5 songs to prepare for everything terrible

Every day, we do things we don't want to do. For example, tomorrow I work at from 6 AM until around 9 PM. No human likes being awake before 6 AM. If you meet anyone who enjoys waking up before 6 AM, you should kill them on the spot. They're fucking robots, and they want to kill you first. Don't let them. Do it for humanity. But, I digress.

To prepare for doing unspeakable things, I have created a musically-based method that is essentially scientific. Combine any of these following songs to make the unbearable activities such as "work" and "school" and "going to a shitty party" considerably more bearable.

1. "Bossy" - Kelis
First of all, I want to live in this video. Now that's on the table, we can proceed. If listening to "Bossy" a couple of times doesn't make you feel like a "boss bitch", you're doing something wrong. Also, for the ladies, I recommend you put on some liquid eyeliner and gold eyeshadow. If you listen to this enough times, the makeup won't become an option, and you'll just do it by default in an effort to morph into Kelis. Not that I know what that is like.

2. "Ego" - Beyonce
If you ever feel bad about yourself, listen to this three times in a row. If you are anything like me, you will go from feeling like shit to being a confidence monster. At this point, my tolerance level is to the point where :30 seconds in I am ready to fight anyone who looks at me the wrong way, because I am Beyonce. So, just watch out.

3. "Fancy" - Drake

This is my ultimate song for getting ready, because Drake encourages me to make myself look cute. It's especially important for these dire times, when all I want to do is go back to bed, probably forever. Maybe I would also watch The League. Point is, I don't want to get ready, and Drake tells me, "Hey, Alicia. You should. BRB time to rap."

4. "Jumper" - Third Eye Blind

So you don't kill yourself because you don't want to go to work.

5. "Green and Yellow" - Lil Wayne

This isn't even the best version of "Green and Yellow", but it's the only one that includes poetic lyrics like, "we shittin' on these fools, no bathroom." BOOM, yeah, Weezy. That is gross, but I am pumped about it. You should be too.

Now with this mini-playlist, you are prepared to take on almost anything. Work, trying to wake up before you want to, going to class, going to an event where you will inevitably be awkward, etc. Go for it. Live your dreams. Listen to mostly rap and one 90s song. It's your time to shine.

Why I will never be popular

Up until about 10 minutes ago, I was very concerned with my public perception. Actually, that is a hilarious joke. I have had a rough time giving a shit about what people think for... a while now. (In general. I still value some opinions very, very much.) This is why I present: Things I Realized Kind of Recently Vol. 1: I Will Never Be Popular, Even If I Become Famous, Which I Will. Is That Delusional?


1. I don't do cool things. I hang out with the same [wonderful] people every weekend. I go to work a lot. This blog is probably the coolest thing I do regularly, and it's not even cool. If I were a cool writer, I would probably chain smoke and drink straight whiskey or something. I would also not do anything actually useful, and I wouldn't care that I'm poor, and I wouldn't like television. I wouldn't be into showering. I'd look like a lady James Franco in Howl. But don't worry, I haven't thought about this before, ever.

I would also have a typewriter, which would send my blog entries to the internet through magic. Damn it, that's probably not cool either.

2. I'm bad at meeting people. Oops. Maybe it's my 13-year-old insecurity coming out in full force, but I am more likely to be known as "______'s weird friend" than anything else after first meeting people. Here's my theory. Middle school days, I was the weird smart girl. I got to high school, and my friends were also smart, so I became insecure even about my own intelligence. Also, still weird. Result: I am a less hot, less confident, less funny Aubrey Plaza. Instead of being hilariously awkward and Puerto Rican, I am white and holding a bottle of DaVinci white wine (2009 was a bad year for everything) accidentally glaring at everyone at a party. Weird girl drinking an entire bottle of wine? She's popular!!

Or I'm making this face, like a smug asshole.

If new people are lucky enough to hear me speak (a rare honor) in the vicinity of people who already like me, they are likely to hear words/conversations that sound like word salad. Example topics/quotes:

• "If you were an animal, you'd be a horse." "Yeah, a Clydesdale. You'd bring the beer. The Bud. The fuckin' King of Beer."
• "Yeah, Jafar was based on Prince. Probably "Purple Rain". You KNOW he was into kinky shit." -Discussing the sex lives of Disney villains
• "Who's Wilson Phillips?" "Just two dudes named Phillip and their buddy Wilson."
• Day of All the Blood
• Usher
• Aaron Rodger's facial hair
• Teen Girl Squad
• Harry Potter: "Accio cute boy! Bedroom of requirement!"
• Toddlers and Tiaras
• ++++MORE++++

3. My friends are too goddamn attractive for my own good. It's no use having a wingman who looks like modeling is their fucking day job. Even the most sparkling~* personalities cannot compete with super attractive friends. When I am out in social scenarios with any of my friends and accomplices, I regress to feeling like "kind of smart, mostly weird" friend (see #2). It's like the Lion King "Circle of Life", but "Circle of Awkward", as sung by me. In the shower.

4. Here are things I do in public (or semi-public): 

It is important to note that yes, the degree of odd varies in this upside-down pyramid of photos. However, it is also important to note that these are all staged photographed moments. Thank goodness candids are rare in my life.

Now, I need to be clear that I am not sitting here feeling sorry for myself. I don't feel pouty or especially lonely, and I'm not asking for sympathy from anyone, even though being unpopular is basically a disease. A chronic disease, that will eventually take my life. Like the series finale of Gossip Girl. I will always have my friends who appreciate/contribute to my word salad and still like me. I have Beyonce, who sings "Ego" to me three times in a row, so I feel like a boss. I have Kelis, who sings "Bossy" to me another three times, so I am reminded to kick some social ass before I leave the house. Every. Single. Day.

Fashion Werewolf: a very personal plague

I am almost constantly (read: never) approached by people for the plethora of fabricated mythology I know about two things: werewolves and vortexes. Today, after my years of research, I finally experienced something that was clearly one or the other.

Here's how this shit when down (you might need some eery music in the background): I went to the mall, on the seemingly innocent mission of buying some black pants, because my life sucks and all I ever get to wear is black. One job with a Bar Mitzvah uniform, one job with a funeral uniform. Eternal sadness and pre-pubescent masculinity all up in my wardrobe.

ANYWAY. I parked by non-threatening Boston Store. Non-threatening MY ASS. I walked in to a slew of Betsey Johnson purses and immediately forgot my identity, what I was looking for, and where I was. I walked out with a Boston Store credit card (what the shit?) and the following items:

Alright, there are some things we need to note about these purchases. First of all, none of them are pants. Three of them are kind of pants, but not to be worn out of the house without other pants. NOT EVEN A SKIRT. I did SO BAD. Next, THREE pairs of Packer underwear?! And they have vaguely slutty phrases on them? Who am I? "Let's huddle"?! That doesn't even mean anything. Unless you are actually talking about football (which I know you aren't, Victoria), that doesn't mean anything.

My main issue with all of this is the feeling I had when I walked out of the mall. Holding bags of shit, completely dazed as to how it got there. "You mean... I exchanged money... for this?" I asked myself, probably aloud on accident in the parking lot. When I got home and examined my purchases, I was not necessarily so much disappointed as surprised. I have only three rational explanations for this occurrence.

1. I was drugged. Somewhere between work and home and the bank and the mall, I was drugged and forced to spend my hard-earned money. It was probably Boston Store!! They have so much perfume and whatnot everywhere and it was drugged and now I have a credit card I have to cancel (but, guys, I got 20% off).
2. VORTEX. I don't know much about vortexes, but I am 98% sure that, based on everything I just made up about them, the mall is one. You walk in, walk around in a daze, and aliens sell you things. Everyone who works at the mall is an alien. You can quote me on that.
3. I am a fashion werewolf. What is a fashion werewolf? Perhaps one of the most specific kinds of werewolves, it occurs when a vulnerable (read: bitter and bloodthirsty) individual enters a shopping mall. It's like a full moon all the time in there, bitches, and you best watch out. You lose control of your body and your wallet and buy as much as you can carry until your inner willpower finally gets you the hell out of there roughly two hours later. It's like a battleground in there, I say based on nothing.

I'm guessing that it was explanation #3, since I came out dazed and covered in the blood of the innocent. But, like a lady Remus Lupin, I feel at least kind of bad about it.

...And, BAM! Still worked in a Harry Potter reference.

How You Can Tell We're Best Friends

Yesterday, my best girl, Kaitlin, departed for her year of studying abroad in England. (Click her name for her blog!) While I am so, so happy and excited for her, obviously her departure prompted me to pout for a solid 24ish hours. However, during my poutfest, I was also prompted to consider what has made my friendships, not only with Kaitlin, so great. I feel like I am constantly talking about one of my "best friends", but I'm not even a very popular person. Thus, I have compiled this list of things that have actually happened that have helped me to determine what it means to me to be my best friend. Enjoy the list, kiddos.

WE ARE PROBABLY BEST FRIENDS IF:
-I have ever texted you saying I was stressed and you ask if you can order me cinnastix
-we have had marathons of stupid YouTube videos/weird TV shows until nearly sunrise
-we have ever agreed on topics to never discuss due to embarrassment and followed through
-you know that when the rule of secrets applies to not telling your significant other without asking
-my parents have your picture on the fridge (or vice versa)
-you have driven my sorry ass to the impound lot (more than once, shit)
-we have made picnics out of limited rations, meaning we mostly just took some bread and meat and ate it outside
-you have seen me cry, which I almost forgot because you know not to mention it ever
-we have had creepy telepathic moments
-we have listened to the same Usher song on repeat until we move on to the next Usher song we desire
-you have traveled cross-country to see me (or vice versa)
-we have spent days in the car together and don't hate each other and actually might love each other more because of it
-you play music with me
-I have sat in your bathroom for over an hour whilst drunky, and you have left your own party to sit on the floor and talk to me
-you have called me in the middle of the night upset about something, and my spidey senses allowed me to wake up (I normally sleep through any/everything)
-you have my Facebook password so no one sends creepy shit at me if I die
-you call me on my shit, but in a delicate enough manner so I don't freak out
-I have called you when I walk somewhere by myself after dark, for safety
-probably other weird, embarrassing things

While most of these things are probably too embarrassing for the internet, BUT I can and will take solace in the fact that at least one other person was involved in all these encounters.

PHOTOGRAPHIC PROOF OF FRIENDSHIPS:

I'm a cynical asshole most of the time, but I am somehow still blessed with some of the most wonderful people in my life ever. Which is cool, because based on the thunder outside, I am probably going to die tonight. RIP.

Fall, Falling, Fell

Today was the first legitimately chilly day of autumn, a topic of mixed feelings in my life. They're mostly positive, what with the reintroduction of sweaters and knee socks and my leather jacket into my wardrobe. However, I forgot how... cold... it is. My classic "no pants after 9" rule has been replaced by "it's really cold, put some extra pants on and maybe some socks". I am fairly certain that my feelings on pants have already been expressed in this forum, so you know that this is my personal hell.

Fall also brings back one of my main loves into my life, television. The series premiere of Up All Night with Will Arnett and people who matter less was tonight, and I am surprised at myself that I liked it as much as I did. Arnett is a no-brainer, but I am naturally averse to shows/movies/lifestyles where a baby is the center of the plot. I also Hulu'd the series premiere of New Girl with Zooey Deschanel, which I am 99% sure is a reverse-nerd version of The Big Bang Theory. If that's the case, I will find it endearing, but inevitably give up after 1.5 seasons. PROPHECY'd! Until then, sure, whatever. Next week is much more important, since Parks and Recreation returns and I can continue my lessons on how to be Amy Poehler when I grow up. So far, my notes say: Be really funny and nice and charming, try really hard. I am unsure I can accomplish this, but lo, I will try.

Anyway. All this being said, I hope those of you friends and creepy anonymous readers~* that are in school are having a good first couple of weeks. Do good at school. I will keep you updated on all the television programming you don't have time to watch because you're doing homework.

In the next few weeks, look out of a blog makeover. Potentially a new name and other cool features (not really about cool features). Have a lovely day/evening/mid-afternoon!

Goodbye, Summer. Hello, doing-the-same-thing-as-summer

I don't even want to look when the last time I posted was, because I know it is pitiful. Shameful, even. My idea notebook is bumpin' (new cool adjective for notebooks), but I haven't had the time/energy to write anything longer than a sentence. Why? Because I suck. Why? Because being triple employed is a bitch.

Yeah, yeah, I know I signed up for it. I know it will be worth it when I am rolling in piles of money (or crying into piles of money OR BOTH), but at the moment it is just super draining and makes my back hurt. Today was the first day of school for most of my friends, so it was a pouting day on my end x2. I do and I don't miss school. Bipolar attitudes toward education. Good thing I have 7836r723 semesters left when you include law school and round down.

I now bring you the pros and cons of working at my places of work. Keepin' it nice and vague to, you know, not get fired for being an asshole on the internet.

Hardware store:

(+) can/will go to work looking like shit

(+) most of the customers who come in are working guys who don't want to ask for help...

(+)...subsequently, I get to read a shit ton of Harry Potter guilt-free. Male pride FTW!!

(-) trapped in the cash register cube where happiness goes to die

(+) being trapped in said cube has improved my use of hyperbole

(-) I have no idea what the fuck I am ever selling/talking about

(+) I AM A MASTER OF WINGIN' IT

Restaurant:

(+) free food

(+) another step in my transformation into Sookie Stackhouse

(-) with my white shirt, black pants, and tie, I look like I just celebrated my Bar Mitzvah

(+) if that were true, I would finally be a man in the eyes of my people

(-) PEOPLE ARE ASSHOLES

(+) those assholes have to tip me

(-) I have to wear some mad Sketchers Shape-Ups

(+) thanxx to those horrifying shoes, my butt is looking really great

(-) seriously, though: people are total assholes

Beauty store:

(----) it's like being a crack addict in a crack store. But it's not just crack, it's the good stuff. Nice crack that makes you look like a beautiful angel sent from heaven covered in glitter.

(+) what's up, big ol' discount

(+) I'm new, so I can still play the new girl pity card (though I don't like to, it's nice to have the option)

(+) the ladies that work there seem lovely thus far

(-) it's a store full of ladies shopping. Unlike the hardware store men, they are needy as fuck.

(-) I'm pretty sure 98% of the stuff we sell is made up. Beauty products are weird. Rub bamboo on your eyeballs and your nails grow faster or something? I call bullshit. Maybe it's eyelashes growing and eucalyptus, not bamboo. My call of bullshit still stands.

Overall:

(-) workin' mad doubles

(+) excuses for mad nap times

(-) apparently I've started using the word "mad" a lot in this specific context, I blame work

(+) I can blame everything on work!!

(+) cash money/Young Money/Lil Wayne-->based on this train of thought, I am now Nicki Minaj. I DID IT

(+) I never have to socialize with people I don't like because I can say that I have to work and they'll never know it was a lie! Off the social grid!

you guys, it's my hit song!!

So, now you know what my life has been like is short form. Now that all three jobs are started and I have as regular of a schedule as I'm going to get, I will definitely be able to blog more. I know you were worried.

I am going to take my post work pre-work out nap, which I just made up and am very excited about. The only major thing you, the reader(s), have missed in the past month is how cute me and Kelsey look in this picture: 

Okay, now that is remedied. I can rest easy. Thanks for being patient with me if you have been. If not, umm.. you're probably not reading this.

Orwell Uprisings, Feelingz, & the like

Hello, dearest blogfriends. I have been slacking in the updating department due to working two jobs and trying to also be a person. Also, as addressed in this post, last week was Shark Week. I give you two pieces of multimedia to describe my past week, so that I can not use words.

I made these, which means I am an ~*artist*~

this is about working like a job, right? either way, it applies

Before I get to my brilliant George Orwell life references, I will address the "feelings" part of the subject. If you have read either of my serious posts (here and here), you know I have been going through some stuff all up in my brain. I say this lightly, but it has been, and still is, a journey that I have really been trying hard to improve upon. That being said, I have been much more of a delicate flower as of late than I'd like to admit. Thus, when I spoke to my grandma today (it was her birthday! happy birthday to her!) and she mentioned somebody told somebody told somebody told her that my blog was funny, I immediately started tearing up. Oh, feelings of approval! She then continued by saying how my uncle wrote a book and I should talk to him because she always knew I would be successful and I should write a book. ("Write a book for teens or young ladies!" "My favorite part was about you watching TV in your underwear, how silly!") Before this thought was complete, I was full out bawling. Oh, emotions! Ladyfeelings! By the time I was done crying, it was two weeks later. Just kidding. Point is, be careful being "nice" or "supportive" to me, because you will likely have to pull what my grandma did, which was get off the phone in a hurry. Same if you're "not nice" or "are average" around me. I'll probably still cry. I'm fun!!1

Now THAT'S out of the way, time to discuss all my jobs. There will probably be a series coming out soon called "Hardware Store Chronicles" which will be (spoiler alert!!) older hick men saying racist stuff and me staring at them. So it's a must-read, right? Also, update: Second job in question? I'm a waitress. At a country bar. I'm like a less hot Sookie Stackhouse minus the gap in my teeth and the vampires, at least so far. (FINGERS CROSSED.)

Here's the rub. A: Waitressing is hard. B: The uniforms 98% of the foodservice industry, including myself, has to wear... just, what? I look like a boy going to his Bar Mitzfah but he's not biologically Jewish just adopted so it's really awkward for him. I don't think they make flattering dress codes for servers, which is a huge bummer since we're relying on tips. So here's where George Orwell comes in, along with my voodoo ability to predict the future (yet unproven): Mark my words, there shall be an uprising amongst the service industry for better uniforms before better wage.

To make this more Orwell-y, I'll throw in the word proletariat. Also, this:

"And shall I still be allowed to wear ribbons in my mane?" asked Mollie.  

"Comrade," said Snowball, "those ribbons that you are so devoted to are the badge of slavery. Can you not understand that liberty is worth more than ribbons?"

And I close this section with: Yeah, bitch, I READ Animal Farm.

Now, "The Like"--a list of other things I have to say that don't have a category.

• I got another tattoo today! Needed to get my sugar skull touched up, so to make shop minimum I got my motherland tattoo I have been wanting.
• In the past two weeks I have swam in Lake Michigan twice, both around 3 AM. Oops.
• Someone suggested I should do a style blog and I'm still laughing. You do know I wear the same rotation of like four dresses all summer, right? Also, see above comment about my Bar Mitzfah.
• I'm thinking of renaming/redesigning the ol' blog. I'll either keep you updated or I'll forget and it will suddenly be different. The latter is more likely, but I feel like you should know that by now.
• My little notebook I carry around with me is getting obnoxiously full of ideas for stuff to write about, so get ready.

Alright, kiddos. That's what I've got for now. I head to Minneapolis tomorrow for the rest of the week to finish moving my stuff home, so it'll be a busy one. Hopefully I'll also have some antics to write about when I get back as well! Hope everyone had a great Shark Week.

QUICK CLOSING POLL: If I posted an end of summer playlist, would you download it? Clap once for yes. I can hear you. Trust me. Winkface.