Monday, September 10, 2012

Let them leave, darling.


So, chances are that you are a living, breathing, human being. If you are not, then I honestly don't think you are in the right place. I have nothing to offer you. But, as a creature of the human persuasion, you probably have a best friend. Maybe you are one of the lucky ones that has several. Maybe you are one of the unlucky ones that doesn't have any. If that is the case, I'm sorry for bringing it up. But for the sake of what I'm talking about, let's pretend that everyone has a best friend.

You hang out together, you know what the other person likes or dislikes, you wear bow ties at inappropriate times, you try to find shapes in the glow in the dark stars on your ceiling together, you relive memories of good times that you have shared together, maybe you go to the park and swing even though you are adults. I don't know what you do, but the point is, you do it together and enjoy each other's company. Your best friend makes you happy.

But what I am about to unleash on your unsuspecting eyeballs is a little known fact that is closely guarded.

Some day things are going to change.
and you have to be ok with who you are. 
You have to like yourself so that when people start disappearing out of your life, you can spend time alone without going crazy. You can find happiness without the help of others, you just have to be open to the possibility.  And the longer you sit there, wishing for something you can't get back, the longer you are responsible for your own unhappiness.

It's sad. It's heartbreaking, and sometimes you will feel sick about it. But you can't force someone to care about you, and you shouldn't have to. People aren't always who you thought they were, and no matter how hard you try, you cannot change another person. People are who they are and it's hard to accept sometimes.

I'm going to tell you another little known fact, and you might not believe it, but I promise it's true. 

You are special. 
Don't let the world and people that don't give a shit try to take that away. 

Read a book, go for a walk, play with your dog. Do anything but sit there and wish that things could go back to the way they were. If someone has moved on to a life that no longer includes you, do yourself a favor and move on to a life that no longer includes them. Be stronger than you thought you were, because one day you will sit down and it will be quiet. And if, for a moment, you decide to listen with your heart instead of your ears, you can feel it. Happiness has a way of sneaking up on you.

So let them leave, darling. And be whoever you want to be.

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Learn from my mistakes, I'm an idiot

I recently went through a brief stint in which I, apparently, lost my mind and forgot that I am not the type of girl that actually ever does girly things.
For instance:
I am not good at manicures.
I am not good at writing in pretty, fun letters.
I am not good at flirting with boys.
I am not good at realizing that boys are flirting with me. (I attribute this mostly to the fact that I have a lot of very good guy friends and when strangers flirt with me, I assume they just want to hang out and be awesome together.)
I am not good at making my hair pretty.
I am not seductive or mysterious in any way.
I also don't have a pinterest.
All of these things, I assume, were lessons in this book. Which my parents never got me. Obviously.

If they had, I would probably be beating the shit out of Betty Crocker on the cooking charts. 
(I'm assuming that that's a real thing?)

ANYWAY, I digress. I had seen somewhere that putting olive oil on curly hair was like.... the bee's knees or some shit. And who doesn't wanna be the bee's knees?! No one. That's who. 
So I get out of the shower, and I'm all steamy and squeaky clean, and I remember the olive oil thing. And I think to myself, "Hey.... you know what? I have some olive oil in the kitchen RIGHT NOW. We could totes make this happen!" But, like any responsible adult, I google the process first, to make sure I do it right. Google says that you rub the olive oil into the ends of your hair and let it chill. Seems pretty simple, right? WRONG. Google goes on to say, Hey, idiot! While you're doing that, there is such a thing as using olive oil as a facial and it's just super. It will make you pretty in like, point two-five seconds. To which I say, "Thank you, Google! You always know just what to say!"

I get my supplies. I have, in my bathroom, a towel, a bottle of olive oil, Another One Bites the Dust by Queen playing in the background, just to get the mood right, a brush, a washcloth, my dog (although I didn't do that on purpose, she just can't give me any privacy. Home girl's got some serious abandonment issues), and last but not least, a Michelob Ultra. All necessities. I put the towel over my shoulders so as not to get oil on my shirt. I have at this point brushed my hair out so it is tangle free, and I take off the cap to pour some olive oil in my hand, all while trying (but failing miserably) to not dance to Queen. I pour the olive oil into my hand and BOOM. Mistake Number 1: Olive oil does not have a cap of any kind and A LOT of it came out. Now in my mind I am screaming, OH- GOD- NO! but on the outside I just look to my reflection in the mirror with a disgruntled, disgusted, another dis-word look on my face. As if to say, "Do you see this shit? This was your idea, asshole."

But we have come too far to stop now, we must soldier onward. We must fight oppression in all of it's forms. Do you think that Britney Spears gave up when the greatest thing to ever happen to her, AKA Sir Justin Timberlake, walked away from her and made a music video with her lookalike about her being a cheating whore? NO! Do you think that Brandy gave up trying to be famous because she realized that America no longer gave a shit about her?! NO!!! She held on to her brother's coat tails so ferociously that she got a reality show out of it, and now she is still probably getting paid to be on TV somewhere. DO YOU THINK THAT CARROT TOP STOPPED DOING COMEDY BECAUSE PEOPLE REALIZED HE WASN'T FUNNY ANYMORE?! The answer, my friend, is no. No he did not. So I tip a little of the oil off my hands into the sink and rub the rest into the ends of my hair. Then I take what is left on my hands and RUB IT ALL OVER MY FUCKING FACE. 
LIKE AN IDIOT.
So the directions say, get a washcloth, make it wet with hot water, put it over your face, let it "steam" for a minute or two and this should magically make your pores be like hey screw this dirt in here get it out. Viola. Clean, glorious facial region. Lies. I'm sitting here with a washcloth on my face, thinking.... I look like an idiot. But this will probably be cool. No. It's not cool. You know why? Because you are sitting there with oil on your face heating it up. You know what else requires you to heat up oil? Cooking. Only when you cook you don't use your face. So my minute is up, I rise from the toilet gracefully, like an oil soaked princess, use the washcloth to wipe my face, and look in the mirror. And you know what I saw? The exact same thing I saw two minutes ago before I put the oil on, only the look of hope had faded to one of disappointment and broken dreams. I also noticed that one of my eyebrows is longer than the other, so.... there's that. 

Fast forward to the next day. I get up to go to work, and in my head I think, what is that strange smell? Not a bad smell, just.... strange. And I look in the mirror, and my face is so incredibly greasy it could probably be  bottled and used to power lamps from the mid 15th century. And there are three lovely blemishes, placed just so, popping up to say hello. So I immediately get the rubbing alcohol and take care of that, but while I am silently wishing I had a time machine so I could go back and punch myself in the face, I realize that the strange smell is olives. More specifically, olive oil. Which is in my hair. Because I put it there. On purpose. 

MORAL OF THE STORY: GIRL BEAUTY TIPS ARE DECEITFUL AND RUDE. And if you are not a girly girl, don't try to be because you will end up smelling like olives with zits to remind you of your stupidity.

"But she looks so blissfully happy!"

LIES.

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Not everyone is going to be an Astronaut, kids.

So it has recently come to my attention that I have no idea what I am doing with my life. Huh. Imagine that. I'm twenty-two years old, working as a receptionist, and to top off the cake that is my successful life, I decided against going back to school this semester. All in all, a winning combo. I'm not real sure when this overwhelming sense of panic and worthlessness is supposed to be something to actually worry about, but I have a feeling that time is coming up soon. In the past I could just be like, What? No, I'm (insert youngish age here). I'm not supposed to know what I want to do with my life! But now.... It's getting harder and harder to justify spending all my money on booze and coming into work hungover. I mean, it's not IMPOSSIBLE. But it's getting a tad bit more difficult.

So I obviously want to be rich. But I don't have a lot of marketable skills that would make me rich.

SKILL SET:

  • I can write. So there's that.
  • I can use pretty much any Microsoft program... not that spectacular.
  • I can read pretty fast.
  • I can drive. That's a biggie. 
  • I can make people laugh, but that's not gonna get me rich. Why would you even bring that up?
  • I can operate calculators and/or cash registers. But billionaires don't use those things.
  • I am pretty good at accents. Specifically Irish etc. Possible fame kick starter?
  • I am REALLY good at not finishing things... But that seems counterproductive for this list. 

In short, I'm doomed to lead a mediocre life with only the hope of making minimum wage unless I somehow develop some awesome skills, which I don't see happening. The best idea I've ever had is to start a place in town where people can come take naps on their lunch breaks if they don't want to drive all the way home. (<-- WHICH IS PRETTY DAMN SPECTACULAR BECAUSE I WOULD SLEEP THE SHIT OUT OF THAT PLACE! Just sayin.)

But, perhaps my worry is premature. Perhaps I will just be a gypsy for a while. Move from job to job with no real aspiration to move up or become a permanent fixture of the workplace. Right now I don't have much to lose. I have a dog, but she will eat pretty much anything, so she can just wander with me. I could learn how to play a musical instrument, perhaps. I could stand on street corners and serenade work folk on their way to their jobs that make them want to jump off bridges and not survive. Maybe make their day a bit brighter. Or I could just stand on the corner telling jokes, acting out skits, etc. Like a one woman show that is filled with all kinds of shenanigans! I'm off topic, and I'm not ever actually going to do any of this nonsense. Quit being so judgmental. 

My beef (yes, I did just use the term beef to describe a problem, get over it) is with the American populace in general. From day one, they feed us this nonsense about, "You can be whatever you want! You can change the world." Um, nope. I mean sure, there are a few children that grow up and actually make something of themselves and change the world and more power to em, but the majority of us were the ones catching grasshoppers on the playground not giving a shit about anything. And you know what? That attitude stays with you your whole life. The majority of us will not be the ones that change the world, we will be the ones that work meaningless jobs to make ends meet and we will hate every single second of it. And that's fine. The country needs that to survive. BUT STOP TELLING EVERY SINGLE CHILD THAT THEY ARE GOING TO BE AN ASTRONAUT WHEN IN REALITY THEY ARE GOING TO BE A TELEMARKETER! It's rude and when they finally realize for themselves that they are not going to be a rock star, it is heartbreaking and they feel like a failure, when in fact, they had a very slim margin for success in the first place. It's not failure if you never had a chance! 

But, that's the great thing about America. A few get through and give us regular folk a weird, misguided hope that we can do the same. And that keeps people going, thinking that one day they are going to get rich and tell everyone that ever made them miserable to suck it while driving away in their Porsche. Who doesn't want that? 

In conclusion, I want to be rich and buy whatever I want. Or I want to be poor and not give a shit instead of worrying about money all the time. Which I think is more likely, because, let's be honest. I was one of the kids catching grasshoppers on the playground.


Hero Status ^^^^

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Ugly cry faces are the best

Is it me or does it seem like everyone around me is either getting married or having babies? Obviously using the word everyone is somewhat of an exaggeration, but you get the point. A lot of people. More than I am comfortable with. And not only that, but I feel like every one of my social media sites just shoves it in my face as soon as I log on. Like oh, you were feeling ok about where your life is right now?


WELL WHY ARE YOU NOT MARRIED TO THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE WITH A GREAT CAREER AND BEAUTIFUL BABIES LIKE OTHER PEOPLE YOUR AGE?!

 I don't know, Facebook. I'm sorry, I'll try harder.  

I get a punch to the uterus every time I log on, and it's starting to get old. So, in true passive aggressive form, every time I see a picture posted of someone's baby human, I post a picture of my dog. TAKE THAT YOU HAPPY PERSON! You have to actually take care of your little mammal, where as I get to just feed mine and let her run around in all of her super ADD glory. I don't have to deal with my dog eventually talking back or throwing a fit or saying cute things or loving me until I die of old age or getting into a good college to take care of me when they start making their own money or being the best thing to ever happen to me or--- OH GOD I'M CRYING! 

It's ok, Dawson. I'm an ugly crier too. Also, Joey should have totes picked you. 

All these people are in love and have pretty families and I am single and have a dog. Who wins? That's right. You guessed it. I DO. But, Devin, what about what just happened? What about the ugly cry face?! you ask, appalled that you have been duped by my crocodile tears. It's true, I sometimes feel super jelli of people who are all settled down with families and white picket fences. That is not a lie, dear reader, so do not feel so bad about yourself for falling for my tricksy ways. BUT. I can go out tonight after work and get rip roarin drunk if I wanted to and you know what? No one can say a damn thing about it. As long as I am at work at 8 am tomorrow, because, you know... I have rent to pay and whatnot, I can do whatever the hell I want. I don't have a family to answer to, I don't have lives that I am responsible for. I can pretty much do whatever I want, whenever I want (also, again, with the exception of between the hours of 8 am and  5 pm because I'm not that much of a rebel). Tonight, If I wanted to, I could go to a playground and throw rocks at small children. And you know who would be mad about it? 

well.... I was going to say no one, but the more I think about it that is probably untrue. Parents and authority figures probably wouldn't be too pleased about that one. Also, I'm pretty sure that throwing rocks at people is a form of punishment/death in the Middle East. 
uhhhhhh....
Yeah you're right, that was probably a bad example. Like, maybe the worst possible example. But I feel like we are adults here and you probably get where I was going with that. I'm off track- what was I talking about? 

Right. Families and all that nonsense. The point is, that I have a certain amount of freedom that people who are tied down don't have, and I really appreciate it. Thanks for the freedom, America. I'm making good use out of it by NOT being married or a mother. 

To be clear, I am not bashing my friends that are married or have babies because from the earlier ugly cry incident, it is clear that some part of me is actually pretty jealous of that great lifestyle. I'm just pointing out that I also happen to like being extremely selfish, single, and irresponsible. So, I'm just going to keep doing that. I'm gonna ride this B til it breaks down! 

Alone. 
Totally, completely, alone.
But, for real...
I'm fine with it.
I DON'T EVEN CARE.
Seriously, though. 
Completely fine. 
..................
.................
..................

eeeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Love is whatever you want it to be

I think it's safe to say that some friendships just end. They fizzle out slowly, over time, until one day you wake up and POOF. You haven't talked to someone in months and you are completely fine with it. But what I don't understand is why some friendships last and some don't. I have had a best friend since I was ten years old and I am now 22 and we still talk every day. Even when he was in boot camp, we kept the dream alive. Given, we are complete assholes to each other, but it somehow works.
-Hello?
-You're a whore.
But riddle me this. Through the years I have also had a few really good female friends. And every single one of them were great friends to me for the most part, but I only still talk to a couple of them. Why are we not still hanging out and talking shit about everyone we don't like? Why am I still friends with the guy from 5th grade? Honestly, there are some things that guys just can't understand about girls. You can't obsess over a crush that you have with one of your guy friends because they will tell you to quit being gay and talk about something else. A girl friend will sit with you and diagram your crush's every text message to find the hidden meaning in it. 

^^^ This is what girl friends do. 

SO WHY THE EFF DO I HAVE SO MANY MAN FRIENDS AND ONLY LIKE TWO GIRL FRIENDS?!

It's not like having guy friends gets me more boyfriends. In fact, it seems the opposite is true. My guy friends view me as a guy with long hair, and men that don't know me see me surrounded by other men and think I am either banging all of them or a lesbian. 

For the record, neither one is true. 

I suppose I should just stop bitching and be grateful that I have so many good friends. I have a couple really awesome girl friends and more than a couple super awesome guy friends. And yes, there are draw backs to being surrounded by dudes all the time... for example they are really gassy. They always somehow draw the conversation to sports. They sometimes don't know their own strength. They tend to watch a lot of porn and explain it in graphic detail. BUT. They also give awesome hugs when I have had a horrible day. They pretend to be my boyfriend to fend off creepers at the bar. They can quote any movie, any time. They immediately go into fight mode if they see me arguing with a guy. They change flat tires and wait with me while I get my oil changed. There is a lot to be said about a good guy friend. Also, my guy friends don't make a big deal out of it when I tell them they are not allowed to wear a shirt around me so I can appreciate their muscles. 



So I say, take the good with the bad and the bad with a shot because everyone needs a little variety. Love doesn't have to be romantic, it can be anything you want it to be <3.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Uncomfortably Polite

I understand that as a society, we aren't really allowed to go around spouting our true feelings about everything. It turns out that if someone invites you out and you tell them, "No you annoy me and make me want to punch small children and/or elderly people", they tend to get their feelings hurt. So what do you do? You tell them, "Oh I can't I'm sorry, I already have plans" and that is the end of that.


Unless they start stalking you...


In which case, you might want to call the police.

Or if a friend gets a new haircut that is completely hideous, yet you are a nice friend and so you tell her, "It looks great! It really brings out the shape of your face... which is good." In all reality, you want to ask her if she even owns a mirror and if she does, why she would not look in said mirror before leaving the house.

It um... it looks great? How do you feel about hats?

There are all kinds of situations in which it is not only socially acceptable, but actually socially required for you to be a polite liar. I understand this, because if I'm being honest, I don't ever want anyone telling me the truth about when I look super shitty. Ever. Not even if there is a fire. 

But
I Cannot
Stand
Polite
Small
Talk

There I said it. The elephant in the room, the fly in the ointment, another analogy of a creature being somewhere where it has no business being. 

When I see someone that I honestly don't care about, and I am forced to make polite conversation with them so as not to seem rude, it makes me hate them more. 

I don't care about the weather. I don't care about what you did last weekend. I don't care about where you work. I don't care about who you are dating... 

ok I might care about that one if it is scandalous.

BUT I don't care how you have been or what you have been up to. All in all, I don't care about anything going on in your life. Most of the time, if I haven't talked to you in years, it is probably for a reason. That reason is most likely that I forgot you existed. So if I had no recollection of you ever breathing air on this planet and my life was doing just fine, why would you think that I want to be uncomfortable with you in the middle of the tampon aisle of Walmart? 

Conversation
Starter Kit

If someone actually said how shitty their life was going at the moment, the other partner involved in the conversation would likely start hysterically sobbing and making strange pterodactyl noises out of sheer shock  and desperation. And do you know how awkward that is in the middle of a crowded supermarket?! No one wants that. No one can handle that shit. 



Don't be a pterodactyl. Do the right thing and lie shamelessly to people you haven't seen in ages who might be named David? or Jamie? or Steven? Shit... just say hey it's good to see you and leave off the name because you're never going to remember anyway.

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Bad Mother's Day Gifts

Well Mother's Day is coming up sometime this weekend, or so I have been told, so that got me thinking about possible gift ideas. Which then led to thinking about possible HORRIBLE gift ideas, which was much more entertaining.

IDEA NUMBER ONE


A two part package that will surely have your mother sobbing about bad life decisions. AKA- a BAD gift.
READ BETWEEN THE LINES!


She'll figure it out.

IDEA NUMBER TWO


Every mother dreams of becoming a grandmother, but we all acknowledge that there is supposed to be a natural order to things. Meet a guy, get engaged, get married, pop out babies. What better way to tell mom that you had premarital sex and are now carrying some random guy's illegitimate child thannnnnn.....

T SHIRTS!!!!



you might want to lead off with this one...


IDEA NUMBER THREE

If you would like to just flat out insult your mother, there are ways in which it can be done. 

INSULTING STEREOTYPES!


A new ironing board and iron!!! Doesn't that woman just look like she is having a fabulous time?!

IDEA NUMBER FOUR

One thing we sometimes forget is that inside every mom, there is still an insecure woman. Not bashing moms,  just simply stating the fact that all women are, in some way, insecure children. What worse gift to give the woman that gave you life than ones that will lower their self esteem.

Diet, Dating, and Aging Tips!



I didn't k now Botox had coupons?



So all in all, if you feel like playing a semi soul crushing prank on someone this mother's day (please don't make it your actual mother, that's horrible. Make it a friend or a sibling or someone you secretly hate. Your mom gave you life, don't be like that. Rude.) here are a few options. Or you could always go with the old standby of an Applebee's gift card. Whichever you prefer. 

-Dev