What Have We Learned, Campers?

Hello and Happy Holidays everyone. Full disclosure, this post is a total spin-off of my good friend MkWonderland's http://mkinwonderland.com/2011/12/2011-in-review/ (if you don't read her blog yet, you're missing out. It's the "Friends" to your 90's must-see TV lineup.) As with all good spin-offs, it probably won't hold a candle to the original (I'm looking at you, The City) but here's hoping we all leave this post feeling a little better about ourselves.

Things I Have Learned in 2011:

- That thing you said you'd never do, ever in a million years? You'll do it. You'll do it possibly more than once. Saying "never" is pretty much like taunting the universe; Don't do it.

- The amount of time, thought, and energy you put into planning your as-yet nonexistant wedding is inversely related to the amount of general productivity in your life. Keep it on Pinterest, ladies. A watched pot of marriage proposal never boils, and occasionally it gets taken off the stove altogether. [Also, if I had to attend a wedding that included more than one or two of the 'cutesy ideas' sh!t on there, I'd probably either die laughing or drink myself to death under the table.]

I mean, yeah lots of guys think this is critically important to have at a wedding. Sike.



- ...and when said pot gets removed from said stove, it opens the cooking range to EVEN BETTER things. Holding on to a flawed relationship is preposterous. Your next love is right on the other side of the thing holding you back, whether that love is a career path, a move across the country, or a special person you never knew existed.

- Going with the whole stove metaphor thing, cooking is way more fun and satisfying than getting takeout, or siphoning the occasional meal off of your conveniently-located family members. Ask yourself, "Is this plastic carton of overpriced Thai soup worth $12 and having to find parallel parking on Cary street?" or "Is this baked chicken dinner worth having to listen to an hour-long discussion about my failed attempts at the CPA exam?" Go the the store, buy some chicken and whole-wheat pasta and make dinner while watching Bravo. You'll thank yourself later.

- Cooking for yourself: a bummer. Cooking with someone else for the two of you: WAY more fun. What sad soul wants to have to cut a recipe in half rather than double it? If you must cook for yourself, make the normal recipe and save half of it for lunch the next day and/or eat half of it in the car driving to work in the morning. (Chicken is SO not exclusively a dinner food. Ask Chik-fil-A.)

- Enjoying social media does not make you stupid. Being a slave to it makes you so.

- You do not have to start and end your day looking like Pinterest. Sure that emerald-green top might look smashing with a grey Marc Jacobs bag, but sometimes you just have to throw your stuff in a Northface backpack and be done with it. (Plus, it also holds a water bottle.)

- Set aside 45 minutes a day of "Me" time. Take it selfishly. Make no exceptions. Put your phone away. Personally I enjoy running, but maybe you enjoy singing in your car. Do what you need to do. You can be a slave to the world for the other 23 hours and 15 minutes in the day.

- Jealousy is the inherent disease of the female. That which motivates us also destroys us. Keep it in check.

- Your parents don't know everything. Your friends don't know everything. Google, eHow and Wikipedia don't know everything. They all know SOME things, so to get the best results you have to consult more than one source and judiciously decide your next move.

- Decide who is worth your time, and give them your time. Period.

- If you ever tell yourself, "I'll forgive him because it only happened once", you'd better be damn sure it only happens once.

- Someone tell you you have an "edge"? Good. It means you stand up for yourself. Don't allow your edge to get dull.

- Before you post, respond, comment, or tweet, ask yourself, "Is this kind?" "Is this necessary?" "Is this appropriate?" Better to leave things unsaid (even for the sake of humor or creativity) than to say it and hurt someone else or yoursef. Our generation really needs to get a handle on this one...

- The cost of a blonde highlight touch-up at a good salon: $175, plus tip.
   The cost of a bottle of Joico Blonde toner: $23 at Ulta. Use it every other day and you'll only need to highlight 3 times a year. Genius.

- Religion is a deal-breaker in relationships. We can pretend all we want that in today's world it doesn't matter, but it does. It might seem OK at first, but after the lively debates are over, someone is just going to feel cheapened, hurt, or resentful. Religion is a deal-breaker in relationships.

- Get your oil changed. Put air in your tires. Vacuum your car. See, don't you feel more organized already?

- Naps don't help everyone. On the rare occasion that I take one, I wake up from naps feeling groggy, fuzzy, and irritated. And with pillow lines on my face.

- The most irritating woman on earth is the Condescending Woman. Don't be her.

- If you'd done that thing you didn't want to do when you first started thinking about it, you'd be done by now.

- "Real Adults" like to tell us to 'slow things down' or 'take things one step at a time' like they're afraid that we're going to experience all the good things in life too early, and live the rest of life in dreary misery, devoid of surprises. The reality is, the good things will keep coming. Jump in to things with both feet and don't look back. There will be more to come. There is no such thing as having too much happiness.

- If you can find your boyfriend/girlfriend/spouse devilishly handsome and sweet even in the midst of a stomach virus, you may have yourself a keeper.

- Waching The Real World is just as satisfying now as it was when I was younger. There's something relaxing about watching 7 strangers dop around a really, really cool house and do absolutely nothing.

- Banks assume (sometimes correctly) that our generation is basically financially illiterate. Don't let them charge you stupid fees. Call them out on it, or change banks.

- Call your dad. There will one day be a time when I can't do this, and thinking about that already makes me terribly sad. The older I've gotten and the more relationships I've been in, I've come to realize the critical importance of a dad. For girls, they were our first example of how a man should treat a woman (good or bad.) For guys, it was their first impression of masculinity. Call him and say hi. He probably misses you.

- The SNL parody "Kim's Fairytale Divorce" will never not be funny. http://www.aoltv.com/2011/11/07/kim-kardashian-divorce-saturday-night-live-video/
"What do I have to do for attention?! Kill somebody..."

- It's hard to relate to someone else's happiness when you're at a hard place in your life. However, when someone else is in a hard place and needs support, it's infinitely easier to tap into those emotions and recall what YOU needed when you were in their shoes. Joyful things bring us together, but so do sucky things. At any rate, I'm ever so thankful and blessed to have the friends and relationship that I have. Big group hug to all.


So... how was 2011 for you?

She's Just Not That Into Car Seat Covers, Either: How to shop for the woman in your life, part II

Gentlemen, the marketing campaigns of the retail industry are ruining you. The Holiday commercials are not your friend, nor are they providing you with suggestions. Now that we've covered the fact that Kay Jewelers is not the Mecca of the emotional and heartfelt gift that the commercials would have you believe, I should mention some other potential pitfalls that could victimize even the savviest male shopper.


The Trap:
- Precious Moments figurines. Why don't we just call these what they really are; dust-collectors and breakage landmines for homes with cats. Maybe it's the big, creepy kewpie-doll eyes. Maybe it's the fact that even the "grown-up" figurines look like they're about 5 years old. Maybe it's the fact they they all have some cheesy religious poem inside them. I don't know what it is, but I can tell you with 100% certainty that the woman in your life is going to feel approximately 126% less turned-on once she removes the packing peanuts and pulls one of these babies out of a box that looked suspiciously like it could contain jewelry.

Just Married...what is this, the YFZ Ranch?! They look 8 years old!



- "Presents we  BOTH like!" Jerry Seinfeld once said, "there's no such thing as 'fun for the whole family.' Same rule applies to gifts. With the rare exception of novelties that I can't mention here (this is a G-rated blog), most gifts with a 2-party benefit are a no-go. This includes XBox games, dart boards, doberman pincers, unisex pajama jeans (the unsexiest phrase in the English language), tickets to sporting events (unless you're both die-hards) and lottery tickets. Now I know the Christmas lottery ticket commercials are alluring, but stay the course and trust me. The 'scratching film' gets under our finger nails, and MAN, that stuff is hard to get out...

- Convenience Presents Offering to pay that bill, buy that tank of gas, run that errand... these are all VERY sweet gestures, and yes you should do them occasionally. But 'Accrued Gifts' are something I should only ever hear about when I'm doing an audit. Ask yourself... is it more fun to open a gift on Christmas morning, or be reminded about that time that she paid off your parking ticket?

[NOTE: this is different from "advanced gifts"... i.e. ones that you've gotten her input on, then had her forget about until Christmas morning. Those are encouraged!]

Next we'll cover gifts that she'll actually like. Maybe even love. I've earned your trust at this point, right? I wouldn't steer you wrong!

She's Just Not That Into Ceramic Figurines (How to shop for the woman in your life) Part One

Well, Nordstrom may be fastidiously holding out on their Christmas decorating until after the next legal holiday, but for everyone else, the season started once CVS started putting out the red and green M&M's (the day before Halloween.)

It's time to get serious about what you will be getting the woman/women in your life this Christmas. I will be giving advice in the form of several blog installments, so keep up with me here.

Now before I begin, I just have to get something off my chest...I ABHOR those insipid Kay Jewelers commercials. Am I right?! The ones that feature a [soldier/new dad/ethnically ambiguous boyfriend/deaf person] surprising his [wife/mother/shacker/ethnically ambiguous blind person] with a black box that contains a hideous piece of lacquered crap designed by Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman and Jeweler Extraordinaire. No thank you, I'd rather have a Yankee Candle.

What the audience won't know is that she's actually making the ASL symbol for "worst commercial ever." 

Moving right along, allow me to present you with some helpful tips on choosing a gift that won't make you look like a doofus on Christmas morning when she surprises you with a handmade reclaimed barnwood sled that she made off of Pinterest.


LESSON ONE: She doesn't want something practical.
Remember that time you were walking through Lowes and she mentioned (probably out of boredom) that she liked those "cool shower rings"? Yeah, she doesn't want them to show up on Christmas morning. She was dropping a hint, alright...a hint that she wanted to leave the hardware store because she was at the boredom stage where un-cute things look exciting. We've all been there.


Next up, I'll tell you why you should never enter a Precious Moments store. Stay tuned...

Reveling in the Awesome: Being Young and Alive

This past weekend was abnormally fantastic. Do you ever have one of those perfect days when your hair looks great, every light is green, your car seems to be using not as much gas as usual, and you can immediately put your hands on the EXACT outfit you want to wear without blowing out your closet? String together 3 days like that, and you'd have my weekend.


Story time: On Friday, I turned 26. It's a nice year when you type it out. Nice numbers. BONUS, I'm still considered "mid-twenties." Mid-twenties means that I can continue to shop at H&M, and buy the girl's size Nike running shorts (hey, they're cheaper.) It means I can go out in public with chipped finger nail polish without people thinking I'm mentally ill. I can eat a meal consisting of Spaghetti-ohs without judgment, if I want to. My body piercings are considered legitimate and not desperate. Nobody asks me when I want to get married or have kids. And perhaps the most fun thing of all...I can play the "Oh sorry, that must have been before my time" card when "real adults" talk about 80's TV shows.

The weekend began with a deluge of texts, phone calls, and Facebook messages. Seriously, my phone buzzed every 10 seconds. Being an accountant, I started wondering if anyone ever considered using a "Birthday Wall Post per Hour" formula to calculate one's "Friend Density". Actually though, the fact that I just wondered that out loud makes me a loser. Furthermore, I finished up one of my high-profile and high-maintenance audits at work, received flowers at my desk from the most incredible and handsome guy (think: Benjamin Bratt + Bradley Cooper with a light dusting of Daniel Craig), and went out Friday night with my friends AND my parents. I mean, how cool is it that I have parents that still love to go out? I think I'm going to jump on their life schedule so that by the time I'm their age I can still go out with my kids.

Saturday morning my body rewarded my steadfast commitment to having only 4 drinks by granting me just a teensy hangover. We headed down to the Wake Forest game (BenBradleyDaniel included) and met up with my sister and brother. The game was GREAT fun, and as per every football game I didn't particularly care who won or lost. I barely picked up my phone to tweet, text or 'book because I was having such a fabulous time that I wanted to contain it all within myself for a little while. Sunday began with a delicious breakfast and a nice, leisurely drive back to Richmond where on the way we stopped at a new outlet center. BBD enjoys shopping as much as I do, and doesn't even mind my color-commentary on the state of fashion. ("Ew, what IS that? Who would wear that? It looks like something worn by a gay Honduran baby during a flood...but just for grins, how much is it?") I gave up on finding a guy who embraces my quirks a long time ago; at this point I'm just going for "tolerance." BBD, however, seems to both tolerate and enjoy. Strange. Maybe he has an undiagnosed hypersarcasm disorder. Either way, I'm buying whatever he's selling.

I've had a lot of cool, fun things strung together in a short amount of time. This got me thinking about OTHER awesome things that improve my quality of life. Here are a few others I've thought of:

- Chicken fingers. Any time is a good time. But don't bother asking to share with me because I'll order honey-mustard AND barbecue sauce, double-dip in both of them so that one ends up looking like lava and the other one like gravy. The only person in America that this is appetizing for is me.
- Along those lines, Chik-Fil-A. Hearing someone say "My pleasure" will never get old for me.
- Those plastic thingies at Starbucks that you put in the top of drinks to keep them from spilling. Clearly the inventor of this ALSO had a Burberry scarf that they didn't want to ruin with a soy latte.
- That glossy sheen on the top of fall leaves.
- When you climb into your car at the end of the day and it happens to be the PERFECT temperature.
- Boots. Frye Boots. Particularly, the ones that BBD got me for by birthday.
- When you drive by a house or business and see Christmas lights and think, "this person likes Christmas as much as I do... we would totally get along!"

What improves YOUR quality of life? What did you do this weekend that reminded you of how much you love being young and alive? Let's hear 'em!

Support Groups we Really Need

Okay, the past two months have been really jarring. Not just for me, but for some of my "inner circle" as well. I'm talking break-ups, move-outs, job loss, family member loss, pet loss, etc. My Facebook new feed has looked like a 2-month long Oprah recap. I'm almost afraid to 'book it up every morning just out of fear that some new crisis will have occurred in the small window of time since I've check it last.

                                       We get by with a little help from our fellow non-sober blond friends.

Everyone knows that support groups exist for people going through major life traumas; addiction, disease, psychological problems, etc. These are normal, necessary, and help people out by giving them a sounding board for to express their feelings in a place where they can feel validated and unjudged.

You know what I think would be fantastic? If we could all just collectively form a cluster of "20's Support Groups." Some people would argue that that's exactly what a bar is, but let me elaborate...

I've already blogged about how I felt when M and I broke up; I felt like the weight of my grief was literally crushing me. I woke up every morning with a leaden anvil of pain and anxiety sitting on my chest. I had to dictate, second-by-second, what I needed to do in order to get through the day; "Now you need to put clothes on. Now you need to drive to work. Now you need to eat dinner", etc. My friends were, in a word, fantastic. I received texts, phone calls, cards, hugs, and emails from people who hadn't talked to me in ages yet wanted to show that they cared about me. I was an unknowing member of a huge, disjointed support group.

To my friends experiencing similar sadness right now, wish I could have all of us in a large multipurpose room with plastic stacking chairs and free Maxwell House coffee, comparing stories. Giving advice. Laughing. Reminding each other that the days will keep coming and coming and all we have to do is stay the course and get through each one. It's Candyland. Our twenties are fun and colorful; they begin like a game. Sometimes we get a bad roll and have to start over at the beginning, even when we've been ahead the whole time. Next time though, you might roll doubles and get to take the express Lollipop bridge to the Gumdrop Forest (don't you sit there and pretend like you don't know this game, pshh...)

Sometimes you feel like you've been losing whole time and just want to quit. That's what the support group is for! Hand the dice to a friend and let them roll for you to get you through the next turn.

Just because what you're experiencing isn't considered a "life crisis" as described by 'DSM4' doesn't mean that you wouldn't benefit from a support group.

Here are some that I propose:
- Breakup 101: What to Expect in the First Weeks After a Breakup of 2-Year + Relationship (M,W,F 6:00-7:00)
- Breakup 201: Intermediate Breakups: Handling Awkward Conversations, Allowing Yourself to Say his Name, and Getting all of your Stuff Back (M,W,F, 7:00-8:30)
- Breakup 400: Advanced Breakups: Starting New Relationships, Calling the New Person by the Correct Name, Avoiding the Ex's Friends in Public, Etc. {For Additional Credit: Emotional Baggage Seminar] T, TH, 6:00-7:00
- "Is Grad School for Me?" Open Forum/ Roundtable Discussion (Sundays, 5-7)
- "Am I the Only One who was Never Taught about Car Maintenance?" Hands-On Class with Demonstrations (T, TH, 5-6)
- City Apartment Living 201: Door Locking, 'No-Parking' Sign Obedience, Advanced Rapist-Spotting (Mondays, 8-9)
- "Study Abroad: Shacking in Downtown Shockoe Bottom" Semester length varies
- Cooking 301: Cooking for Singles; Lean Pocket Emphasis (Monday-Sunday, Nightly)



What are some support groups YOU'D be interested in?

Edward Cullen is Not Real and He Will Never Love You

...seems like a fairly obvious statement, right? I mean, we're grown men and women, and we can agree on the fact that these fictional male characters (Edward, Jacob, Harry, Peeta, Gale, and every reformed scruffy dude from every Nicholas Sparks novel) are not even loosely based on anything found in the world today.

Gentlemen, show of hands...who here is sick of hearing us pine for dudes that don't exist?

Director: "That was great, but try it again. Only this time, brood MORE. No no, even MORE. And more lip-biting. Yeah."

It's like, not only do guys have to worry about warm-blooded human celebrities like David Beckham, Ryan Gosling, and Jude Law (if he's still alive), now they have to contend with competitors who are impossible to beat because they are not real. Oh, the perils of being a 21st century middle-class male! But this is not a new cultural phenomena; remember back, if you will, to your 11th grade English class. Mr. Darcy? Ring any bells? How about Rhett Butler? These guys are the PIMPS of the canonized literary world. They've been getting ladies' pantaloons in a twist for centuries now. What we've found in Edward and Peeta are just more updated versions of Rhett and Mr. Darcy, only with more Hot Topic clothing, a fetish for human blood, and a post-apocalyptic rendering of America where children are forced to fight each other to the death on a reality TV show. So, same thing really.


As a woman, I can't decide whether it is good or bad that we hold the menfolk to such a high standard. For the moment, I'm leaning toward "good", because I truly do think that these guys are stating a pretty powerful message: Girls want to be treated well, loved for their intelligence, and cared for unconditionally. If you're a bit baffled about the Edward Cullen phenomenon still, let me help you out: basically he's a vampire who loves this dramatic, plain girl who bites her lower lip a lot...pretty much because of her chemistry. Is it biological chemistry? Is it EMOTIONAL chemistry? Who can tell? It doesn't matter. He loves her, he would die for her, and he (for the first year of their relationship) does NOT want to have sex with her. Ideal, right? (See also: I'm a huge prude.)

I wish I could do a "JayWalking"-type on the street outside my apartment and just randomly ask guys to tell me their "ideal woman", in terms of a character from literature or the entertainment industry. Multiple recent shootings and pesky dead-body searches prohibit me from doing this, but I have a feeling that Lisbeth Salander, Calpurnia, and Hermione probably wouldn't make the list. I suppose the point that I'm trying to make is that WOMEN are often falling in love with charismatic, respectable dudes from literature and men are drawn to the same thing they've always been drawn to. So are we "dumbing down" by wanting a fictional guy, or wising up by realizing what a "good man" could be?

I can't really decide. I suppose I'm in the camp of "Until it affects your day-to-day life, it's not really a problem." Unless you are finding yourself eating Lean Pockets in bed every night and resigning yourself to being a full-time, freelance reality TV critic because you hold men to an impossible standard, I think it's alright to let these fictional guys be the inspiration for the type of guy you want to date.

These are dark days, my friends. The 7 billionth baby was born somewhere today, probably to Angelina Jolie. The "Occupy: _____" movement has gotten so desperate and lame that they've posted up in 3rd tier cities like Richmond (watch out, Fergusson Plumbing headquarters...they're coming for you.) Kim Kardashian's name is officially longer than her marriage lasted. The dating pool is deep, wide, and dangerous. Girls and guys, we've got to remember to keep it classy but keep it real (which is also the slogan of the poster that hangs over my bed.)



Not really.

The Best Part of the Day

I've always been a big fan of the little things, or as a trite piece of Cracker Barrel Store wall art might say, "Enjoying Life's Small Pleasures."

Chances are good that you fall into one of the following categories if you're reading this blog:
1. You're a twenty-to-thirtysomething young professional in an entry/mid-level job that you tolerate but don't love.
2. You're in grad school, hoping to eventually get a job
3. You're between jobs for whatever reason, and can't decide which way to go next.

Whichever category you fall in to, I bet we all have something in common; there are little things that we look forward to each day that make the not-so-good parts bearable. I don't necessarily think that the key to enjoying life is seeing the good in everything. I think the real richness of every day comes out when we string together all the little things--the good stuff--and recognize that not every minute of life is going to be awesome.

You know what I look forward to? Coffee every morning.

Coffee never changes. Coffee never disappoints. When people ask me if I'm addicted to coffee, I have a hard time answering because in addition to having a chemical dependency (which I do), I am also emotionally dependent on the minutes associated with "coffee time." Coffee Time has meant something different at every stage of my life, but at every stage, it has been my favorite moment of the day. In college it was the moments I spent walking to my early-morning classes (which I always had, thanks to Accounting) with my mug in hand, enjoying my beautiful campus at a time when everyone else was still asleep or maybe passed out in a nearby church parking lot behind West End. I loved Coffee during my post-grad days when I lived at home. My mom and dad ALWAYS have coffee together and would make a special point to grab my favorite creamer when I came home so I could enjoy coffee in the mornings with them. I enjoyed it when I lived with Matt, and the two of us would just sit and talk before having to get up and get ready for work. Now that I'm back at home for another week or two until I move downtown, this morning routine has become even more important. I love waking up 45 minutes before I have to get ready and enjoying some leisurely coffee while chatting with my parents. In a few weeks when I'm all moved in I'll have to make a NEW routine... that's a little jarring, actually!

So what's YOUR favorite moment of the day? Do you read before bed? Do you call a friend or family member? What parts of the day do you most look forward to?

No right or wrong answers, here. No copying your neighbors. Eyes on your own work.

Happy Thursday!

The Best is Yet to Come (And yes, that's what she said.)

Hello friends. Don't blame the lack of update on your new underwhelming iPhone 5; your RSS feed is fine. I haven't posted in about 2 weeks. Sorry about it. LOTS of great things going on right now, though. For starters, it's Fall, my favorite season ever. Last weekend while the city of Richmond was busy arranging themselves in front of a television somewhere to enjoy football, the chilly weather arrived and brought with it the prospect of wearing my Fall wardrobe, which is basically my summer wardrobe plus a cardigan and tights. Moving on...

Oh, I broke up with my boyfriend of 3 years. So. That happened.

Now if you're all hyped up to read some salacious details about everything that went wrong with our relationship, you might as well stop reading this now and go back to your Facebook-stalking, child-on-toilet-posting, "I'm-investigating-but-I-can't-tell-if-it-was-mutual-based-on-their-wall-posts"-ing ways. If you're REALLY in my inner circle, you know what you need to know. If you're in my inner circle and do NOT know, give me a call or shoot me an email. I'll fill you in. Another option is to ask my sister- she would set you straight. But her version is rated PG-13 for Some Mild Language and Adult Themes. You've been warned.

Over the past few weeks there have been times that have absolutely sucked. There were moments where I felt like my grief over the loss of my relationship with my special person was going to strangle me. I had mornings where I just laid there in bed thinking, "I can't believe I'm here." Anyone who has been there can relate. There are 15-minute jags where you feel like you will absolutely never be happy again. It reminds me of that scene in City of Angels where award-winning Father of the Year actor Nicholas Cage is telling a fellow angel that 'human pain' can't be worth being human. Through my own human experience (and obviously Nicholas Cage's stellar performance), I get that now.

But here's the thing:

For every second that I felt sad, there have been hundreds of seconds where I have had a reason to smile and look forward; A card in the mail from a kind sorority sister who already has a wayyy more stressful life than me, A text from a friend I haven't seen since preschool who reminds me to smile, My best bud from Elon offering humor and possibly a hit man service (not needed, but the thought was much appreciated), My best friend since 3rd grade sharing a bottle of champagne with me as we "toast to life", The 3 boys who moved everything out of Matt's house for me while I was at work--These guys have come from every direction to make me feel better, and I could write all day and not even scratch the surface on how thankful I am to have each of them. They are my Ross, Rachel, Chandler and Monica. They are my Rory and Lorelei. They are my...Whitney and that show about the girl who moves in with 3 dudes.


Now concerning more practical matters, I am getting ready to move downtown to the Shockoe Bottom area, where I've wanted to live for a long time. I'm living with one of my friends, and we are going to decorate the heck out of our new digs. We'll have a rooftop pool. Visitors welcome. Attractive MCV Doctors and Don Draper look-alikes are encouraged to apply.

So that's what I've been up to lately. OH! I've also become a lot more social; I blame the new female-empowering Fall TV Lineup which includes a show about a shrill brunette living with her boyfriend, one about 2 parents apparently locked in battle with their newborn baby, and another one where all you need to know is that the title contains the word "Playboy". At any rate, I went out downtown last weekend with some friends and ended up meeting NEW friends, which is always fun. I also accidentally turned into Miss Shockoe Bottom Vodka Princess 2011 but alas, hangovers don't last forever and next time I'll remember to drink some water between my 11th and 12th cocktail. Or, I'll just have 2 because that's really all I need.


Here is my final thought for you, my friends: If you are questioning, thinking, or wondering if you could do better for yourself...MAKE THE CHANGE. You won't regret it. You may even save yourself from making the biggest mistake of your life. Your true friends will be there to catch you when you make the jump!

The Status of your Status: Social Media and Why it Makes You Neurotic

As a generation, we couldn't more more confused.

I'm speaking to YOU, my twentysomething comrades (and we can include Matty in there for one more solitary year, as the old man turned 29 last weekend); we have great educations, decent jobs that subsidize most of le bills, some have produced at least moderately adorable children, and if you're like Taylor Swift, some of us even have drawers of our things at 'his' place. We might not have the plough-pushing physical and mental fortitude of our grandparents, but we've been hearing that baloney for years and we're over it-- we're doing pretty o.k. for ourselves, all things considered.

But despite everything that we have going for us, lots of us are still walking around constantly thinking "Am I doing this right?"; a worry that our grandparents didn't typically contend with while pushing their ploughs. We live in a constant state of confusion over our life choices and no amount of friendly reassurance, Facebook album investigation, or twitter tagging will ever assure us that we don't look ridiculous to everyone who is not...well, us. We will not rest in our quest for validation!


So other than about 70 years, what separates our young-adulthood experiences from that of our grandparents? Why this need for approval? The answer to this question coming right up, after a word from this sponsor.....

What do you do when you tweet, blog, or write a status? You fill others in on WHAT you are doing, WHY, and HOW you feel about it. You make a short "life-commercial", much in the same way that our friends at Xenadrine-- no doubt a super-safe and reputable weight loss product-- advertise on TV. In terms of Xenadrine, people will show they "approve" of this commercial by purchasing their dubious bottle of poison at their local Foot Locker or Abercrombie and Fitch. When we advertise ourselves in social media, we're saying "Follow what I'm doing! Check me out! Approve of my life choices... or don't, but either way, remember me!" I think this all started out innocently enough (college kids wanting to know what other college kids thought about the general college experience in...well, college), but it has grown into the conference center for Narcissism, U.S.A. A lot of people think this is generally harmless, and to some extent I agree. But I think that the true bugbear of this trend is that we now REQUIRE  the approval of others in order to feel validated, safe, non-awkward, and socially adept.

Take for example, the following anecdote...

The other day I was down at the beach in North Carolina with my family; Chilling out, relaxing, doing super-fun stuff that would make people jealous of my life. I felt an immediate need to share this feeling of mellow satisfaction with anyone and everyone who might look. So I did exactly what you would do: I posted a status. In my opinion, it was perfect-- everything a status should be: witty, informative, nostalgic, and included a heart-shape thingy AND smiley-face. It was Michaelangelo's Status of the David. I posted it, went to the beach all day, came back up and eagerly checked to see how many of my friends gave their approval. 

Not one.

Not a like, a poke, a thumbs-up, or a "LOL." Nothing. E-Crickets.

I felt SO defeated! I checked for misspellings...none noted. I checked to make sure my internet was working. It was. Nobody commented because NOBODY CARED. I started to ask myself the kinds of existential questions that--in the olden days--only came up after a long day on the plough and several swigs of moonshine; Why am I not funny? Why does nobody care what I do? Am I a loser? Should I delete my Facebook? It had a friggin' SMILEY and HEARTS!

Rest assured, I recovered within hours and was posting normally again by dinner. But it made me wonder...why all this self-doubt? I don't think I'm alone in my experience. When we are so used to "making life commercials" and having people respond positively (or negatively, in my case, because I tend to piss off people on Facebook on the reg.) it becomes hard when we make moves without someone there to say "you're doing great!"

Maybe our dip in self-confidence is actually caused by our increase in self-broadcasting. We SHOULD feel better about ourselves when we make spiffy self-advertisements, but we don't because any lack of approval is earth-shattering. So we're left wondering things that our grandparents didn't lose sleep over:

Should I be traveling more?

Does this haircut make me look as cute as she is?

How is he in Grad School already?

Should *I* start thinking about having a baby?

I'm alone and it's Saturday night and I have no pictures to post...am I a social pariah?

I'm not engaged yet and we've been together for 3 years. Is something wrong with me?

I think that once we start to either a) calm down with social media or b) find a happy place where we can broadcast without doubting ourselves, we can become the leaders that everyone at the 5th Grade Junior Achievement Assembly told us we could be.

Let's all just relax, enjoy the ride, and use Facebook strictly for fun and not a meter-stick by which to measure your life.

Also, Jersey Shore Ronnie uses Xenadrine so clearly you should too.

Forbidden Post #1: Religion

Okay everybody...hold on to your respective Rosary and Yarmulkes. This is a post about religion, but we're going to get through this and everybody will be fine. Now it's been awhile since my last World Religions class, and I'm paranoid about offending someone/something by not capitalizing first letters of religious nouns, so I'm going to capitalize all of it. Bear with me. Thanks.

*DISCLAIMER*
You may want to reconsider reading this post if:
- The only thing on your iPod is 1990's Christian rock
- The only thing on your iPod is "_____" (is there such a thing as "Atheist" music? If so, that.)
- You are receiving pastoral "de-gayification" counseling
- Your most recent list of Google searches includes more than one query involving the term "jihad"
- You came upon this blog by Googling "jihad"
- You can't see out the back window of your car due to numerous bumper stickers lauding Charles Darwin
- You would consider sending your kids to the church from the documentary "Jesus Camp"
- You 'celebrate Christmas on a day in September when you know it won't be commercialized'


So yesterday in the aftermath of the tectonic plate-diving (that's 'earthquake', to those of you who didn't have Ms. Beachy for 9th grade Life Science), I couldn't help but think to myself "Welp, any minute now Pat Robertson is going to pop out of hiding with an explanation for all of this."

Good ol' P-Rob; are we even threatened or angered by him anymore? Such a goofy dude; I feel like he's woven into the fabric of American folklore, much like Johnny Appleseed. He seems to have a "Biblical" explanation for everything. Now I have many (ok, a few) dear friends who take the good ol' B-I-B-L-E literally, and I love those kiddos. But I have a problem: does religion NEED to explain everything in order to be useful? I understand that I am just one lone blogger in a sea of millions who have already chewed, swallowed, and digested this topic, but I want to chew on this morsel a little more; there's still plenty of flavor left.

If you haven't read it yet, I highly recommend the book "The Unlikely Disciple" by Kevin Roose. You'll find it in the "Religion and Spirituality" section of Barnes and Noble, but don't let that throw you; it's an account of a student from Brown University who goes undercover for a year at Liberty University, arguably one of the most conservative schools in America. It will make you laugh, it will make you think, it will make you angry, and it might even make you reconsider your spiritual position. Endorsements aside, the author points out something very insightful in the beginning of the book: he says something like, "Going after fundamentalist Christians is like hunting dairy cows using an assault rifle and a scope." It's unnecessary, and a bit cruel. I don't want to do that. I believe in God. I go to church. I respect all brands and doses of religion, provided they don't give rationale for hating people or setting things on fire... I don't like fire. But I've always been fiercly proud of my critical thinking skills, and I think EVERY dicey topic in the world could use a good dose of critical thinking from time to time. Agree? Then take a walk with me, here...

Fundamentalist Pat Robertson has a penchant for explaining the unexplainable using what he believes to be "Biblical" reasoning. He and his cronies feel that they have to scramble to explain everything that comes along in the news, or else risk discrediting a belief in God. Why? Why must we take the "magic" out of the world and explain the unexplainable? Is that the job of religion? If we don't believe that the Bible explains everything, does it mean we don't believe in God? I can't get on board with that. I think that's a very simplistic way of looking at things, and one that requires the bare minimum of reasoning and critical thinking skills. I think that part of faith is knowing that there are many things that can't be explained by anyone (spiritual or otherwise) and accepting that even in our logic-crazed world, there won't always be an answer. I think that the Pat Robertsons of the world are making those of us with religious convictions look like obsolete dingbats. In times of crisis, he gets on the TV and sounds off. Many strong Christians feel that they have to make a choice; do they believe him, or not? Are they on the Crazy Bus, or are they off? I want to tell these guys "it's OK to be moderate...God gave us the ability to reason!" The Gospel makes it pretty clear that the Christianity Buffet is open 24-hours, there's no dress code, and it's all-you-can-eat, so why would it not be OK to sample what you want and leave behind the gospel equivalent of the leftover fried chicken and moldy potato salad?

If you're searching for a spiritual foundation that will explain everything, you're missing the point; the beauty of spirituality IS the unexplainable...the "magic", if you will. All of the Pat Robertsons and Ms. Beachys combined couldn't explain it all. Let's agree to spend our time on earth enjoying the magic.

...That's my opinion, anyway. My apologies if I left out a capitalization.

The Case for the "High-Maintenance" Woman

QUESTION TO ASK YOURSELF: What is the greatest thing a guy can say about his girlfriend when talking to his buddies?

"You'd love her, man. She's so chill."
"She's great, she's a very go-with-the-flow, chill girl."
"She's just so chill to talk to. She's down for anything."
"It's great, she's just so down-to-earth and chill."

Chill. That's what we need to be. Every man just wants to have a good, "chill" girl to take home to his family. Can you "chill"? What IS "chill'? Is "chill" saying that you'd rather have your birthday dinner at Dave & Busters with the detritus of America because it's a place your boyfriend/husband enjoys? Is it not asking for the slightly more expensive Hermes bracelet for a birthday present, or not expecting anything at all? Is a "chill" girl just quiet all the time? I see a myriad of problems here; not the least of which is the fact that "chill" isn't actually grammatically correct, but that's a story for a different blog...

In order for me to delve deeper into this, I am going to first broadly define the term "high-maintenance"; unfortunately it's very hard to describe it without using a cliché (interesting....)

High-maintenance (a term once reserved for specialty cars and fussy machinery) describes vocal, opinionated women who have standards for themselves, and won't settle on something just because it will make life easier. They have a lot of self-confidence, self-esteem, and moxie--not to mention, they wouldn't be caught dead at a Dave & Buster’s on their birthday when they'd prefer a tapas bar. They probably dress well. If you still can't quite picture who I'm describing, look at the antagonist from nearly any modern drama; that’s her.

                                                  
Okay bros, why all the animosity toward this Alpha-Female? What about her gets the bros so upset? Any bros out there in the brosphere want to take that one? Why it is that if we don't meet the standards of "chill" we're exiled, or presumed to a ___ (insert common pejorative term for women here.)

I think it's because men love to search out "rarities" with the women they date, and right now, "chill" girls seem to be harder and harder to come by. Were you aware? Our college graduation rate is better than the men's now, our salaries are climbing, and fortune-500 companies love bragging about how many of us they're putting in prime management positions. We're smarter, getting better jobs, making more money, and requiring better stuff that meets our standards. I say it's about time we caught up to the bros! Not to sound like a tampon ad, but...being a woman feels pretty damn good. The "chill" woman is going the way of the kitten heel...frumpy and out of style.

What's a bro to do? Well bros, I hate to tell you but I think you'd best learn to adapt. Maybe men need to start learning different ways to approach the strong-willed and high-maintenance female. The bros need to get out of the bar (and please use hand sanitizer first), into some decent clothes, and immediately head out to where this new breed of woman is hiding. She may be at the museum of fine arts. Perhaps she's at the new wine tasting event. She could be stalking the new fall collection at Nordstrom since she just got a raise last week. YOU WANT TO FIND HER. Maybe she isn't as "chill" as you'd like your companion to be, but she's driven, smart, self-sufficient, and ready for the future. Don't be afraid of the high-maintenance woman. She's certainly not afraid of you.

Sunday Post: Entitlement. We Haz It.

You know what I find really annoying? When all 4 of my $25 Venti Starbucks reusable tumbler cups are in in dishwasher. I mean, really. It grinds my gears. Because then I have to wash one, and frankly Scarlett I just don't have the time.

Welcome to the generation over the overachieving and entitled.

Let me tell you a little bit about ourselves; our parents, teachers, coaches, etc. have pushed, shoved and cajoled us into doing great things (or "average" things, depending on who you ask), and now we've earned the freedom to openly complain about things that just really aren't that bad. Don't believe me? Here are a few that I've caught myself lamenting over. Some are in jest, some are not. You be the judge. Let's just pause and appreciate the fact that this great nation of ours affords us the luxury of complaining about stupid things. Maybe you have a few of your own that you'd like to add...I recently learned that this blog has a "comment" section, so... Go crazy.

- I hate when all I want to do is watch a YouTube video of a cat doing something hilarious, but I have to wait for the dagblasted thing to "buffer." Excuse me, but I didn't see this happening on any Verizon commercial...can you hear me now?

- It's 2011, and the ideal purse size has not been invented yet. Everything is either too big or too small. Either I'm busting the seams trying to cram my Kindle into the damn thing, or it's so big that at the end of the week I find 3 different mix-and-match outfits in there, made up of various layers of clothing I've discarded. Plus belts.

- H&M doesn't have an online store. No further comment.

- Why are people still wasting money on those awkward, tottery, orthotic-looking shoe things that Kim Kardashian is promoting? The Tone-Ups, or whatever. Are we in THAT much of a hurry to wear horribly unattractive footwear? We have the last 30 years of our lives to do that. Plus, leading researchers (and by that I mean my friends who are in PT school/businesses involving exercise) say that they aren't worth squat--which is, by the way, the exercise you should be doing if you REALLY want to improve your butt. 

- Needles are a MISERABLE, barbaric medium of transporting vaccines into the body. We can now transplant livers, hearts and spleens. We can grow various body parts from pumpkin spores. There's topical shampoo to reverse hair loss. And yet...shots. I don't buy it. I'm wise to you, GlaxoSmithKline...there's something you're not sharing with  us. Sadists.

Now that you've taken this trip down misery lane with me, what's a First World Country-type problem that irritates you? Don't be shy. Cyberspace is a friendly place!

Obligatory Post: 5 Reasons Why I Hate Jersey Shore

To make an uninteresting story short, I'm back and this is my new blog. I HAD an old blog, but I can't find it. I literally can't. Nevermind how this is possible, just go with it and add me to your RSS feed. All set? Terrific.


On a less mundane note...It's back. And now I'm not talking about my blog, or my GERD. It's that time of year again when I have to have my typically high-brow (thanks to the careful pruning of my Facebook friend tree) newsfeed blown up with silly quotes, contrived catchphrases, and the name Smooky. I think I have that spelled right...

1. The fact that I am even making a post about J.S. implies that I have strong feelings about it one way or another, which is playing completely into the hands of the producers; love it or hate it, people are TALKING about it, thus garnering interest for this miserable show. The Today Show, The View, The Daily Bugle, Toddlers & Tiaras, Diabetics Monthly...what do they have in common? They all have yappers that inevitably want to come out of the woodwork and yap about their disdain for it.

2. The music. Oh my GAH, the music...what's that called, again? The jerky, I-Can't-Stop-My-CD-From-Skipping soundtrack that runs throughout the 9-minute long show? Do we call it DubStep? I don't even know what it is. But I hate it. Oh, and the fact that they've somehow managed to "mash" it with Italian opera music this season is nothing more than a snarky culture injection that 98% of its target viewing population won't pick up on. Brava.

3. The people. More specifically, the people ON the show. At this point, is there a single non-brain dead person out there who DOESN'T think that they're basically a bunch of terrible, terrible actors? Do people think they're actually creating these catchphrases themselves? THEY'RE NOT EVEN WORDS. Actually, let me clear that up...they're words only in the Black-Eyed Peas sense; those clowns can sputter all the nonsensical literary gravy they want, and we love them for it.

4. The people. More specifically, the people who WATCH the show. Now before you get your undies in a bind, let me break these out into 2 categories: people who watch the show to make fun of it and/or give cultural commentary, and people who watch it because they believe it is actually good television. It's a fine line, and many people tread the middle. Not to single out the high school crowd, but I'm speaking primarily about them because they seem to be the most apt to mimic the behaviors they're seeing. If I see one more glow-in-the-dark bracelet or bedazzled trucker hat, I'm going to beat someone over the poofed head with a duck phone. (Pshh, yeah I know about the duck phone.)

5. We're at the point now where even making fun of J.S. seems passe (imagine there's an accent over the "e" for me. Thanks.) I mean, the late-night comics have picked over this rotting carcass for months and months. The STD jokes have been shared, the spoofs have spoofen, and my grandmother could probably pick a Situation costume out of a Halloween lineup. We've determined that literally every demographic, race, color, and creed is offended by the show in some way, but not quite offended enough to do anything about it. We're spinning the wheels.

What's the meaning of all of this? How do you feel right now? Enlightened? Miffed that you got roped in to reading yet another critical nugget about this terrible show? Satisfied enough to continue reading my blog (pretty-please)? Worried about "where we will go from here" if this audio-visual pollution is part of a downward trend? For that, I tell you to relax. Shock value is nothing new, and it goes in and out of demand. Don't believe me? Think about the 1980's; a time right after the free-love, drugged-out 70's when people reverted back to family values, safe sex, and safer music. Pop culture is a self-cleaning oven. I made that up just now...you can quote me on it.

Also, I heard a rumor that next year they're 86-ing the Shore and putting Gilmore Girls in that spot. No seriously. Check your local listings.