My Horrible Rotten No Good Very Bad Terrible 20's

My Past Lives in a Dead Hard Drive

2010-07-13T19:55:00.003-05:00

When people tell you to back up your computer, they really mean it. Serious they are. This is one of those rare instances that fall into actual proven advice that you should follow and not ignore. Not until the Apple Genius with unnaturally spiky hair started lecturing to me like a 3 year-old while he explained the importance of backing up your files did I realize I had lost everything. And I mean everything. Not a mp3, jpeg, word file left in the house of Girl Twentiesh's MacBook. Totally blank. Guess my ex would be happy about the super clean filing system and desktop I now have due to the fact I have nothing. I should take a screenshot and impress him with my drastic improvements. So basically it's as if there were a fire. With no insurance to collect.

How does this make me feel? Sad to have lost precious photos I can't get back. Annoyed I have to somehow recollect the 10,000 songs I had acquired. Pretty sick about the countless writings, thoughts, projects I can no longer claim. But other than that...I feel pretty clean. Maybe an unintentional fresh start is a good thing?

So kids, keep in mind from a girl who knows:

1. Drunk driving is bad bad bad

2. Get good grades in high school and college

3. Workout for sanity and health and in case you need to defend yourself

4. There is such a thing as too many Red Bull vodkas

5. Guys have feelings too

6. Your best friends are your best friends, and they'll never let you down

7. You need to work hard to get places

8. If a guy orders a frozen drink and he's not in Mexico or Hawaii, stay away

9. If it sounds bad when you say it out loud- it is

10. Back up your files on your computer

No Limit to Public Embarrassment: The Bachelor

2010-07-06T06:52:00.003-05:00

Literally watched the television last night with my mouth hanging wide open in disbelief. After an early morning 3.5 hour drive home and a long weekend packed full I thought best to take it easy and indulge in a magazine reading/television watching night. Thought I'd check out how our most recent bachelorette was faring on The Bachelorette. Found her to be way less annoying than previous contestants, and the men were actually cute, but how anyone believe it's "real" is beyond me. Regardless, somehow the show ended with an interview with former Bachelor Jake and his recently split from fiance where they decided it would be cool to have a heated couples fight on national television. This, my friends, was real. Nobody could script with total accuracy the way a completely disgruntled couple with complete disrespect, emotional selfishness and pure idiocy fights. Imagine two 4 year olds having temper tantrums in adult outfits, and basically you have what I saw on television last night. It took personal embarrassment to a staggering new level. And they did it on television. On purpose. If there were ever a time to ask WTF it would be now. Being in a bad relationship is tough enough to admit and get over the far sightedness and poor poor judgement, but making your behavior the business of the rest of America? If I saw myself like that on television I would take the first plane to the most uncivilized country and ban myself there for all of eternity.

Then again, I should be really embarrassed to admit I watched the show and was affected so much I had to write about it.

I'm Not Strange- I'm Innovative

2010-06-23T23:08:00.002-05:00

I am the first one to admit I can be a bit off the wall. Not in the way of the crazies you pass on the street eating their hair and singing songs about mysterious people and events that probably never happened, but in an ordinary off the wall way where I may say/do/admit to something that would have you thinking I'm slightly quirky. But heck, aren't we all? I'm not special in my quirkiness, I just don't hide it.

For instance, growing up, I refused to let anyone sit on my bed. Not because it was "mine" or I didn't want someone to screw up my very ugly 80's and early 90's comforter (think teals), but because I couldn't handle the thought of a person's smell to be on the bed I slept in. Like an invasion into my safe haven of only me and my germs. Uh. I still can't handle it unless it's someone I'm attracted to. This has also translated into the refusal to use any blanket that I don't know the origins of. Imagine all the germs and smells on those!

Then there is food. Became a vegetarian at age twelve when I started to think literally about food. I mean how can you eat something when it's probably exactly what your thigh would like like baked in an oven? Gross to the millionth degree. I think it's actually a disorder, as I've had to consciously force myself to not think about food literally (like man-made items being essentially sponges injected with chemical flavor on a conveyor belt with depressed people in hairnets) so I don't become a real outcast unable to eat anything. I just don't go there anymore and repress the urge to visualize.

We all have our weird germ issues and phobias. But without getting into it, I know I'm not always conventional in thought. Half the time I have to preface statements with, "I clearly know this is not normal behavior or thought."

Yet a couple weeks ago, when I found myself in that very situation, offering my disclaimer to my uncle, he responded with "I don't think you're weird- you're just innovative."

And I'm taking it and running with it. I'm not strange- I'm innovative!

Wow. Thanks for the Support for my Goals.

2010-06-21T20:23:00.003-05:00

Recently I made the decision to run a marathon. A big deal, sorta, but lots of people make the same decision every year. And it really isn't that far-fetched for me, I have been an athlete most of my life. And this is what we do as we get older- think of random ways to challenge ourselves and make us feel better to keep ourselves going amidst dreadful work weeks. Want to spice up your life? Start running 30 miles a week. The pain of morning meetings dulls in comparison to limping your knee across 9 miles on a Saturday afternoon. I've actually quarantined myself on Friday nights, going to bed at 10pm, so I can prepare for my Saturday long runs (I cannot be trusted anywhere near a bar). Usually this decision is met with overwhelming family & friend support. Your nearest & dearest proclaiming, "Way to go! You can do it!" Nope. Not in my family. My family thinks I'm insane. Some quotes from my lovely family gathering yesterday:

"You probably won't even finish." (Father)

"Can I give you beer somewhere?" (Brother)

"I don't know why you're doing that." (Grandpa)

"People die doing marathons." (Grandma)

Silent shaking of the head (Twin Brother)

Wow! Thanks for the support guys! Love that "you can do anything" boost you're giving me to my difficult and challenging goal. Now if I die running my marathon I'm not only going to be dead- but humiliated- my family shaking their heads when I drop at mile 22 in their I-told-you-so sentimentality. Instead of R.I.P my grave will say, "If only you listened you wouldn't be dead."

Whatever. Now I want to kick the marathon's ass even more to prove to my family I can do it. And live through it. Without drinking a beer.

Your Cheating Brain. Gimme a Break.

2010-06-18T11:52:00.004-05:00

Breaking news! Study released that certain men have a genetic gene that gives them more trouble in relationships and are more likely to cheat. A study done in Sweden, in which scientists studied the gene types of 552 sets of twins, determined "there is a bonding chemical in some men that makes them less likely to be married and more likely to have bad relationships."

Wow, talk about totally useless information. What, are they going to develop anti-cheating medications now? I can just see the pharmaceutical commercials during Jersey Shore re-runs pushing men to buy pills to stop their unstoppable "genetic" behavior of cheating. It'd be a pretty fantastic money maker, because lots and lots of people cheat. Maybe I should jump on this...

Or better yet, now that this amazing discovery has been made, will women have access to genetic screenings before they walk down the isle? And of course she'll be sympathetic, because just like diabetes and bipolar disorder and baldness...he can't help it. He was programmed that way!

Don't get me wrong- I like science. It comes in handy to explain things we humans just need an answer to. Break all unexplainables down to a system of explainables. But there is something called BEHAVIOR. That we do have control over. To my knowledge I am not a robot being controlled by genes or God or Kevin Costner (although he might think he could develop an invention to do so)...pretty sure I make my day-to-day decisions on behavior. Do I want to scream F-U to people at times? Yes, yes I do. And it very well may be in my genes. But there's a moment between the genetic trigger and my mind/body connection allowing an action to pass through my urges and to the outside world. And I do believe I've got a pretty big part in this.

Now let me get back to some real news- the hot guys in the World Cup taking their shirts off.

If you'd like to know more about this study, check it.

And Why is it People Like to Watch Real People Bicker?

2010-06-10T20:54:00.004-05:00

Listening to television as I lay here in pain with a incredibly stiff back (apparently we fall apart as we get older) I'm in even more pain listening to these stupid bitches from The Real Housewives of New York bicker with each other. Guess I've caught the tail end of some reunion special, which by the looks of it I'm shocked anyone watched any episodes at all. I've watched the show a couple times in the last few years, in even more superficial hopes that it'd be about fashion. Show me some hot outfits and I can mute out the rest. Instead it's like being around a bunch of whiny girls in ugly outfits with ugly gay husbands and too much makeup on super shiny skin. And most of the time they're just throwing insults back and forth. Rather screeching insults back and forth. Why is this fun to watch? I don't like to be around mean petty girls in real life, so why on earth would I want to listen to perfect strangers be despicable? I don't get it. And not to mention, aren't they humiliated? I've been in fights before, and I certainly wouldn't ever want someone to see me behave irrationally on TV! I am totally missing why why why these people are entertaining. Because I'm just annoyed and embarrassed. These people make The Hills chicks seem classy.

Along With Stereotypes, I Also Enjoy A Fine Gentleman

2010-06-09T19:23:00.004-05:00

That sounds way worse than I meant. Not that way. Well...

But don't you just love a fine gentleman? It seems that us Gen Xers, Gen Y's and Millenials have been thrown into a gender bender world where lines blur between an old fashioned lady and chivalrous man into an everything goes homogeneous gender where acts of sophisticated niceties between men and women are, well, lacking. Now a guy will try and download an app to open doors and a woman will help a man apply bronzer to his abs. That's modern day chivalry.

Lucky for me I've been experiencing an onset of gentlemen-like behavior, and I actually feel like I'm in a romantic comedy or something. It feels so strange. So overwhelmingly pleasantly strange. First off is the manfriend, who literally opens every door for me. When he's dropping me off, he stops the car. Gets out. Walks me to my door. Kisses me goodbye. When I'm carrying something? It could be a pebble and he'd take it from my hand and carry it. Don't even get me started on the flowers, as I still blush just thinking about it. Let me tell you, it's something to get used to. Guys-men-people...they just aren't like this! But as a stubborn and extremely self-sufficient relatively young lady- it's really fabulous in an uncomfortably unknown way. Probably similar to when you first tasted beer. It tastes really weird, you can't understand it and aren't sure how you'll get used to it, but it makes you feel really good. Then the more you have the more you like it and suddenly you're drunk. I'm drunk on gentlemen.

And then the southern gents. Last few days being down south reminded me of how the older generation of southern boys still have that immediate reaction of impeccable manners to females. Men offering up seats for me, taking my luggage down for me from the overhead bin without even asking if I needed help, asking me for my I.D when I order a Bloody Mary (ok, that isn't really gentlemen behavior but at my age it makes me feel good). All this nice attention I'm waiting for the director to yell, "Cut!" and the lights to go out and my shoes stripped from my feet. In other words, back to normal.

But, for now I'm going to lather in the deliciousness of having nice men be nice to me. Soon enough one jackass will ruin it for everyone.

Man I Love a Good Stereotype

2010-06-08T23:08:00.002-05:00

Finding myself this evening in a hotel bar in Oklahoma City, well, I had no expectations. Kinda hoped my Chef Salad wouldn't be exclusively ham, iceberg lettuce and croutons- but oh well. Iceberg lettuce is refreshing and goes well with Pinot Noir (anything in my world goes well with Pinot Noir).

Wrapping up a short work trip I sat at the bar, reading my New York Times, and was so very delighted to be seated next two three great real stereotypes. Imagine if you will: Three men. Pot bellies. Golf shirts. Mid-fifties. Mustaches, oh glorious, mustaches. Not the trendy-retro-phase deal people are doing to be throwback...but authentic real-life handlebars with a touch of salt and pepper. Texans & Oklahomans, with sons at UT-Austin (where strangely being a northern gal I went to school) and jobs in commercial construction. And my God they were perfect real-life stereotypes. I am a total sucker for real-life stereotypes! I couldn't get enough. Harping on their wives, bickering about football, talking about golf, eating chicken wings. I actually diverted calls from the homeland to get high on stereotype stories. Which all brings me to this: Sometimes, life sucks. People suck. Work is stressful. Hearts are broken. People betray. But oh the joys of strangers who bring every cliche, every poor TV sitcom portrayal to life...GEMS. This. Is what makes life grand.

There's a Good Chance I'm Immature

2010-05-24T20:05:00.002-05:00

Realized this weekend that there's a good chance I may be immature. I mean, I watch The Bachelorette. I drink more than one cocktail every weekend and have actually puked from a hang over in recent months. Gotten in girl fights. I eat granola bars and almonds for most of my meals. I killed four very easy plants in less than a month during my attempt to become domestic and appear less like a single male bachelor. All behavior most people my age have shed. Interesting considering for most of my life people have commented on the fact I acted older than my age. Somehow I've regressed. So what do I do? Probably can't force maturity. Has to happen naturally. Or I move to LA so I can fit in.

The Great Boyfriend Experience Game

2010-05-17T07:45:00.002-05:00

I have a new brilliant idea for a board game that is not only entertaining, but practical and educational for any young woman/man about to enter the dating world. And for all those people who have never touched a board game- well, you're missing out- and, it could easily be changed into a Nintento Wii game or virtual whatever to maximize usability cross-generations.

The game? The Great Boyfriend Experience. The purpose? To survive dating in your lifetime with a healthy attitude and no real emotional scars. Similar to the game of Life but with some properties of Monopoly, the players will go through their dating life and compete to get out ahead, and alive, at the end. Because dating is always a roll of the dice, players will roll the dice to see where they land on the board and have to do the appropriate action. You may land on "You chose to be a rebound girl" and go back 5 spaces. Or, you may land on "When he started getting mysterious texts late at night (not from you) you cut him loose right away" and you gain $10 in emotional stability currency. There will be challenge cards where you must be forced to pick the correct answer, challenging your ability to react to dating dilemmas, which if you answer incorrectly you could lose all your precious emotional stability currency you've acquired. Because you see ladies and gents- one wrong turn in the dating world and you can lose any and all sensibility you've built up for, say, the last 15 years. It's a slippery slope.

Look for it at your local Target in 2012.

Jessica Simpson Goes Natural. It'll Only Cost You $400 To Do It Too.

2010-04-27T20:26:00.002-05:00

In the May issue of Marie Claire Jessica Simpson "makes a point" by going au natural on the front cover. Amidst an industry focused on airbrushing to the max, it's supposed to be a groundbreaking and refreshing take on real beauty. I actually think she looks way better. But I don't mind heavy photoshop work in magazines either- I like pretty people and things. It's art.

However, the part that makes me chuckle, in the inside cover under "Win Jessica's Cover Look" you win beauty products worth more than $440.

So, you're telling me I can be a "real" beauty for only $440? Think I'll spring for photoshop. Sounds cheaper.

Do Successful People Come From Only Poverty or Prosperity?

2010-04-24T07:50:00.002-05:00

I've been traveling for work lately and therefore have had quite a bit of time to think and compare myself to others. Naturally I started to wonder why I'm not more successful. By this age I should be successful, right? Not sure what "success" actually entails, but I'm pretty sure where I am is not getting me any membership offers. Probably need to make at least double the money I'm making now to even be an intern in the success club. And because I like to attack problems from every possible angle, I decided that my success hindering began in a condition I had no control over: middle class.

Doesn't it seem like everyone who is really successful either came from nothing or everything? It's the guy who shared bath water with his six sisters or the girl from Laguna Beach who was born in a Prada onesie that become successful. It's not really the girl who grew up in a pretty comfortable middle-class, normal suburb, did well in school, went to slightly above average colleges but not Ivy League who ends up right exactly where she began...the middle class. She's successful by not becoming a meth addict, grossly overweight, or wearing Arden B way beyond an appropriate age. But she's no Carrie Bradshaw. I did successfully just generalize and whittle it back down to myself...

On to discovering how to beat the middle class ceiling.

Traits of An Irresistible Man. Supposedly.

2010-04-06T19:46:00.002-05:00

I was so happy to see MSN's new glo.msn.com featured an article today on the traits of an irresistible man, because I really need help figuring out how to find a man that's irresistible. As of now I find most of the ones I meet entirely resistible. Which is a problem if I want a romantic life.

According to the article...

#1. A Manly Scent. Hmmm. Wouldn't any man have a "manly" scent, being a man and all? Not sure this one will help me.

#2. Ample Displays of Affection. Somewhat agreeable, but with limits. Groping me in public- not irresistible. Showing affection to every woman, not irresistible.

#3. A Sexy Wink. Really? Is there such a thing? If a man winks at me, he's cheesy, not sexy.

#4. Good Grooming. I'm going to say that good grooming is a prerequisite. Not a bonus.

#5. A Calming Vibe. Agreed! I can't believe I'm agreeing with msn.com writers! A cool, calm and collected man is pretty sexy. And if he can stay that way beyond the first date, score.

#6. A Sense of Style. Um. This can go overboard. Too much of his own sense of style and you could be drowning in Ed Hardy tee-shirts and looking at Spencer Pratt.

#7. A Great Sense of Humor. Of course. Again, kinda necessary.

And, that's it. Huh. Not unlocking any major secrets there.

If you need to learn more, read the article here.

Please Stop Making Me Feel Like I Need To Tan

2010-04-02T08:00:00.002-05:00

Why is everyone so tan?

Where I live, the sun hasn't been out and strong enough to alter the chemistry of skin (besides having it freeze) in 7 months. But everywhere I go people are not even tan, but Super Tan. Unless there was a group month long trip to Ibiza that I missed out on, I'm guessing this is the result of tanning beds. And I'd like to ask the general public to stop this behavior, as it's making me feel bad about myself.

I am guilty of self-tanner/bronzer use. But I'm starting to feel like I use it because I want to be a part of this totally new self-induced race running around. What are the genetic tendencies of the Fake-N-Bake race? Health Clubs, bars, and Starbucks- all places I frequent! So when I'm working my triceps in desperate attempt to never suffer from under arm wings, I'm forced to look at the fourteen other people in the mirror who glow and glisten with a sparkly bronze. I tend to glow in a translucent white shade. And frankly, it's making me feel a little bad about my appearance. If ya'll could wait until June to be tan (from the natural sun, like the earth intended) I would be extremely grateful. I really don't want to spend $80 a month on something nature could give me, nor up my anti-wrinkle cream usage to fight the side effects. Just because those people on the Jersey Shore are Super Tan doesn't mean they are role models for the rest of us. On that note, the rest of their behavior doesn't seem like anything you'd want to go after either...

Luck Should Be Given Out Evenly

2010-03-30T20:35:00.003-05:00

Do you ever feel like some people have all the luck? I'm not sitting in a corner saying "woe is me" or anything, but I kinda feel like luck should be dished out a little more evenly. Or at least given to those who deserve it. But it seems like people hoarding all the luck steer on the side of not really being worthy of it all. And you know they know it! They walk around with a twinkle in their smile that says, "I am totally the luckiest bastard in the world and I'm gonna run for it!" It all makes me extremely suspicious that karma or fate or any of those excuses we use to explain life actually deserve any merit at all. And I'm not talking about any of that crap like, "I'm lucky to be alive" and "I'm lucky to have family"- we're talking about REAL luck here. Like people who fall into jobs that they never should have had, people who have these lifestyles of ease and breeze that did nothing but stumble upon luck to get it, and super models who were born perfect (a Victoria's Secret commercial just came on) and therefore have power over the world.

Uh, maybe I should just be happy I'm not Sandra Bullock.

Is It Possible To Be Chemically Dependent on a Human?

2010-03-29T20:11:00.004-05:00

I think I might have a chemical dependency on another human. And I've been looking for treatment options, but there doesn't seem to be any. No health insurance coverage for this addiction.

You might be thinking to yourself: This chick is crazy. How can she be chemically addicted to a human? But I'm telling you, the chemical makeup of me gets high on the chemical makeup of another. This person is my crack cocaine. No matter how much I try to resist temptation, the high is so great that I risk the lowest of lows for a little taste of the candy. Defying all logic it's like a magnetic force pulling me in and I have zero power to stop it.

It's terrible. I need hypnosis or rehab or something.

Early Onset Alzheimer's?

2010-03-25T20:38:00.004-05:00

Yesterday I ran one of my normal 4 mile routes. I've been running said route for a solid 1.5 years. However yesterday, I got lost getting home.

Suddenly I looked around and thought to myself, "Huh, this doesn't look familiar." I was so turned around that I actually had to use my iphone maps to get me home.

This is concerning to say the least. This proves my ability to become completely focused on thought alone...but is no excuse for actually getting lost a mile away from my home. I do not know what this says about myself.

Is It Unhealthy to Want a Relationship Seen On TV?

2010-03-23T21:50:00.002-05:00

I need to admit an unhealthy love for something not real. It's called "Friday Night Lights", it's a television show, and I am in love with it. In particular, I am modeling my hopeful life partner off of a relationship seen on television.

I feel I must defend myself by illuminating you all with the knowledge that I've never really been a "tv" person. True, I went to film school, but I really didn't watch television or listen to music until my mid-twenties. Even so, I very recently bought my first ever television (I've had tv hand-me-downs, don't worry, I'm not a total freak). I like tv, just haven't really found the time to get involved on a regular basis. I actually want to be more of a tv person (hence the recent purchase) not only because it's pretty essential for my career, but because it really is a good form of escape. Therapy in a cheaper manner.

Regardless, my brother turned me on a month ago to this show "Friday Night Lights" and he insisted I'd really like it because it was well made, good writing, fine actors, etc. I blew it off, because it looked to me like something my mom would watch while crocheting on an actual Friday night (bless her soul). Basically one step away from a Lifetime made-for-tv movie. Yet, I obliged and got Season 1, Disk 1 on Netflix. And that was the beginning of my love affair. I LOVE that show. I love the people, I love their lives, and I love their relationships. My main infatuation is with Coach Taylor and his wife. I want their relationship. They are so in love but have real life problems! They fight, but they apologize and they say what they feel and in the end they always end up getting each other. Or, they don't get each other and it's ok. Mrs. Taylor can actually speak her mind and will yell at her husband and stick up for herself and in the end he admits wrong doing, she admits her wrong doing, and they are there for each other and partners and you can just tell they're meant to be together. Ah. It's so frickn' perfect. It's perfect but it's not perfect which in my mind makes it perfect. And that is what I want.

So, um, is this unhealthy? That I finally know what I'm looking for in a man and life partner and it's modeled off of a fictional couple based on a football centric town in Dillon, TX and returns to television (thank God as I am now caught up and through all 3 seasons) in April?

Don't Call Me That or Do That (at Work)

2010-03-22T16:54:00.003-05:00

I'm no feminist (I believe gender roles can be useful in keeping life organized) but there are things that really bother me as a female in the workplace:

1. Don't touch me. EVER. Not on the back, not on the arm, and most certainly not on the neck.

2. I am not a secretary nor an assistant. Don't call me an assistant because I'm a female in an office and you're unsure of my title. Just because Mad Men represents the creative agency world doesn't mean that's how the industry still works.

3. Don't assume I don't know what you're talking about. Because I do. And if I don't, it's because I'm bored and simply don't care.

What's With the Young Guys?

2010-03-14T21:32:00.003-05:00

I just had to come back to this blog. After a break to try and collect myself and become an adult, I couldn't resist sharing the ridiculousness of my life. It's just too damn ridiculous.

So, what's with the young guys lately? I generally date 5+ years above my age. But lately the younglings have been hitting on me without abandon. Like, 23 year olds. They are so young that I call them "cute" and I kinda want to pat their heads. And they try, they really try with earnest, to hit on me or whatever it's called, and I find it adorable. Isn't that amazing? Take that adorable kid and put 15 years on him and he's insta sleaze. Last weekend I found one young fawn's quest at my attention particularly confusing. Lanky, slightly urban-geek, wearing a cardigan and v-neck t-shirt. Obviously I assumed he was gay. A v-neck? But as we bantered and he what I thought was faux hit on me he became increasingly hurt by my playful tease. Suddenly he turned honest and said to me, "You know, I really like you and you're hurting my feelings right now." Yes, he really said that. Needless to say my friend and I bolted to the door as soon as he left for the bathroom.

So, I'm not complaining. Of course it's nice to get hit on. But okay now- can't I have someone in my target demographic come around?

The The Horrible Rotten No Good Very Bad Terrible Twenties.

2010-01-17T21:39:00.004-06:00

Goodbye Terrible Twenties, Hello Terrible Whatever Comes Next

2009-12-27T20:49:00.003-06:00

I obviously had no clue what I was doing when I started this blog. I think this is pretty clear.

For the most part I couldn't believe nor conceive the ludicrousness making up my twenties. So callow I had been to think after college life would unfold neatly into a pretty little row of experiences making up adulthood. As if college were a right of passage into a saner life- because truthfully- I never had a simple life. I've been running this never ending obstacle course through a circus freak show the whole way through. Sob story, I know. And if I can remember correctly my motivation for beginning this blog was in thinking I could not possibly be the only person out there believing much of this is just plain ridiculous (one of my grossly overused descriptors). And I'm a written word loud mouth with tons of use(less)ful opinions.

Personally I can use this blog as a historical reference. Not so easy to forget things when you have it conveniently recorded in the infinite Internet. Some of my posts even living infamously in my real life- the resulting danger of having anyone who knows you read your freely expressed thoughts. My attempt was to keep things in humor 90% of the time as this is all meant to be laughable, despite the times I couldn't manage a chuckle. Those instances flopped self-indulgently like the sitcom that tried to become a drama.. But believe me- there was an edit function. Tons of posts not published of things I really wanted to say but logic told me were not appropriate for my audience. Particularly the part of the audience who lives in my life with me. Blogs are dangerously easy tools to point out the truth of the matter, as when you write something down it becomes so vividly honest.

Although it certainly doesn't appear I had any semblance of rules or formality or reason to anything I've done here, I did promise myself something when I began. A tiny set of criteria. And I told myself that once one of these criteria became true- it would be time to end the blog about my horrible rotten no good very bad terrible twenties. I'm not generally one to follow the rules, but in this instance, I must oblige. Time to wrap it up. Wish I could tell you it was because suddenly I found my Oz of perfection in life, love and happenstance. That I was putting a bow on my packaged up terrible twenties and shipping it via Fedex to the past. Nope. Not happening. I'm pretty much still a disaster.

What have I learned though? I must have learned something through all this analysis! All this time spent blogging. I would say I learned 3 Things:

1) I hate other peoples lists. Lame f'ing Top Ten lists make me want to staple my hand. Yet I continually write my own stupid lists. I'm a total hypocrite.

2) MSN relationship and love advice defies all logic and intelligent thought. If I try to think of the stupidest, most least true solution to love it would be on par with the articles on MSN.

3) I no longer try and make sense of other people's love lives nor my own. We are all totally and uniquely crazy. There are no rules to this. Trying to fit into other people's rules is what ruins everything.

Good news is I've morphed into something else. I loathe to be cheesy, but it's as if I shed a skin and evolved into the next version of me. Ready to endure whatever mess my 30's brings me but with my battle scars reminding me the scrappy fights I fought. Ready to do something. Time to compile all this into a book and make a run for it. Time to start a new blog (because I can't just shut-up completely) Girl Twentiesh doesn't have the voice for. But this rather quirky and undefinable girl in this horrible rotten thing we call life is off to explore and learn more and screw up hopefully less. With many many dirty martinis of course.

Thanks for riding along...

I Don't Think I Like Bloggers

2009-12-26T10:57:00.002-06:00

Watched the movie "Julia & Julia" and now I don't like bloggers. She was so egocentric. So self-involved. Yet, similar to me in the fact that she had attention deficit disorder in life projects. Every time she started something, rarely she'd finish. Then, I started to do the "next blog" tab and saw an alarming amount of blogs written by dark haired females for the sole purpose of showcasing their perfect family of five's day-to-day adventures. Those blogs laughed at me. I almost lost the contents of my stomach when I saw one woman's blog and her "100 Reasons I Love Myself" list. She actually listed 100! Suddenly I hate every list I've ever written.

A Moment to Recognize Chronic Cancelers

2009-12-23T18:19:00.002-06:00

I would like to take a nice little holiday moment to recognize those whom are Chronic Cancelers.

While it's very convenient for you to book as much as you can in case there is the 2% chance you may actually follow through with your plans, it may shock you to know that this method is not as convenient for those you made plans with. Yes, this is correct, other people might be adversely affected by your actions. You see, on the other side is a person who also has a life! And when you cancel, that leaves them with their own scheduling conflicts to face. That time making up your life? All the creatures of the earth have that. Cancel once and awhile- totally understandable. But when the pattern becomes predictable you become someone who sucks just a little more than you did the last time.

(This is on behalf of all of those disturbed by chronic cancelers, sponsored by people who care).

*Note: I personally get over chronic cancelers after the 3rd offense. Then I just agree to plans but make my own back-up plans based on trending statistics.

Genius Quote of the Day

2009-12-21T23:50:00.002-06:00

Comedian Whitney Cummings says via her Twitter account:

"Girls giving each other hi-fives makes me really uncomfortable."

I couldn't agree more Whitney.

The Life of a Really Cool Working Girl

2009-12-16T20:24:00.003-06:00

30 minute commute (not too bad).

8 hours of work (no break).

60 minute workout (wow do I need a tan).

30 minute commute home.

Construction worker cleaning his work bucket in my shower. Is this standard?

Wine.

2 more hours of work while Top Chef reunion plays out of focus background to my computer.

Wine.

Contemplate finishing work, or waking up early? Blog about nothing really important.

Wow. This is what the life of a super cool working girl looks like.

Something to Ponder as You Navigate Relationships

2009-12-14T19:31:00.002-06:00

Why is it that relationships feel like such a navigation? No compass to help out you find yourself lost over and over again from wrong turns, miscalculations, booby traps, poor communication and bad directions. Who am I kidding? We're lazy- most of us want a straight up GPS to tell us where it go. Maybe that's why we give up so easily.

Something I heard awhile back, and I can't for the life of me remember where to give proper props to the author of the thought, but that "to know somebody they have to know you back". I can't stop thinking about this. On one hand, it speaks to offering up the correct parts of you to really let someone know you. Not giving the true sense of you won't ever open the true sense of another. It also speaks to a reason to turn back and go another way from a relationship. If that person can't seem to get you no matter how hard you try to explain yourself, you'll never see clearly how to get them. Might be best to change navigation paths.

That's a lot of complex thinking for a Monday night. Clearly I think too much.

A Simple Life

2009-12-14T10:31:00.001-06:00

Monday morning has me wondering- can't I just have a simple life? If somebody can fill me in on how to achieve this, I'm all ears.

Yeah...That's Not Working Out For You

2009-12-12T12:04:00.003-06:00

Tiny tip....

While trying to pick up a lady, revealing in the most self-pitying manner that you hate your job (that you've been doing 6 years), are depressingly poor, a pessimist, your ankle hurts because you twisted it doing laundry, like to smoke lots of illegal things often and then asking her to make-out is not going to work for you. Time for a new strategy.

Need Help Identifying Big Lies?

2009-12-11T14:10:00.002-06:00

In case you are in need of assistance in deciphering and identifying when a big fat lie is coming your way, here is a list of common indicators to help you:

Any statement that begins with, "I really want to, but..."(if they really wanted to, they would)
Claim that "it's natural" (generally used to hide the fact that is not, in fact, natural in act or appearance)
Anti-puff anything (anything claiming to de-puff you is a gross over exaggeration and blatant false advertising)
"I've never done this before" (yes, they have, although I have said this and meant it but I commonly do things I've never done before and then learn to never do them again)
"You look nice today" (commonly used as an empty buffer before asking for or demanding something)

Stopped in My Research Tracks by Frivolity

2009-12-07T23:09:00.006-06:00

Earnestly skimming the Internet for ideas and springboards of societal pieces to wax poetic into my eventually finished book about this whole mess of a life of mine, I was stopped in my literary tracks by an obnoxiously beautiful piece of art. Trend jewelry. Of all things. Which, if you saw my jewelry box you'd see half pairs of earrings and pieces my mother left to me.

I don't qualify as a jewelry person. I like it, but am far to choosy to let art haphazardly adorn my bones. But this, oh this, calls to me. This piece beckons my right ring finger with relentless whispers. What does this say about me that my soul ring match is a black onyx?

If you'd like to purchase it for me, David Yurman has it waiting for you (size 5.5 please)

Random Impressive Acts

2009-12-06T19:11:00.003-06:00

This past weekend I found myself struck by random acts of impressiveness. The following list summarizes the instances moving my mind the last few days:

1. My friend's ability to small talk with anyone. Staggeringly talented at talking about nothing and everything with all walks of life. At times they look slightly offended, but they're too confused to really understand why.

2. My ability to fume. I was so angry I sat in my jacket at my table for over two hours just fuming. Without moving to my knowledge. Things got dark.

3. The man with a small child on his shoulders who made eye contact with me as he left the restaurant to then come back in, boldly put his card in front of me, and say simply with a smile, "If you'd ever like to go out with me, give me a call." Impressively confident. I of course was wildly embarrassed and I believe just stupidly gazed back in surprise while stammering "thank you" or something equally less impressive.

4. While we're on the subject of men, the French man at the art show who managed to have me fall in love with him after 2 minutes of talking. Never mind his probable wife standing next to him. He smiled at me like he loved me back, and that's the story I'm sticking with in my mind.

5. University of Texas Longhorns' ability to pull off a win in a serious bind. That's my boys.

6. The amount of Swedish Fish I can consume without getting sick of them. They're like crack to me.

7. People who watch the show Dexter. I watched approximately 4 minutes of the first episode and was convinced someone was going to murder me and I turned it off.

And there you have it. Being impressed 7 times in 48 hours is impressive in itself.

I Remember When Friday Used to Mean Something

2009-12-04T13:50:00.002-06:00

Remember when Friday used to be a big deal? It meant a break from whatever? Actually I don't think a Friday has really held significant weight in emotional and mental release since high school. Now Friday means I still have work over the weekend, only people are less accessible and I am not necessarily needing to respond immediately. Other than that, it's not like it all disappears over the weekend. It's not like I go into some alternate reality of only fun and games. In fact, if I break completely from it for two days of leisure, I'm often met with a hurricane of stress come Monday morning.

Good news is nobody knows if I'm drunk while working on the weekends...

So Another Man Cheats on His Wife. Big Deal.

2009-12-02T20:46:00.003-06:00

So Tiger Woods cheated on his wife. And the news is what exactly? Am I supposed to be shocked by this? People. When will we accept the biological facts? Men, all men, would love to sleep with as many women as physically possible. This is who they are! Accept it. If I had hot men (which hot to me is unfortunately more complicated than toned bodies and sexy bedroom eyes) I might be hooking up around the world too. I just wouldn't promise with all my heart to a partner that I would stay sexually loyal. Take a man with infinite talent and success rolling around in billions of dollars and you're going to see a man who will be taking advantage of the cocktail waitresses of the world offering themselves up. The foolishness lies in Tiger thinking it wouldn't come out to the media. Now that's the news story. How naive is that? Nobody is safe these days with endless means of social communication- especially not a super celeb.

Now excuse me while I do something more important than discussing celebrity affairs- drink some wine and watch the Top Chef season finale.

What's Better? Hot, Pretty, or Cute?

2009-12-01T21:32:00.002-06:00

A couple weeks ago I was involved in a very deep, mind boggling, intense conversation mulling over the following:

Is it better to be hot, pretty, or cute?

You can probably imagine the surroundings for such a philosophical debate- a bar, Wednesday night, 4 to 2 ratio of men vs women, and possibly a round of shots had been consumed. Let me tell you flat out, it's definitely nice to be called any of the above. A friend of mine told a gentlemen once that I thought he was "adequate looking" which when verbalized in no way sounds complimentary. I believe his mouth opened in shock.

But seriously.

If you're called hot, as a woman, doesn't that sound kinda like someone is saying you're good enough to sleep with, but that's just about it? I don't know. I'm pretty sure I can't qualify for that description based on my less than flashy dressing habits, crazy hair, and inability to keep makeup on my face- thus maybe I'm biased. So, I guess if I had to choose a way to be thought of/complimented by the public, "hot" wouldn't be it. Probably not by choice. I mean really. It doesn't make sense to not want to be called hot.

Then there's pretty. That sounds nice. But that's the problem- it just sounds nice. Daisies are pretty. Sunsets are pretty. Stationary is pretty. One of those dudes from Twilight is pretty. Has pretty become a mediocre statement? If by being called "pretty" are you merely "fine" or "pleasant" and the common compliment subject? Maybe if you put pretty in front of hot and called someone "pretty hot" you'd be on to something! Take hot down a notch with a little innocence. Hmm....

And of course cute. The problem with cute is if you get called cute as a standard, you're never taken seriously. You're always the cute one. Like the guy who is always the friend. Cute implies you lack sexuality. But cute can be great when used to describe an action- like, "Girl Twentiesh is so cute when she hangs up the phone, slams it twice, and says f-u to it." Saying an action causes cuteness is a great compliment because it implies behavior leads to attract ability. Therefore in the correct context, cute is good.

So the ultimate best? To be "pretty hot who looks/is so cute when..."

This was all decided until one of the men said honestly, "When I really am in to a girl, I think she's beautiful." Moan. That's a tough standard to ever hit. But- case was quickly settled by all- being called beautiful is definitely the best.

Sucker for The Season (Cramping My Style)

2009-11-30T21:21:00.003-06:00

I find myself falling into the holiday trap. Sentiment for no good reason wrapping me up like a tangled mess of Christmas lights. Tendency to listen to holiday music. Determined to bake all of my mother's classic cookie recipes no matter how many Sunday afternoons I must spend with the mess of flour. Wishing for snow even though it means scraping my car and hours added on to the commute. A warm, loving glow wanting to hug everyone up around me (well, only the people I actually love, I'm not a hugs-for-all type of girl). Sucked into romance. The urge to watch "The Holiday" and "Love Actually"- which summed up all together this has a dangerous impact on my sarcastic nature. How can one be sarcastic when listening to "Dreaming of a White Christmas" and thinking about fires and tradition and the Christmas Eve an ex bought my dad a case of wine and I got so plastered I passed out on the bathroom floor where no one could find me?

Oh wait, that brings it back down to earth for me. Whew, thank goodness I'm still in here somewhere.

Me. Version 2.0

2009-11-29T16:03:00.002-06:00

I have a distinct and clear understanding of a personal metamorphosis. I half expect to look in the mirror in the morning and see an extra appendage or new face or something (hopefully not Kafka's vermin). An odd day-to-day feeling most definitely. Never before can I remember being so in the moment of understanding. Most of the time I'm too in awe of what the hell is going on around me to be self aware. Who has time to notice themselves when there are Tiger Woods fire hydrant accidents and John Mayer's dating life and that guy at the club with ridiculous triceps and Black Box wine? Much too much to notice. In theory of self actualization as we age we look back and see in retrospect points of change, evolution, maturity. Hopefully learn from bad fashion mistakes. Hopefully growth in relationships. Hopefully the ability to understand where you've gone wrong. But I feel it all today. And I've been feeling it in the moment for awhile. As if I've shed a skin or something and am exposing the new stuff to the elements of life. I don't know what this means, besides it's very different. Could this be a one third life crisis? I have been thinking about getting a dog....if I start buying plants somebody should intervene.

Figuring it Out

2009-11-27T10:40:00.000-06:00

What Do Your Texts Say About You?

2009-11-23T21:44:00.002-06:00

I wish I didn't have to bring this up. No secret to readers of this blog- I have a curious admiration/hate relationship with the text message. A wonderful tool when running late, struck with a funny story that must be shared immediately, or just a nice thought once and awhile. Pictures can be fun. A little gift of technology. Evil hand when abused. The accessibility is like a constant temptress to over-sharing, under-relying, and dehumanizing relationships. Everybody is at reach and on call at all times for better or for worse. Now if you happen to fall dead (excuse me for being blunt here) rather than worrying about people going through your papers...ever wonder what your text messages say about you? Could our living legacy be left to a train of text message conversations?

If a stranger were to read your chain of texts, what would they see? You think I'm going to tell you what mine say? Think again. Get your mind out of the gutter- mine are fine. I'm a good girl. As long as the phone is away from me during an Ambien episode I stick to the basics, sarcasm, and the occasional surprise. But other people- whoa- I'm pretty sure there is some incriminating and eyebrow raising activity.

Certainly something to think about though, isn't it?

If I Were in Charge of the World

2009-11-22T10:02:00.002-06:00

At some point in my early educational years I was given the assignment to write a poem titled "If I Were in Charge of the World". I had actually been highly anticipating this assignment for years- as my older sister crafted hers years ahead of me I couldn't wait until I got my assignment. Who doesn't want to be in charge of the world? I really felt akin to the idea.

When I finally got my chance to prove to the world the rules I could craft to make living much more enjoyable, I had things like "If I were in charge of the world, there'd be no fat grams, no puking, and everyone would feel loved." Ah, the things the mind of a pre-adolescent comes up with. Although I still agree to those basics. How great would it be if nobody puked? And if we didn't have to worry about fat grams? And of course, everyone should feel loved.

As an adult, I'd probably add a couple things. Like having success in life be part karma system- you can't be truly successful unless you do good things and are a good person. And everybody gets to pick one thing to be really talented at (I don't think it's fair that some people have all the talent). And that we all eventually figure it out before it's too late. And everybody everywhere gets 4 weeks vacation and 4 roundtrip tickets to anywhere (doesn't make any sense to have a giant world and no money or time to see it). And for every bad thing that happens to you the equivalent good thing happens to balance it all out. And boys are no longer stupid. And you get shocked if you use more than 3 exclamation points in one email (punctuation abuse is a crime).

Who Is In Charge Here?

2009-11-16T21:18:00.005-06:00

Rifling through old things yesterday I happened upon an old notebook from college. Never a diary keeper (way too dangerous to have all those real thoughts written somewhere) I had the habit of an idea notebook. The non-assuming Apple logo cover made it look like some computer manual, but inside hid instantaneous thoughts I felt the need to record should they have the promise of an idea.

On one page I wrote simply:

I think I am disillusioned.

Yet under it, who knows how long the above thought held real estate, I wrote:

I realized I am not disillusioned. The disillusion is who is in charge of your life.

What did this mean anyway? Why was I thinking this? What had brought me so disenchanted, so down to earth in thought? But then it appears I was corrected. That something caused my eyes to open in understanding where charge of life came from- which- I've come to accept- is me. Scary, but true. The illusion is always other factors take hold of your life- your job, your lack of job, your boyfriend, your husband, your lack of either, the children, the dog, your parents, your debt, America, the weather, Katie Couric, the sales at Victoria Secret, the television show Lost. Whatever. We blame it all on controlling what essentially we only control.

Interesting how we forget these simple things. Time to step back and suck it up.

Lessons Learned Over A Weekend

2009-11-16T10:07:00.002-06:00

1) Different is good

2) Being wrong sometimes makes everything right

3) There are cheesy people everywhere. Thank goodness, as it gives us something to laugh at

4) I am stubborn

5) You know you're getting old when you wake up before 7am on a weekend

Dating Dealbreakers- That I Cause

2009-11-09T21:46:00.003-06:00

Because it's always good to think about both sides of the story, I began to think about dealbreakers I cause. What are the things that I do that cause a man to wave their hand and say, "Next please!"

A List of Things I Do to Break the Dating Deal

1) She does not maintain well manicured toes and fingernails. I don't. I don't get how people have time for this.

2) She's got an ugly competitive side in card games. I'm not proud of this. I think it's genetic. I get actual anxiety when someone is playing who doesn't understand how.

3) She makes me feel guilty for eating fast food. Sometimes I may not say anything, but you can always see it in my eyes.

4) Sometimes when she talks it doesn't make any sense.

5) She's horrible with direction. Men really can't stand this. I think it's a brain defect- I was premature.

6) She also knows nothing about basic car mechanics and refuses to learn. True.

7) It's like she remembers every little detail long-term but nothing short-term.

8) She isn't bubbly. Or the life of the party. I got a Bachelor of Science for heaven's sake- I'm supposed to be standing in the corner.

9) She won't use a dishwasher and leaves the room if I unload it- which is very weird. (I loathe the sound of filmy glass against skin)

10) She can't do anything straight- park, cut paper, hang a frame. I blame it on being ambidextrous. I'm in constant confusion.

11) She refuses to wear a sports jersey. Call me no fun, but it does not fit into my personal style guide.

12) She points out bad television or filmmaking while I watch it. I have gotten MUCH better at this- now I just remove myself from the situation. Don't make me watch it, as I can't hide my feelings.

And, and I think that's enough pointing out of my own flaws for one evening.

Dating Dealbreakers

2009-11-08T14:51:00.003-06:00

Recently on NBC's comedy "30 Rock" television show writer Liz Lemon publishes a book revolving around dealbreakers in dating. These are the behaviors that men or women exhibit essentially putting a halt to any continued involvement. A dealbreaker is that final stop sign in what could have led you down an extremely steep and rocky road. You throw up the red octagon and back away from the perpetrator (otherwise known as the man/woman you were seeing). An example in the show:

"If your man disappears and then shows up after 7 months of no contact....That's a dealbreaker ladies!"

Pretty obvious standard. Got me to thinking...what are my personal dealbreakers? I should be able to collect some from, oh, the last 15 years of my life (had my first steady boyfriend for the 4th-7th grade). I'm not going to suggest all of these are necessarily fair for the entire dating public, but as Socrates suggests- know thyself. And I know my dating self pretty darn well by now.

An Incomplete List of Dating Dealbreakers (continually evolving with experience)

1) Threatens to leave me because of my hair (5th grade, true story)

2) Suggests a threesome with one of my friends

3) Wears more jewelry than I, and/or any of it is 18k gold or from a trip to Cancun

4) Spends more hours per day on television, non-work related Internet, or video games than on any other activity

5) Eats like a slob. Can't handle it.

6) My 5 year old niece has greater spelling and sentence structure capabilities

7) Isn't nice to the elderly

8) Suspiciously elevated levels of aggression/jealousy/anger

9) Thinks women have life too easy

10) Text messaging is his primary form of relationship contact

11) Quotes movie lines for the majority of his thoughts

12) Shows zero signs of ever reading a book

13) Uses bathroom humor around me

14) His life plan/goal is to win the lottery

15) Has never loved anyone

16) Doesn't have a car (unless he lives in NYC or Paris, sorry, dealbreaker)

17) Intoxicated more often than sober

18) Absence of common courtesies

19) He does something my mom wouldn't forgive

20) Isn't sure if he has children or not

Wow, that's a really good start!

If You Continually Make the Girl Next to You Leave..You're Doing Something Wrong

2009-11-05T20:19:00.002-06:00

Last night while at happy hour I endured an all too typical scene. Myself and my fair-eyed beauty friend sat on our favorite bar stools enjoying rewarding cocktails and deep conversation. Well, some fluffy conversation as well. We're sociable girls. Open to public engagement and talking with strangers. We are not by any means the girls shooting daggers to anyone looking at them or attempting innocent converse. We're also not the girls begging for attention with hair flips or what have you. I'm in public because I want to be. I want the experience of my surroundings, whatever they may bring.

However, there are boundaries.

As I chatted innocently with some gentlemen beside me on similar business matters, my poor friend was left to fend for herself on what appeared to be an uncomfortable and forced conversation. I eventually noticed she was desperately trying to part with her conversation. I did all the telltale signs a friend does to bail another out of this situation.

Step 1: In a clear and pointed voice to all around, "Well, we should go. Let's get the bill."

Step 2: Getting the bill quickly and attempting to leave our seats as he continued to talk to her.

Step 3: Leaving the bar as he tried to talk her into staying.

Giant clues here. If you actually make a woman/man leave the bar because you overwhelmed them with uncomfortable or unwanted communication- you're doing something wrong. Even more giant clue is if it happens to you more than once in an evening. And eyewitnesses have assured me this particular fella I speak about continued his detrimental pattern throughout the night.

Social cues are so useful. Can't we just all get along and drink in a bar in harmony?

If You Want to Know the Truth- Say it Out Loud

2009-11-05T07:25:00.002-06:00

Sometimes it just takes saying it out loud to see the facts.

Those instances you mull over in your head, deciphering with your own filters of excuse to try and reach a conclusion of why or how- guess what? If you take out any excuse words, face a friend, and actually let the 5-8 word sentence of pure fact vocalize out of your mouth you'll be amazed at the simple truth you arrive at. It's scary. But as I discovered last night, effective. Saying it out loud quite clearly defines the truth. Like it or not.

The Unabashed Hope I Imagine in Couples Walking

2009-11-03T19:34:00.004-06:00

Along the path of my 4 mile runs I encounter multiple sets of couples walking the trail. So interesting, these couples. In the brief moment I have to mentally snapshot their interactions, their facial expressions and their behavior, I draw my own conclusions of their fate. Most often my conclusions fall in the hopeful, "Diamonds are Forever" commercial type spirit.

In these couples walking I imagine that surely he tells her "goodnight" every night. That she gladly makes him breakfast on-the-go each morning- not because she has to- but because she wants to. This couple walking ahead have unspoken mutual respect, a bond tied by passion and truly taking the time to know one another through the passage of time. They would never hurt one another, they will always challenge the other to grow and prosper, and as they wake up to face another day they each understand the blessing in he/she who lays across the bed. What a beautiful life this couple has! And they have taken it upon themselves to proclaim their perfect life together by walking together as I run solo past them.

Of course this is mostly hope.

Hope that the strangers surrounding me have what I imagine to be perfect. But in my perfectly imaginative stories of couples who walk together, I am able to hope that such a thing even exists. As I never will be one to walk along a path - I always run- walking is so dull. But perhaps I someday will be one half of the couple running who has all that I think that can be.

Doesn't Anyone See How Weird Celebrity Perfume Is?

2009-11-02T18:50:00.002-06:00

Somebody needs to speak out on this issue. My heart broke when a seemingly credible actress, Reese Witherspoon, was recently spotted with her own perfume ad in one of my beloved magazines. I do not understand the allure of celebrity endorsed perfume!

What a celebrity endorsed perfume says to me is:

1) With this perfume I'm trying to convince you that you will have a life like mine (the celebrity)

2) This is how I, the celebrity, smell and now you can smell like me

And why would I want to smell like another person? Why do I want to look at Beyonce, wonder what she smells like, and purchase her bottled up bath water? I want to smell like a beachy sunrise or a rose petal or crushed vanilla bean- not a human being!

This is so utterly disturbing to me.

I Don't Even Believe Compliments. That's an Issue.

2009-11-01T18:34:00.002-06:00

Being complimented is like having a golden halo beam down on you while angels sing. Who doesn't love to be complimented? It feels absolutely fantastic. I think. I don't know, because I'm having a hard time believing them. It's like a softball hitting my glove and bouncing into a puddle. I've built up an immunity to compliment receiving.

The problem is I don't believe 'em unless they come from my toddler niece and nephews. Lately I've been lucky enough to have a real adult throw around some pretty heavy compliments and I can only laugh as if it's a joke in irony. Therefore not only am I not getting the compliment high, I'm awkwardly unable to respond in an appropriate manner. Instead I'm looking around for the hidden camera, for Ashton Kutcher to jump out of the bushes announcing, "You've been punked! No way are those compliments real!" And then the viewers at home laugh with Coke Zero shooting out of their noses for the humor in the girl who believed the compliments. As if!

Is this a product of age? How did I become compliment jaded? Who can I blame for this?

Dear October 2009: You Have 4 Days To Redeem Yourself

2009-10-27T23:11:00.003-05:00

Oct 2009 has not been my month. Paradoxically it has been my month in some ways. Let me explain...

Well, there isn't much to explain.

October 2009 will forever go down as October Evil 09' in the history of my life. Look for t-shirts at your local Hot Topic. This after that after this and I'm starting to believe October has something against me. After all, this month has sucked for me for the last 5 years, so I'm not being dramatic here (I will spare you the rundown of how each individual October has pitched me with a devil fork). I think next October I'll take a month vacation in attempt to break the hex. Then I could at least blame Amsterdam and loose laws.

The odd part is that some really cool, good, widely appealing things have also happened this month. Some fantastic things. Maybe these "things" seem much more wonderful when compared to the bad, but heck, I'll take it. I'm living a teeter-totter of bad versus good experiences and I can't decide which is winning. I am determined to make these last lingering days count.

For humor and reflection, I'll list some sound bites/impressions/commentaries directed my way this month which still hang in my mind:

1. You are the galaxy's trashcan

2. I've been sick and I blame you (from the janitor cleaning my office)

3. Um yeah, I think you could use some highlights

4. You sound pathetic

5. If you die, don't sue me (which would be hard considering I'd be dead)

I'd Love to Blog But...

2009-10-23T14:25:00.002-05:00

For the ultimate in excuse list building,

I've been enjoying:

1. The H1N1. Super fun. Sexy too. People stare be down in public like they're going to stake me.

2. Endless work in real life

3. Unexpected family emergencies

4. Traffic

5. Wine and vodka withdrawal

A Rear View Mirror for My Personal Blind spot?

2009-10-20T08:34:00.003-05:00

How does one get rid of their personal blind spot? The things that everybody else sees but you don't? With driving it's easy. If you miscalculate something in your blind spot, well, often you hit it. Hopefully you can avoid collision by a passenger warning you or dutiful checking of all mirrors from all angles. There are tried and true ways of getting around the driving blind spot- because we all know it's there.

In life though, it's not as easy. Something may be happening to you that you are completely blind to. Everyone else can see it- they may even try to tell you- but there's no handy mirror to shine the truth in your face. They could be screaming in your face, warning you of the danger, and still you are incapable of seeing what they see. And in many cases, you have no chance to see it until CRASH you've been hit. Damage done. Insurance premiums up. Rehabilitation time helps, acting as the hands putting together the puzzle of truth. But again, this happens in recovery. I'm looking for preventative measures. A personal rear view mirror alerting me to sneaky dangers I best swerve away from.

Just a thought.

Thanks H1N1 for Ruining My Weekend

2009-10-19T07:43:00.001-05:00

2 boxes of Sudafed and 3 bags of throat lozenges later, I believe I'm ready to admit this may not be a cold. This "thing" has really put a damper on my life. As in making me unable to do anything. 5 days of unproductive weakness wishing I could just go into a coma until it's all over. How about that modern medicine? Why not a temporary coma shot when the flu attacks us? That, would be useful.

Facebook is Meaner Than High School

2009-10-15T12:44:00.002-05:00

Have you ever thought about how mean Facebook is? It's the ultimate clique! When people send me a friend request and I question 1) Who are they? 2) Why do they want to be my friend?-I'm enveloped by a huge sense of guilt if I don't accept their friendship. It's easier to just avoid someone in person without the big denial of "ignore this friend request." Maybe they won't notice, but then again, maybe they have a voodoo doll of me to punish my denial. I do have a pretty bad earache and fever today...suspect....very suspect. H1N1? Nope, Facebook retaliation.

Then there is the whole relationship status issue. This just goes way too far. Nobody needs to know if I'm in a relationship, single, dating three people, a hermit, a polygamist, etc. And nobody needs to know how often this changes. If you are in a committed relationship and don't "declare" on Facebook, then your significant other thinks you're hiding something! It's a lose lose situation. But when it doesn't work out because he started an emotional affair with one of your other Facebook friends via your wall- your whole network gets to witness you breaking up.

Of course there is the option of not using Facebook at all. Why complain about something I can change? But not using Facebook is like not having a phone. Society will shun me and I'll no longer have any friends at all. I just want everyone to get along, be nice, and not be personally humiliated. And, not be tagged in unflattering photos.

Single Girls Do Not Want to Steal Your Boyfriend

2009-10-13T08:43:00.002-05:00

It's come to my attention recently that single girls raise the security level up to red in mixed social situations. And I feel discriminated against.

Contrary to what you may believe, I have zero interest in stealing your boyfriend. Because of my single status, I do not believe I should be quarantined away from all males just so you can feel safe. I act no differently to friendly males when in or out of a relationship. In fact, I suck at flirting even with men I like, so my being within 30 ft of your boyfriend is not going to cause some sort of outbreak of crazy single girl hormones poisoning the men around her.

Another reason I'm not going to steal your boyfriend? He's your boyfriend. Used goods are not appealing. Nor is being the flavor of the day. Nor are weak men. There is not one attractive reason to burglarizing a boyfriend. I'll pay full in cash, thank you. And I don't buy fakes. Just because I am not in a Facebook announced committed relationship does not mean I don't have my own things going on anyway. Please. Being jealous over harmless, goofy girls is so 1998.

I Am Ok Today

2009-10-12T08:38:00.000-05:00

Sometimes it's an amazing moment to really realize that I'm okay. I really am. And yesterday I felt an epiphany on how very happy I am. Stresses and mishaps and disappointments can muddle everything up to convince me life is cloudy. Yet yesterday in the solitude of crisp air and a serene 4 mile run I realized how content I am. Life is not bad when the clouds clear. Not bad at all. Call it fall sentimentality, but I am very blessed to have a ridiculously large and loving family. Nephews and a niece that squeal with excitement to see me. Grandparents I completely admire. Friends who bring laughter and years of understanding me. Random sprinklings of people that come through to make life interesting. Red wine. Pretty good hair. And when I hear the news of an old high school friend dying tragically in a car crash...I can't help but cherish all that I have today. What I have is so much more than what I don't.

Today, I am ok.

When a Stranger Says Something and You Pretend You Don't Hear

2009-10-08T08:24:00.002-05:00

I'm a horrible person.

The other day after a rather harrowing trip to Target in search for classy but appropriate appetizer ideas and nice fall colored napkins for a small party, I was in no mood to talk. Kept changing my mind on the appetizers and the napkins looked like a first grader designed them. After more than an hour in that store, I walked out to find darkness, rain and cold. Of course I could only remember the general direction of my car, not the specific area. So I made my mad dash in hopes of miraculously landing in front of my car when a guy behind me exclaimed loudly,

"Wow! If it was any colder it'd be snowing!"

Was he talking to me? Because he said it like he was waiting for a response. Only clearly I did not look like a conversational person running beeline through a packed parking lot cursing that my car couldn't locate me rather than the other way around. There didn't seem to be anyone around me he could have been talking to. And he was kinda close behind me. I glanced in my peripheral and found no one to take the blame for the very awkward and heavy silence following his non-returned comment.

Alas, I found my car. As I opened the door I took a sneak peak at the stranger still quite close behind, and yup, sure enough he was talking to me. He huddled up in his coat and soaking beard and ignored me right back. And now I'm that mean person who is too self absorbed to take a moment to chat with a stranger.

But come on...talking about the weather? How cliche.

Couldn't Have Said it Better Myself

2009-10-07T08:36:00.002-05:00

I had to post this little bit of genius found in the New York Times yesterday.

Writer Benedict Carey, in the opening paragraph of his October 5th article "How Nonsense Sharpens the Intellect", wrote the following:

"In addition to assorted bad breaks and pleasant surprises, opportunities and insults, life serves up the occasional pink unicorn."

How fitting of a life descriptive! Isn't that what this living thing is all about? Bad breaks, surprises, happiness and doldrums- and those very odd moments that really make you wonder if living kind is one big joke. Or a TV show ala "The Truman Show" some other species watches to mock us and our ridiculousness.

And, if you read the rest of the article, I like the suggestion that my accumulation of oddities and unexplainables makes me smarter.

Link to New York Times Article

Signs You're Going Through a Breakup

2009-10-06T07:54:00.002-05:00

You know you're going through a breakup when....

1. You find yourself listening to Jordin Sparks "Love is a Battlefield" and imagining yourself as the main character in the music video. I'm getting my armor Jordin. I'm getting it.

2. You make fast friends with a 60 year old who is going through his second divorce. Kindred spirits.

3. You no longer eat meals, because you remember it was your ex who reminded you to eat.

4. You're making plans with the neighbor boys for "winter activities"- including sledding, shooting a music video, Balderdash, and bowling.

5. You'll probably actually read a book this weekend. Yup. Read a book this weekend. Paint a giant L on my forehead if you'd like, but I like reading and am standing up for it now.

6. You like work. Really like work. Because he was never at your work, so you can't miss him there.

Thank You Crazy Man At The Bar

2009-10-05T07:27:00.002-05:00

Dear Crazy Man At The Bar,

I want to thank you crazy man. While others may fear you, run away, scoff at your ludicrous stories- I, however, feel blessed by your presence. Yesterday when I took that bar stool at 4:30 in the afternoon , I could not know you would sit next to me. When you told stories and lied about everything you were (37 rich and retired from a "secret" job you weren't at liberty to reveal) it brought great joy to a day that brought me great pain. While you, crazy man, showed me your giant gold cross and explained your Italian Roman Catholic beliefs (although you appeared of middle eastern dissent) and I made fun of your lies straight to your face, you did not falter. And that, crazy man at the bar, was really funny. And when you showed me your hospital logo embroidered pull over as "evidence" of your secret medical job and I wondered if wearing Hudson jeans made the world think I was the designer, you barely even noticed my mocking. Crazy man, when you left to find good wholesome farm girls in St. Paul bars, please know that you made me laugh when I did not know I could laugh. You crazy man at the bar, you of all people, made me feel better when my heart was breaking. At a bar in the early cold evening of a Sunday.

Sincerely,

Girl Twentiesh

The First Step to Navigating the Bar Scene Single Again

2009-10-02T07:30:00.003-05:00

Very recently I've become 2-1 = me. Which to the greater society lends me the heavy label Girl Single. A silent tattoo for the world to judge. I can get into that another time. Religious readers may be confused. For now I'm focusing on my baby steps back into the world as a loner: the bar scene.

Uh.

I love to go out. But we all know what happens when you go out. Single or not- you're "in the scene" and out there for people to size you up. I prefer the warm and cozy protection of knowing I'm taken. How easy is it to turn someone down when the first thing you say is, "I have a boyfriend." But now I have to navigate alone, shield less. Of course I can come up with my own ammunition, like an old one I used to use, "I really hate small talk." But, unless I want to be single forever, I have to actually talk to people. I'm just so terribly bad at the entire game! And it doesn't help when the first guy to make his move strikes, surely I'll imagine my ex doing the exact same thing to some girl in another bar. Ouch (of course she won't be nearly as cute). I know some girls dream of going out at flirting with single guys- those girls are married. Flirting for one day is an experiment, flirting for 2 years is a chore.

But, tonight is the night. It can't be delayed much longer. As soon as I enter that bar I will be officially coming out as Girl Single. I may only last an hour. Or I may drink 4 glasses of wine in 20 minutes. One can only guess at my coping strategy. I will try to stay strong. Baby steps. This will take awhile to navigate again- and God knows- I'm horrible with directions.

In Case You're Wondering, MSN Solves Breakup Blues By Zodiac

2009-10-01T07:32:00.003-05:00

Thank goodness for MSN and their trusty relationship advice! While reading the often disappointing msn.com homepage this morning for something to catapult my day into production, I was so very relieved to find out that I can learn how to survive a breakup by my zodiac sign! So, not only can "What's your sign?" be the conduit into a relationship, but your pathway out.

Here are some tidbits of the genius insight they have found:

ARIES: Your pride is hurt, you yell a lot. Basically you freak out. They suggest your friends just let you. Sure they'll stick around for support while you're going bat-shit.

TAURUS: Major trauma for you- you won't handle it well. You're supposed to try and be like an Aries. Don't be yourself and you'll be just fine.

GEMINI: You hate when things aren't "normal"- you're supposed to multitask. They suggest scrapbooking. Good idea, scrapbook all the photos of you and your boyfriend who dumped you. That'll make ya feel good.

CANCER: They suggest "showing your ex that life goes on!"- that's right - revenge! Get really drunk and flaunt yourself at every bar you know he frequents. You won't look stupid at all.

LEO: Proud Leo's need to celebrate with a bottle of wine. Drinking is a fantastic way to forget about the pain for a couple years.

VIRGO: They suggest to be logical- the person was deadweight. Act like nothing happened. Yeah Virgo! Continue to sequester your feelings like you've done your whole life and further alienate yourself from the world.

LIBRA: Apparently Libra's break-up a lot because of indecisiveness, so they suggest to just party and forget about it. Good advice- never making any decision and pushing it under the carpet as "habit" is a fantastic way to move on! How attractive for the next person.

SCORPIO: Apparently Scorpio's turn breakups into massive regrets and beat themselves to a pulp over it. They suggest you "pretend it never happened"- it'll surely be easy to forget your 3 year relationship with meth or something. It'll be like it never happened!

SAGITTARIUS: Apparently you lucky Sag need to actually feel the breakup because you'll be a better person. Be careful though, as they suggest you may become Bipolar.

CAPRICORN: You prefer in life to be part of a relationship- so once your heart is broken, they suggest you go to an event you'd usually go with an ex alone. Perfect. Then you can see your ex with his new girlfriend and you'll feel so much better. And he won't think you're stalking him either.

AQUARIUS: This is the best. You're supposed to "provide yourself a safe place" so no one can see you hysterical. Basically suggesting rehab or a mental institution- you might want to pre-book.

PISCES: You really are the lucky sign, as "your soul knows the truth." You're supposed to "do what you want to do- not what you think you want to do." Sounds super easy. Get a lobotomy, stop thinking, and let your soul lead the way.

If you're interested in reading the full article so you can get even more helpful breakup tips....

After a Breakup: Survival by the Zodiac

When the Daughter is a Lost Cause

2009-09-30T07:01:00.003-05:00

Parents are the people we go to for unconditional pep talks. To assure us there is always hope, to be truthful but our greatest cheerleader, to help us wipe away the tears of life's unfairness and boost us back to functionality.

Only, I think mine have given up on me.

Which basically means I'm a lost cause.

Maybe there is a reality show for me.

(Granted, I only have half a set of parents. Mom in heaven is probably cheering me on, but it doesn't do me much good down here)

But I'm pretty sure my father is just wondering to himself why he couldn't have a normal daughter that either worked her way through law school or got married and had a kid or two. Like her sister. I see his head shaking, wondering where he went wrong? Could the Army have saved her? At least she'd have no problem finding a husband there. It's getting late for me to do anything normal with my life. He's lost the ability to sympathize with my whining and instead has resorted to agreeing with me. Which...doesn't really work the way I want it to. If I'm telling my dad life sucks- he's not supposed to tell me it does! He's not supposed to say, "Yeah, I wouldn't want my life that way." Now where can I go to with my woe is me act? I guess I could create an alter ego on facebook and get all inspirational friends from churches and born agains and weird people who are always ecstatic about life. Surely I could garner a little selfish support from them.

Or- I could auction myself off on ebay? Lost Cause for sale. Guess there are options.

Too Confused to Think

2009-09-29T10:02:00.002-05:00

I can't write anything. I can't contribute my self-mocking prose to the blogosphere today. I'm afraid anything that comes out will be too shockingly true because I'm too confused to make fun of anything.

Hopefully tomorrow I'm cured.

Why Are the Things That Feel So Good, So Bad?

2009-09-28T08:30:00.002-05:00

It's one of life's great unbalancing acts. A twist of evil. A snicker at our smile, reminding all of us "Not so fast, you're going to pay for that."

Why is it that so many things that feel so good are so bad?

Take for instance Coconut Cake. A well made version- moist, sweet but not too sweet, light and dense all at once- literally feels like pure happiness melting in your mouth. The high from this rare delicacy transcends any food related serotonin boost. But then you must come to terms with the fact that Coconut Cake is the devil. It is really really bad for you. Enjoyed more than once a year could be dangerous and detrimental to your jean shopping.

But there are more substantial life unbalances of good vs. evil. You know the story- the girl loves the bad boy* and the bad boy gives the girl tiny morsels of love but in the end the bad boy is quite bad and she pays for it. Why does this happen? We know the second we meet a bad boy that some chemical reaction we have no control over has possessed and overtaken our body functions (*bad boy = person who knowingly shows signs of 100% chance of hurting you in some way or form). We're like high zombies. But it feels so good! And then, when he scoops your heart out with a spoon, the low is much lower than the high ever was. But it's a classic story.

And then of course drugs, alcohol, sex (this is only bad if you're stupid)...the list goes on and on. I'm sure you can imagine many. Life's greatest pleasures acting as a cocoon over a nasty bout of badness.

It sucks.

Are the Kardashians Real People? I Don't Think So.

2009-09-24T08:49:00.004-05:00

I've had a blanket over my head the last few days and have been unaware of media happenings. Late last night I decided to catch up on my celebrity blogs to find out Khloe Kardashian is getting married? After dating some basketball player for a week? This is just preposterous. Am I really supposed to believe this? Did they have some really mind blowing text message ping-pong? What else can really happen in a week? Guys, particularly egotistical guys with money and skills, don't feel the need to have lifelong commitment easily. Why have one when there are the option of many? And then the rumor is she is pregnant. How is it even possible to get pregnant in a week of dating? Those are some miracle odds.

I've decided the Kardashian family is one big joke on America. They don't actually exist. The media created them to make us believe any stupidity is possible. Those sisters are actually Hooters waitresses in Dubuque, Iowa.

Important Life Lesson By Girl Twentiesh

2009-09-23T08:23:00.003-05:00

You know how you're taught from day one that anything is possible if you just try hard enough? That if you really believe in something, if you really put your mind to it, if you give it all you got it'll happen?

Screw that. Give up. Half the time it was a stupid f'ing and idea in the first place.

Adventures in Online Dating

2009-09-22T08:34:00.002-05:00

In homage to the dark leap I took a year ago, I'd like to share with you my adventures into the slimy waters of overconfidence, creative photography, and gross overuse of punctuation and emoticons: Internet Dating.

I didn't ever intend to do it. Internet dating. Why? Well, there's no one on there for me. I don't/didn't want to date the type of guy that would Internet date. That was my belief and I held to it. Not to mention how humiliating it is writing a sales piece for yourself. But one innocent 8 hour champagne brunch and there I was of which I swore I’d never do. But they convinced me, those conniving girls. They threw champagne down my throat and dared me to date online. And if I didn't, that meant I thought I was too good for it. Fine! I'm no snob. I wouldn't cower in fear of cheesy winks and unnecessary over sharing. I agreed with grandeur. I would Internet date, and I would put my picture up for all to see!

Uh, then I got sober.

I kinda hoped everyone would forget. 8 hours of drinking champagne can do crazy things to people. I avoided emails, kept communication low in hopes the little dare would disappear into a memory. Nope. They remembered all right. Those girls. They sure know when to push. I put it off a good week until finally with the deadline approaching I drank some wine, laid down on my kitchen floor and typed me a profile. As I started to type the words just flowed. Then I reread what I wrote and realized I was quite nontraditional. Out there. My self-deprecating manner oozed out of "all about me" paragraphs and I managed a heavy ladle of sarcasm in "my interests". I laughed. No wonder I was single! But then I realized the whole point of Internet dating. If somebody doesn't like who you are, who cares? Even though I was dared into the dang thing, I was going to be real and honest me in that stupid profile. I'd stab myself if I wrote the standard "I like to go out to dinner and have a good time and stay at home and watch movies and snuggle." I'd rather be locked in a dungeon alone then be so entirely unoriginal. So yeah, you get the attitude that came through.

I filtered through and picked recent photos- hoping no one would recognize me- literally squeezed my eyes shut and hit "submit". It was official. I was an Internet dater. Oh God.

....To Be Cont'd

Sucks to be the Unknown Guest of an Emmy Nominee

2009-09-21T15:28:00.002-05:00

I halfway watched about an hour of the Emmy arrivals yesterday. Nothing like the guilty pleasure of cooing over beautiful frocks or judging the uglies to forget about everything going to shambles in your own life.

However, because of the Emily Dickinson mood I was in, the only thing I could notice was how sorry I felt for the non-famous dates of the celebrities. As the "it" stars get bombarded with attention and stupid questions like, "What's your favorite body part?" by Ryan Seacrest and a bunch of other plastic interviewers, the date stands by awkwardly as if they don't even exist. The non-famous date doesn't know what to do. Should they nod as if they are a part of the conversation even though their famous date's pinky ring has gotten more attention? Or do they just stand there stiff as a statue, pretending to be an extension of their date's outfit? It's so undeniably uncomfortable and I couldn't help but sympathize with them. I realized that's kind of how I feel in a lot of social situations. As if I'm the guest of the famous people and I could go melt into the wallpaper and it wouldn't change the scene. I'm one of them! Only I don't have a famous date.

Now that it's a new day and I can look back on my non-famous date sympathy, I can't feel too bad for them. After all, they do get to wear beautiful clothing and accessories and probably got some free stuff.

A Good Old Fashioned Love Song

2009-09-18T08:33:00.001-05:00

I'm a girl, so of course I listen to the lyrics of songs. Sometimes I get really annoyed at love songs, particularly country love songs, as they make you feel so bad about yourself. Those country singers really love madly truly deeply. Whoever those girls are making men proclaim such adoration and devotion must be pretty fabulous.

But, I've found a song I like (not country) and thought I'd share. Seems honest. Like, "Hey, we're both messed up in some way, but you're enough for me." Real. I'm sure this is what Spencer plays for Heidi before they go to bed at night. But I do hope some of you out there have something like this. Nothing like a cheesy send off for the weekend...

She Is Love (Parachute)

I've been beaten down, I've been kicked around,
But she takes it all for me.
And I lost my faith, in my darkest days,
But she makes me want to believe.

They call her love, love, love, love, love.
They call her love, love, love, love, love.
She is love, and she is all I need.

She's all I need.

Well I had my ways, they were all in vain,
But she waited patiently.
It was all the same, all my pride and shame,
And she put me on my feet.

They call her love, love, love, love, love.
They call her love, love, love, love, love.
They call her love, love, love, love, love.
She is love, and she is all I need.

And when that world slows down, dear.
And when those stars burn out, here.
Oh she'll be there, yes she'll be there,
They call her love, love, love, love, love.
They call her love, love, love, love, love.
They call her love, love, love, love. love.

She is love, and she is all I need,
She is love, and she is all I need,
She is love, and she is all I need.

Don't Ask Questions You Don't Want The Answers To

2009-09-17T08:18:00.002-05:00

You know those burning questions? The ones you mull over internally? They are the questions continually popping up in your mind that you try and squish away into a corner until they disappear. The reason why you don't want to ask them, why they don't just flow right out of your mouth freely, is because usually there's a pretty good chance you're not going to like the answer. For instance, when you're wondering why that guy you like never actually calls you, but only sends you late night texts. You want to ask him if it's because he's seeing someone else, but you push it away in hopes it'll dissolve into dust. Unfortunately those questions are sneaky little suckers and they always find a way out. And when they come out, that heave of release you have quickly dissipates into the sickening feeling of knowing what you knew all along..."Uh yeah, I have been kinda seeing this other girl." Splat.

Replace this question example with millions of others. Would you rather be with a tall, dark haired foreigner? Yes, he would. Did you forget to invite me to that party? No, they didn't want me there. The list goes on and on. Why torture ourselves? There's enough shitty stuff in the world to make us feel used up, worthless and unloved- why add flame to the fire? Perhaps you're more curious to feel unnecessary pain than I, but I'm putting a stop to it all. From now on, if I have an inkling the answer will make me feel worse than the question, it's finito. I'll mentally belittle that question as irrationally as I can to force it to burst into nothingness and allow myself to live in a blissfully unaware* state.

*use of this state of being is grossly overused in my writing

Mother's Words of Wisdom

2009-09-16T09:17:00.001-05:00

My mother always told me, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."

Guess I'll stay silent.

Have We Become Too Free To Express?

2009-09-15T08:47:00.002-05:00

We all have a voice now. For better or for worse. Youtube, blogs, facebook, myspace, reality shows, texting, twitter, skype...pick your poison and your voice will be heard. But in this open realm of endless communication, are we losing sight of what it means to be appropriate? To be civil?

In the last week we saw a televised freak-out by Serena Williams, South Carolina Republican Rep. Joe Wilson screaming "You lie!" to President Obama during his address to Congress, and of course Kanye West bombarding Taylor Swift's acceptance speech to profess his love of Beyonce's talent. At what point during her acceptance speech, for winning best female video, did he think he had the right to be on stage? In his mad need to be the center of attention he entered into a world of oblivion centered on himself.

And these are just the celebs. Last week I witnessed a man demanding a lower price of gasoline to the poor gas station attendant. He felt it was his right to a lower gas-per-gallon price, considering he saw a lower price posted in his neighborhood. When did a gas station become a flea market? Last time I checked every price wasn't up for negotiation, and more importantly, a gas station attendant does not have the autonomous power to negotiate price of goods.

Just because we have the availability to speak our mind in every outlet possible doesn't mean appropriateness flies out the window. I realize free speech is what makes America so great, but I think this was conceived in the idea that people posses a bit of a civil filtration system. Perhaps with all this access to blabbing our mouths off we need to add mandatory manners training?

What I Want to Be on Monday

2009-09-14T08:13:00.002-05:00

Sometimes, when I wake up on Monday mornings, I wish I was a stay-at-home mom.

Unfortunately, you have to actually have children in order to do this.

And then I decide that I guess I'll keep my day job.

Happy Monday to all!

Hey You- With the Cell Phone at the Gym! You're Annoying.

2009-09-10T09:03:00.002-05:00

The following is a Public Service Announcement from Girl Twentiesh:

The gym is a place to sweat out your stresses, burn some cals, get out aggression, focus on me time. While on your cardio machine of choice, acceptable forms of personal entertainment are: books, ipods, magazines, television viewing and staring at the butt of the person on the treadmill in front of you.

A very unlawful activity in the gym is talking on your cell phone. Newsflash! The rest of us have zero interest in your personal dilemmas while we workout. As you beg your father to go to Target to buy you feminine products that fit your underwear (actual overheard conversation) I am neither impressed nor is it aiding my ability to complete my own workout in the privacy of my Fitness magazine. Not to mention, do you honestly think if you have enough breath to have a full on convo with your BFF while on the Stairmaster that you're doing any good? You're not. If you're going to annoy the shit out of me, at least be in your fat burning zone.

Brought to you by people who really workout.

The One

2009-09-08T20:40:00.002-05:00

The famously romantic title given to that person, that one human being who can fulfill your heart and soul in the perfect pairing of two: The One. Or rather, "one" big joke?

I vividly remember the Sex and the City episode where Carrie confirms what she believes to be just a fling to actually be a real love interest in the artist Petrovsky. He's romantic and smart and talented and women adore him- so naturally Carrie assumed her interactions with him to be nothing but a rendezvous. When she discovers she has real feelings for him, she decides to break everything off knowing her heart will be at risk. Yet he does the unthinkable and professes his wish to be with her in a serious committed relationship. From then on Carrie thinks he could be "the one" and after all, the ex-love-of-her-life continually cheats on her and demonstrates a reluctance to show she's important in his life. Petrovsky professes his love and adoration for Carrie...everything she's always wanted to hear. The One. I have to admit, I fell in love with him too. I secretly wished his real-life clone could discover me at an art show. Unlikely for me.

Obviously this is a TV show and not real, but this theme of finding "the one" continues past the tube. Everybody talks about it. But is it even possible? To have someone flourish you with everything and also be the perfect match for you? The one person in all of the world who was created for you? Marriage certainly doesn't measure this for everyone. Hopeless romantic I am, I still have hope this is true. If we can dream up themes for television, surely it can come true in life. From the beginning of growing up as a little girl, we're taught to believe in Prince Charming and his sweeping us off our feet into bliss. I could go the cynic route and call this pathetic dreaming, but I prefer to believe in love and the possibility of "the one." Only the real way it unfolds is he sweeps you off your feet, drops you in a few puddles, steps on your hair, and then eventually carries you through the door. Flawed, but my "the one" would be nothing else.

What Rachel Zoe Calls "Drama"

2009-09-07T21:33:00.004-05:00

Don't get me wrong, I love Rachel Zoe. For what reason, I have no idea, as she's kind of an annoying freak who looks somewhat alien-like and uses the word "bananas" as an expletive. If you're not aware of this Rachel Zoe woman, she's a celebrity stylist with a reality show on Bravo most famous for her stylings of superthin young starlets. The show follows her "life" as she lives the heart-thumping drama of finding outfits for celebrities. Is your heart pounding now with the excitement and suspense?

Of course it's not. Unless you have a pre-existing condition. In that case you should stick to watching your screen saver.

In the hour this reality show has to unfold, Rachel Zoe references "all the drama" in her daily career about a billion times. And she believes this. She really thinks her job is so brimming full of drama and stress that she can barely handle to eat half a grapefruit a day and swallow a Xanax. The little pixie has a DREAM job to most females, and she thinks it's on par with heart surgeons. I wonder if she's ever had a chance to read the newspaper? Catch the local news? Perhaps I'm not being very sensitive, but deciding between 4 dresses for Anne Hathaway just doesn't feel dangerously drama filled to me. It sounds like pressure, yes, but live or die- no. I can't help but wonder if when viewing her own show she doesn't feel a teensy bit sheepish. I hate those awful Jon & Kate Gosselin, but their lives are drama. 8 children, affairs, bad haircuts- that's drama Miss Zoe.

Brace Yourselves- Champagne and I Are In A Fight

2009-09-07T09:16:00.002-05:00

I have a really strong, beautiful relationship. He's there during all the good times and all the bad times, always knows when I need him. Selfless really. He'd give me anything to make me feel the highs of his love. However, all is not perfect. Suddenly this massive, surprising fight threatens everything we've built together.

Champagne I love you, but you're bringing me down.

The last two weekends my relationship with champagne has been weakened by the biggest offense- hangovers! What?! I don't get hangover. Girl Twentiesh is a seasoned professional in handling her champagne (as any dignified lady would do). But for some reason champagne is angry at me, punishing me harshly with full Saturday sentences of headaches. Stripping me of deserved days of freedom. What ever did I do to deserve this meanness? This spiteful behavior? What hurts the most is the unmeasurable trust I had in champagne. Never has he let me down. And now what? Do I give him up totally for Mr. Ketel One Martini, or just give him some space for awhile? Oh how it pulls at my heart strings. The agony.

Well champagne, I'm not going to give up on you so easily. I love you, and love is more than giving up at first weakness. I believe in you, and believe soon we'll return to our beautiful relationship. I hope this space apart can only make us stronger.

The Day After (Your Birthday)

2009-09-03T07:18:00.002-05:00

Balloons grazing the ground, streamers limp, remnants of a crumbling cake....the birthday is over folks. The day of all your closest facebook friends giving some TLC to your wall are over. You'll go back to page three of their status updates. A little emptiness in your heart from the swell of attention you got yesterday and the reality of everyday to come for the next 364 days. The questions of life illuminate on the day after your birthday, screaming "Look at me, look at me!"

Ah birthday, it was great while it lasted. Thanks for the memories.

It's That Time of Year Again. You Know, When I Get Older

2009-09-02T10:15:00.002-05:00

Birthdays.

They've been ruined ever since the toddler years. As soon as everybody made such a huge fuss and showered you with bright plastic things and candles and your own cake, you're doomed to be let down as the years go by. I actually started out with half the fuss, as I'm a twin and have never had my own special day, thus I'm better off than most. Less expecting of grandeur. The thing is, as you get older, people don't really care about your birthday. It's more like, "Oh, you're still around? Good for you. Don't f up." After 21 it's less about what you can do, and more about what you can't. You begin to question yourself when you party until 2am at least two nights of the week, "Am I too old for this?" Usually this question flies out the door as soon as the next happy hour arrives (for some people anyway).

What plagues me most is that I never feel any older. I've felt the same age for, oh, say 5 years. Of course I've learned and evolved and advanced- but I still feel the same age. I think this is good. I could look at the number of days I've accrued as a milestone chart- but what's the point? Won't change what I do anyway. I've always been both ahead and behind my times.

Guess what I'm saying is that here my birthday is, with an anticipation of having to feel something, and really I don't feel any different from yesterday. Besides appreciating the love & laughter I have in my life. And friends that photoshop the bags under my eyes. And boyfriends that buy me Frye boots. Birthdays aren't about celebrating me- but celebrating what's around me. As long as I keep this outlook...the future looks good. There's botox for the rest of it.

Someone Needs to Tell That Sales Lady She's Ridiculous

2009-09-01T11:51:00.002-05:00

For the past week my occupation has put me in a situation forcing me to shop for twelve actors. Sounds fun, sounds easy- it's not. It's stressful. Channeling my inner Rachel Zoe, I headed out this morning for my final must haves. Structured jewel tone shirt, nylons, what have you. Even scored a BCBG tie for $12. Savvy and economical.

As I began to feel the high of accomplishment, I was started back into some freaky retail world. The woman at Express. The woman paid by Express to sell me clothing. Unfortunately I am not privy to scare tactic selling- and this saleswoman resembled a character from "Twin Peaks." Makeup plastered to her face, a sickening perma-grin revealing the slight stain of a couple Merlots the night before, and the creepy voice of a serial killer acting nice before she slices and dices me. She talked to me as if I was a 4 year-old, and stared at me like she was in a trance. I'm not sure if this is part of the training manual- attempting to sell by hypnosis-but it was not working. Rather than asking her advice on the size 6 longs I bought for my model, I wanted to run and seek shelter at the nearest Gymboree in hopes of finding a mother's comforting hug.

This lady was absolutely ridiculous- and somebody needs to tell her.

How Fitting. What a Terrible Day.

2009-08-31T16:09:00.002-05:00

So, I've been slacking lately. Not on purpose, not out of boredom, not from a lobotomy. But I've been really busy- as I'm sure you are. Scatterbrained to the fullest. I'm lucky if I remember to put mascara in the morning.

But man, what a terrible day today.

I got a threatening feeling letter about something I didn't realize I was doing, got accused for hitting a car I didn't hit, my brother is sick with something and I want to fix him, I forgot to send a wedding gift, and I wasn't aware how to properly use my ebay account so I could receive the birthday present purse I bought for myself in time for my birthday. Which I won't. Oh, and it's my birthday week. Which means I'm getting older. Which naturally makes me anxious. Yuck all around.

Wait...He's Married?

2009-08-27T08:00:00.003-05:00

I make quite a few comments about The Marrieds (married people deserve capitalization due to their significance in my life). Despite what I may say, I really have nothing against them nor marriage. I am sure I'll be married some day, I mean stranger things have happened. Lifelong commitment won't be as daunting when life is already half over. It'll be more like, "Hey, let's hang during our downfall. If I'm going to go down, why not go down with me?" How romantic. But what really kills me is when characters from your life get married. You know what characters are? They're people who aren't your friends anymore, but played a part during a memorable period of life. Thus you recall them as only stagnant characterized beings.

So I'm strolling through facebook and see that my college guy friends are married. What? They aren't supposed to get married! How can they? These guys are the guys who have several kegs in their home, live with 18 guys, take home random girls, and buy me shots in basement house parties. And I'm supposed to believe they are married now? Impossible I say. Inconceivable. And then it hits me. I'm like the mom who thinks her boy is still her little boy and packing his lunch and doing his laundry and suddenly she realizes he is actually 45 years old with a severely receding hairline. As if she froze him in time to preserve her own inability to get past his growing old and away from her. Am I in some kind of denial about my age? Are my old college buddies finding me on facebook and wondering, "What the hell? She isn't married yet? Something f'd up must of happened with her. Maybe she turned schizophrenic or something. That happens in your twenties you know."

Why is Everyone Around Me Getting Lucky Breaks?

2009-08-25T09:08:00.002-05:00

I used to work at an incredibly dysfunctional establishment. I'm sure you're thinking "yeah, join the club sister"- but this particular place of employment went way beyond traditional workplace dysfunction. CEO's were fired like we were on Donald Trump's "The Apprentice", it wasn't uncommon to be asked to come in at 2:00am in the morning, and it wasn't uncommon for me to be asked if I would dress up as a genie and fly on a magic carpet for a promotional spot. I'd work no less than 60 hours a week, many people called me Veronica which wasn't my name, I'd be scheduled for 4 meetings at once that were mandatory, and I'd often run from people to hide. Oh, and while our bathrooms routinely were shut down- it was okay, because we weren't provided with drinking water anyway. But we did get commemorative rocks.

But such conditions force friendships. Friendships in coping. The people I worked with were like family, because really I spent way more time with them than anyone else. Such ridiculousness creates strong bonds amongst the tragically affected. We all felt equally abused, misunderstood, and down right depressed at times. But the light came in the joys of absurdity. Because we really saw some absurd things.

But this was a few years back. Now, many of us have moved on. Many of which were forced to leave in sweeping lay-offs. Myself, I was lucky enough to have the strength to leave on my own terms. Ah, the empowerment. The crazy thing is that lately many in this pathetic little clan of misfits have come into some pretty incredible fame and fortune. What are the chances? It began with one co-worker getting on a reality show that actually pushed his career into the real heights he wanted. Another, against all odds, became a real working model in NYC. And yet another has found fame on arguably the most well respected and popular reality show on television. All from my tiny little abused work-o-sphere. As if the harsh conditions actually paid off!

So now I can't help wonder...is it my chance? Do I have a lucky break waiting to be cashed in?! Does suffering really pay off in the end?

I'm The Control Group

2009-08-24T07:49:00.002-05:00

A few nights ago a group of us dressed up and went to the premiere party for a friend of mine's reality show debut (a good reality show requiring talent of the contestants). Fun was had by all in the form of various fruity concoctions. Storytelling, great conversation, laughs, wasabi covered peas...everything you need for a great night out. As we pit-stopped to pick up another guest on our way to the final bar stop of the night, the following announcement was made to our stunned guest whom had just endured a 5.5 hour drive to step into a car full of very happy glam'd up people, "Come on in! We've got three married ladies and a guy in here!"

Seems like a very normal statement, doesn't it? The problem with this proclamation of car inhabitants is there was one other, apparently unidentifiable person, squeezed in the way back. Me. There were three married ladies, one guy, and Me.

This dismissal of my attendance, based on the fact I am neither married nor male, made me wonder if I'm some kind of control group now. The Single Girl control group. Throw together a group of individuals with the "treatment" of marriage, being the one male in the group, and then the control girl who still remains the same pathetically socially unaltered girl (no marriage, no kids, no pets) and see what the scientific experience of the night can unravel. Comparing the results of the treated (aka married) group to a wild night out and the control group (aka not married) girl is essential to rule out imagined effects of the night. For instance, dancing in a bar full of 21 year-olds. By comparing the treated (married) group with the control group (me)- the results would determine there are no differences in reaction and both groups participated in the same way.

Lending my body to science. Sigh.

I Feel Sorry for Kourtney Kardashian's Unborn Child

2009-08-20T10:42:00.002-05:00

Wow. Talk about a girl throwing up her personal life all over the media. So apparently this girl, Kourtney Kardashian, got pregnant. By accident. And she realized after splitting up with her moron boyfriend. And of course this all conveniently happened right while promoting her new reality show. Amazing how that happens! By becoming illegitimately pregnant and being on the media circuit- she's taken liberty in explaining all the details of her ups and downs of the surprise pregnancy. She's told us it was a total accident because she missed her pill a few times. And how she considered abortion because she knew once she had the baby she wouldn't be able to sleep in anymore. Wow. That's one LUCKY baby. I'm sure it'll be great going to elementary school and having people laugh and point at him saying, "Your mommy didn't want you!" And what can he come back with? What will his slammin' retort to his fellow rugrats be? "I know, it's on Season 1 of Kourtney & Khloe Take Miami." How special will this kid feel?

Really people, some things can be left private. Be like the rest of us and just keep it a hidden secret between you and your best friend your whole life.

When Something Doesn't Feel Right: What Separates Instinct from Paranoia?

2009-08-18T22:51:00.003-05:00

Some people are freaks. They think the worst of the worst all the time. They are convinced the end is near, people are bad, accidents await, and generally behind everything lies a secret pitfall. On the otherside are the completely oblivious- wandering through life in naivety and ignorant bliss. Often getting taken advantage of, these poor chaps, as they would never suspect what hits them.

But what about when you just have a feeling something is off? Or you don't believe someone...but you have no idea why? Is this instinct or paranoia? Or, are they one and the same? I've always been a follow-my-instinct girl. Which is just a flowery way of saying I stick to my guns. If emotion or logic or the meeting in the middle of both feel an urge towards something, I go with it.

But with age and wisdom and eyes being forced wide open is my instinct slowly chipping away? Can instinct survive with the heavy weight of life experience in my pockets? For instance- take the multiple times I was promised a raise/wage in my career and didn't actually get it until I was forced to take action. I think this has happened four times already in my career. One time my former boss hadn't even told HR he promoted me! This experience has me not really believing when a boss has any conversation with me about wage. I'm not falling for the whole "here's more responsibility and I'll increase your pay" trick. Is this fair? This isn't based on instinct- but facts collected in my past. Which in turn leads to distrust and inability to spot the good from the bad.

What do we do? Trust our intuition or trust our past? Or say to hell with it and have a glass of wine?

When People Humiliate Themselves, On Purpose

2009-08-18T12:00:00.002-05:00

I don't see clearly why people open themselves up to humiliation for a slice of fame. And I'm not talking even about real fame (like the chicks hooking up with that stupid Jon Gosselin dude), although those people register on a complete new scale of idiot. I should author that scale now that I think about it...

Just this morning I was listening to a local radio station where listeners were allowing the DJ's to read through their email inbox live on air. You'd THINK the people allowing for this public revelation to take place would clean out their emails or be sure there is nothing embarrassing. Nope. Instead they allowed the live reading of things that only belong in private. And for what? The chance to have their name on the radio. The radio! That's like the lowest rung of media these days...but still with a big enough local audience driving through rush hour sipping on some coffee thanking the heavens they didn't turn out so desperate for attention that they must resort to cheesy DJ jokes. What are the odds the same girl revealing her emails also has a sex tape leaked on the internet? I'm guessing at least an 85% chance yes.

The question is- why? Are we influenced and motivated into complete self degregation by our neverending consumption of reality television stars? Watching Lauren Conrad's "career" makes me wonder if being a total moron in public is beneficial. After all, she probably has enough money for the material things I'm still trying to figure out how to gain (a white Porsche, a person to blow-dry my hair daily, and person to manage my mail). For her, I can kinda see it. Look at her hair extensions! They're perfect. But for the people just doing humiliating things to get on local radio- there is no pay-off. Crappy tickets to a crappy concert? Really?

I Apologize if this Blog is Boring

2009-08-17T08:00:00.002-05:00

I was told the other night that my blog has become boring. I could look back at my recent posts and analyze them with an ultra scientific test most likely on facebook that will take each thought written and categorize it as "entertaining" vs. "boring"- but I'm not sure I'd like to expend the effort. Because, in truth, maybe I'm just thinking about boring things lately. It's not as if I've bored down my life. I'm still going out, laughing, seeing crazy things. In fact just last week I took the dare of wearing whatever was bought for me at a county fair- resulting in a wardrobe of a pink tank that said "Sexy" and a matching pink cowboy hat with a blinking tiara seen from miles away. That is not boring. It was a study in human reaction. And I got a lot of human reaction. I kinda felt like I was a Playboy Bunny walking around in uniform, only I don't look like a Playboy Bunny and my uniform was much more embarrassing.

But possibly I need to be more inspired? My thoughts on gender roles are too dull and outdated? I wonder what I could do to get more interesting...begin channeling Lindsay Lohan? Start internet dating? Wear leggings? I guess I'll have to think about this.

For now I'm going to pack up and go to my job. Now, telling you about that would certainly be boring. I do have somewhat of an edit system.

What Happened to Good Ol' Gender Roles?

2009-08-14T14:33:00.004-05:00

I'm starting to think gender roles provided greater equality to women and men, rather than the popular assumptions...

Think of it. In the old days (the exact historical dates confining the old days are unknown to me) women were expected to be mothers and housemaids. They cooked, cleaned, and in general made life pleasant for the man. She may have been encouraged to be smart if she was lucky enough. Yet the man was in charge of making the money, making the family decisions, and driving the family to success. Things were pretty black & white, or male & female.

It's coming to my attention that this dismissal of gender roles has yes, given women more power, but now we're expected to do everything. And men are starting to do less & less. Now that they can feel free to explore hair products without getting ridiculed it's as if all their male duties have been tossed on over to the female area. As if a collective male sigh has been let out, "Ahhh. Freedom from standard responsibility!"

I mean, women in their twenties are expected to make a lot of money- and men are starting to judge us on this in their standard "potential mate" package rating. I hear guys all the time talking about women who make money and how she's more of a prospect. What happened to being judged solely on our looks? Now we have to be gorgeous, naturally thin (as we should be able to eat whatever he wants us to), a giving caretaker (coddling him when he has the sniffles), great in bed, a potential fantastic mother (in case things get dangerously serious), a skilled cook, a housemaid, and the majority breadwinner. All in one. Oh, and we can't spend more than 40 hours max at this job providing us with such a stellar income because that affords less time to massaging him and lining up the TIVO record.

I'm just saying- give a girl a break. Sometimes a few gender roles are good. Keeps everything equal.

And, Now What? (Twiddle My Thumbs)

2009-08-12T07:37:00.002-05:00

Are you ever hit the the case of "what's nexts"?

I'm hit with this affliction often. Job's going well enough, family seems somewhat stable, love life is fine...but what next? The stifling and suffocating hold of potential opportunity, ideas of the future, new territories to explore. Only I can't quite put my finger on what exactly it is I'm craving next. Perhaps I just need a goal? Like, a real goal. I've never had some deadline induced goal where I must complete X by day Y. I'm not really sure this practice accomplishes anything but making one feel as if they gave themselves an attainable goal so they can boost their self-esteem (perhaps my goal should be reviewing and mastering proper English, as I'm quite certain my use of "one" and "they" is all very wrong). The problem with this unsettling syndrome is I start to lay my life's components under a microscope of scrutiny. Everything is fair game, all is up for negotiation. How exhausting. And what's to come of all this analyzing?

No clue. I must wonder with all this agonizing if I simply need to buy a plant or something.

Why Men Move On (Much Quicker)

2009-08-10T20:08:00.003-05:00

Good old MSN dating and relationships brought another topic to mind today. Of course, my opinion is quite different from theirs. Why is it that men seem to move on so quickly? From breakups that is. They don't move on from most things that occur in their twenties for a really really long time. Possibly never.

A breakup for a woman is usually a big deal, unless she found her new beau before dropping the old one. Men participate in this practice just as often- thus we'll cancel the entire phenomena and return to the topic at hand: men drop women like fantasy baseball drafts. They size up and rate all the eligible players, generally go for the high profile picks (think hot flirty types who like to do body shots and are a good ten years their junior), commit to their pick, and as soon as there is the slightest hint of faltering (like she dares to ask him if he is serious about her or if he ever wants to get married) and then he drops her from his team and looks for a trade (for the girl who started flirting with him via text as soon as he committed). And it's done and they move on as if nothing ever happened.

Meanwhile, the girl who got dropped is at home SOBBING. Wondering what went wrong? The ratio is a woman tends to mourn a relationship demise for at least a week per day the male even entertained the breakup in his mind. He's out partying with his friends (Tony Romo) as quickly as he can get to a bar (and of course, his friends LIVE for breakups so there can be quality girlfriend-free male rallying) while she's feeling down and out and has no desire to be in public where she must endure groups of sloppy drunk men rallying because they are single and free.

Why is this?

MSN blames it on men not liking to be alone. Which, yes, I agree with. Men are big babies. But you know what? It's our fault, because women love to baby them. It's nature. Is it because men care less? I would love to say so, but I've had too many male friends have their heart's broken and know firsthand it's possible for a man to feel just as depressed about a break-up as a woman.

Alas, I have no answer. All I know, is with shows like Entourage on HBO it's a wonder all men don't pack their bags and move to LA on the idea that there are horny women everywhere looking to lay down with the slightest nod their way.

If you feel like reading the MSN article

Thanks Vacation for Making Me Want to Do Nothing

2009-08-10T09:31:00.002-05:00

There's something about a vacation that makes you want to do nothing for the rest of your life. Makes you desire even more to be a socialite (this has been a dream of mine ever since I was introduced to Paris Hilton and how massively one can screw up opportunity). Makes you unable to concentrate on work and everyday duties of life like paying bills and laundry. And I didn't even go on a real vacation, in fact, it was more like a retreat. A 4 day retreat in the woods with 40 of my closest non-family members. Complete with herd-like meal feasting. No, I did not go to summer camp. But somehow this non-vacation vacation allowed me to relax more than I've been able to on real vacations. And now, come Monday and work, I can't even think. Aren't vacations supposed to refresh you and energize you to return joyously back to service for pay? Yeah, it doesn't really work that way. Instead I just want more vacation.

As You Get Older, You Care Less

2009-08-05T09:49:00.003-05:00

The good thing about getting older is that I no longer give a F about certain things. Not that I've given up on laws or morality or human interaction or liking babies, but I have come to the conclusion some of the unique perceptions/tendencies I hold that people criticize- I simply do not care. So I'm different from the "mass" ideas and opinions? Good. Things like:

1) I think Michael Franti sucks. Yeah, you heard that right. His songs are lame and remind me of karaoke on spring break.
2) I think coffee for breakfast, edamame for lunch, some jicama and hummus for snack, and a bottle of champagne for dinner is a perfectly acceptable diet. You just wait, I'll be writing the next best-seller, "The Skinny Healthy Drunk Diet"
3) The movie Hangover is not that funny. Zoolander kicks it's ass.
4) Speaking of movies, Pirates of the Caribbean made me feel like I was stuck in a coma while forced to watch the same scene over and over again for 2.5 hours while I silently died from boredom.
5) I like super skinny and beautiful Hollywood actresses & actors. If I wanted to see average people I'd just go to the State Fair.

Feels good to just let that all out.

Deep Thoughts By Girl Twentiesh

2009-08-04T13:48:00.001-05:00

Sometimes you just feel like an idiot. Today, I feel like an idiot.

Post Party Depression

2009-08-03T09:55:00.002-05:00

Do you sometimes feel anxious, worthless and fatigued? Unmotivated, dehydrated, and the compulsive urge to eat unhealthy fare? The inability to see the light in the Monday to come? The excitement of a party weekend can trigger a multitude of powerful emotions from happiness to glee to drunken high-but it can also result in something you may not expect. Something no one talks about yet often experience- Post Party Depression. It's an illness, and it's real. I know, because I Girltwentiesh am a sufferer.

Post Party depression can develop after any party, not just a party weekend. The risk increases if:
-You saw grown men race red tricycles
-You indulged in several Suck and Blow shots
-You saw 40 lobsters inhaled by a group of drunk and exhausted adults from Beer Olympics
-A gorgeous pool and/or boat were involved
-You successfully* drank 4 martinis at opening ceremony (*the means without becoming ill or obnoxious)
-You were asked the same question by the same people no less than 5 times but didn't care because you also couldn't remember
-You've experienced post party depression in the past

There are no specific causes for post party depression. Physical, emotional and lifestyle factors may all play a role:
-If your friends suck, you have a 0% chance of contracting the illness
-Great alcoholic beverage choices, in unlimited quantities, increase your risk substantially
-If you hate your job, be very cautious, as you may have a hard time handling even the slightest PPD
-If you experience difficulty in remember your actions during the party, seek emergency attention. Flashbacks and repressed
memories can be detrimental to your recovery

While PPD is difficult to recover from, treatment is available. The most common cure of post party depression is planning another party. IMMEDIATELY.

When the Weekend Scares You

2009-07-31T08:43:00.003-05:00

One thing none of us can deny is that the older we get, the less stamina for college-like partying we have. Irrelevant of actual age, things like jobs & responsibilities slow us down. Kids and husbands for some. Pets and plants for others. No longer is the girl who could stay out at the bar until 2:30am and wake up to take her finals the next morning. Back then it helped with my stressing out. Now I dial it way back and go out until 11pm (going out consists of two glasses of wine). This is still pretty good though. I know people who go to bed at 9pm. On weekends. I also still know people who do go out until 2:30am on weeknights. Believe I'm a respectable in-between. Sometimes average is good.

But as my fun weekend rears its' head, I admit to being slightly scared. Two days with promised partying environments? Scheduled activities revolving around the consumption of alcohol? Actual Beer Olympics. Am I ready for this? I'm no slosh, never have I been the wasted girl saying inappropriate things acting all Tara Reid. I'm no "Wild On" host. But I participate, and wow am I competitive. Take alcohol and pair it with a competition and things could get scary. And it's not that I'm worried about the actual events to be attended- I'm worried about the aftermath. I'm worried I won't be able to go for a run on Sunday. I'm worried 2 days of partying could make my mind mush when it comes to Monday job requirements. Pathetic.

Yup, I'm definitely getting older. Or, is it wiser?

Why Wouldn't You Get Engaged?

2009-07-29T10:16:00.004-05:00

On this week's season finale of The Bachelorette (yes, I watch it, for research purposes of course) lucky giggles girl Jillian had not one, but three men vying for her hand in marriage! Wowsa. Just when she thought she'd have to date a lumberjack in the woods of Canada, in the short filming period of her reality show she got three men to fall madly deeply in love with her. And because television rules the world, she had to decide which man she would marry on strict programming deadline. Myself I'd be a bit skeptical. Even if I had three handsome, chiseled and seemingly sweat-hearted men professing love...I might have a hard time committing to the sacrament of marriage under such pressures and time constraints. I mean, I can't commit in front of the world and then back out! I'd look like a total b*tch.

But then I saw the ring she gets. Neil Lane bizillion carats. Why the heck not accept the proposal? In fact, she should accept all three. Then when she breaks them all off she can take the rings, sell them, and move to the french countryside where nobody watches reality shows.

UPDATE: Love this. Read this.

When Relationships End Due to Scheduling Conflicts

2009-07-28T10:01:00.001-05:00

Come on.

I love how when celebrity couples split, like the recent relationship demise of Kim Kardashian and Reggie Bush, they blame it on schedule conflicts. As if love is an appointment on the day's to-do-list. Basically Kim's saying her mani and pedis are more important to her than lifelong love? I'm sure it was hard to build a meaningful relationship with her intense schedule of nightclub appearances and spray tan appointments. And I'm sure the choice was a devastating one to make- choosing her promising reality television career over love. And I'm supposed to believe they had a real passion for one another? That'd be like me claiming I found "the one" only to break up with him because it was too stressful to have to coordinate my fanatical fitness routine with his affinity towards car detailing. Our star-crossed love just couldn't survive my sweat and his wax! Whose schedule would fit into Kim Kardashian's in perfect harmony? Her dog's? Perhaps a paparazzi? Either these people are that selfish, that stupid, or just don't want to admit they broke up because of reasons real non-celebrity people do everyday. Like they hated each other.

Girls Are Saps

2009-07-27T21:20:00.003-05:00

But you know what? We know what we're talking about. If you've ever felt sappy and reflective about relationship woes...you might like this.