness on your plate and in your belly.
This brings me to the next subject, JUNK FOOD. I grew up thinking that snacks were Saltines, almonds and granola bars. Well guess what, universe: I still ended up fat. I eat balanced meals every day to sustain my energy for my mounds of work and homework, but I love to indulge in some good old artery clogging crap. At college, you can eat whatever you want! Ice cream for breakfast, breakfast for lunch, and a bowl of meatballs for dinner if you want to! Its the best.
Another thing that is awesome is unlimited TV watching. Cable television shows the worst and best of today's culture. The best meaning the daily marathons of one of my favorite shows Everybody Loves Raymond, which I indulge in every day and the worst being the countless small claims court shows and soap operas. Don't forget that since you're in college you are also exposed to all of the terrible soap operas IN SPANISH. My friends and try to do brain stimulating activities with these programs, such as doing a "translation" of what they're saying. "Translation" meaning: making up random shit.
Hot dudes. There are so many hot dudes at college. If you recall a previous post on this blog discussing my fear of men, you'll remember that I am deathly afraid of dudes but I looooove looking at them. In high school, there was a slim picking of young men that were attractive as well as intelligent. In college, THEY'RE EVERYWHERE. There's every flavor, type, personality, large quantities...its like Sam's Club...but hot dudes..
Oh College, how I love thee. I love the amount of school spirit, the sense of community, and the attractive people. I can't believe I have 2 and a half more years to experience its greatness, but at the same time I only have 2 and a half more years. I have grown up so much in the past 18 months I can't believe its even possible. College, I love you.
Even though I was in a sense, a "Golden Girl"..I never felt free. I felt eternally bound to the organizations and causes that were set out by students before me. I felt that I was walking along a path that had been tread many times before me, leading to a place that wasn't right for me.
So what did I do? I set out for the soft, pillowy, green grass. After graduation I decided to attend a university where no one from my home town had attended in almost 30 years. I arrived and I had never felt so different and so great! There were so many different cultures expressed as well as so many common resonances between students. I finally felt like I had arrived at an institution where others shared similar goals, but different aspirations for the future.
Okay, so this isn't the only reason I love college, I'm not that deep and philosophical. I also love college because in the midst of critical thinking and knowledge, there's almost a simplicity to the way people interact with each other.
Say you're in line at the dining center and you hear a fellow student exclaim that Nutella has been set out! Even though you want to trample over everyone like a ravenous, zombie buffalo, you all share a common moment of 'eureka'. Your head shoots up and a smile crosses your face and the faces of those around you. It doesn't matter what you look like, what your interests are, all you care about is hazelnut, cocoa goodness on your plate and in your belly.
This brings me to the next subject, JUNK FOOD. I grew up thinking that snacks were Saltines, almonds and granola bars. Well guess what, universe: I still ended up fat. I eat balanced meals every day to sustain my energy for my mounds of work and homework, but I love to indulge in some good old artery clogging crap. At college, you can eat whatever you want! Ice cream for breakfast, breakfast for lunch, and a bowl of meatballs for dinner if you want to! Its the best.
Another thing that is awesome is unlimited TV watching. Cable television shows the worst and best of today's culture. The best meaning the daily marathons of one of my favorite shows Everybody Loves Raymond, which I indulge in every day and the worst being the countless small claims court shows and soap operas. Don't forget that since you're in college you are also exposed to all of the terrible soap operas IN SPANISH. My friends and try to do brain stimulating activities with these programs, such as doing a "translation" of what they're saying. "Translation" meaning: making up random shit.
Hot dudes. There are so many hot dudes at college. If you recall a previous post on this blog discussing my fear of men, you'll remember that I am deathly afraid of dudes but I looooove looking at them. In high school, there was a slim picking of young men that were attractive as well as intelligent. In college, THEY'RE EVERYWHERE. There's every flavor, type, personality, large quantities...its like Sam's Club...but hot dudes..
Oh College, how I love thee. I love the amount of school spirit, the sense of community, and the attractive people. I can't believe I have 2 and a half more years to experience its greatness, but at the same time I only have 2 and a half more years. I have grown up so much in the past 18 months I can't believe its even possible. College, I love you.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
10 Things That Will Make You Feel Like A More Liberated Individual
We live in a world where it feels like you're going to end up being a conformist no matter what you do. You wake up in the morning, take a shower (hopefully), sip your morning beverage, come home and indulge yourself deep into a series on Netflix. You're stressed out, tired, you don't understand how your Facebook friends seem to be living carefree lives of constantly doing cool stuff and taking Instagram photos in sparkly bikinis. You're beat down, plum tired of the daily shuffle.
Even though you're working to nail your own coffin together, so to speak, there are several things that you can do to make yourself feel more bad ass, even if you're nothing close to bad assery like myself. Indulge in these things, make them your own, suggest them to our fellow wimps of the world.
10) Go Commando For A Day: Take those panties off! No matter if they're a thong, boxers or boy shorts, get them outta here. You might feel awesome, and you might feel dirty, either way you're cheating the system. Sit at your desk and think about how no one knows you're baring all underneath your khakis. Only fabric is between you and mooning your boss. You'll feel great!
9) Quote Your Favorite TV Show All Day: Challenge yourself by only saying things that were said on your favorite TV show, web series, movie, etc. You've seen every scene, every episode at least 10 times, you can do it! The quotes can range from funny, dramatic, or just plain stupid! Its the principle of the thing is what matters.
8) Laugh At Bitches: Everyone has a girl that they can't stand. This girl is either really attractive or really mean, or both. Not to condone cyber bullying, but a way to make yourself feel less intimidated by them is to go through their Facebook photos, find the most awkward one, and have yourself a good 'ole chuckle. Count how many disgusting PicNick-ed or Photoshopped boyfriend pics they have, or look at pictures of them back when they first got Facebook. It's truly rewarding.
7) Mimic Someone: Personally, I would choose someone that I know very well. While they are telling you a story or asking you a question, try and say everything they're saying AT THE EXACT SAME TIME. The key to this funny prank is watching the lips of the person you're speaking to. He or she will eventually become frustrated and you will have quite a laugh!!!
6) Go To A Restaurant Just for apps' and 'serts: My best friend and I often go to a restaurant hot spot and get appetizers and desserts. Why not? Usually you spend all of your time worrying about a main entree, why not pay some attention to these menus? So delicious, so sinful, so worth it.
5) Pretend To Know Spanish: You know you haven't spoken Spanish since your Junior year of high school. For some reason, people seem to get really turned on when they hear people speaking it though! Say random words that you remember from your class like zapatos, primavera, legchuga. You will have many eating out of the palm of your hands, especially when you're brownish like me and people think its real.
4) Yell Out Lyrics to Your Favorite Song: Whether you're at the club, in your room or in your car, it always feels good just to scream sometimes. I'm a person who has a lot of pent up emotion and releases it awkwardly through acts of self deprecating anger. Instead of shredding your jeans that you've gotten too fat for with your teeth, sit alone in a place where hopefully no one can hear you. Scream your guts out, not literally that would be gross, but just take advantage of the moment and make a whole scene out of the act. You will feel so much better, trust me.
3) Buy Someone A Present: It doesn't matter who its for, your mom, roommate, significant other (gross), but just buy an important person in your life a gift. How awesome does it feel when you purchase or make if you're super creative, present. The look on that person's face is priceless. I call that look the "it" look. I imagine that's what love looks like when someone completely loves you unconditionally. Make someone feel loved and you might even get loved back.
2) Read: My parents both are avid readers and I attribute them with my love and skills for reading. My mother always told me that if I wanted to become smarter I should read everything, every book I laid my hands on, every piece of literature that flew my way. Look up best sellers, classics, or have a friend recommend a good novel to you. Reading is a great way to relax and learn new things.
1) Have Faith: Whether its in a religious figure, humanity, yourself, whatever. Just believe in something being good. If you go through life thinking everything is evil or no good you might become jaded and just go through the motions of life with no purpose. Having faith in something doesn't mean that you have to be religious. As I mentioned earlier, it doesn't matter what it's in, just treat others with respect, LOVE YOURSELF and serve your neighbor willingly.
Congratulations, grasshopper. You are now liberated.
Even though you're working to nail your own coffin together, so to speak, there are several things that you can do to make yourself feel more bad ass, even if you're nothing close to bad assery like myself. Indulge in these things, make them your own, suggest them to our fellow wimps of the world.
10) Go Commando For A Day: Take those panties off! No matter if they're a thong, boxers or boy shorts, get them outta here. You might feel awesome, and you might feel dirty, either way you're cheating the system. Sit at your desk and think about how no one knows you're baring all underneath your khakis. Only fabric is between you and mooning your boss. You'll feel great!
9) Quote Your Favorite TV Show All Day: Challenge yourself by only saying things that were said on your favorite TV show, web series, movie, etc. You've seen every scene, every episode at least 10 times, you can do it! The quotes can range from funny, dramatic, or just plain stupid! Its the principle of the thing is what matters.
8) Laugh At Bitches: Everyone has a girl that they can't stand. This girl is either really attractive or really mean, or both. Not to condone cyber bullying, but a way to make yourself feel less intimidated by them is to go through their Facebook photos, find the most awkward one, and have yourself a good 'ole chuckle. Count how many disgusting PicNick-ed or Photoshopped boyfriend pics they have, or look at pictures of them back when they first got Facebook. It's truly rewarding.
7) Mimic Someone: Personally, I would choose someone that I know very well. While they are telling you a story or asking you a question, try and say everything they're saying AT THE EXACT SAME TIME. The key to this funny prank is watching the lips of the person you're speaking to. He or she will eventually become frustrated and you will have quite a laugh!!!
6) Go To A Restaurant Just for apps' and 'serts: My best friend and I often go to a restaurant hot spot and get appetizers and desserts. Why not? Usually you spend all of your time worrying about a main entree, why not pay some attention to these menus? So delicious, so sinful, so worth it.
5) Pretend To Know Spanish: You know you haven't spoken Spanish since your Junior year of high school. For some reason, people seem to get really turned on when they hear people speaking it though! Say random words that you remember from your class like zapatos, primavera, legchuga. You will have many eating out of the palm of your hands, especially when you're brownish like me and people think its real.
4) Yell Out Lyrics to Your Favorite Song: Whether you're at the club, in your room or in your car, it always feels good just to scream sometimes. I'm a person who has a lot of pent up emotion and releases it awkwardly through acts of self deprecating anger. Instead of shredding your jeans that you've gotten too fat for with your teeth, sit alone in a place where hopefully no one can hear you. Scream your guts out, not literally that would be gross, but just take advantage of the moment and make a whole scene out of the act. You will feel so much better, trust me.
3) Buy Someone A Present: It doesn't matter who its for, your mom, roommate, significant other (gross), but just buy an important person in your life a gift. How awesome does it feel when you purchase or make if you're super creative, present. The look on that person's face is priceless. I call that look the "it" look. I imagine that's what love looks like when someone completely loves you unconditionally. Make someone feel loved and you might even get loved back.
2) Read: My parents both are avid readers and I attribute them with my love and skills for reading. My mother always told me that if I wanted to become smarter I should read everything, every book I laid my hands on, every piece of literature that flew my way. Look up best sellers, classics, or have a friend recommend a good novel to you. Reading is a great way to relax and learn new things.
1) Have Faith: Whether its in a religious figure, humanity, yourself, whatever. Just believe in something being good. If you go through life thinking everything is evil or no good you might become jaded and just go through the motions of life with no purpose. Having faith in something doesn't mean that you have to be religious. As I mentioned earlier, it doesn't matter what it's in, just treat others with respect, LOVE YOURSELF and serve your neighbor willingly.
Congratulations, grasshopper. You are now liberated.
Friday, July 27, 2012
If I Ever Fall In Love...
Let's be honest, a girl like me will never fall in love. I mean, I've loved men before, and men have said they love me but I'm pretty sure six months of cheating with a phone call breakup isn't love, and trying to brainwash me into thinking a certain way of life is better than another isn't exactly romantic. So there has been this mutual attraction between myself and a guy, but I don't think love is the right term.
I have this horrible habit that many girls my age might have. I'm sure I'm not the only person that has put their emotions out on a limb, only to have their heart strings severed by a chainsaw. When I was in high school, I crushed so hard. Boys that were nice, smart and looked dashing in khaki pants always seemed to be who I went after. He was always the popular boy, the boy that could get any girl he wanted to, but was too focused on his physics homework or an upcoming football game to really care, or didn't understand what a gem he really was. Realistically, an unattractive, bossy bitch like myself could never get with this guy, but I listened to too many girl power songs, convincing myself that guys like him love that shit. They don't. This boy always ended up with a really pretty friend of mine, or a girl from a different school whose name was on the lips of my schoolmates for weeks.
In college, or as of yet, I have given up on crushes. I have been let down too many times by boys I thought might be worth my time and reciprocate my feelings. Every time I see a man remotely attractive, I literally run away. Some people are afraid of snakes, spiders or sharks, but my biggest fear and phobia is attractive men. You might think I'm joking, but I'm really not. Here's an example...
One time I was sitting in the library all alone minding my own business, studying for an upcoming Chinese quiz. Up the stairs comes this handsome young man in khaki shorts, V-neck and fleece jacket. He has just the right amount of stubble and dark, manly features. The dude is fine. So he edges closer to my table, there is a table of hockey players on my right and an empty table to my left, and the hottie sits right smack dab next to me. My eyes widen, and I'm pretty sure they did one of those Bugs Bunny pop out of my head things. I picked up my BlackBerry (RIP), pretended like someone texted me, grabbed my stuff and left.
See what I mean? I'm a complete and utter chicken. If I ever get over my fear, which is really unlikely, or I ever become attractive enough to be lovable, even more unlikely, this is how I hope it will go down..
I'm 26. I'm living in Santa Monica and I work in downtown Los Angeles, representing NBC Universal as one of their staff attorneys. I wear really cool outfits and have been listed in Forbes "Most Successful Under 30" lists for a record number of years. I have an office that looks over the city and it was rumored that I had a professional relationship with Andy Samberg for a few months.
My boss brings me into her office, notice how I said her. This is the 21st century. Anyway, she brings me into her office and she tells me I need to go to Miami for a reception for Brian Williams's retirement party. Brian and I are close friends, and he mentored me during my God awful few months working in New York. I anxiously leap at the chance and pack my things. Fast forward to the party.
I'm at the Hilton-Miami. I'm wearing my hair back in a loose braid, with a few curls hanging down around my forehead, nude Mary Jane's and a knee length Ralph Lauren dress, on top it's empire waist, navy with small coral polka dots and the skirt is aqua. A string of pearls grace my neck, matching my signature pearl earrings. In my left hand I'm carrying a beige Chanel clutch. Brian hasn't arrived yet and I make my way from the bar to a table, I bump into Anne Curry and we get into a great discussion on foreign policy and the achievement gap when Oprah runs into me, she joins our conversation when I see him.
His name, something classy like Mark or Todd. He's wearing tweed. Momma raised a girl who loves a man in tweed. A light olive button down, sleeves rolled up, skinny black tie and grey trousers. He's about 6'5. He is gorgeous. Oprah squeezes my elbow as I eye him down, nibbling my hot pink straw in the process.
Oprah introduces us. Mark or Todd works as one of the company's lead financial consultants, he manages the budgets for all Greg Daniels television shows exclusively. He grew up in a small town outside of Baltimore. He has that sexy East Coast accent, but as soon as he says the "o" vowel, I know he's spent time in the Midwest. When I ask him about it, he bashfully tells me that he spent his summers working on his aunt and uncle's sheep farm in eastern Montana. Oprah and Anne leave, but neither of us really notice. We talk about how much we love Jason Reitman movies and how our favorite books are either historical biographies/narratives or goofy happy-go-lucky feel good books like Mindy Kaling's Is Everybody Hanging Out With Me. We talk about baseball and how much we both love the game, and how the private university system really did us right.
He's perfect. After two years of courtship, we get married at Cape Cod. I walk down the white vintage rug placed on the sand to the arch made of driftwood, still wearing my pearls. All of my bridesmaids looking gorgeous as usual in their coral dresses. My father's elbow in my left hand, my mom and I with laced fingers in my other, I walk down to my soon-to-be husband in his grey suit, smiling. After readings from close friends, family and Ellen DeGeneres we're officially husband and wife. We spend the night in the bottom of a light house dancing to our heart's desire. The next week, we fly to Capetown and spend our time in luxury and safari with the Mandela family.
After a year of marriage, I give birth to our beautiful twins, Giada Barbara and Grant Ronald. Like their father and myself, they spend their school year in sports and extracurricular activities and their summers working on the farm. We have family vacations with the Kardashian-Jenners and dinners with Ina Garten.
Our life isn't perfect, but its good. We eventually retire to Boston in the company of my parents and his family.
A dream is a dream is a dream.
I have this horrible habit that many girls my age might have. I'm sure I'm not the only person that has put their emotions out on a limb, only to have their heart strings severed by a chainsaw. When I was in high school, I crushed so hard. Boys that were nice, smart and looked dashing in khaki pants always seemed to be who I went after. He was always the popular boy, the boy that could get any girl he wanted to, but was too focused on his physics homework or an upcoming football game to really care, or didn't understand what a gem he really was. Realistically, an unattractive, bossy bitch like myself could never get with this guy, but I listened to too many girl power songs, convincing myself that guys like him love that shit. They don't. This boy always ended up with a really pretty friend of mine, or a girl from a different school whose name was on the lips of my schoolmates for weeks.
In college, or as of yet, I have given up on crushes. I have been let down too many times by boys I thought might be worth my time and reciprocate my feelings. Every time I see a man remotely attractive, I literally run away. Some people are afraid of snakes, spiders or sharks, but my biggest fear and phobia is attractive men. You might think I'm joking, but I'm really not. Here's an example...
One time I was sitting in the library all alone minding my own business, studying for an upcoming Chinese quiz. Up the stairs comes this handsome young man in khaki shorts, V-neck and fleece jacket. He has just the right amount of stubble and dark, manly features. The dude is fine. So he edges closer to my table, there is a table of hockey players on my right and an empty table to my left, and the hottie sits right smack dab next to me. My eyes widen, and I'm pretty sure they did one of those Bugs Bunny pop out of my head things. I picked up my BlackBerry (RIP), pretended like someone texted me, grabbed my stuff and left.
See what I mean? I'm a complete and utter chicken. If I ever get over my fear, which is really unlikely, or I ever become attractive enough to be lovable, even more unlikely, this is how I hope it will go down..
I'm 26. I'm living in Santa Monica and I work in downtown Los Angeles, representing NBC Universal as one of their staff attorneys. I wear really cool outfits and have been listed in Forbes "Most Successful Under 30" lists for a record number of years. I have an office that looks over the city and it was rumored that I had a professional relationship with Andy Samberg for a few months.
My boss brings me into her office, notice how I said her. This is the 21st century. Anyway, she brings me into her office and she tells me I need to go to Miami for a reception for Brian Williams's retirement party. Brian and I are close friends, and he mentored me during my God awful few months working in New York. I anxiously leap at the chance and pack my things. Fast forward to the party.
I'm at the Hilton-Miami. I'm wearing my hair back in a loose braid, with a few curls hanging down around my forehead, nude Mary Jane's and a knee length Ralph Lauren dress, on top it's empire waist, navy with small coral polka dots and the skirt is aqua. A string of pearls grace my neck, matching my signature pearl earrings. In my left hand I'm carrying a beige Chanel clutch. Brian hasn't arrived yet and I make my way from the bar to a table, I bump into Anne Curry and we get into a great discussion on foreign policy and the achievement gap when Oprah runs into me, she joins our conversation when I see him.
His name, something classy like Mark or Todd. He's wearing tweed. Momma raised a girl who loves a man in tweed. A light olive button down, sleeves rolled up, skinny black tie and grey trousers. He's about 6'5. He is gorgeous. Oprah squeezes my elbow as I eye him down, nibbling my hot pink straw in the process.
Oprah introduces us. Mark or Todd works as one of the company's lead financial consultants, he manages the budgets for all Greg Daniels television shows exclusively. He grew up in a small town outside of Baltimore. He has that sexy East Coast accent, but as soon as he says the "o" vowel, I know he's spent time in the Midwest. When I ask him about it, he bashfully tells me that he spent his summers working on his aunt and uncle's sheep farm in eastern Montana. Oprah and Anne leave, but neither of us really notice. We talk about how much we love Jason Reitman movies and how our favorite books are either historical biographies/narratives or goofy happy-go-lucky feel good books like Mindy Kaling's Is Everybody Hanging Out With Me. We talk about baseball and how much we both love the game, and how the private university system really did us right.
He's perfect. After two years of courtship, we get married at Cape Cod. I walk down the white vintage rug placed on the sand to the arch made of driftwood, still wearing my pearls. All of my bridesmaids looking gorgeous as usual in their coral dresses. My father's elbow in my left hand, my mom and I with laced fingers in my other, I walk down to my soon-to-be husband in his grey suit, smiling. After readings from close friends, family and Ellen DeGeneres we're officially husband and wife. We spend the night in the bottom of a light house dancing to our heart's desire. The next week, we fly to Capetown and spend our time in luxury and safari with the Mandela family.
After a year of marriage, I give birth to our beautiful twins, Giada Barbara and Grant Ronald. Like their father and myself, they spend their school year in sports and extracurricular activities and their summers working on the farm. We have family vacations with the Kardashian-Jenners and dinners with Ina Garten.
Our life isn't perfect, but its good. We eventually retire to Boston in the company of my parents and his family.
A dream is a dream is a dream.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Celebrity Crushes
Every human being has a celebrity crush. Whether you're married, straight, gay, old, young, I guarantee that there is one movie star that you swoon over every time you see he or she cross the television screen or appear on the cover of a magazine. I am a hard crush-er and I have had several silver screen loves over the years.
The first celebrity crush that I recall was my love for Elvis Presley when I was about 3-4 years old. I was familiar with his music, but even more familiar with his sleek wardrobe and killer smile. I remember seeing photos or video of him on TV and I would imagine him as more of a playmate than boyfriend, granted I was still a tot. Since I was a child of the 90's I had no idea that Elvis was dead, but I didn't care. That guy on TV was cute.
I slowly got over Elvis and moved on to a man closer to my age. He looked dashing in green and really knew how to, "wag his tail,". Yep, I'm talking about Steve from Blues Clues. He was so energetic, so smooth, so good at solving mysteries. As I assembled my stuffed animals and Barbies next to me to watch Steve and Blue rock my world with songs and mail, I secretly wished that the 26 year old playing an 8 year old was sitting next to me...
I'm sure I had a love in between, but I remember my next significant crush was on singer/song writer Ryan Cabrera when I was about 12. I remember being in my 6th grade word processing class and secretly Googling photos of him and commenting on his fan site. My love for him was probably the strongest of all of these crushes. I remember his album Take it All Away like the back of my hand. I was one of those dorky girls that imagined that I could relate to ever song, and it felt like every cord, every string he struck for me. ME, an overweight, glasses wearing 12 year old. I cut up the album artwork of that CD and plastered it all over my desk in my bedroom. When I go home, I still see his scrawny legs and spiky hair.
These days, I still have a crush or two, but it was nothing like my admiration of the past. I am addicted to the Aussie accent, bod and overall presence of Chris Hemsworth in today's society. I even went as for to dress as Thor at a conference I was at a couple weeks back. I also love, love, LOVE Robert Kardashian Jr. My friends always judge me because I have a tendency to tweet at him periodically, but you know what? WHO CARES.
I miss those days of shameless crushes on the unattainable. Kate Middleton once had a shameless crush on a boy, THEN SHE BECAME A FREAKING PRINCESS. Granted, Kate Middleton is extremely attractive, but still, her dreams came true. I can love George Clooney, Zach Galifinakis and all those glamorous movie stars if I want to. In fact, is love for them more rewarding because they never have the opportunity to let you down?
In any state, our love for these men and women will live on, even if it is between the pages of US Magazine and E! The True Hollywood Story. We love you stars, we love you.
The first celebrity crush that I recall was my love for Elvis Presley when I was about 3-4 years old. I was familiar with his music, but even more familiar with his sleek wardrobe and killer smile. I remember seeing photos or video of him on TV and I would imagine him as more of a playmate than boyfriend, granted I was still a tot. Since I was a child of the 90's I had no idea that Elvis was dead, but I didn't care. That guy on TV was cute.
I slowly got over Elvis and moved on to a man closer to my age. He looked dashing in green and really knew how to, "wag his tail,". Yep, I'm talking about Steve from Blues Clues. He was so energetic, so smooth, so good at solving mysteries. As I assembled my stuffed animals and Barbies next to me to watch Steve and Blue rock my world with songs and mail, I secretly wished that the 26 year old playing an 8 year old was sitting next to me...
I'm sure I had a love in between, but I remember my next significant crush was on singer/song writer Ryan Cabrera when I was about 12. I remember being in my 6th grade word processing class and secretly Googling photos of him and commenting on his fan site. My love for him was probably the strongest of all of these crushes. I remember his album Take it All Away like the back of my hand. I was one of those dorky girls that imagined that I could relate to ever song, and it felt like every cord, every string he struck for me. ME, an overweight, glasses wearing 12 year old. I cut up the album artwork of that CD and plastered it all over my desk in my bedroom. When I go home, I still see his scrawny legs and spiky hair.
These days, I still have a crush or two, but it was nothing like my admiration of the past. I am addicted to the Aussie accent, bod and overall presence of Chris Hemsworth in today's society. I even went as for to dress as Thor at a conference I was at a couple weeks back. I also love, love, LOVE Robert Kardashian Jr. My friends always judge me because I have a tendency to tweet at him periodically, but you know what? WHO CARES.
I miss those days of shameless crushes on the unattainable. Kate Middleton once had a shameless crush on a boy, THEN SHE BECAME A FREAKING PRINCESS. Granted, Kate Middleton is extremely attractive, but still, her dreams came true. I can love George Clooney, Zach Galifinakis and all those glamorous movie stars if I want to. In fact, is love for them more rewarding because they never have the opportunity to let you down?
In any state, our love for these men and women will live on, even if it is between the pages of US Magazine and E! The True Hollywood Story. We love you stars, we love you.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
I Hate Couples
Its true. I hate couples with a passion. I might sound bitter, but I don't care! This is my blog!
Okay, so I'll tone it down just a little bit. I don't hate couples completely but I do dislike a lot of them. I love that chill couple that isn't too touchy feely when they're around you, but they occasionally hold hands at a baseball game or have a quick peck when waiting in line at a restaurant. The couples that you don't feel like a total third wheel tagging around with, those are the couples I love.
Everyone else can go jump off of something. I have developed a scale, its almost to the point of being a science in fact. I have coined a few categories that I would like to share with you.
1) The Facebook Couple: Don't lie to yourself, you know you have some of these people on your friend list. They were probably people that you went to high school with that you just haven't deleted yet, but you like to keep them around because they add some free entertainment to your life. Its almost like a car accident or water birth, really disgusting and bloody, but you just can't look away because you might miss something. When these couples are together, there's AT LEAST 5 Instagram/Facebook/Twitter updates. When they're at their significant other's place, they might check into "My Baby's Lap" or "Huggy Bear's House" or something nasty like that. When a couple like this is fighting you'll definitely see some, "I just can't handle him right now", or "She's the only one for me..but it just hurts so much" or the classic, "[Insert Song Lyric Here] this reminds me of you... </3". And when they're happy, "2 Day anniversary wit my country boii [Insert anniversary date here] <3 <3 <3 <3 <3". PUKE. You do realize EVERYONE can read this right?
2) The Supermarket Couple: You know, you're just trying to get your milk and "accidentally" slip some Dove chocolates into your cart for a night alone, crying while watching Forney hold Americus for the first time in Where the Heart Is..that might just be me..anyway.. You're minding your own business, checking out the hot guys that might actually know how to cook for themselves when you run into that dreaded road block. That hot blonde girl who looks amazing in yoga pants and a compression tank top holding hands with a Liam Hemsworth look alike. Not only are you thinking, "Damn, I have no chance in hell at dating ever again", but you're also PISSED that you can't get through them. These two likely are carrying baskets instead of a cart because it increases resistance on their perfect forearms because they're just health freaks like that. They are likely walking really far apart from each other and traveling at approximately -5 MPH. You are a single woman! You have junk food to eat and rom coms to watch! Even though you so desperately want to tear them apart with one swift push of your cart, you just sit back and let your blood boil. Keeping Up With the Kardashians will just have to wait a few extra minutes..
3) The Perfect Couple: This one I might hate the most. You know that friend you have, that really isn't your friend, but you were friends in the past and he or she ended up just being a total jerk? Well, he or she is dating "the love of their life" and you never hear the end of it. He might have done her laundry for her, because "even though he didn't want me to go, he supports me". She might have made a sandwich for him because "she understands my delicate stomach". Bottom line, both parties are conceited attention hogs that just want to rub it in the pathetic, single girl or guy's face that they found their soul mate. Talk about annoying. Even more annoying than that, these couples do this thing called, "supporting" each other. Apparently, the man in the relationship wants to have 5 kids, but is okay with their no less than straight shooting children to have a "working mother". Trust me, no one with 5 kids is a working mother right off the bat, so I call your bull, sirs.
4) The PDA Couple: If you're anything like me, you're already gagging thinking about these two. This couple always finds the not so perfect spot to make out, or just be disgusting. Let's say that you're going to see Rock of Ages by yourself. Your best friends are out of town and you've been wanting to see it since the rumor of it hitting theaters. You're right in the middle of Catherine Zeta Jones singing Hit Me With Your Best Shot, when you see these idiots sucking face. Not only just sucking face, but there is visible tongue involved and its noisier than the 13 year old obese boy trying to breath and guzzle down his Mountain Dew at the same time. Have some decency people. Or, let's say you're going to scope out the latest sale at Gap, when you lay eyes on the prettiest mint green cardigan you ever did see! You hustle your bustle to snag that deal off the rack when you're cut off by the McFeelyUppers, Grasping places that should not be grasped with the lights on outside of the bedroom. I don't understand these people, are you homeless?
5) The Overly Emotional Fights In Public Couple: These couples are a little tricky, they range in age, size and can attack at any second. They usually start out as one of the previous dreaded couples, then magically transform into this one. Imagine you're sitting quietly reading 50 Shades of Grey on your tablet, because you didn't want to carry it around with you..embarrassing, in the depths of a comfy chair somewhere hip that you'd been meaning to go for awhile. All of a sudden, just as soon as Christian Grey is about to spew his feelings, when you hear, "YOU TEXTED WHO?!?!"..a frightening red headed woman jumps up and yells at her beany and gage clad boyfriend. There is a hush across the room, and you were almost to the climax! (literally). This couple goes on for another 5 minutes until a mousy teenage boy employee mumbles to them that they should try to keep it down. And on and on it goes until they throw each other across the table and turn back into the PDA couple. I hate whoever coined the phrase "Make Up and Make Out".
So there you have it folks, my views on relationships. They're sticky, gross and over romanticized by today's media, kind of like high fructose corn syrup. If you're in love, that's great. Please strive to be one of those couples that people want to be around, not one that I might "accidentally" trip while on my next visit to the Grand Canyon. And if you're a sour tramp like myself, let's clink our mugs of tea together, pick up knitting for a month or so before we get bored and compare ourselves to Liz Lemon. Forever alone just got glamorous. Haha, no it really didn't.
Okay, so I'll tone it down just a little bit. I don't hate couples completely but I do dislike a lot of them. I love that chill couple that isn't too touchy feely when they're around you, but they occasionally hold hands at a baseball game or have a quick peck when waiting in line at a restaurant. The couples that you don't feel like a total third wheel tagging around with, those are the couples I love.
Everyone else can go jump off of something. I have developed a scale, its almost to the point of being a science in fact. I have coined a few categories that I would like to share with you.
1) The Facebook Couple: Don't lie to yourself, you know you have some of these people on your friend list. They were probably people that you went to high school with that you just haven't deleted yet, but you like to keep them around because they add some free entertainment to your life. Its almost like a car accident or water birth, really disgusting and bloody, but you just can't look away because you might miss something. When these couples are together, there's AT LEAST 5 Instagram/Facebook/Twitter updates. When they're at their significant other's place, they might check into "My Baby's Lap" or "Huggy Bear's House" or something nasty like that. When a couple like this is fighting you'll definitely see some, "I just can't handle him right now", or "She's the only one for me..but it just hurts so much" or the classic, "[Insert Song Lyric Here] this reminds me of you... </3". And when they're happy, "2 Day anniversary wit my country boii [Insert anniversary date here] <3 <3 <3 <3 <3". PUKE. You do realize EVERYONE can read this right?
2) The Supermarket Couple: You know, you're just trying to get your milk and "accidentally" slip some Dove chocolates into your cart for a night alone, crying while watching Forney hold Americus for the first time in Where the Heart Is..that might just be me..anyway.. You're minding your own business, checking out the hot guys that might actually know how to cook for themselves when you run into that dreaded road block. That hot blonde girl who looks amazing in yoga pants and a compression tank top holding hands with a Liam Hemsworth look alike. Not only are you thinking, "Damn, I have no chance in hell at dating ever again", but you're also PISSED that you can't get through them. These two likely are carrying baskets instead of a cart because it increases resistance on their perfect forearms because they're just health freaks like that. They are likely walking really far apart from each other and traveling at approximately -5 MPH. You are a single woman! You have junk food to eat and rom coms to watch! Even though you so desperately want to tear them apart with one swift push of your cart, you just sit back and let your blood boil. Keeping Up With the Kardashians will just have to wait a few extra minutes..
3) The Perfect Couple: This one I might hate the most. You know that friend you have, that really isn't your friend, but you were friends in the past and he or she ended up just being a total jerk? Well, he or she is dating "the love of their life" and you never hear the end of it. He might have done her laundry for her, because "even though he didn't want me to go, he supports me". She might have made a sandwich for him because "she understands my delicate stomach". Bottom line, both parties are conceited attention hogs that just want to rub it in the pathetic, single girl or guy's face that they found their soul mate. Talk about annoying. Even more annoying than that, these couples do this thing called, "supporting" each other. Apparently, the man in the relationship wants to have 5 kids, but is okay with their no less than straight shooting children to have a "working mother". Trust me, no one with 5 kids is a working mother right off the bat, so I call your bull, sirs.
4) The PDA Couple: If you're anything like me, you're already gagging thinking about these two. This couple always finds the not so perfect spot to make out, or just be disgusting. Let's say that you're going to see Rock of Ages by yourself. Your best friends are out of town and you've been wanting to see it since the rumor of it hitting theaters. You're right in the middle of Catherine Zeta Jones singing Hit Me With Your Best Shot, when you see these idiots sucking face. Not only just sucking face, but there is visible tongue involved and its noisier than the 13 year old obese boy trying to breath and guzzle down his Mountain Dew at the same time. Have some decency people. Or, let's say you're going to scope out the latest sale at Gap, when you lay eyes on the prettiest mint green cardigan you ever did see! You hustle your bustle to snag that deal off the rack when you're cut off by the McFeelyUppers, Grasping places that should not be grasped with the lights on outside of the bedroom. I don't understand these people, are you homeless?
5) The Overly Emotional Fights In Public Couple: These couples are a little tricky, they range in age, size and can attack at any second. They usually start out as one of the previous dreaded couples, then magically transform into this one. Imagine you're sitting quietly reading 50 Shades of Grey on your tablet, because you didn't want to carry it around with you..embarrassing, in the depths of a comfy chair somewhere hip that you'd been meaning to go for awhile. All of a sudden, just as soon as Christian Grey is about to spew his feelings, when you hear, "YOU TEXTED WHO?!?!"..a frightening red headed woman jumps up and yells at her beany and gage clad boyfriend. There is a hush across the room, and you were almost to the climax! (literally). This couple goes on for another 5 minutes until a mousy teenage boy employee mumbles to them that they should try to keep it down. And on and on it goes until they throw each other across the table and turn back into the PDA couple. I hate whoever coined the phrase "Make Up and Make Out".
So there you have it folks, my views on relationships. They're sticky, gross and over romanticized by today's media, kind of like high fructose corn syrup. If you're in love, that's great. Please strive to be one of those couples that people want to be around, not one that I might "accidentally" trip while on my next visit to the Grand Canyon. And if you're a sour tramp like myself, let's clink our mugs of tea together, pick up knitting for a month or so before we get bored and compare ourselves to Liz Lemon. Forever alone just got glamorous. Haha, no it really didn't.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Girl Bodies
Like fingerprints, no two bodies are the same. In my personal and professional opinion, professional since I am a girl, no two feminine bodies are the same. Bumps, bruises and scars can add to this mix as well as ethnography. Today, I will be taking you into some of the most common categories of girl bodies.
First, there is the 'Celery Chick'. This girl could have a major career in runway modeling, because she is built like the primary, negative calorie snack eaten by fashionistas, celery! These girls usually extend 12 inches or less in every direction. Her thighs you could probably easily wrap a hand around, and her chest could be used as a serving tray. This petite miss usually looks best in Audrey Hepburn like LBD's, and over sized sweaters with leggings or maxi dresses.
Next, there's the 'Ice Cream Cone'. This is one of the body types that I identify with. When I say ice cream cone, I mean they kind of have some roll action going on, in the shape of a DQ cone. This isn't something that they should be ashamed of, especially if they know how to decorate the cone with some sprinkles and topping! These girls are always looking fly in some large, flashy jewelry. Accessories are always key to this girl's look. A cute crop tee or tank with a cami, cardigan and hip hugging jeans can go a long way as well as a bright, thin belt that accents the smallest part of her body.
The body type that I wish I had was the 'Kardashian'. Not only because I have a totally family crush on the Kardashian family, and sometimes imagine myself being their long lost sister, or Rob's girlfriend, but they have God given curves. These girls have a lot up top, little in the middle and are bumpin' in the back. Almost an old fashion Coke bottle shape, but 100% better. These girls look good in basically anything. High waist skirts and pants look fabulous, as well as form fitted mini-dresses with blazers.
The 'Jillian Michaels' is probably the most intimidating look. Every muscle on this girl's body is toned to absolute perfection. This girl could walk around in a sports bra, compression shorts and earrings and it would like like a Versace gown. These girls need to show off their arms and legs as much as possible. Form fitting tanks, cropped shirts with hip hugging Daisy Duke's and minis will look killer on her. She could even keep her Nikes on for a fun, sporty, look.
If there is one celebrity that I probably don't like, which is very rare for me, its probably 'Pippa Middleton'. These girls are usually the ones that post a million photos on Instagram and Twitter of them in their sparkly form fitting dresses and neon bikinis. This girl theoretically has the perfect body. A little bit of Jillian going on, with a Kardashian like behind. These girls should rock their toned legs in a pair of skinny jeans or yoga pants. Bandarelles with sheer tops should be staples in her closet.
Let's get one thing straight. Even though Vogue tells us differently, one body isn't superior to another. Every girl looks good, especially naked. Fashion is about girls, let's be real. Do you really think dudes sit around and say, "Man that girl at the party really looked stunning in that studded vest." NO. They don't say that.
Every body looks fabulous, you just have to know how to market it, not to impress idiot boys, but to make ourselves feel better. We can look confident, sexy, professional, goofy, thug, anything we want for our own sake, we don't have to prove to anyone. In the end, just a smile says it all.
First, there is the 'Celery Chick'. This girl could have a major career in runway modeling, because she is built like the primary, negative calorie snack eaten by fashionistas, celery! These girls usually extend 12 inches or less in every direction. Her thighs you could probably easily wrap a hand around, and her chest could be used as a serving tray. This petite miss usually looks best in Audrey Hepburn like LBD's, and over sized sweaters with leggings or maxi dresses.
Next, there's the 'Ice Cream Cone'. This is one of the body types that I identify with. When I say ice cream cone, I mean they kind of have some roll action going on, in the shape of a DQ cone. This isn't something that they should be ashamed of, especially if they know how to decorate the cone with some sprinkles and topping! These girls are always looking fly in some large, flashy jewelry. Accessories are always key to this girl's look. A cute crop tee or tank with a cami, cardigan and hip hugging jeans can go a long way as well as a bright, thin belt that accents the smallest part of her body.
The body type that I wish I had was the 'Kardashian'. Not only because I have a totally family crush on the Kardashian family, and sometimes imagine myself being their long lost sister, or Rob's girlfriend, but they have God given curves. These girls have a lot up top, little in the middle and are bumpin' in the back. Almost an old fashion Coke bottle shape, but 100% better. These girls look good in basically anything. High waist skirts and pants look fabulous, as well as form fitted mini-dresses with blazers.
The 'Jillian Michaels' is probably the most intimidating look. Every muscle on this girl's body is toned to absolute perfection. This girl could walk around in a sports bra, compression shorts and earrings and it would like like a Versace gown. These girls need to show off their arms and legs as much as possible. Form fitting tanks, cropped shirts with hip hugging Daisy Duke's and minis will look killer on her. She could even keep her Nikes on for a fun, sporty, look.
If there is one celebrity that I probably don't like, which is very rare for me, its probably 'Pippa Middleton'. These girls are usually the ones that post a million photos on Instagram and Twitter of them in their sparkly form fitting dresses and neon bikinis. This girl theoretically has the perfect body. A little bit of Jillian going on, with a Kardashian like behind. These girls should rock their toned legs in a pair of skinny jeans or yoga pants. Bandarelles with sheer tops should be staples in her closet.
Let's get one thing straight. Even though Vogue tells us differently, one body isn't superior to another. Every girl looks good, especially naked. Fashion is about girls, let's be real. Do you really think dudes sit around and say, "Man that girl at the party really looked stunning in that studded vest." NO. They don't say that.
Every body looks fabulous, you just have to know how to market it, not to impress idiot boys, but to make ourselves feel better. We can look confident, sexy, professional, goofy, thug, anything we want for our own sake, we don't have to prove to anyone. In the end, just a smile says it all.
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
The Difference
I'm assuming that everyone, or lack their of, reading this blog is familiar with the difference between dreams and goals. Just as a refresher, a dream is something that you want to have, but it could be unattainable. A goal is something that you work towards and eventually get there, hopefully.
Well, I have a secret. Okay, if you know me its really not a secret, but if you don't I'm bearing all to tell you. My goal is to go to law school in SoCal after my undergrad. Live in Santa Monica near the beach, in a 3 bed, 2 bath apartment with my beloved cat Grandma Lois. Monday through Saturday I will work tirelessly for the company I am representing and Sundays I will spend reading books down by the water, attending fundraisers for politicians and hiking the California mountain range. I know I can do it. I know I can rub elbows with the likes of Condi Rice and Hilary Clinton, I know I can. Don't get me wrong, I know it will take a lot of hard work, money, sweat, blood and lots and lots of tears but I am confident that some day I will look back at this moment and say, "I called it".
My dream is a little more complicated than that, and it might stem from my terrible self esteem. My dream is to be a pretty girl. Thin, bubbly and everyone likes her, her hair always looks awesome and there's always a line of 15 attractive men after her every want and need. And she doesn't even have to try to be pretty, she just is. That's what I want more than anything in this world. The sinful part of this is that I probably am taking a few great qualities for granted. I want to be conventionally beautiful. You know the type, the girl that always looks great in her outfits, perfect make up, perfect nails, perfect hair, probably blonde.
Its a sad, sad world when a girl knows she can be a successful attorney in America, but doesn't feel adequate because she doesn't meet the physical requirements of today's society. There are always going to be those people that say, "You're beautiful just the way you are,", excuse me but what the hell does that mean? Every time I happen to leak that I hate everything about my physical self, someone will say those words to me and all I hear is, "You're okay looking-ish but you can't do anything about it, so just deal with it and shut up,".
That may or may not be what that person is thinking, but the fact that's what I'm hearing probably isn't the best sign. Whenever someone tells me I'm attractive, pretty or heaven forbid sexy, puke, I cringe and just pretend to ignore it. I feel like those words must be over used if someone would ever waste their time saying them about me.
Words like those should be saved for the world's true beauties. Not just the ones who have perfect swimsuit bodies, but the ones who have done serious work to make this world better. My closest friends happen to be those girls. They are the people that if I ever died, I would pass Grandma Lois down to, they are the people that have spent hours up at night working on documents, making calls and taking names in order to benefit someone else. I don't have enough fingers and toes to count all the girls who are seriously so gorgeous, so upbeat and so talented that seem to find my friendship worth their pretty girl time. I am so thankful for them but I will never understand why they waste their time with me.
I guess a dream is a dream is a dream. Not everyone can have everything, and that is just a fact of life. It is not cruel, just the way things work. So for now I'll just stick my nose back into books about political ethics while I secretly in-vision myself as a single digit size, smiling beauty. *sigh*
Well, I have a secret. Okay, if you know me its really not a secret, but if you don't I'm bearing all to tell you. My goal is to go to law school in SoCal after my undergrad. Live in Santa Monica near the beach, in a 3 bed, 2 bath apartment with my beloved cat Grandma Lois. Monday through Saturday I will work tirelessly for the company I am representing and Sundays I will spend reading books down by the water, attending fundraisers for politicians and hiking the California mountain range. I know I can do it. I know I can rub elbows with the likes of Condi Rice and Hilary Clinton, I know I can. Don't get me wrong, I know it will take a lot of hard work, money, sweat, blood and lots and lots of tears but I am confident that some day I will look back at this moment and say, "I called it".
My dream is a little more complicated than that, and it might stem from my terrible self esteem. My dream is to be a pretty girl. Thin, bubbly and everyone likes her, her hair always looks awesome and there's always a line of 15 attractive men after her every want and need. And she doesn't even have to try to be pretty, she just is. That's what I want more than anything in this world. The sinful part of this is that I probably am taking a few great qualities for granted. I want to be conventionally beautiful. You know the type, the girl that always looks great in her outfits, perfect make up, perfect nails, perfect hair, probably blonde.
Its a sad, sad world when a girl knows she can be a successful attorney in America, but doesn't feel adequate because she doesn't meet the physical requirements of today's society. There are always going to be those people that say, "You're beautiful just the way you are,", excuse me but what the hell does that mean? Every time I happen to leak that I hate everything about my physical self, someone will say those words to me and all I hear is, "You're okay looking-ish but you can't do anything about it, so just deal with it and shut up,".
That may or may not be what that person is thinking, but the fact that's what I'm hearing probably isn't the best sign. Whenever someone tells me I'm attractive, pretty or heaven forbid sexy, puke, I cringe and just pretend to ignore it. I feel like those words must be over used if someone would ever waste their time saying them about me.
Words like those should be saved for the world's true beauties. Not just the ones who have perfect swimsuit bodies, but the ones who have done serious work to make this world better. My closest friends happen to be those girls. They are the people that if I ever died, I would pass Grandma Lois down to, they are the people that have spent hours up at night working on documents, making calls and taking names in order to benefit someone else. I don't have enough fingers and toes to count all the girls who are seriously so gorgeous, so upbeat and so talented that seem to find my friendship worth their pretty girl time. I am so thankful for them but I will never understand why they waste their time with me.
I guess a dream is a dream is a dream. Not everyone can have everything, and that is just a fact of life. It is not cruel, just the way things work. So for now I'll just stick my nose back into books about political ethics while I secretly in-vision myself as a single digit size, smiling beauty. *sigh*
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Ode to a Phone
It was about 5 AM when I realized my precious BlackBerry wouldn't turn on. I was groggy, sweaty and sleepy and frustrated that I could not check the time. I begrudgingly whipped the rubber cover off the phone, took the battery out and shook it like a salt shaker.
I finally decided to roll myself out of bed and do some hardcore Googling, and no luck. I didn't want to download any scary "memory wipers" that were listed on the BlackBerry website, although I did try to plug it into my computer, let it charge, let the battery sit out of it. NO. SUCH. LUCK. It was a tragedy.
Instead of my usual spastic phone call to my mother, since my phone wasn't working, I sent her an anxious Facebook message, then made my way to my local Verizon store.
Okay, I seriously LOVE going to Verizon. First of all, to look at all the the new models of phones, tablets, phone cases, etc. Also, because when you walk in you're always greeted by a series of very, very attractive men. Men that wear cute, fleece jackets, have well kept hair and heart-melting smiles. These guys are not only there to assist your every technological need, but they're an eye-ful of Rachael Pishtek's dream man.
So I walk in, and three tall, dark haired gods greet me into the store. A salesman and I make eye contact. I say, "Hi, I'm having trouble with my phone...can you help me?". With a smile, Terrance escorted me to a desk with Live! With Kelly like chairs, and by that I mean, really damn high up. As I awkwardly position myself in a non Kelly Ripa like fashion, Terrance asks me if I tried taking the battery out, I'm sure I'm still smiling because he's so good looking, but in the back of my head I think, "No dumbass, I didn't think of that", of course I tried.
Terrance and another hottie fumble around with my device for a couple of minutes, then come to the conclusion that my phone is dead, dead, dead. Oh little BlackBerry, how will I go through my fast paced life without you?? I felt like my life was over, but luckily they sent out an order for a brand spankin' new one to be shipped to my house!...three hours away from my city.
So now I am stuck..I am trying to arrange an exchange between myself and my parents so I can get the new phone..or use an upgrade to obtain the fearful new iPhone..what to do, what to. Only time will tell..as the world turns.
I finally decided to roll myself out of bed and do some hardcore Googling, and no luck. I didn't want to download any scary "memory wipers" that were listed on the BlackBerry website, although I did try to plug it into my computer, let it charge, let the battery sit out of it. NO. SUCH. LUCK. It was a tragedy.
Instead of my usual spastic phone call to my mother, since my phone wasn't working, I sent her an anxious Facebook message, then made my way to my local Verizon store.
Okay, I seriously LOVE going to Verizon. First of all, to look at all the the new models of phones, tablets, phone cases, etc. Also, because when you walk in you're always greeted by a series of very, very attractive men. Men that wear cute, fleece jackets, have well kept hair and heart-melting smiles. These guys are not only there to assist your every technological need, but they're an eye-ful of Rachael Pishtek's dream man.
So I walk in, and three tall, dark haired gods greet me into the store. A salesman and I make eye contact. I say, "Hi, I'm having trouble with my phone...can you help me?". With a smile, Terrance escorted me to a desk with Live! With Kelly like chairs, and by that I mean, really damn high up. As I awkwardly position myself in a non Kelly Ripa like fashion, Terrance asks me if I tried taking the battery out, I'm sure I'm still smiling because he's so good looking, but in the back of my head I think, "No dumbass, I didn't think of that", of course I tried.
Terrance and another hottie fumble around with my device for a couple of minutes, then come to the conclusion that my phone is dead, dead, dead. Oh little BlackBerry, how will I go through my fast paced life without you?? I felt like my life was over, but luckily they sent out an order for a brand spankin' new one to be shipped to my house!...three hours away from my city.
So now I am stuck..I am trying to arrange an exchange between myself and my parents so I can get the new phone..or use an upgrade to obtain the fearful new iPhone..what to do, what to. Only time will tell..as the world turns.
Monday, July 16, 2012
Let Me Introduce Myself..
Hello...internet?
Let me start this thing out by saying this is not my first rodeo. I am familiar with the blogging world, and I have been for years. I started out as a mere lonesome loser, which I still recognize myself as to this day, blogging about a children's novel I had aspired to write when I was seventeen. I still go to the novel every so often when I'm at home with my parents, but I haven't touched it in months.
I then moved on to something closer to the big leagues, college blogging. I wrote entries for the university I attend for profit, making it sound like it is the best thing since sliced bread, which it probably is.
So I'm sure you're wondering, "Why try again at something that you just prove not to be that good at?". Well my dear friends, its the principle of the thing. Even though I might not have any readers, I might give up smack dab in the middle of this thing, but to say I tried put my feelings out there is just enough for me!
Instead of getting into a bunch of bull crap, back story..I'll just come right out and say it. I happen to be that girl that every single, independent teen or twenty something lady wants to be. I'm really not a narcissistic person, in fact I am the complete opposite, but this thing is about building my confidence and building my ego , right? Anyway, I'm the girl that blah blah blah what I said before. I live in a two bedroom townhouse in a budding metropolitan area of the Midwest. I'm currently working on my undergraduate degree in pursuits in Political Science and Marketing. I scored a sick internship with a national Presidential campaign this summer so I'm living all on my own, and I barista at a local coffee joint. Not only do I do all of that, but I maintain a healthy social life, I wear just the right amounts of seafoam, coral and beige, and I Keep Up With the Kardashians.
My life is just one big, rolling ball of single girl. I check out boys in grey tweed as they walk past the window of my favorite coffee bar downtown, sipping my coconut skinny latte. I text like its my j-o-b, to my friends living across the country or right down the street. My BlackBerry is my crown jewel.
I love Indie films, no I'm not a hipster, I just love Jason Reitman and satirical comedy that rides along with him. I'm that cool girl that you see climbing out of her Earth-Friendly Camry into the mall with that tan leather over-the-shoulder purse that you've wanted for quite awhile. Hippy, shmippy.
So, this is me. A nineteen year old college girl with a terrible self-esteem, wonderful friends and wonderful stories. Welcome to the beginning of my 'Curly Haired Chronicle'...damn, that would've been a good title.
Let me start this thing out by saying this is not my first rodeo. I am familiar with the blogging world, and I have been for years. I started out as a mere lonesome loser, which I still recognize myself as to this day, blogging about a children's novel I had aspired to write when I was seventeen. I still go to the novel every so often when I'm at home with my parents, but I haven't touched it in months.
I then moved on to something closer to the big leagues, college blogging. I wrote entries for the university I attend for profit, making it sound like it is the best thing since sliced bread, which it probably is.
So I'm sure you're wondering, "Why try again at something that you just prove not to be that good at?". Well my dear friends, its the principle of the thing. Even though I might not have any readers, I might give up smack dab in the middle of this thing, but to say I tried put my feelings out there is just enough for me!
Instead of getting into a bunch of bull crap, back story..I'll just come right out and say it. I happen to be that girl that every single, independent teen or twenty something lady wants to be. I'm really not a narcissistic person, in fact I am the complete opposite, but this thing is about building my confidence and building my ego , right? Anyway, I'm the girl that blah blah blah what I said before. I live in a two bedroom townhouse in a budding metropolitan area of the Midwest. I'm currently working on my undergraduate degree in pursuits in Political Science and Marketing. I scored a sick internship with a national Presidential campaign this summer so I'm living all on my own, and I barista at a local coffee joint. Not only do I do all of that, but I maintain a healthy social life, I wear just the right amounts of seafoam, coral and beige, and I Keep Up With the Kardashians.
My life is just one big, rolling ball of single girl. I check out boys in grey tweed as they walk past the window of my favorite coffee bar downtown, sipping my coconut skinny latte. I text like its my j-o-b, to my friends living across the country or right down the street. My BlackBerry is my crown jewel.
I love Indie films, no I'm not a hipster, I just love Jason Reitman and satirical comedy that rides along with him. I'm that cool girl that you see climbing out of her Earth-Friendly Camry into the mall with that tan leather over-the-shoulder purse that you've wanted for quite awhile. Hippy, shmippy.
So, this is me. A nineteen year old college girl with a terrible self-esteem, wonderful friends and wonderful stories. Welcome to the beginning of my 'Curly Haired Chronicle'...damn, that would've been a good title.
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