Awkward, Humor, I Wasn't Worried, Manic Monday, My Idea Of Being An Adult, You're Fine

Donald Glover Got It Right

I watched Donald Glover’s standup last night for the first time in over a year, and it was just as funny the second time around. He makes a joke about how Home Depot is where children die. When you’re a kid and you’re forced to go to Home Depot with your parents, you’re all like, “This is so boring! I can’t even touch anything!” And then the moment you walk in again and you’re like, “Oh! Look at these knobs!” That’s when your childhood dies. A beige, concrete hole of childhood graves.

My childhood died years ago when I got excited over a new lamp at Cost Plus. And I starting saving home decor pins on Pinterest. But I have officially crossed over onto the dark side because ladies and gentleman, I pulled my back out.

I’m currently sitting on my couch because I can’t move. It’s been bothering me for a couple of days now so I figured I slept funny one night. But then I went to get up, felt the stiff pull, and collapsed onto the couch and attempted to get up four times before rolling back over onto my blanket. I’ve popped three Midol pills, and here I sit, in annoying, excruciating pain.

It’s like that episode of Gilmore Girls when Lorelai gets a back spasm from making Rory’s dress for the dance.

First step: Denial.

Second step: Convincing yourself that you are moving

Third step: Admitting the truth

So please, wish me luck as I have just misplaced my water bottle and now need to go on a crippled hunt to find it.

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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.

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Anecdote, Awkward, Girls, Humor, Thoughts, You're Fine

How to Fend People Off

I had an attractive evening last night, I say with sarcasm. I met up with my new friend, Felicia, who I met on Bumble BFF (yes, that’s a real thing. Bumble isn’t just for dating). Since Felicia and her boyfriend, Larry, are also new to Charleston, they join these MeetUp groups in various locations to meet other new young people. It’s kind of a nice way of making new friends and breaking the ice since you’re both there for the same thing. So, I gathered with a MeetUp group last night and it was all kinds of shenanigans.

I turned into Miss Sassenfrass, probably from the tequila shot I took. THEY MADE ME DO IT. Peer pressure at its finest. So I’m going to give you four solid examples on how to shoo unwanted people away, Jess style.

1.) The Cute Comment

A guy I had just met with the MeetUp group decided to flirt with me by asking if anyone has ever said how cute I am.

I wasn’t even sure how to answer such a stupid question. Now, it’s not stupid because I think highly of myself. It’s stupid because I’m a girl, so when I go out with my friends and a man comes up to me, 9 times out of 10, it’s the first thing he says. I’m 5’1”. That’s usually a straight shot towards the cute comment.

So I stared at him and said, “Um…yes. All the fucking time.”

In which he said, “Oh, so you think you’re hot shit?”

WELL THAT TOOK A TURN.

In which I said, “No, not at all. But that comment isn’t exactly bizarre either.” Which I think was my way of hinting that I was not impressed by any means.

2. ) The Tough Guy

Larry was joking around with Felicia and he pushed her. They were both pushing each other in a playful way, so the whole thing really was innocent. All of a sudden, some guy jumped out and shoved Larry up against the wall yelling, “You think you can touch a female like that!?”

^^^ By the way, why did he have to say “female”?

Felicia and I were a bit surprised and we had to grab the guy off of Larry and explain that they were just joking around. However, the tough (and drunk) guy decided to follow us and heckle Larry down the street, accusing him of beating girls. After about 15 seconds of him following us, I whipped around and yelled, “Can you fuck off!?” (I think that was the tequila talking.)

My lady bark was big enough that the tough guy quickly walked away.

I may be small, but don’t underestimate my barking capabilities.

3.) The Guy Who Rubs the Seat Next to Him Like a Creep

In one of the bars we were in, there was a giant swing that can fit about four or five people. A few of our friends decided to sit on the swing and I pushed it out of friendliness. For some reason, the guy sitting on the end kept motioning me to sit next to him like we were in a Marvin Gaye music video. It was weird and uncomfortable. So, I pretended not to hear him, and continued pushing the swing.

Now, this is just a simple Ignore-Him-Until-He-Gives-Up-Because-He-Will-Eventually-Give-Up.

4.) When Everyone Wants Your Pizza

Felicia, Larry and I (Third Wheel for Lyfe) decided to get pizza. Naturally. I got my pizza (I will not tell you how much pizza I got because I’m still thinking about how disgusting of a human I am), and walked all the way home. However, the drunks on King Street tried to take my pizza. Every ten seconds I’d walk by someone yelling, “Can I have some?” So, I put on my good old New England gremlin face that says, “Don’t talk to me” and walked as fast as I could to get away from the leeches. Once I turned a corner onto a quiet street, I happily dug in.

I hope this post serves you well. If you have any suggestions on how to fend people off, please share them in the comments. I will be taking vigorous notes. As vigorous as the man rubbing the seat next to him.

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Miscellaneous

Moving is such a horrible concept. I have moved a lot since 2009. I moved from dorm to dorm on campus, and then apartment to apartment in various states such as New Hampshire, Massachusetts, California, Connecticut, and now South Carolina. I have to say, moving to South Carolina has been the worst by far.

Moving is never a smooth transition. Something always goes wrong, but it’s usually fixable and not a giant headache in the end. If you lose a coffee mug or two, you just buy a new one. If your sheets rip during the drive, you just buy some new ones. However, my move to South Carolina has been absolutely terrible that I would rather the earth opened up, swallowed me hole, and spit me back up as a demon torturing myself in order to justify the reality of my situation(s).

At first, everything was hunky-dory. I drove down with Mumford in one piece. The movers arrived to the apartment before I did with my mattress, bed frame, and cabinet, which I was happy about. I unloaded everything from my car rather quickly with the help of Colleen. I was ready to somewhat relax and put my bed back together until I realized some of the pieces to my bed were missing. I texted the mover who apologized and checked his truck and did in fact find the rather small and annoying pieces that were preventing me from sleeping on a firm surface other than a floor. He said he was in Florida already and would be back in my area the following afternoon. But then the following afternoon came and went, and after reaching out, he told me first thing in the morning he would arrive. And then “first thing in the morning” came and went, and yet I was still here, sleeping on my mattress on the floor like a drug addict in an abandoned house in the woods. My room is pretty tiny, so not being able to put my bed together kind of stalls me from putting everything else together. Once the bed is together and placed in the right spot, I can then sort through all of my other things.

I finally texted the mover again, and after several hours, he told me he would be by with my pieces in “about nine days”.

200-13

NINE DAYS.

I can’t put anything anywhere. I have more stuff arriving this week. I live in a pile of clothes on my mattress with a useless bed frame exploding my tiny bedroom. I. Am. Not. A. Happy. Lady. Right. Meow.

I informed him immediately like the princess that I was behaving as that that arrangement did not work for me at all. I need a bed. It’s only been three days and I’m already throwing crap around because I have no placement for them yet. I still have no idea what’s happening with the bed so I’m just going to shove issue #1 aside for now.

Now onto issue #2 – I bought a brand new bookcase that arrived today. We go to unload the heavy pieces from the box only to find that they did not include any of the nails to actually put said pieces together, leaving me once again with another piece of useless furniture I cannot assemble at this point in time.

200-14

It’s official. South Carolina does not want me to put my furniture together. It has not welcomed me with open arms. I just want a bedroom that wouldn’t make Jesse Pinkman cry.

So I’m just going to go in my room now and huddle in the corner to look at what’s left of my belongings in hopes nothing else happens.

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Valentine’s Day Cards

No, this is not an anti-Valentine’s Day post. I’m not one of those single people who overly emphasizes that I’m alone on this holiday, or writes “Singletines” rather than “Valentine’s”. I don’t mind Valentine’s Day. Although, if you do write mushy messages to each other on social media, please know that neither I nor the rest of the world cares, and we wish you would stop. I don’t want to see it on any normal day, and to me, Valentine’s Day is just like every other day.

Now that we got that out of the way, I’d like to discuss Valentine’s Day cards. I don’t like those overly sentimental greeting cards. You know, the ones with the really fancy cursive font with a floral painting and some kind of cheesy poem inside. I don’t care for those. I like the sarcastic ones. I just got my Nana a birthday card that says “You’re Awful” on the front, but then peel the entire card open and it says, “You are awesome and wonderful.” I like that crap.

I’m not trying to brag or anything, but my family should start a greeting card business. Every time there’s a family party for someone’s birthday, my uncle goes to the store and grabs a handful of cards. I don’t even think he looks at them. He just picks out about 15 cards at random and then modifies them when he gets home.

So, I’ve decided to modify some Valentine’s Day cards I found online. I think they are a bit more original.

A big shout out to my mother, my aunt, and my two sisters for helping me out with these. I couldn’t have done it without that family wit. We should all be in therapy.

1.)

vd1

vd2

2.)

vd3

vd4

3.)

vd5

vd6

4.)

vd7

vd8

5.)

vd9

vd10

6.)

vd11

vd12

7.)

vd13

vd14

8.)

vd15

vd16

9.)

vd17

vd18

But in all seriousness, I wish you all a happy Valentine’s Day. To me, you are all my valentines. Plus, my cat. I can’t forget about my cat.

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A Letter to My Pants

Hey ladies,

I’m sure for the last year, my closet has felt like Buckingham Palace compared to my last one. You have so much space to just hang around while Mumford tortures you from time to time with his claws when he’s feeling feisty. You’re also completely separated from those asshole t-shirts and blouses in the next closet over. You no longer have to mingle with them, thank goodness.

I’m sure the feeling is mutual when I say that we are frenemies. Some of you are just so wonderful, shaping my body ever so nicely while the rest of you, I’m certain, are trying to kill me.

I’ll start off with you lovely sweatpants. There are just so many of you: the Catalina Island Sweatpants, the Old-Navy-Random-Purchase Sweatpants, the Forever-21-And-It-Only-Cost-2-Dollars Leggings, the Yoga-Pants-I-Bought-When-I-Was-A-Size-Zero-And-No-Longer-Fit-In. You are all my buds. We’ve had so many cuddle sessions together, and I wouldn’t trade them in for the world. I’m sorry to many of you for the accidental coffee spill from time to time when I was startled or got excited about something. We’ve watched the entire series of Mad Men together, and you’re definitely the type I would like to die in a plane crash with, if the situation were to occur. Sorry, jeans. At least I would die comfortable. You’re the first pants I reach to when I get home from work.

ddsd

You’re the perfect attire to eat in. You allow me to be a bottomless pit and I love you for it. Cashews? Screw cashews. Give me french fries.

Back to the jeans. You guys are terrible friends. The only thing I like about you is the fact that you make my legs seem long and lean, but it’s a complete lie. In reality, my legs are short and look like stubby fingers. Let’s just push that pro to the side and go over the cons:

  • The daily struggle every morning pulling you over my thighs. It’s like wrestling a bear.
  • Praying they are going to zip up without that awkward opening as if I went to the bathroom and forgot to zip my pants back up.
  • That uncomfortable and painful scar you leave across my stomach every day as if I fell asleep on a butcher knife for 6 hours.

^^^ This is why I prefer sweatpants.

But I have news for some of you. Since I have officially shed 12 pounds from my body, I’m gonna have to go Hunger Games on your asses and remove you from the premises. No, Olive Jeans. You can’t volunteer as tribute. You still fit perfectly fine.

Some of you, on the other hand, now fit me so awkwardly I feel like one of those tweens who’s old enough to shop in the juniors section but risk wearing khaki’s that bubble up at the thighs, but will only fit in the Little Miss section and risk wearing jeans with flower patches on the knees like they’re in third grade. I can’t be having that at the age of 25. Sahry.

I’m not going to name names, but some of you will have to say your goodbyes because you’re being stored in a box somewhere for later use. I’m realistic of the fact that I’m sure I’m going to need you again at some point.

We are also moving to a much warmer place, full of sunshine and horrible humidity. Even the ones who are dear enough to stick around, your services will not be needed nearly as much. I’m going to have to start buying more shorts and dresses. I know, I know. Shorts scare you. They are basically you, but with your limbs cut off. Do you want to be covered in my sweat?

I didn’t think so.

This isn’t to say I don’t love all of you. I know what I said before, jeans. But I didn’t mean it. You are there for me when the seasons change and I feel my inner girl freak out at the sight of a dead leaf. I throw you on when the temperature drops to 60. You cover my legs on the days I don’t feel like shaving. You keep me warm and cozy. You give me more confidence than any other piece of clothing.

I’ll be sure to give you the love and respect on the days you are needed. We will do something fun together. Like jump in a pile of leaves or bond with some boots if it gets really cold. I know you’ll miss the boots too.

So, this isn’t goodbye now, or forever. This is a “I’ll catch you on the flip side.” Until then, you do you. Never lose heart.

Yours truly,

Momsicle

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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.

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firstdate

Cartoons, Food, Girls, Humor

First Date

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Art, Cartoons, Festivities, Humor, Hyperbole, You're Fine

Christmas

I fail every major holiday. I think about my Halloween costumes two months ahead of schedule and then all of a sudden, it’s the day of Halloween and I completely forgot about it. Every year, I intend to buy presents for all of my friends and family and then a week before Christmas, I end up baking Slutty Brownies because I run out of time. Well well well, not this year folks! I started preparing for Christmas in September…

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Once I get an idea, I run with it to the point where it’s all that consumes my thoughts. I rush to the store, credit card in hand, and begin my journey into the Christmas spirit. Nothing is going to get in my way.

First, I spend way too much money on decorations.

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In my mind, I think I’m setting up Christmas for the next ten years of my life when in reality, I’m going to be so cluttered with Christmas crap after the holidays that I will toss them in my dumpster in a fit of rage.

I also don’t have a good sense of how big is too big when it comes to presents.

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Or how small is too small.

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Once I start prepping, I can’t be stopped. I exhaust myself to the point of starvation and dehydration, wrapping and decorating, and ignoring my cat Mumford way more than usual, probably to his relief.

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Once I’m done with my Christmas prepping, it’s barely Thanksgiving and then Christmas rolls around and I’m too tired to care.

With that being said, I hope the rest of you have not gone completely neurotic like I have. May you all have an anti-psychotic holidays!

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Humor, Out of the Ordinary, Sarcasm

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

versailles-mirrors

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.

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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.

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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

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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…”

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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.

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Humor, Hyperbole, Travel, You're Fine

5 Reasons Why I Love the Airport

I LOVE GOING TO AIRPORTS.

Airports are places where cranky, slightly smelly people transfer from one spot to the next, and post their location on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram captioning it “LAX —> BOS” or something even more obnoxious. I’ve been guilty of doing this but I own up to my mistakes…most of the time.

Here is my list of reasons why airports are the absolute best because, you know, “NYC —> DC!!!”

1.) When you need to jump out of the vehicle because you’re not allowed to stop.

I do not have the luxury of someone dropping me off at departures, so I can’t experience that thrilling moment when your driver tries to pull over, let you out and bid you safe journey’s only to have the security guard yell that you “can’t park there” so you’re leaping out at a rolling stop, hoping for the best. What a drag.

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2.) The friendly TSA staff

Nothing better than racing to security, ripping off your shoes and removing every technological device you own and stick them in separate bins without holding up the line. The best kinds of people are the ones who forgot to remove their 17 pieces of jewelry they’re wearing and a bagful of change in their pocket. It’s such a grand feeling when security needs to triple check your bag and pull you aside because your 800 page book you’re currently trying to get through too closely resembles a you-know-what, and you walk away with a sense of relief that you didn’t pack those tweezers.

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3.) Magically growing a second pair of arms

I will be carrying my fifty pound travel bag because I’m incapable of prioritizing my weekend packing, my purse, my wallet/ID, my phone, and being able to walk through the line at the exact same time. The upside to technology nowadays is that I can now upload my plane ticket on my phone, so it’s one less thing I need to pull out of my bag and not break my arm in the process.

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4.) Exercise

Luckily, with all of that carrying and running to your gate, and practically stripping naked at security, you’re most likely breaking a sweat equivalent to your normal day at the gym.

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5.) Testing your reflexes

After waiting for your boarding number, cramming yourself onto the plane, and trying with all of your might to get your bag in the overhead compartment because your 5’1 frame won’t allow it, you have finally sit down. If you’re like me, you quickly grab your headphones, shutting out any possible chit chat with fellow passengers. Maybe I’m just bitter, but no, I don’t feel like telling you why I’m going to this location of choice, or where I grew up, or what my favorite Mexican dish is.

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Please share some of your favorite moments in the airport.

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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.

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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:
“Heybabeheybabeheybabeheybabe…”
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.

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