Lesson #159: “Swag” is not a real word

It’s Thursday and it has come to my attention that there is a serious epidemic among the girls of my generation.

 

And no, I’m not talking about being completely self-involved and narcissistic like that Time Magazine article called us, even though we totally are.

 

I’m talking about dating douchebags. That’s right, I’m calling you out ladies.

 

We can do better.

 

Here’s an Urban Dictionary definition, in case you’re not sure.

 

Douchebag: An individual who has an over-inflated sense of self worth, compounded by a low level of intelligence, behaving ridiculously in front of others with no sense of how moronic he appears.

 

I know it can be hard to realize that you’re dating a douchebag, they’re just people walking around like everyone else and they might even act like a super cool guy when nobody else is around. But they’re there. On the inside. And maybe the outside if he uses enough hair product.

 

So I’ve come up with a list of douchebag symptoms. If your significant other is experiencing one or more of these symptoms, he might be a douchebag. Seek medical attention. Or just break up with him.

 

1. Posting gym selfies. Nobody cares about how many reps or lifts or whatever you did.

 

2. Vanity license plates. They are almost always embarrassing.

Really?

 

3. Also using the word “swag” at all. Ever. Just stop.

 

You guys ruined a perfectly acceptable car.

 

5. Doing that thing where he wears a vest from a three piece suit with jeans. Just wear the whole suit. Girls love guys in suits. Girls hate guys in partial suits.

 

6. Telling sports and/or high school related “glory days” stories. No one cares.

 

7. Axe Body Spray. How hasn’t that stuff been taken off the market yet?

 

8. Talking about how much money he has. Or how much money he doesn’t have. Stop talking about money.

 

9. Hitting on girls at the gym. Or you met by him hitting on you at the gym. Can’t you tell that we’re busy, guy?

 

10. T-shirts with long sleeve shirts underneath. That might just be me. I hate that.

 

11. If he at any time has ever reminded you of this guy.

 

12. He drives his car really fast in residential neighborhoods for no reason. That is not impressive. We are fearing for our lives in the passenger seat.

 

13. He sends a mass text to all the girls he knows everyday saying “Good morning, beautiful.” That’s disgusting. And yeah, Casey. We all knew.

 

14. Parking your ostentatious car with the vanity plate across two spots like he thinks he’s the Queen of England. Only she can park like that. And only because she’s a million years old.

 

15. Being named Blake. Sorry anyone named Blake. You’re probably a douchebag.

 

 

Good luck diagnosing your boyfriends with the douchebag disease, ladies.

 

Acknowledging the problem is the first step to recovery.

 

Or you could just give him this break up cake as a parting gift.

 

 

Lesson #158: #fabulouslyunemployed

It’s No Shame Monday and I am eating a bagel and cream cheese with bacon on it. You should try it, it’ll change your life.

 

I’m so sorry, people who actually read this thing. I know I’ve been slacking in our relationship. The one where I write things and you, well I don’t know what you do, but still.

 

I promise to be more committed to you, and the whole writing thing. Because I have a lot of time on my hands these days.

 

Because I have joined the honorable force of the unemployed. That’s right. I quit my part time mall job.

 

After a year and a half long career in retail, I just thought it was time to move on to bigger and better things. Like spending the summer sleeping, hanging out with my dog, and really getting into all those Pinterest recipes I’ve been saving up.

 

I haven’t had a summer off since high school, so I’m not even really sure what to do with myself.

 

But I am completely sure of the things I will never have to do again now that my part-time mall career is finally over.

 

1. Tell a girl that a dress so small that I can see her uterus looks “super cute” on her.

 

2. Hang up fifty pairs of pants that I just folded down last week.

 

3. Circle a parking garage for twenty minutes because the lady in front of me keeps doing the “stop and wait” for cars that aren’t actually leaving.

 

4. Watch people flip over entire tables of freshly folded anything, knowing the same thing will happen as soon as I re-fold it again.

 

5. Get called into the fitting room to be the deciding vote on whether it really is pee or not on the floor. It is. It always is.

 

6. Come to the mall on a Saturday. Ever.

 

7. Clean this up.

Messes like this are the reason girls who work at the mall have such bad attitudes.

 

8. “Oh, there’s no price tag on it? Must be free!”

 

9. Try to bob and weave through a store packed with people like a can of sardines while pushing a gravity challenged cart of merchandise.

 

10. Get called a variety of creative insults for not letting someone share a fitting room, return $200 worth of merchandise without a receipt, or just because the lines are too long.

 

11. Tell a woman that no, she cannot take her pants and/or top off to try something on in the middle of the store. I don’t care how long the fitting room wait is.

 

12. Get my hair caught in the cash drawer when I wear it down and I’m on the register.

 

13. Be called into work on every single day off, even the day before my last shift.

 

14. Get hit on by one of Santa Claus’s helper elves while I’m trying to lock the doors.

 

15. Accept the slightly moist exact change that was pulled out of a lady’s humongous cleavage. On more than one occasion.

 

 

Retail workers really put up with a lot of shit, so you should try to be a little nicer to them.

 

It’s a lot easier not to cry in the break room on your lunch hour that way.

 

But now I am FREE AT LAST.

 

And I feel great.

 

 

So now begins my #fabulouslyunemployed summer.

 

Get ready world, I’m going to take a nap in you.

 

 

Lesson #157: #hermitfriday

It’s Tuesday and I think I have developed the kind of nervous tick where you check your email every 30 seconds.

 

Which will go so perfectly with my other nervous tick that is actually a twitch. Just don’t bring it up in public like my mom does.

 

I have been off work since Thursday. Which means I have barely left my house since Thursday.

 

I was supposed to be apartment hunting in New York this past weekend, but spoiler alert: that didn’t happen. The thing about trying to make plans to something cool with your life is that if there is another person involved in those plans and they change their mind, then all of your plans change too. Which sucks. Depending on other people is the worst.

 

So instead of doing cool things with my life, I stayed at home, ate s’mores that I made on the stove (because I’m a genius), and bought a lot of books on my iPad to try to fill the “still living in Ohio with my parents” void in my life.

 

I love you parents, but there comes a time in a 23-year-old’s life when she really needs her own bathroom.

 

Anyway, because I work part-time retail, I am completely dumbfounded when it comes to doing anything on the weekend. I’m usually at work for 9 hours a day Friday through Sunday, so I’ve forgotten what the world on a weekend looks like. Which basically means I just didn’t leave my house.

 

I’m a big fan of a hermit weekend. I like staying home and hanging out with my dog and letting my mom buy OnDemand movies for us to watch based solely on whatever actors are in them.

 

But I know a lot of people feel ashamed or embarrassed if they don’t have plans for the weekend. Apparently, being social is important to the general population.

 

So, to avoid those awkward shame feelings and to feel like you’re “fitting in” even though you aren’t, I have come up with a five-step plan of how to trick people into thinking you’re out on the town even though you’re not.

 

Step 1: Pre-Game

Just like with any big night out, you always have to do some prep-work. Except in this case, it’s not the kind where you drink before you go out drinking. To pre-game for a night of staying at home in your most flattering Star Wars t-shirt and spandex shorts, you want to spend the two days prior talking to everyone about how “pumped you are for the weekend.” People are always really excited about getting blackout drunk, so just go along with it. They’ll think that’s what you’re doing too.

 

Step 2: Stay off Facebook

Everyone knows Twitter is the new Facebook and Facebook is the new MySpace. AKA where all the kids who aren’t doing anything fun hang out on Saturday night. There’s nothing to do on there anyway except stalk your ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend and look at that girl from high school’s pictures of her shotgun wedding. Actually, I love doing both of those things.

 

Step 3: Stay on Twitter

Like I said, Twitter is where all the cool kids hang out on Saturday night. Because a drunk tweet is a much better idea than a drunk text. For some unknown reason. Science is still working on that one. Anyway, send poorly spelled tweets with improper grammar and a lot of exclamation points throughout the night. Tweet about how much fun you’re having, Taylor Swift lyrics that lead people to believe you’ve met your soul mate at an 18 and up bar, or just post a tweet of only emojis. An emoji is worth 1000 words. I think that’s how that goes.

 

Step 4: Get a friend involved

Every hermit has hermit friends. So just get one of your hermit friends on board with the plan, and then you can tweet at each other about things that aren’t actually happening. Pretending to be at a terrible bar is much more convincing if you’re pretending to be there with someone else. Nobody goes to Park Street alone. And if you do, shame on you. That place is creep city already without random people lurking around by themselves.

 

Step 5: Do whatever the hell you want

Once you’ve convinced the general public of your internet circle that you’re out getting plastered like they are, you are free to wear the leggings with the holes in them and eat straight out of the refrigerator. Enjoy yourself, girl. The world is your oyster. Or at least your living room, because we both know you’re not leaving the house.

 

 

I’m actually kind of impressed with myself, this is a really good plan.

 

I wish I’d thought it up in high school when I actually cared about not leaving the house on Friday night.

 

Now I tweet about my adventure-less Friday nights and call it #hermitfriday.

 

Because I just can’t help myself.

 

 

Lesson #156: Look good, feel good

It’s Wednesday and I swear if there was any more sunshine outside my window it would bust in here and fry me up like a pancake.

 

Not that you actually fry pancakes, but that was the first thing I thought of, so just let it go.

 

It’s May, which means only one thing to me and hopefully everyone else.

 

 

Justin Timberlake Awareness Month.

 

Just be aware. He’s still happening.

 

Anyway, I know it’s Wednesday, but I’m going to talk about my weekend. Because I have yet to do anything exciting since then and I want you all to know about it.

 

Last weekend, I had the great opportunity to go back to Flying Horse Farms, a camp in Ohio dedicated to making kids with serious illnesses just feel like kids. If you live in Ohio or near Ohio and like feeling your heart burst like a too full balloon with happy emotions, volunteer for a weekend. These kids are amazing.

 

I know it sounds like a selfless thing to do or whatever, but actually I think I get so much out of it sometimes that it might be a little selfish. In one weekend I get to help kids have the best time ever, learn a lot about myself, and eat a lot, and I mean a lot, of bacon.

 

For this camp session, I was paired with a wonderful family that had a seven year old boy and an eight year old girl. And let me tell you, you learn a lot about yourself when a 7 and 8 year old are calling the shots.

 

1. Even though you thought you were the pizza eating champion, a little boy can crush your record in five minutes.

 

2. When offered a second go around on a horse and wagon ride, you always take it.

 

3. You’re going to need a lot of coffee. I mean a lot. And it’s best if you mix in a packet of hot chocolate. The extra sugar is both delicious and necessary.

 

4. If a little kid wants you to be the one to put the worm on the hook, you do it. No matter how much you hate getting worm guts under your fingernails.

 

5. Everyone looks good in a cowboy hat. Especially when paired with a pink sequin jacket.

 

6. There are no small victories. They are all big, huge, jump up and dance victories.

 

7. Also you might be the only one dancing, but don’t let that stop you.

 

8. Tea parties will never ever stop being cool.

 

9. S’mores are the best dessert. No contest.

 

10. Always BYOB. Bring your own blanket. Because you just never know.

 

 

Obviously, I learned a lot of important life lessons last weekend.

 

Probably the most important being how great I look in a cowboy hat.

 

Look good, feel good, right?

Lesson #155: The dinosaurs had dibs

It’s No Shame Monday and I never want to put on real pants again.

 

They are just so much effort.

 

Leggings lend themselves to a much larger range of leg motion, which is imperative when living in a house with as many obstacles and booby traps as the one I live in. There are baby gates everywhere for corralling my dog, who is one extreme obstacle herself.

 

An obstacle with razor sharp teeth and fluffy fur that blends in with the wood floors so you can’t anticipate an attack.

 

Anyway, here are this week’s No Shame Monday Shame Champions!

 

 

Blankets really are a No Shame Monday necessary accessory.

 

I’ve heard a rumor that today is also Earth Day.

 

I used to be super into Earth Day when it was about appreciating freshly cut grass and recycling. But recently, as in this morning, I’ve found that the vegan/vegetarians have taken over Earth Day for themselves, and are making it into another day where they post disturbing pictures on my Facebook feed trying to get me to change my eating habits.

 

Next thing you know, they’ll try to take over Groundhog’s day. They’ll want an avocado to spring out of a hole in the ground and see if it casts a shadow.

 

I have no problem with people not wanting to eat meat and/or animal products. Good for you, girl. But I do have a problem with people trying to make me feel bad because I eat meat.

 

I know you think you are making the world a better place, but a world where I can’t eat chicken ceasar salads on my breaks at work would be a dark, gloomy black hole. Trust me.

 

Let’s give this holiday back to the guys who really loved the earth.

 

 

The flare jeans wearing dinosaurs. They had dibs on loving the Earth way before any vegans did.

 

Those guys liked Earth so much that they didn’t even build Taco Bells on it, that’s how much they wanted it to stay green and perfect. And everyone loves Taco Bell.

 

But they did build an Old Navy. Because where else are you going to get flare jeans that flatter that body type?

 

So happy Earth Day, and let’s all remember today who really called dibs on this planet.

Lesson #154: I’m still not an adult

It’s Thursday and I never want to go to work again.

 

Every time I have more than one day off at a time, I get the idea that everything would be fine if I just quit my job and took naps professionally.

 

It is a dangerous game.

 

Especially now that I am 23 and a supposedly real adult, which I have been for an entire two days.

 

My first act as a real adult was to go to the eye doctor.

 

Actually my first act was to drink beer and eat cake, but it sounds more grown up if I say the first thing I did was go to the doctor, right?

 

So yes, I went to the eye doctor this morning. And now my pupils are humongous.

 

I have successfully been talking my eye doctor out of giving me these pupil enlarging eye drops for years, but somehow this year he tricked me into agreeing. Perhaps my resolve has weakened in my old age.

 

There’s nothing like driving home with giant post eye doctor visit pupils to make you feel alive and slightly dangerous.

 

Also, my doctor started talking about me getting that laser eye surgery in the near future. Since I’ve maxed out the prescription power in the brand of contacts I’ve been wearing since 9th grade and can only see about six inches in front of my face without wearing contacts.

 

And all I could think about was when Jessica Simpson and her friend got their eyes lasered on that show she had when she married Nick Lachey, and how they went out to lunch afterward and they were falling all over the place and couldn’t aim their forks into their mouths.

 

So that’s my future.

 

Getting your eyes lasered is a very adult thing to do at least, right?

 

I swear, when I was in high school I thought I’d have my entire life figured out by the time I was 23.

 

I’m really not sure how people figure out how to be adults. It seems like there should have been some sort of class offered in college to teach you all the things you need to know, but I don’t remember it being offered. Maybe it’s because I went to art school.

 

Either way, it seems that either I’ve fallen behind, or I’ve just been wrong my whole life.

 

So, here is my list of things I thought I’d be able to do at 23, but can’t.

 

1. Have a career. Retail was definitely not part of the post-college plan.

 

2. Decide on a place to eat dinner in less than 20 minutes.

 

3. Not laugh at poop jokes.

 

4. See someone from high school in public and successfully fight the urge to run away. I always run away.

 

5. Not cry in public places. It happens way more frequently than I’d like to admit.

 

6. Do my taxes myself. Especially the local ones. They don’t make monkey level software for filling those out, which makes them impossible.

 

7. Stop taking naps. It’s a real problem.

 

8. Be near a crying baby without visibly cringing.

 

9. Eat anything at all without spilling it on myself.

 

10. Be able to fill out and hand in paper work of any kind without having a minor panic attack that I spelled everything wrong.

 

 

So obviously, I am well on my way to becoming a fully functional adult.

 

Or just living at my parents house for the rest of time.

 

Whichever comes first.

Lesson #153: Birthday dolphins

It’s Tuesday and I am 23 years old today.

 

So you have to respect me. Because I have been alive for so long.

 

I am an adult.

 

Just kidding.

 

But I do have a lot of big plans to eat a lot of big food today.

 

So I’ll just leave you a really quick list of perfect things to give me for my birthday. Because I’m sure you’ve been suffering with the inner turmoil of what to get me for weeks.

 

1. A pet dolphin. Everyone knows they’d make the best pets.

 

2. One of those new Cool Ranch Doritos tacos from T-Bell. The one by my house got torn down and I am too lazy to drive more than five minutes to get one.

 

3. My own Real Housewives type show, minus the housewife part.

 

4. Several thousand Twitter followers.

 

5. A candlelight steak dinner with Ron Swanson.

 

6. To go to this wedding.

 

 

7. A Chanel handbag full of chocolate bars.

 

 

So you can go ahead and send all of that over.

 

It’s just the respectful thing to do.

Lesson #152: Don’t let bugs have internet access

It’s Thursday and I just remembered that I trapped a bug under a shot glass about three hours ago and didn’t do anything about it. So it’s still imprisoned, waiting to meet it’s doom.

 

Sorry, buddy.

 

Well, you’re not my buddy. You are a jerk bug that I can’t identify as any specific species of bug. But there have been a lot of you wandering around my bedroom recently, and you were not invited and you don’t even pay rent.

 

And there’s nothing I hate more than a freeloader.

 

I feel like this is a common problem around this time of year. Everything comes back to life including the bugs and then they start trying to get into your house and eat your snacks and sleep in your bed.

 

And when you live in an 100 year old house, they usually succeed in their home invasion.

 

I am not opposed to smushing bugs, because they are rude and ugly. But sometimes I get these large, mutant bugs that either are too big to try to assassinate or have an impenetrable exoskeleton that makes it too difficult.

 

So I have to come up with other options for these freeloaders. Because either they’ve got to get a job and start paying their way around here, or they’ve got to get the fuck out.

 

1. Paint tiny clown faces on them and teach them to jump through hoops. Then make people pay $5 to come see the amazing bug circus. It will be a let down, but the tickets are non-refundable.

 

2. Ants can carry up to like 20 times their own weight, so make those guys carry in your groceries from the car.

 

3. If you have a large yet unimpressive shot glass collection like I do, just trap them under those until you get around to carrying them outside. Just don’t knock the glasses over. It’s like setting a murderer free from solitary confinement after he’s been in there doing push ups and thinking only of revenge for twenty years.

 

4. Just flush them down the toilet. A burial at sea is always appropriate.

 

5. When I was a kid someone tried to tell me that you could freeze a bee, tie a piece of floss around it, then unfreeze it and have a bee on a leash. So that’s an option.

 

6. I bet people would pay good money to see a spider tap dance. Or at least it would get a lot of views on YouTube.

 

7. Force them to read Cry, the Beloved Country. They will die of boredom halfway through and you can sweep them up with a vacuum.

 

8. Send them an eviction notice.

 

You’re welcome in advance for how well these work.

 

I hope bugs don’t have internet access.

 

The element of surprise is crucial.

 

Also, if they settle in with a Netflix account I’ll never get rid of them.

Lesson #151: There’s not an app for that

It’s Tuesday and my life is complete.

 

Because it is finally warm enough to wear my spandex shorts out of the house.

 

You know what they always say, “look good, feel good.”

 

I don’t actually know who says that, but I feel great. Minus all of the flesh wounds I’m now receiving on my bare legs from my gremlin of a dog.

 

I think a great white shark might have a softer bite than LuLu. She is equal parts adorable and menacing.

 

Anyway, I just had the entire weekend off. I know what you’re thinking, that happens every week. But not for those of us still working part-time retail.

 

This was my first full weekend not working without requesting time off since 2012.

 

I was so excited. But since I’m used to only having time off on week days when the real people of the world are at work, I had no idea what to do with the same days off that regular people have.

 

So I mostly just slept a lot.

 

And I had the best dream ever.

 

I actually don’t remember most of it. But I do remember that my iPhone could also microwave things. It was so impressive.

 

When I woke up I was so pissed that I couldn’t actually use my phone as a microwave. There’s no app for that.

 

But there should be.

 

I was so sure that by the year 2013 we’d at least have hoverboards and be dressing like Zenon. But no. We aren’t.

 

We don’t even have a microwave app.

 

There are quite a few things that my iPhone can’t do that it really should be able to by now.

 

1. iChocolate. I want to be able to download chocolate bars. I don’t think that’s too much to ask for.

 

2. iDentist. Just take a selfie of the inside of your mouth and send it over so he can tell you if all the iChocolates you’ve been eating have caused any cavities or not. The drive to the dentist is always the most inconvenient of all drives.

 

3. iShouldNotBeTextingYou. I am my own worst enemy. Please phone, save me from myself.

 

4. iMargarita. A map that can show you your proximity to margaritas at any time. It’s just like always knowing where the bathrooms are located. Always know where the margaritas are.

 

5. iCan’tDressMyself. This would be just like Cher Horowitz’s closet from Clueless only on your phone. I just really want someone else to choose my outfits for me and I’m too poor for a personal stylist.

 

6. iPeriod. If Mother Nature could just send me a text once a month telling me I’m good to go, it would open up a lot of free time in my schedule.

 

7. iRyanGosling. Just like the bathroom and the margaritas, always know where the Gosling is. Plus it could send you encouraging updates throughout the day like, “Hey girl, good luck making it to work in that rush hour traffic. I believe in you.” I know that would make me have less driving induced panic attacks, that’s for sure.

 

8. iSpellCheck. Maybe if we make it a cool new app, people will actually use it. Grammar is not a joke, people.

 

9. iShouldJustGoHome. You know when you walk up to an event or something and you can feel it in your gut that you’re going to be miserable but you go in anyway and stay for an hour, then once you finally leave you’re just like, “what a fucking waste of my time.” This app could tell you to just go home and avoid the whole terrible thing.

 

10. iAvoidance. An alarm that goes off whenever someone from high school or college or any other time in your past that you’d rather not casually chat about comes within a certain radius of you, so that you can run away and avoid the awkward interaction. I would get so much use out of this one.

 

 

So Apple, if you could just get on creating these, that would be great.

 

Especially the microwave one.

 

I want to make Lean Pockets on the go.

Lesson #150: Red and blotchy is the new tan

It’s Wednesday and my dog has a new favorite spot. The dishwasher.

 

Seriously.

 

 

So that’s a thing.

 

In other news, it is officially allergy season.

 

The lack of air flowing through my nostrils is the true sign that Spring has finally made her entrance. That bitch is always late.

 

Nothing is more attractive than an allergic reaction.

 

Your face swells up, you get all red and itchy, and your nose becomes a faucet running on full blast.

 

The best thing about allergic reactions is that they happen at the absolute worst times possible.

 

Like when you’re at work, or at a social event, or talking to someone super good looking.

 

And the best option you have is to just play it off super casual. Acting casual is always the go-to move for any uncomfortable situation.

 

Like last weekend when I almost fell backwards into a wall full of clothes at work, grabbed a bar, pulled myself up, and leaned my elbow back on it like I was just taking a break. So casual.

 

Of course my co-worker saw me do it and told everyone. But that’s beside the point.

 

So today, I’m going to teach you how to make an allergic reaction look good.

 

1. If your skin is all red and blotchy, just say red is the new tan. People are always looking for the next big thing, skin-wise.

 

2. “My nose is just running constantly like this because it’s this new cleanse I’m doing, it’s supposed to like rid you of all these toxins and give you a whole new perspective on life. And you lose ten pounds right out of your nostrils.” Bitches love cleanses.

 

3. When your eyes turn red and puffy, tell everyone you got an experimental eye surgery that made you able to see in 5D, which nobody has ever even seen before, and those are the side effects but it’s so worth it because you can see people’s souls now.

 

4. “Oh, these hives all over my body? These are a new form of skin art. Forget floral prints, hives are all the rage for Spring.” You won’t even be lying.

 

5. Tell people that you’re sneezing so much because it’s this new form of yoga and sneezing is how you release your inner zen or whatever.

 

 

You’re welcome in advance for how cool people are about to think that you are.

 

Get ready to skyrocket to a mediocre level of popularity, my allergic friends.

 

Also I just want everyone to know that thinking about allergies enough to write this made me have a sneezing fit.

 

If that’s not commitment, I don’t know what is.