Anecdote, Awkward, Food, Home, Humor, I Wasn't Worried, I'm not a mommy blogger, My Idea Of Being An Adult, Thoughts, You're Fine

How Southern Have I Become?

I’ve been scaring myself lately. I’ve had many moments where I stopped and said, “That was awfully Southern, Jess.” I’ve actually thoroughly enjoyed my time here in the South. The only section in America I haven’t lived in is the Midwest and no thank you. There have been certain aspects to the South I’ve experienced over the last six months that you can only experience in the South. Kind of like New England with their Autumn – apple picking, cider donuts, jumping in the leaves, and oh my god I think I might cry. (You can experience those things outside of New England but it’s not the same.)

So here are some Southerner things I’ve dealt with that is so Southernly Southern that I now feel the need to rate myself on a scale of 1(Southern) to 10 (Northern).

The Food

I ordered Chicken and Waffles the other day for breakfast. I was ashamed as I was ordering it, and I felt the button on my shorts ripping at the seams. Chicken and Waffles is still a completely weird and foreign meal to consume but I’ve heard nothing but good things and decided to try it.

It was disgustingly delicious. For those of you unfamiliar with this meal, it’s a giant waffle with a piece of fried chicken on top. And yes, you dip both the chicken and the waffle in maple syrup. How the hell do they come up with this? And we wonder why the South contains the fattest population in America.

Scale – 1 (Dude…that was so Southern.)

The Pace

It’s very, verrrrrryyyyy, verrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrryyyyyy slow down here. Some mornings, it takes me fifteen minutes just to get my coffee. Nearly every coffee shop I enter, even the Starbucks, there’s no more than two people working the counter, even on the busiest mornings. And they take one order at a time.

They take the order. Spend five minutes making the order. Give the order to the customer. And then so on. They for some reason don’t take multiple orders and try to do everything at once. AMATEURS. 

But I’ve learned to buy myself some time. I wake up earlier, skip down the street and order my coffee, which the place I typically go to now knows my order by heart, and we will make small talk as I’m waiting. The pace down here has been bearable if I allow it.

Scale – 5 (You’re adapting…)

The People

Southerners have a certain quality in them that’s erie. Ever seen Fargo? All of the characters are so wonderfully nice and jolly while they’re trying to solve a murder.

This might be a better example: You can automatically tell when a New Yorker or a Bostonian is angry just by making eye contact. They will get up in your face with a rage you’ve never seen, all because why? You didn’t put the cream in their coffee like they asked. They’ve got places to be man!

But Southerners, they are all about the passive aggressive banter. Take my landlady for example. I got a voicemail from her last week and she said, “I was just driving by y’all’s place and noticed the recycling bin isn’t out, and I just can’t help but wonder…why???” And then she hung up. Bitchy, right? Yet her tone was so charming. She then texted me and Colleen asking about it, and I apologized and said we just aren’t used to taking the bins out because we’ve never had to anywhere else we’ve lived, but we can work with the girls next door to figure out some alternating schedule.

Her response was, “I completely understand and I know I clumsily forget as well. But that’s just part of being an adult living in a city. I’m putting money into making your home feel special and it would be nice if you appreciated it.”

I completely lost it. This woman tends to act like she’s my mother scolding me. I already have a mom. I don’t need another one. And then to accuse me of not having my shit together like a normal adult was downright insulting. However, if there’s one thing I learned about Southerners and they’re clever passive aggressive banter, it’s that it doesn’t usually last very long when you bite back because they hate confrontation. So I said, “I’ve lived in many cities larger than Charleston, so I’m aware that it works differently everywhere.”

Her response, “Alternating weeks sounds like a great idea! *Inserts smiley face*”


As long as my northernness never leaves me entirely, I’ll live. I don’t think it’s possible, honestly.


Dating, Memories, Social Media, Thoughts, You're Fine

How You Should View Your Ex

The other day, my ex of almost six years posted on Instagram for his girlfriend’s birthday. She’s a relatively new girlfriend, although I’ve been aware of her for a while. It’s only been a recent thing that my ex has actually posted anything with her. I’ve done some creeping and some stalking (I think we can all officially agree that we do this, mostly out of boredom), and she genuinely seems like a sweet person, and I really am happy for him. But the birthday post bothered me for just a minute.

I stopped for a second, reading his post about her birthday and calling her his “Partner in crime”, and realized he never once posted for my birthday. There was one year he posted on my birthday, but it was about the uniform he received in the mail for the Boston Marathon. I had that moment of weakness where I thought, “Why did he post for her and not for me?” And then I slapped myself in the face. My friend Helen sent me a text message and I brought up the birthday post. She wrote, “Isn’t it interesting to see what your exes are willing to do for other people and what they didn’t do for you?”

Now, I realize the Instagram post is a petty and fairly small thing to complain about. It really isn’t all that important. But when you break up, you tend to go over in your head not just the big things, but the small things that matter too. Like how every year, I posted on our anniversary and he didn’t. Or that one year I threw him a surprise birthday party. Or how every gift he gave me was so impersonal and lacked interest, which in a way showed how much he didn’t know me. The little things matter because those are the things that show the other person you care.

My response to Helen was simple: It’s a good thing that I’m seeing these changes because it tells me he learned something from all of this. You’re supposed to see changes in your ex, so rather than being mad and upset because what they’re doing now is something they didn’t ever do for you is ridiculous. You should be happy that they’re changing their ways, otherwise the next girl doesn’t stand a chance. Both my ex and I were too selfish to be considerate to one another, which is why he’s my ex. We were young, so we were supposed to be selfish.

This, I believe, is how every person should view their ex. Unless they tried to stab you or steal from you, you shouldn’t look at them with hatred simply because it didn’t work out. Especially once your ex has moved onto someone else and is treating them the way they are supposed to be treated, you should be happy about this because it means they actually listened to you.

I don’t hate any of my exes, even the shady, cheating ones. I’m not buddy-buddy with any of them, but if I were to run into them walking down the street, I’d offer to grab a coffee and catch up. I’ve grown a lot when it comes to relationships. No matter what I experienced, bad or good, or what I’ve been through, I am who I am. I will never be the jealous girlfriend, or the controlling girlfriend, or the clingy girlfriend. I have my own life and so do they. If they screw up, I will always give them a chance to properly explain themselves, but if they need to explain themselves every single week, then it’s time to call it quits. I’ve learned my time is precious, and I’m no longer going to waste it with anyone who can’t reciprocate those feelings.

So the next time you see your ex, whether it’s in-person or through social media, be the bigger person. No longer sit and stew over what you see, and walk along.

I Wasn't Worried, Memories, My Idea Of Being An Adult, Thoughts, You're Fine

It’s Not So Scary Anymore

You know what’s been on my mind lately? Interviews.

I remember one of my first interviews out of college was for an administrative assistant position at MIT. It took me forever to find the right building, and by the time I got there I was a sweaty mess. The pencil skirt I had on didn’t fit quite right and I was self conscious about my purse because my boyfriend at the time thought it was weird to bring a purse into an interview. What can I say? Men are kind of stupid sometimes.

I didn’t expect to be interviewed by six different people all at the same time. And I was so nervous that I neglected to even look up the mission of the school, so naturally a question that related to the mission was asked and I diddle daddled my answer. It’s safe to say, I didn’t get the job.

Over the years, I’ve interviewed for a lot of different places. It’s easy to say that I’ve just grown accustomed to it but I’ve noticed something that’s pretty relevant. Most of the jobs I received after college, I didn’t actually want. I remember my interviews for them and I was extremely nervous. I stumbled over my words, lied when I felt I needed to, and yet still found a way to nail the job.

The question I’ve hated the most is, “Why do you want this job?”

For years, I’ve been lying. Whatever job I was interviewing for, I had no desire to have it. But I needed a way to pay my bills.

Since I’ve been living in Charleston, I’ve been crushing my interviews and it feels amazing. I’m still a running candidate for an art instructor position for wine and paint night. I recently interviewed for another gallery that went so well, I nearly cried on my walk home. It’s all starting to feel real to me now. I honestly never thought I’d reach this point, this simple act of interviewing for jobs I actually want. It felt like such a far away dream for so long and it’s finally coming together.

I just got an email this morning that I’ve landed an interview to be North Charleston’s Artist-in-Residence for the 2017/2018 school year. I applied on a whim the other day, not expecting a call back because of how many applicants I’m sure there are every year. It’s a chance to teach in the local schools and outreach programs, hold seminars and workshops for students of all ages, and I’d have an exhibit of my work at the end of the year and the Arts Fest in May. Not only will this be a fun and amazing experience, but this could be a step in a direction towards the art community here in Charleston. I’d be getting my name around, perhaps making it easier to find jobs and showcase my artwork in galleries.

My interview is scheduled for Monday and I’m surprisingly not nervous. I’m excited to hear more about it and meet the director of the program.

There’s a reason so many of us get scared going into an interview. Perhaps a lot of the time it’s because we’re not listening to our gut.

Awkward, Dating, Girls, Humor, Internet Things, My Idea Of Being An Adult, Thoughts, You're Fine

I Don’t Want to Be a Princess

We can go ahead and consider this a new Single Schmingle installment since I’ve discussed this very topic with Myka and Meghan. Bear with me here.

I always thought Mia Thermopolis was crazy. Who wouldn’t want to wake up one day and find out they’re a princess? The girl got a full blown makeover for free, a millions beautiful ball gowns, a tiara she got to wear occasionally, and full service at her disposal. Granted, if you’re introverted like Mia, all of that attention can make you feel like you have a thousand tiny ants crawling all over your body. You’re uncomfortable nearly all the time. You might even feel guilty. And I am exactly like that.

Something Colleen said to me last week struck a chord with me and I can’t shake it off. After I told her the complete switch in enthusiasm from Navy Man when I told him I wanted to be casual and friendly, she said, “You shouldn’t have said anything. You should have just let him treat you like the princess you are.”

“But I don’t want to be treated like a princess,” I said.

“Why the hell not?”

I thought about this for the past few days. I can’t be the only girl out there who feels uncomfortable using a guy to feel special, only to know that I’m not actually interested in him. I’m shocked that girls actually do this. They let these guys take them out to fancy restaurants, buy them presents, and then whisper to their girlfriends that they don’t really like him, they’re just waiting out the storm.

I feel weird if a guy even pays for me all the time. I just don’t think it’s necessary. I’m the type that if a man brings me to a fancy restaurant, I’ll order the cheapest item on the menu. I’m more of a hot-dog-cart-with-a-side-of-cheesy-fries kind of girl. But I know that’s just how my mom raised me. She always said, “Never depend on a man. Learn how to take care of yourself.” I think a mother with three daughters has to feed them that mindset nowadays. Especially a single mother.

Of course, it’s always nice to get pampered every once in a while. Some flowers or an ice cream run when I’m feeling down. But nothing major. I’ve been in relationships where I never got those things, mostly because we grew too comfortable with each other that we forgot how to appreciate one another. And even if those small gestures did happen, I was so surprised by the event that I was asking a million questions to figure out why it was happening.

I can’t help but wonder what would happen if the roles were reversed. What if was the one to ask a guy out on a date? What if was the one to court the guy around and pay for the date? This isn’t some feminist, all mighty woman power post. It’s just a thought. How would the date turn out in the end? Would it be the same? I feel like with every date, the guy is the one who is trying to impress, meanwhile, I think the girl should be equally impressive. We don’t give men enough credit. Some women out there might roll their eyes at that last statement but I’m serious. It takes a lot of guts to ask someone out. And then you have to take that person out and all of the pressure is on them to impress them, and make sure they’re having a good time. Here I am, nervous for nearly every single date, when it seems all I really have to do is stand there and look pretty, maybe laugh at his jokes, and share an anecdote or two. That’s my only job.

I’ve never laughed over a guy asking me out on a date. I’m always flattered, no matter who they are. But men get rejected all the time. For women, it’s once in a blue moon. And when it happens, it doesn’t feel good, does it? Let’s face it, ladies. When it comes to casually dating, we’re kind of spoiled. Even if you never make it to date number 2, you still got a free meal.

However, after discussing this with Myka and Meghan why we may perhaps feel weird about going on dates, no matter how long we’ve been doing it, it could be the slight chance that men have kind of given up. In 2017, a typical date is “Netflix and Chill”. We could have done that in the comfort of our own home. You invite us over to “watch a movie”. We know what that means, gentleman. We suddenly feel like they don’t want to actually get to know us, because who discusses life, hobbies, and family in the middle of a movie?

Of course, this post is all over the place. A lot of it may be contradicting. But that’s just because I’m another crazy woman who doesn’t know what she wants.

Books, Humor, Writing, You're Fine

My 2016 Reading Challenge: Another Failed Attempt

Welp, I failed my reading challenge once again. Another year has come and gone. I did a bit better than  2015, which gives me confidence that I will be able to handle 40 books in 2017. But for the time being, it looks like I can’t update my About Me page just yet.

Just like last year’s post, I’ll give you a list of the books I’ve read with a slightly sarcastic but very brief review. I had a bit of a dry spell. There were many books I read last year that I didn’t particularly enjoy. With that said, feel free to suggest any books I should read. And I’m talking about books I should read before I suddenly drop dead because they are so life changing that it could alter how I view the world, everyone in it, and myself.


1. The Life Changing Magic of Not Giving a F*** by Sarah Knight

Image result for the life changing magic of not givingThis book is a game changer. I thank Sarah Knight for my departure from Facebook. And being okay with not liking quinoa.









2. Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel

Image result for station elevenIf you love apocalyptic books, you should read this one! It’s centered around the Toronto area years into the future after a nasty epidemic takes over the world. A band of merrily theater folks move from town to town to continue entertaining those who are still alive while trying to defeat an evil man acting like he’s Jesus.







3. Me Before You by Jojo Moyes

Image result for Me Before YouAnother predictable love story. You can’t help but love it because…Emilia Clarke.










4. Home Is Burning by Dan Marshall

Image result for Home is burningThe prologue of this book is absolutely hilarious and worth the read. The rest? Not so much.










5. Everything Is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran-Foer

Image result for everything is illuminatedI get a strong sense that if I were to ever meet Jonathan Safran-Foer, I probably wouldn’t like him. His writing is not my cup of tea. First and foremost, this novel is based around the main character named Jonathan Safran-Foer. Yeah…you read that right. Secondly, his writing comes off as jargon(y) and almost condescending. If I have to look up a new word with each sentence, it’s going to annoy me rather than make me feel smarter.



6. The Last Girlfriend on Earth by Simon Rich

Image result for the last girlfriend on earthA collection of short stories about love. It doesn’t sound all that interesting until you come across a short story that’s in the point of view of a condom.








7. Me and Earl and the Dying Girl by Jesse Andrews

Image result for me and earl and the dying girlI’ve heard the movie is better than the book, and I don’t doubt it.










 8. Wedding Night by Sophie Kinsella

Image result for wedding night sophie kinsellaI know I keep telling you all how much I love Sophie Kinsella, but please avoid this book. It’s not her best. Girl wants to marry boy, boy does not want to get married, they break up, she meets up with ex-boyfriend, and elopes with him just a week later.









9. The Art of Fielding by Chad Harbach

Image result for the art of fielding book coverIf you like baseball, you might like this book. I’m not really sure. A pet peeve of mine is when things just happen without an explanation as to how it happened, which this book is filled with these moments. I need things to be realistic in a world when it’s supposed to be realistic.








10. Essays of E.B. White by E.B. White

Image result for essays of E.B. WhiteDeath of a Pig is amazing.










11. Z: A Novel of Zelda Fitzgerald by Therese Ann Fowler

Image result for z a novel of zelda fitzgeraldThis is one of the most interesting books I’ve read this year. I’m a big fan of The Great Gatsby but I knew nothing about Zelda Fitzgerald, the wife of one of the most famous writers in history. Even though this book is fiction, it makes you wonder just how grossly controlling F. Scott Fitzgerald may have been during his time with Zelda.







12. The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake by Aimee Bender

Image result for the particular sadness of lemon cakeOne of my favorite books I’ve read this year! At the age of nine, Rose discovers that she has a secret power to feel the emotions in food. Her mother bakes her a lemon cake for her birthday, and she can instantly feel her mother’s sadness and depression from the piece of cake. I got to the end completely horrified that I stood in my shower and stared at the wall.








13. Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte

Image result for wuthering heightsI personally enjoyed Charlotte Bronte more.












14. The Unfortunate Importance of Beauty by Amanda Filipacchi

Image result for the unfortunate importance of beautyI hated every second of this book that thirty pages in, I tossed it at the wall. It started out strong. The main character is supposedly drop dead gorgeous but she wants to meet the man of her dreams in an ugly costume because she wants to be accepted by her inner beauty instead. Love the concept, hate the execution. She’s also an Oscar winning costume designer for major motion pictures, and each of her friends are equally successful, one of them being a Nobel Piece Prize winner for a novel, the other being a famous cellist in a New York City orchestra. And none of them are older than 26. Yeah…okay.






15. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

Image result for the picture of dorian grayI absolutely loved this book. It’s creepy, vain, and a little sadistic. I don’t suggest watching the movie starring Colin Firth though. It’s full of orgies, and I don’t think that is entirely what Oscar Wilde had in mind.











16. To The Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf

Image result for to the lighthouseThis was my third attempt at reading To The Lighthouse, and each time I found myself on page 50, and not able to recap anything that had happened.











17. One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Image result for one hundred years of solitudeA lot of superstition, some light incest, and a couple of executions, all in this teeny tiny town in Colombia.












18. The Help by Kathryn Stockett

Image result for the helpI recommend this book to everyone. Eugenia Phelan is my hero.












19. The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins

Image result for the girl on the trainI’m pretty sure this was my first murder mystery novel I’ve read and it was quite the page turner. And my personality matched the victim’s personality almost perfectly. I’m just not as promiscuous.










20. Me, My Hair, and I by Elizabeth Benedict

Image result for me, my hair and iA book of essays strictly around hair.












21.) All The Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr

Image result for all the light we cannot seeI’ve already discussed this book before, so I won’t go into great detail about it. The author’s imagery is stunning and memorable.











22.) Landline by Rainbow Rowell

Image result for landline rainbow rowellI’ve heard great things about Rainbow Rowell so I was really excited to read this book. The main character Georgie is having marital problems, and her husband sounds like a douchenozzle who doesn’t support her success/career. She finds an old telephone in her bedroom and realizes she’s able to call her husband in the past, before they were married, which gives her the opportunity to fix everything. Once again, her husband is a douchenozzle.







23.) Harry Potter and the Cursed Child by J.K. Rowling

Image result for harry potter and the cursed childI have much to say about this book. Number one, it was not necessary. Number two, I hated that it was written out like a stage play, mostly because it actually was a play in London. Number three, it was disgustingly cheesy. I gave the book three stars but seriously, don’t waste your time.










24.) Smoke Gets In Your Eyes by Caitlin Doughty

dfdsfsIf you want to know the true horrors of how a body decomposes, this is your book.












25.) Yes, Please! by Amy Poehler

fdAmy is probably one of the coolest celebrities to read about.












26.) The Girl with the Lower Back Tattoo by Amy Schumer

rerPeople either love Amy Schumer, or they hate her. I’m one of the people who love her. I found her memoir to be surprising in many ways. For instance, she’s not this raunchy, one-night stand kind of girl as she is perceived through her stand-up and even in her movie, Trainwreck. She struggled quite a bit to be a comedian, which made me respect her even more. I personally think you get the real Amy Schumer when you read her book. But don’t get me wrong, she’s no literary genius.








27.) Room by Emma Donoghue

srIt’s not everyday that you read an adult novel narrated by a five-year-old. But it’s certainly fascinating. The movie is just as wonderful as the book.












28.) Against Joie de Vivre by Phillip Lopate

gdI don’t quite remember this book sooooooo…












29.) Looking For Alaska by John Green

gfdI wanted to punch Alaska in the face. Not the state, the character. She was this trashy little teenager who flirted with EVERYONE, and I’m sorry, but did she wear clothes? Ever? Yet, every teenage boy had a crush on her. WHAT A SHOCKER.









30.) The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follet

dfgfAn entire book happened in the first ten pages. It was too much for me.












31.) Swann’s Way by Marcel Proust

fsI only ever thought about Gilmore Girls when Max gave it to Lorelai to read and she pretended she finished.












32.) Ghostland: An American History in Haunted Places by Colin Dickey

aHe covers everything from the Winchester Mystery House to the Salem Witch Trials. I really love ghost stories, and this guy ruined them for me. It was like watching Ghost Adventures if Zak Bagans were condescending.










33.) Fates and Furies by Lauren Groff

dfIt’s about a marriage I didn’t particularly care about.













34.) Big Fish by Daniel Wallace

dsSuch a bizarre book that I didn’t quite understand.













35.) The BFG by Roald Dahl

erewI can’t believe I haven’t read this book until now. I want a big, friendly giant to come to my window and blow dreams into my room with his trumpet. It sounds pleasant.










36.) M Train by Patti Smith

drfShe drinks a shit ton of black coffee.

Awkward, Festivities, Internet Things, My Idea Of Being An Adult, Out of the Ordinary, Thoughts, You're Fine

Dear America

I still remember the presidential election of 2000. I was in the fourth grade learning about politics for the first time. Since most kids typically vote for the candidate their families vote for, I was rooting for George Bush. I come from a mostly Republican family. My best friend at the time, Megan, came from a mostly Democrat family, and her vote was for Al Gore. When Bush won, I jumped up and down for joy while Megan kicked her feet around saying, “Gosh darn it!” and we still ate lunch together as if nothing ever happened.

The same exact thing happened in 2004 with George Bush and John Kerry. I still managed to keep my Democrat friends close even after George Bush won. So, I ask America, what in the world happened to us? Unless I just grew up, opened my eyes, and realized what was actually going on.

The 2008 election was just a small taste for what we were in for: hatred. My best friend at the time, Katherine, was voting Obama and she let me know every day what a terrible mistake it would be if I rooted for McCain. I must admit, that election was during my senior year of high school and I honestly didn’t pay attention as much as others did because I had college applications and SAT’s on the brain. But, my family was voting for McCain. However, that didn’t alter Katherine’s hateful and sarcastic comments one bit.

The 2012 election, I was paying attention to the best of my ability. I voted Romney. And from a sorta-kinda-Republican/Independent point of view, this is what happened:

My college campus was jam packed with Obama buses to bring students to the nearest town hall to vote. Thousands of students were shoving Obama signs in my face, yelling at me to vote. Most of my friends spent the day screaming at the television about how much Romney sucked, and nobody was voting for him (which is ridiculous since obviously people were voting for him). I actually had people who I considered close friends express their hatred for Republicans, which made me uncomfortable to no end.

After Obama won, I wasn’t upset. I went to bed and slept like a baby. However, a former co-worker on Facebook figured out that I didn’t vote for Obama, and it MUST have been because he’s black right? Which he then felt the need to express all over the Facebook page of my employer at the time, asking them how they could hire a racist? That racist was apparently me, and he wrote my name out in all caps. Luckily, my boss was able to delete the comment immediately and block the person. But that didn’t stop the cooks from making racist jokes every time I walked by. I spent most of my shift in the bathroom crying.

Ever since that particular election, I’ve been too afraid to voice my own opinion in a country where we claim we can go ahead and do that. Between the Facebook posts bashing not just Republicans but Democrats too, to the unwanted political conversations where all I do is fold my hands and stare at the floor, it’s become too much. I understand this election has turned us into a mockery for other countries. A sort of lesson on “What Not To Do”. But I am here to say that whoever my friends and family vote for, I’m not going to berate them for their choices, and neither should the rest of you.

I haven’t asked one single person who they are voting for because it’s simply none of my business. I was raised to “never bring up politics at the dinner table” and I maintain that even more now. We have to get a grip and remember that not every Republican is so far right and not every Democrat is so far left. For every person you make fun of, whether they are voting Clinton or Trump, you are insulting someone you know or their families. It baffles me that I feel the need to write this to adults. I’ve been wanting to say these words since 2008 and I don’t want to be afraid anymore. It’s not fair.

So, whether you’re a Republican, Democrat, Independent, or what have you, I wish you all a safe Election Day. Don’t forget to stash those nips in your pocket for later.


Humor, Out of the Ordinary, Sarcasm

Guest Post: Life as a Royal – Alex from Only Bad Chi


I’ve always been a huge Marie Antoinette fan. I nearly dedicated a final paper in college to Marie and her unfortunate execution. I’m a firm believer that she never said, “Let them eat cake!”  Fun fact: her final words before her execution were, “pardon me, sir. I meant not to do it.” She accidentally stepped on the foot of her executioner. She seemed like a real doll. #TeamMarie

With that said, the Palace of Versailles is easily one of my favorite places on earth. Everything from the Hallway of Mirrors to her mysterious Le Petit Trianon, I could spend days, even weeks on this beautiful property. I’ve asked Alex from Only Bad Chi to imagine what her life would be like as a royal, and it’s pretty badass. 

200-29It’s hard for me to imagine what my life would be like as a royal, because the only thing I’m the queen of is not having my shit together. But if I were a true royal, I’d like to think I would be a subversive one. Because I have an issue with the existence of royalty on principle–to crown one set of human beings as essentially more important than all others is absurd. It’s elitist, arbitrary, and dangerous. (Don’t get me wrong–I don’t think “democracy” is any better–it’s just another way of anointing royalty, but worse, because it purports to be egalitarian). The establishment of a societal hierarchy, whether via undemocratic democracy or bloodline, seems to me to serve no other purpose than to enrich the few at the cost of the many. So if I were born into that, I would rebel. I would try to be charitable, giving away as much of my “property” as I could before the higher ups stopped me. Like, I would literally be throwing loaves of bread to the poor from the rooftop (palace-top?). I would wear regular clothes (aka spandex), decline a fancy wedding (let’s be real I would be the spinster of the family anyways), and not use my status to get out of speeding tickets. I would get a job, continue to look like a walking misfortune, and clean up after myself(/let my dishes pile up but expect no one else to take care of them). I would go to public school, absolutely REFUSE to partake in anything involving the word “polo,” lose my security detail, and just generally tell the monarchy to suck it.

So basically if I were royal I would not be royal. I’m doing a really bad job at answering this question. I guess my point is I would try to use my power to affect positive change. Like Princess Diana, only chubbier and without the death by conspiracy.

Books, Humor, Movies, Sarcasm

Breakdown of “Girl on the Train”

**This contains spoilers. If you intend to watch the movie or read the book, you best stop here mate.**

A long, long while back, I wrote a post that basically made fun of the movie Troy. I’m back again to do the same thing as it has been far too long. A few months ago I read Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins, and I devoured it in about three days. It’s a murder mystery book centered around a drunk named Rachel who may have  something to do with the disappearance of Megan Hipwell. I personally enjoyed the book, especially for someone who doesn’t typically read murder mysteries. What freaked me out the most was the fact that Megan Hipwell too closely resembled me, minus the promiscuity.


Some similarities between myself and Megan Hipwell:

  • She was an artist.
  • She had interests working in an art gallery.
  • She couldn’t find a job and resorted to being a nanny for a little while.
  • She was in a unhealthy relationship that contained lies, secrets, and spying.
  • Drunken Rachel doesn’t actually know Megan but only from a distance on the train as she passes her house, and Rachel gives her the name “Jess”.
  • Megan is not keen on uncomfortable situations and avoids them at all costs.
  • She was bored and lonely.
  • She was restless.

Nearly every situation and personality trait, other than the fact that Megan tried masturbating in front of her therapist, matched up with me.

dfdI went to see the movie last night with Mr. Jess, and I feel as though I was laughing more than I should have for such a serious movie. The book left me in psychological disarray while the movie left me in stitches. Luckily, Mr. Jess laughed at all of the same parts as I did.

Meet Rachel

fgfdsdRachel jumps on the 8:00am train to New York (in the book it’s London, but whatever). You think she’s going to a job, but in reality, she’s just riding the train getting schwasted and passing her old house in Ardsley that she used to share with her husband, Tom, but he cheated on her with his current wife Anna because Rachel was too busy downing a bottle or two of wine every night. Turns out, she couldn’t get pregnant while married to Tom and it devastated her to the point of drunken stupor. As she rides the train, she notices a young couple in a house just a few doors down from her old one. To her, they are everything she wants. They seem loving, affectionate, and horny all of the time since she has seen them having sex multiple times from the train. She’s just a sad mess of a human.

One morning, she sees Jess (aka Megan) kissing another man and she goes a bit nutty. She gets rip roaring drunk, goes on the train, decides she wants to confront Jess and call her a “whore”, but she’s so drunk she can’t remember a thing. She wakes up the next morning covered in mudblood, mud and blood and then suddenly, Jess is missing.

Meet Megan

girl-on-the-train-trailer-03Megan is a very complex character because she has many secrets. She also can’t seem to keep her panties on. Seriously, girl? STOP HAVING SEX IN FRONT OF WINDOWS. I avoid windows like cats avoid water. I’m always assuming someone is watching. At least put some curtains up. Damn.

Anyways, that’s not even all of it. She stands on her terrace in a bra and panties, watching the train go by. PUT SOME CLOTHES ON, MEGAN. WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS NAKED? People can see you! You’re drop dead gorgeous, therefore, you are not invisible.

Okay, let’s try this again. She’s trying to seduce her therapist, which I believe is just a way to prove that she can take and screw whoever she wants. She’s married to a controlling man who reads her emails, yet she finds it endearing no matter how many times her therapist says it’s not, and it’s just plain creepy. She’s having a secret affair with another mystery man, which I’ll get to later. <<< I’m sure this last sentence didn’t shock you.

Meet Scott

girl-on-the-train-trailer-04Megan’s crazy hubby. Doesn’t he look like someone with some serious anger issues? The muscles with the buzz cut and scruff. Constant scowl on his face.

He’s always slamming tables and shouting. No wonder Megan was doing the bang bang with some other dude. Nearly every scene involving them two, they were having sex, and it was always started by this guy. He clearly man-handled Megan like a table. Other than his wretched personality, there’s not much to his character or past that is even relevant to this blog post.

Meet Anna

GOT Props000850.RAF

Anna is Tom’s current wife and mother of his child. She was the “other woman” when Tom was married to Rachel and now she’s been wifed up and living in Rachel’s former house, folding Rachel’s sheets and cleaning Rachel’s dining room table she picked out. Bitch. She really enjoyed the fact that she was the other woman, but all of a sudden she’s acting like Mother Teresa now that she has a baby. When Megan quits her job as their nanny, Anna says, “What other job is more important than being a mother?” Way to set females back fifty years! Good job, Anna.

Meet Tom

xvTHE MURDERER HIMSELF. Turns out, he knocked up Megan and when she tried to tell him, he killed her in a fit of rage with a rock in the woods. Such a classic scenario for Anna. She cheats with him, yet somehow doesn’t think he will just do the same thing to her. Idiot.

The ending scene is fabulous as the truth comes out. Anna is freaking out on him because she now knows he was doing the deed with Megan in their own house, and his response was, “You were so tired all the time…”


Of course she was you dickweed. She was taking care of your baby. Eventually, Rachel, out of self-defense, kills Tom with a wine opener (how poetic) in his backyard. Anna comes running out, bends down, and twists the opener lodged in his throat to “help”.

Anna and Rachel, bitter enemies…and now frenemies.

That’s it for my breakdown. If you still have an interest in the movie/book, here’s the trailer for your entertainment.

Humor, I Wasn't Worried, Insomnia, My Idea Of Being An Adult, Rant, Sarcasm, You're Fine

I Need a Paper Bag and a Bottle of White Zin

I don’t get easily stressed.

Well that was a big fat lie. I actually get very stressed but I pretend like none of it bothers me so that I can keep my cool and lie to myself even more.

I stress out about everything. I’m surprised I don’t have more anxiety attacks. I have one maybe once a year, and each time it creeps up my shoulder like the grim reaper. Why does my chest feel like this? Am I having a heart attack? Are the walls bleeding?

If something bad happens, I do a Nick Miller head nod and say, “Well…that happened…” And then I brush off the fleck of stress off my shoulder and continue with my day like I’m cool as a cucumber. I do this over and over and over again for months until one day, I explode. It’s like an episode of Ren and Stimpy, and I whip my head around my environment taking mental screenshots of everything I’m avoiding: the dishes are piling up, I need to take out the trash, I haven’t glanced at my mail for two weeks, my unfinished painting is looking sad, is that mold I smell in my sink?, why does it sound like my cat is choking to death every morning?, and for the love of God can he please stop clawing at all of my nice furniture?, am I going bald?, why does my hairline make me look like one of those patients in a Bosley commercial?, I still haven’t registered my car (I hope I don’t get pulled over and have to do the whole “Look at me, Officer. I’m cute. Please don’t yell.”), I have a zit the size of my evil twin on my neck.

Welcome to the inside of my mind. Grab a drink, take a load off because I certainly can’t. I feel like Mrs. Bennett in Pride & Prejudice and I don’t even have five daughters to marry off.

There has been a lot of things happening since last week that my mind simply cannot grasp and/or handle. When I reach a certain point, I babble and say/do weird things. I’ve been so up and down about various things that I feel my heart might burst into flames. So many people tell me I need to de-stress so I Googled some ways to do that and I already call quits on most of them.

1. Meditate

What am I, a monk?

Meditating would look a little like me sitting on my bed eating an entire bag of popcorn and not breaking eye contact with my cat.

2. Exercise

I already exercise regularly, so with my tsunami-like brain waves, my running has been golden. I’ve been walking into Planet Fitness like Usain Bolt. But what do I do after I run off all of those bad vibes? I stress eat. It’s like I never even went to the gym.

3. Drink Green Tea

Because sticking leaves that closely resemble marijuana into a steaming hot cup of water is going to make my troubles go away. Why don’t I just stop shaving and pray every evening to a bowl of granola while I’m at it?

4. Take a Nap

Sure, I could stumble into my apartment after work, crash on my bed and pass out at 5pm. But it doesn’t change the fact that my student loans need to be paid the following day.

I’d rather just take a bottle of wine to my face, talk to my pile of mail, and go to bed.

Tell me some of your de-stressers, or lack thereof. I’ll be sure to take some notes.

Awkward, Girls, Humor

Shopping with Men: My Thoughts

I’m trying to tackle the psychological reasoning behind girls bringing their male significant others shopping. I feel like since the beginning of my time here on planet earth, I’ve been one of the few percent who hate shopping with boys. I truly despise the experience. If I walk into a store and I spot a boy tagging along with his girlfriend to the point that he should just wear a leash, I make a B line to the other end of the store to avoid him at all costs. Why, you ask? Because I can smell the fresh scent of an awkward death by hanger approaching. Or I’m just trying to convince the males of the universe that I naturally look this wonderful and I put zero effort into it at all. It’s probably a mix of both.

Remember that Good Charlotte band? Did they fall off the face of the earth or have I been out of the loop? Anyways, they wrote this song called “Boys & Girls” where they claim girls don’t like boys, girls like cars and money. Sure, if you’re a famous man with unlimited fortune. But for the average Joe, I’ve never seen this happen. You don’t see some Target sales manager in his thirties being dragged by his girlfriend to Gucci stores and drooling over his 1996 Hyundai. So I call bullshit on Good Charlotte and everything angsty that they represent.
From my observation, there are two types of girls who bring boys with them to go shopping. The first is the girl who has the unrealistic sense that her boyfriend is going to give her fashion advice. This is where those girls just keeping digging themselves into a hole. Her expectations are that her boyfriend is going to be like, “Oh Amanda, teal works perfectly with your skin tone.” Guys are smart because they know they cannot say anything negative about the floral blouse his girlfriend just picked out because that will result in a 24 hour fight where she calls him crying and yelling, “YOU THINK I’M FAT, DON’T YOU?”
Instead, it looks a little more like this:
The boyfriend looks up from his phone.
“What do you think of this?”
“Um, yeah. Looks great,” he says. And then before you know it, you’re purchasing an outfit that closely resembles the customers of Walmart that Buzzfeed keeps posting as if it’s news. All because you dragged your boyfriend who most likely does not want to be there and will do and say just about anything to keep his sanity.

fgfdgThe second type of girl is the one who expects her boyfriend to pay for these items. This also makes no sense to me because majority of the dudes I see following their girlfriends around the racks are teenagers. And they don’t have any money. I don’t care if he makes $10.50 an hour at the water park working part-time. He has no money to spare. So hold onto that $5 Claire’s ring tightly because that’s all you’re getting for a long time.
But what bothers me about it is the never ending topic of feminism. It’s what we all wanted, isn’t it? So by pulling your boyfriend into a store, finding a pair of jeans and looking at him with puppy dog eyes isn’t setting us back fifty years, then I don’t know what. If you’re a working woman, buy the damn jeans yourself. If you’re not a working woman, better go ask your mom!
I recently went shopping with Mr. Jess and it was as awkward as you could imagine. Mostly on my part. We went to the Outlets in Connecticut and each store we passed, he asked me if I wanted to go in. I felt like a toddler being asked by her parents if she wanted to sit on Santa’s lap but he seemed a lot bigger in person than she’d imagined so she instead backed away slowly nearly knocking down the Christmas tree. I kept nodding my head shyly, secretly hoping he’d be like, “Hey, I need a tie. Let’s go in here.”

We walked up to a Brooks Brothers and we both made eye contact that we should maybe sorta kinda go in. Only we walked in, stared at each other in silence before Mr. Jess finally said, “I don’t actually have an interest in this store.” And I said, “I don’t either.” We stroked a shirt and ran out. We were in the store for a total of fifteen seconds.
When we found J. Crew (which, by the way, I’d like to be buried in, in case any of you bloggers are responsible for the placement of my dead body), I was finally in my happy place. That is, until Mr. Jess said he wanted to buy me something. I followed it with an “ICK” noise, and then a, “Why?” He seemed confused by my reaction. When a guy asks to buy me something, I immediately feel like this is a Hugh Hefner moment, and I’m just one of his playmates he’s trying to amuse. After I apologized for my response as if he had just told me he had Ebola, I politely declined the offer. Most girls probably would have slapped me. I guess it’s just how I’m wired.
Perhaps I’m the weird one. Feel free to express that to me.

Humor, Rant, You're Fine

I’m a Casual Fan

If you hear me say, “I love sports,” you can go ahead and believe me. But take it lightly.

I do love sports. You should see me when March Madness starts. I’m an absolute lunatic. But that’s probably the only event in sports that you would see me act this way. Everything else, I’m as mellow as a Southern Belle sipping lemonade in summer.

My biggest struggle when admitting that I love sports is being questioned as to why I don’t watch every game, or know every player, event, arrest, what-have-you, in the news.

When I first started my job in Connecticut, I learned that everyone in the office seems to agree on two things: dogs and baseball. They all LOVE baseball. When they’re not showing each other puppy videos, they are talking about the most recent game. But I’m in a sea of Mets and Yankees fans, while I’m the lonely Red Sox girl who gets crapped on, but to be honest, I’m used to it by now. When I learned my boss is a huge Yankees fan, I bought the most obnoxious Red Sox mug on Amazon and sipped my coffee early in the morning to see if she would react. She definitely noticed.

But now, as Amy Schumer puts it, I have to “fake it til I make it”. I have people come up to me and say, “So how about those Red Sox!? I bet you’re happy.” The awkward thing is that I didn’t watch the game. So I just nod and do a very enthusiastic, “Oh yeah!” and quickly move onto another topic.

I do love the Red Sox. If the game is on, I’ll watch it. But I don’t go out of my way to watch it. Do you get what I’m saying? I have things to do. There are times when I’d rather read or paint. Sue me. I gave up “trying” to prove myself last year when a guy said to me, “Oh, you like the Red Sox? Name five players on the team.” Sexist much? When I named the five players, he scoffed and said, “HE WAS TRADED TWO WEEKS AGO.”

“Wow! A whole two weeks!? You’re right. I’m just a dumb girl trying to fit in with the guys.”

200wSorry, but I have a life. I’m not always paying attention.

I get the reaction, “So, you’re not a real fan.” What does that even mean? Because I don’t paint my face or punch a wall, I’m not a real fan? I think that’s absurd. I feel like girls have it tough when it comes to watching sports. If we don’t show interest, we are just like every other typical girl. If we show too much interest, we must be faking it or trying to impress someone, which follows with the test, “Name five players on the team.” You wouldn’t say that to your bro, would you?

I will straight up tell you that I hate football. Everyone devotes their ENTIRE Sunday to watching every single game on TV. It’s not how I want to spend my last free day before the dreaded Monday. So, while the rest of the world is freaking the fuck out, I hole myself up with a book until it’s all over. I don’t even pretend to care. If the Patriots win, I’m all like, “Yay, that’s great! Want to go grab a pizza?”

Therefore, I am a casual fan. If you invite me to a baseball game, I will happily attend. If you want to check the score of the football game, I will not protest. But don’t expect me to know statistics, or what position a player plays.

I Wasn't Worried, I'm not a mommy blogger, My Idea Of Being An Adult, Out of the Ordinary

To Apply, Or Not To Apply?

A photo by Nirzar Pangarkar.’ve been applying to jobs since 2012. I began my search during my first semester of senior year, and I got a good taste of what it’s really like to be searching for that perfect job. Of course, no job is perfect. Even when I had a job, I was still searching, searching, searching. After four longs years, I can’t help but think, have I been wasting my time?

They say, “It’s all about who you know.” As a millennial, I can’t stress enough, especially for upcoming college graduates, how true that statement really is. Every single job I’ve had since my college graduation, I didn’t receive because I applied to their job posting. I received the jobs through staffing agencies and family friends. I’ve applied to hundreds of job postings with real, genuine interest, and 99% of the time I never got a call back or an email. I learned a couple of years ago that most companies simply post a job on their website because they have to, and they almost always hire from within, or hire someone they know. So all those hours, cover letters, applications, may have been a waste of time.

This makes finding a job, especially for those like me who are weak at networking, extremely difficult. I’ve never liked the feeling that I’m using the person to get ahead. That is what networking feels like. There’s something about it that doesn’t sit right with me.

I’ve also had those close calls. That ounce of hope and shimmer of excitement of a possible job. I recently had that experience and it came crashing down this morning. A recruiter based in London contacted me on LinkedIn. It was the first time something useful and positive has come out of my LinkedIn profile. The position was for an art gallery in Manhattan with the job requirements matching the exact experience I have on my resume. THIS was my dream job, for sure. I was so excited, and the recruiter called me in the early hours of 6am due to the time difference. I was enthusiastic and everything sounded promising. Until the gallery decided against looking into all candidates, and wanted someone with the exact experience in a similar gallery. Naturally, I was frustrated simply because they didn’t even give me a chance. My qualifications matched their needs. My interest and love for art was obvious. I had a recruiter writing on my behalf, explaining that I was a great candidate for them. So, I sit here baffled as to why I continuously get rejected without even a chance to speak on my behalf. And I understand that I’m not the only one.

I let the recruiter know how thankful I was that she contacted me, even after the disappointing news. I’m thankful because it gave me hope, and she saw something in me that most people have overlooked. Even though everything fell through, I’m glad it happened.

So, to answer my question: Is it a waste of time to apply to job postings? I’m not really sure. Maybe. All I know is that every opportunity that has come my way has been because I know someone, or I know someone who knows someone. The rest is entirely up to you.

Awkward, Festivities, Humor, I'm not a mommy blogger, Memories, You're Fine

5 Reasons I Hate Concerts

I’ve only been to a handful of concerts in my life. My first one was to see Joey McIntyre with my sisters and my mom. I was probably seven at the time. Some of you might remember him from New Kids on the Block. I went to see Jewel when I was twelve and it was just as mellow as you could imagine. I saw Panic! at the Disco somewhere around sixteen, then The All-American Rejects when I was eighteen, some random country band that I don’t remember the name of in college, Mumford and Sons back in June, and then recently last weekend Blink-182.

I can easily say that I hate going to concerts. I don’t understand how people could go to Coachella. I expressed this while living in California when my neighbor said, “It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. Coachella is a place to go when you really want to get into the music.” A little shrooms and acid probably helped his situation. I absolutely love music. I can’t drive in a car, go for a walk, or clean my apartment without it. But I don’t love it so much that I feel the need to experience it live with thousands of other people in a dirty stadium, side by side like a bunch of sardines.

Let me just give you my list of reasons for despising concerts.

1.) Constantly needing to pee.

Finding a bathroom in a crowd of twenty thousand people is terrible. Not only do you have a high chance of getting lost in the sea of people and not finding your way back, but you most likely have to stand in a line, or go to the bathroom in a porta potty. Just the very idea of going to the bathroom sounds exhausting and I’d rather get a UTI.

2.) Dealing with other people.

Half of them are screaming in your ear while the other half are drunk or high off something and bother you to no end. You have to watch other people dance, and that’s usually painful. They are always bumping into you, or you have to avoid a mosh pit. tumblr_mn8bh5MYEN1s287fvo1_500

3.) If you’re short, you probably can’t see a thing.

At least they have a TV screen so you can see what’s happening on stage, right?

4.) There’s a lot of standing involved.

You’re standing in line for food, for the bathroom, to get into the concert, to leave the concert, watching the actual concert and before you know it, you’ve been standing longer than the viewing of Gone with the Wind, including the intermission.

5.) Traffic.

Enough said.


And we do all of this for the low low price of $200, approximately.

I’d rather stay home and listen to their music on iTunes while singing in a hairbrush and my cat hides under the covers.

Humor, Internet Things, My Idea Of Being An Adult, You're Fine

Five Years FAUXward

I haven’t watched the summer finale of Pretty Little Liars yet, so please, no spoilers. But honestly, I’ve grown to not care anymore. It’s the same predictable crap over and over again. SOMEONE DIES. “Oops! Jokes on you guys!”, says Marlene King. I’m going to guess that someone dies in the summer finale, or gets close enough to death to scare the bejesus out of viewers. What bugs me is that none of the liars are actually ever close to dying compared to all of the other characters. They’ve had close calls but realistically, we all knew those bitches were not going to die. Looking back, their close calls are comical. Like in season one when Toby chases Emily out of the dance and she has this weird fall and somehow breaks her arm. Or Spencer getting choked by Ian in the bell tower, very Poe-like by the way. Hanna has had more brushes of death than anyone else when she gets run over by the car, and then most recently held hostage. Oh yeah, and let’s not forget Aria disappearing from a train FULL OF PEOPLE leaving her dramatic Leonardo di Caprio hand print against the window only to find her in a coffin with an irrelevant dead guy.


They aired the “Five Years Forward” back in January, and I was on board with everyone else, excited to see a change in the show. I was looking forward to seeing how the girls progressed in the course of five years, but I was met with disappointment because absolutely nothing changed. Let’s discuss these “changes” Marlene King had in store for us:


Spencer is/was some big time political advocate of some sorts, working in Washington D.C. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she was the President’s assistant within a year or two. Hanna quit her insane assistant to a designer job and is now happily starting her own clothing line with the help of Lucas who is a millionaire all on his own at the age of twenty-three. Aria landed an editorial job at a publishing house and is now going to be a best-selling author. Let’s not forget Allison, who is a high school English teacher after spending most of her high school career in hiding, yet somehow managed to finish college and get her teaching certificate.


I thought these girls were supposed to be fresh out of college? What happened to the unpaid internships and eating Chinese food out of the container in the dark because you can’t afford electricity? Or the fetching of coffee because you’re at the bottom of the totem pole?

The only liar who has the most realistic job right after college is Emily, who is now a bartender. Good for you, Em! You’re keepin’ it real.

*I realize she hasn’t actually finished college yet, but you get the picture.*


Everyone is getting married. Hanna was engaged, but BIG SURPRISE, now she’s not. Toby is engaged to someone irrelevant and is currently building a house for his love in Maine. Aria and Ezra were about to elope in Italy until they found out Nicole might still be alive (and then when they found out she wasn’t, Aria so badly wanted to throw a dance party to celebrate her continuous death). Allison eloped with that psycho Elliot and then tripped on a bump in a rug that somehow Elliot planted, and we all watched her fall dramatically down a flight of stairs. I laughed out loud.

Also, everyone except for Spencer somehow ended up with their ex. We all know the Emily and Paige story will continue.



Now that the liars are of age, they obviously will be drinking in every single scene.


Here’s how it actually works after college: you go to your shitty job, come home after sitting in bumper to bumper traffic, put on your sweats, throw on Friends, eat take-out, and then remember at 10pm that you should have had a glass of wine, go to bed instead.

Sticky Situations

It really hit home for me last week when the girls found the zip drive that contained all of the videos from when they were in the bunker. As it turns out, Noel Kahn was in on everything the whole time. You could see his face clear as day. Spencer wanted to hand that shit over to the police but Hanna was nowhere to be found because she was too busy being stupid, trying to trap Noel and nearly killing herself in the process. The girls were all kumbaya about it and were like, “Hanna isn’t here. It’s only right that we do this thing together.”


Why?! They were acting like they were having a girls day and were about to go get their nails done and were scared Hanna would feel left out if she wasn’t informed first. So naturally, they waited like the dumbasses that they are. Spencer hears a noise in her house, freaks out, sees a shadow and OH LOOK, THE ZIP DRIVE IS GONE. Any chance to take down Noel Kahn is ruined.

Congrats, girls. You’ve done it again.

Their common sense and maturity level is still at an all time low.

And how many mysterious love children are going to turn up in this show? Your estimates are much appreciated.

I guarantee the series will end wrapped up in pretty paper with a nice big bow on top. Everyone will get what they want.

P.S. The guy who plays Marco, Spencer’s new love interest, is like 40 years old….

Previous Liars posts:

The Fundamental Dynamics of All Things Ridiculous Portrayed in Pretty Little Liars

Another Pretty Little Liars Discussion

Anecdote, Awkward, Books, Humor, Things I Should Have Solved A Year Ago, Writing

Voice Control

There is this stereotype that writer’s are depressing, sad, lonely creatures who do nothing but drink and wallow at their computer. It’s amazing to me that some writers actually believe this stereotype too, as if those are the qualities they must possess in order to succeed. When I was editor-in-chief for my graduate literary journal, we all gathered together to brainstorm ideas for our upcoming issue and the theme we wanted to use. Picking a theme is hard because you want something vague enough that will allow writers to be creative and submit something unique. The previous issue dealt with the theme “Memory”, and majority of the nonfiction submissions were about Dementia/Alzheimer’s. It made the decision process rather difficult because we couldn’t narrow any of them down.

One editor suggested the theme “Joy”. I loved it. And many of the other editors did too. It was challenging and unique compared to the other journals out there.

There were a couple of editors who were not thrilled with it. They both suggested, “Sorrow”.

“I just feel like not many writers will be able to relate to joy,” one of them said. I had a really hard time digesting this.

During that same residency in my MFA program, I had submitted a humorous piece as my workshop sample. I wanted it to be part of my memoir/final thesis, and the topic was dating, among other things. I had written about my very first boyfriend in the seventh grade, and I had meant for the whole piece to be funny because looking back on it now, it’s funny to me. I’m a naturally sarcastic person who loves comedy, so I figured I would take a stab at being funny in my writing. I had a blast writing it compared to my other writing experiences. My workshop teacher seemed to love it, and many of the students did as well except for one. He had no idea that it was meant to be funny, and didn’t find one comical thing about the entire piece. In fact, he was saddened by it if anything. I was really confused by this and wondered if maybe I wasn’t all that great at writing funny material.

I had many workshop teachers and mentors who didn’t typically write funny things. Therefore, I shut that part of my brain off completely, and since then I’ve struggled. When I don’t add humor to my writing, I feel like a fake and a phony. I don’t feel myself, and everything that spills out of my fingertips makes me want to vomit a little bit. It feels as though I’m screaming from the rooftops, “Boohoo! Poor me! Everyone should feel sorry for me!” Personally, if my memoir is ever published, I don’t want people to finish the book and be consumed with pity and sympathy. I want people to walk away relaxed, calm, and amused. I want them to laugh, cry, yell, scream, and cringe because those are all the things I’ve been doing when writing this damn thing.

dfdI’m reaching the end of Amy Poehler’s memoir Yes Please, and I’m finally getting my funny bone back. Within the first twenty pages, Amy reminded me of things I’ve forgotten about, and I’ve added quite a bit of new material to my memoir that I actually feel proud of. She made me feel good about adding humor to my writing, and the different ways I could approach it without it being displaced.

It’s hard as a writer to please everyone, and you have to remember that you can’t. Some people are going to love your writing and others will not. So stop listening to others and how they think your writing should sound. Don’t be afraid to write as if you are talking to your best friend in the whole world. Screw the rest.

Now that the tone of my memoir has shifted drastically, the titles have been a lot more fun to come up with:

I Wasn’t Invited to the Party

My Balloon’s Deflated

Picked Last in P.E.

Personally, I Wasn’t Invited to the Party is my current favorite because it’s true. I was never invited to any parties.