White Girl Hip Hop.

Music is just another way for people to identify themselves. I guess that's why it's such a common question upon meeting someone new. What kind of music you like says a lot about you in other aspects of your life. Depending on what kind of music people like I can automatically think of a stereotype that goes with that particular genre of music.
Electronica: Likes skateboarding, dropping acid, and flat-brimmed hats. Wears sunglasses at night and is currently on their 5th year of college while working at the local coffee shop. Has a thing for glow sticks and laser shows.
Country: Probably owns a pick up truck and a dog. Entire wardrobe consists of plaid shirts and cut-off jeans. May or may not have a country twang, but always believes "ain't" is a real word. Loves Busch Light, bon fires, and Skol.
Pop: Usually females. Usually under 25. Blonde with very screechy voices. Boy obsessed and the mess of the party. Community college drop outs who still live with their parent's while pursuing their modeling career. Enjoys tanning, shopping and drunken cat fights.

Like everything in my life, when it comes to music I am very cliche. I like everything. Music is a reflection of emotion and will. What I feel and what I am doing greatly impacts what kind of music I feel like listening to. I also seem to go through phases with what kind of music I gravitate to most at specific times. Right now I'm in a weird rap and hip-hop phase.
Rap has always been my go-to when it comes to runs. There's nothing like some Eminem to pump you up for a good five mile workout, but lately I've overstepped the boundary between my 'workout' music and my 'pleasure' music as I find myself jamming to Jurassic 5 and Geto Boys on a fairly regular basis. By fairly regular, I mean every time I get in the car. Or put on my running shoes. Or pour myself a cocktail...

So if you would like to experience a suburban white girl's hip-hop/rap mania, here is my go-to, every day, speaker bumpin' playlist:
1. White America - Eminem, I don't care what anyone says, Eminem is a fucking genius and an amazing lyricist.
2. Damn it Feels Good to be a Gangsta - Geto Boys, one hit wonders? I'm not sure, but this is a total feel good song.
3. Work it Out - Jurassic 5
4. I Need Drugs - Necro, his lisp is the best.
5. Express Yourself - NWA
6. OPP - Naughty by Nature, you know the song... you just don't listen to it. But you should.
7. Changes - 2pac, I mean... he really puts the original version to shame.
8. The Way You Move - Outkast
9. Mo Money Mo Problems - Notorious BIG featuring Mase and Puff Daddy (pre P. Diddy)
10. Marijuana - Kid Cudi, yea, you can use context clues to tell you what this song is about - but you don't have to be high to enjoy it - although it would be nice...
11. Welcome to Atlanta - Jermaine Dupri featuring Ludacris
12. You - Atmosphere, the newer, better, white boys of hip-hop. It's hard to find a bad Atmosphere song.
13. The Salmon Dance - The Chemical Brothers featuring Fatlip, whether you want to learn a new dance (the salmon) or you want to know some trivia about salmon... bad ass song - and kind of funny.
14. Young, Wild & Free - Snoop Dogg and Wiz Khalifa, especially loving this song right now.
15. Thin Line - Jurassic 5 featuring Nelly Furtado, yes Nelly Furtado had a career after being 'like a bird'.
16. Lose Yourself - Eminem, great song for that moment in your workout where you just want to put a gun to your head.
17. Starships - Nicki Minaj, I have to at least one girl on this list... and Nicki is pretty awesome.
18. Make Her Say - Kid Cudi featuring Kanye West and Common
19. Crazy Rap - Afroman, you know you've cruised to this song before.
20. So Rich, So Pretty - Mickey Avalon, hilarious song about materialism and narcissism - two of my biggest demons.

So there you have it. According to my stereotyping capabilities I am a champion blunt roller and enjoy drinking Cobra 40's on the corner of 63rd and California. I wear Baby Phat and have 3 kids with 3 baby daddy's. I am also partial to kool-aid, usually purple, and Harold's Chicken.
(Only half of this is accurate)

The High Life.

Lately I feel my creative spark has kind of been in need of some assistance, as I haven't really been having any super interesting thoughts or experiences. Maintaining a blog is pretty hard work - laugh you may, but it is. Trying to be funny without coming off like you're trying to be funny is a balance that is hard to keep in check - and I may or may not have been accomplishing that thus far - as I think I am hilarious but others may not.

It's called 'dry humor'. And it's fucking hard to relay in written communication.

Anyways, as a recovering stoner my solution to jolt my creativity was of course to hit the bong. And get this, I thought of the best topic ever while I was high: Weed!

Don't you just love the preaching you get from pot heads about how great weed is, and how outrageous it is that it's illegal? Yes, yes. We all know that weed should be legalized for a variety of reasons: It creates jobs, it can be taxed, it's never directly been related to any death, there are medicinal uses, etc., etc.

But really, try and imagine life where we are all freely stoned. You would be in line at Starbuck's for hours as every person indecisively ordered their drink - then once you did finally figure out what your cotton-mouth was craving you'd have to repeat it to the cashier eight times while they repeated it another twelve times to the barista who would probably manage to screw up your Grande soy mocha latte with a shot of espresso anyways. And that's just your morning coffee run.
You're probably thinking, "but not everyone likes to smoke weed."
Well, news flash. They do. Everyone smokes weed. And if you don't - well, you're lying.
Not saying we all smoke all day everyday, but we all smoke, or at least did at some time. And if you truly don't or haven't, come hang out with me - I'm great at peer pressure.
Which is why if weed did become legal I would like to pursue a career in weed sales. I think I would be great at that. I mean, I guess weed doesn't have to be legal in order for me to begin a career in the sale of it, but I just picture it being more professional than sitting on my couch with a scale and baggies on my coffee table waiting around for you and all your buddies to get the itch.
I picture like a totally hip, high-end dispensary (no pun intended)-  kind of like a sushi bar... but with weed. And during the weekends I would hold Blunt Rolling 101. Because every good stoner needs to know how to role a perfect blunt.

Yes, indeed, I make my parents' proud. Not only do I have a college degree that I am using to bar tend, but I am thoroughly planning my future career in marijuana sales.

Love at First Click.

Is it just me, or is online dating totally whack? Have we really become so lazy that we are now allowing a database to pick our future mate? I mean I do think that there are a few circumstances where online dating is appropriate and helpful - like if you're middle-aged and/or divorced or you have some odd fetish that requires you to dress up like a giant bunny while you're having sex - but other than the few exceptions, the rule should be that if you're under 40, stop snuggling with your cats and get out of the house and go find a date, dammit.

Maybe it's because I am shamelessly a huge flirt and love attention from men, but I just don't see the appeal of finding a date over the Internet. And what about the chase? Isn't the chase one of the most intriguing parts of a new relationship? That unknown as to whether or not they like you as much as you like them? Online dating totally eliminates this from the dating equation. 

Aside from that, I find that it would be rather embarrassing if an acquaintance of mine stumbled upon my dating profile, as it would probably say something like, "Looking for a fun, spontaneous, successful man to take me on a trip around the world!" 

Awkward moments ahead.

And then, if the computer did happen to pick out the love of my life, we would have to spend the rest of our lives putting together a scenario as to how we met - because we certainly didn't meet over the Internet - as far as everyone I know is concerned.

Maybe we met one day when we were both out for a run along the lake. We had passed each other several times before, but this particular day was extra humid and we were both running slower than usual, so we began to run together. That's kind of romantic and believable, right? Although, I fear that as we age the story may change, losing any sort of authenticity. 

And so my future husband will be the result an organic meeting in a coffee shop - or let's be real, probably a bar; as it seems that having to live a lie for all eternity is much more strenuous than going out and having some drinks with the hopes that my man is out doing the same. 

And if that doesn't work - I'll be 40 in 16 years.

Damn it Feels Good to be a Hipster.

So I'm a little bit saddened by the fact that I might be a little bit too old to drastically change my appearance in any way. I mean, I know that I am not old old, but I am too old to just randomly get a new tattoo and my nose pierced unless I'm really committed for the long haul - I'm kind of past the whole "it was just a phase I went through" part of life, which sucks because I just really want to be a part of this whole wanna-be hippie craze that is going on right now.
Having a nose ring and an awesomely terrible pair of shades is something I am secretly jealous of. I want to get up in the morning and style my hair to make it look like I didn't wash it, and then put on a plaid shirt that I got from Nordstrom but looks like I got it at Good Will. And then I want to get on my retro powder blue bicycle and ride around for a little bit before my $200 ankle-length flower drawstring skirt gets caught in the chain - but it's okay if it does, because if it rips it will totally make my outfit way more hippie and cool.

I bet hippies are so pissed that their style is now a trend. Actually, I take that back - hippies probably don't care that this is a trend... and if they do care they probably think that it is hilarious that this is a trend. The entire idea of what it is to be a 'hipster' is one big oxymoron.
Isn't a hippie someone who doesn't believe in conforming with society? Someone who doesn't believe in materialism? Someone who doesn't judge others based on beliefs or appearance?
Isn't it funny that someone who is a 'hipster' is following a trend? Someone who is buying things to fit a certain look and be in a certain crowd? Someone who is clearly judging others because they are expecting to be judged by others?

I guess I'll just continue to dress in my 'timeless,' 'classic,' 'cliche' fashion that makes me look like I follow trends and that I care too much about my appearance - oh, wait. Because I do care about my appearance.

Besides... I don't want my kids to look back at pictures of me and say "ew, mommy, who's that dirty hippie girl?"

Sarcasm and Wit. It's the Irish Way.

It's that time of year again - where we all get belligerent, and we're all just a little bit Irish. Yes, you indeed guessed correctly (thanks to my use of green font), Saint Patrick's Day is upon us. And I in fact, take great pride in that I am Irish year round, rather than just for the day as I feel that the stereotypical 'Irish way' is accurate in who I am as a person.


"The so-called Irish temperament is a mixture of flaming ego, hot temper, stubbornness, great personal charm and warmth, and a wit that shines through adversity. An irrepressible buoyancy, a vivacious spirit, a kindliness and tolerance for the common frailties of man and a feeling that 'it is time enough to bid the devil good morning when you meet him' are character traits which Americans have associated with their Irish neighbors for more than a century." -Carl Wittke, Historian


I will be the first in admitting that I completely romanticize what it means to be Irish, as no matter what your heritage is, you tend have an idealized view as to what it means to be who it is that you claim you are. But the truth is that I really do resonate with what in my eyes, it is to be Irish; however I will only tell you in so many words that I find myself to be a kindhearted, charming and free-spirited lass (need I say witty?).


And so, instead of sitting here blogging about how I think I'm such a philosophical effervescent human-being, I will honor my ancestors by providing you with some of my all time favorite Irish proverbs and toasts that you can put to use during tomorrow's festivities:

• "May your pockets be heavy, and your heart be light, may good luck pursue you each morning and night."
• "May the roof above us never fall in, and may we friends below never fall out."
• "You can't kiss an Irish girl unexpectedly, only sooner than she thought you would."
• "Here's to our wives and girlfriends: May they never meet!" (for the sake of authenticity I have not replaced the obvious)
• "'Tis better to spend money like there's no tomorrow than to spend tonight like there's no money!"
• "It is often that a person's mouth broke his nose."
• "What butter and whisky won't cure, there is no cure for."
• "As you slide down the banister of life, may the splinters point in the other direction."

It goes without saying that there is clearly much deeper meaning behind these sayings, but that's what makes them as great as they are - to take life circumstances, some good and some bad, that are familiar to all and relay them in a buoyant way.

Slainte!

Warning! Life May Cause Death.

Just as I am trying to avoid my blog being a personal journal, I am also trying to avoid this being a place where I bitch - but can I just get one thing off my chest?
I am SO OVER hearing about every little thing that is going to make us die!!!


I swear, if it's not the cigarettes I'm smoking, it's the diet pop that I'm drinking or the Dentyne I'm chewing. God forbid I talk on my cell phone or use the microwave without getting radiation poisoning, and how I've made it this long using deodorant and still have retained any memory at all is just absolutely astounding. Yeah, can you believe it? I'm quite risky. I even drink water bottles that have been sitting in my car for week, and dare to leave the house without sunscreen most days (by most days I mean everyday). Sometimes when I'm feeling exceptionally invincible I eat my apples without washing them. And do I dare admit that I like the smell of gasoline and permanent marker? I know, I just thoroughly enjoy living on the edge.

I mean, really people. What are you going to do? Sit in a padded room and await your demise? It's just so absolutely ridiculous! Is a life so cautiously lived even worth living?

I'm not saying that we should all go to the gas station and huff the pumps or strive to smoke 3 packs a day, but have we really become so paralyzed by the fear of death that we're willing to drastically alter the way we live our lives just for a few extra years on this earth? What's more, a few extra years that are of no guarantee?

Death is one thing that every single living thing on this planet has in common - I hate to break it to all the optimists out there, but one day you're going to die. So you may as well come to terms with your fate, and enjoy all the vices that life has to offer.

"Get busy livin', or get busy dyin'." -Andy Dufresne, The Shawshank Redemption

Ode to the Little Things.

So daylight savings kicked in this morning, and it's as if the weather gods in Chicago decided to grace us with some beautiful temperatures to go along with the extra daylight. I don't know if it's just a midwest thing, seeing as our days of sunny skies are limited, but there's something about a gorgeous day that makes me want to fire up the grill, crack open a beer, and well, frankly just waste the day away (As Lennon once mentioned, "The time you enjoyed wasting was not wasted"). Especially in those first few days of Spring where we've finally gotten past the month of February; which I recently heard referred to as, "the worst month ever invented," and I find it hard to argue against this.

As anyone who knows me knows, I am notorious for threatening spur of the moment moves to warmer more enjoyable areas of the world, which usually have no substance or backing behind them; but simply arise because I am bored with my current position in life - or more accurately, I am just so over scraping my windshield and negative wind chills blowing up my jacket.

However with that said, as any Chicago native will tell you, there's nothin' like Summer in the city.

And so Summer is upon the midwest again, and accompanied by the rise in temperatures and extended period of daylight, is a heightened sense of happiness. For the next three months, my threats of running away will cease to exist as I carpe diem and drink the summer away. Iced coffees and flip flops will return to occupy my hands and feet as I lay in the grass pretending that my freckled complexion will actually tan. Afternoon trips to Oak Street Beach and Burnham Harbor will once again refresh why I love having a job that occupies my nights instead of days, and races through the city streets that lead me to athletic drinking fest's will remind me how sinful it is to run on a treadmill. And what girl could say no to a calming stroll down Michigan Avenue, sun shining down, wind in your hair, Nordstrom bags on your arm?

Yes, there's nothing like 9 months of Winter to make you appreciate 3 months of Summer. Hey, it's circumstances such as this that make us enjoy the little things in life - and if you can't appreciate the little things, can you really appreciate anything?

Movies for the Existentialist.

I tend to view myself as somewhat of a closet eccentric, which is something I shamelessly take pride in. I  say 'closet' eccentric, because I'm not completely sure that the rest of the world would consider me to be strange, as these qualities are not something that I typically put on display for all to see.

I  have a somewhat obsessive adoration for dark humor, satire and irony which plays a role in my self-proclaimed eccentricity, and leads me to my topic of the day: 

My top 5 cult classics that everyone must see (This will also give me a chance to display my abilities as a movie critic).

5. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, 2004

Even though first and foremost this movie is romantic at heart, it is still a film I would recommend to anyone that can appreciate an original idea and enjoys creative and thought-provoking twists and turns. A web of stories that do not make a full picture until the very end, it is a story of love and loss that is done in a not-so-sappy, inventive, sci-fi, sort of way; and in my opinion, is truly unique.

4. Fargo, 1996

For me, Fargo is one of the most ingenious movies ever made, and was my introduction into the dark yet humorous world of Coen Brothers films. Based on a true, and in reality extremely depressing and sad story, Fargo turns the unusual set of circumstances that surround the plot into a clever and satirical version of mishap; all while keeping the integrity and respect of the true origin and actual events.

3. Office Space, 1999

A genuine classic in every sense of the term, it wasn't until fairly recently that Office Space gained the recognition that it deserves. A thought provoking look into what it's like working in the corporate world, this movie should be watched by anyone who, well - has a job. Brilliantly witty, much of the humor stems from a sarcastic yet realistic view of life inside dead-end jobs and unfulfilled careers.

2. American Psycho, 2000

I happen to thoroughly enjoy horror movies and psychological thrillers, yet find that most are shallow and forgettable. Perhaps this is why I regard American Psycho as not only a must see cult classic, but one of my absolute favorite films of all time. The unique perspective on money, materialism and narcissism mixed with a deep portrayal of psychotic behavior makes for a sexy, dark tragedy that is almost poetic.

1. Harold and Maude, 1974

I name this as my number one must see cult classic simply because I have never met anyone in my generation that has seen, or much less heard of this film. A prime example of dark humor at its finest, this film does a fantastic job of using quirkiness and oddity to portray one boys' struggle in finding himself and fulfillment in life. Beyond doubt, one of the greatest and most underrated movies of all time.

So now it's time for you to fire up the netflix, pop up the corn, and get lost in some of the greatest films of all time that are overlooked, and totally under appreciated. Enjoy!

The Perks of Being a Handicap.

So I realize that I've been on blogging hiatus for the past week or so, but as blogging 101 will tell you - if you don't have anything to blog about, then don't blog anything at all. Who knew this ancient adage would reincarnate into modern times of technology?

Aside from not wanting to bore my enormous readership with the daily grind of my life, I've also managed to break my wrist, which makes typing much harder than you might imagine. I've never broken a bone before, so I'm totally milking this for all it's worth. It's pretty much become my staple excuse for anything that I want to avoid doing.
Can't get on the treadmill today - broke my wrist
Can't come pick you up at the airport - broke my wrist
Can't go to work - broke my wrist
Can't pay my bar tab - broke my wrist
I mean, it's such a multi-faceted and well-rounded defense for anything - I'm absolutely loving it.
It also works to the contrary (and for anything else that may arise):
I have to go buy new clothes - because I have a broken wrist
I slept until noon - because I have a broken wrist
I've been drinking everyday - because I have a broken wrist
I'm late - because I have a broken wrist

Having a cast has also brought another interesting observation into my peripheral. And that's how absolutely unoriginal men are. I've gotten more pick up lines thrown at me with a cast on than I do in a mini skirt with my ta-ta's hanging out. It's like they can't think of anything better to say so they break the ice with, "you have a cast on your arm."
Really? You think I didn't realize I have a cast on my arm? Thank you, thank you so much for that observant piece of information.
And if they aren't helping me out by finally bringing to my attention that my arm is stationary for the next 4 weeks, they are asking me how I happened to be in a cast. This route is slightly more original, but nonetheless, a cerebral person could probably come to the conclusion that this is a question I now hear on average 10 times a day. An original guy (if there is such a thing) would spark a conversation with me that had absolutely nothing to do with the obvious - i.e. that I have a cast. This would actually intrigue me slightly.
I really want to start saying that I got in a fight and I just have a crazy left hook, but I just can't bring myself to say this with a straight face, knowing that in reality I slipped bowling in an alcohol induced competitive rage.

All in all, my experience thus far as a gimp in society has been positive, interesting and even a little bit enlightening. Who could argue with a week vacation from work, excusable utter laziness and some totally unnecessary sympathy? Yea, it's fun every once and awhile, admit it.

Float Along.

I realize that a fair amount of my posts have been direct and indirect insights of my feelings on growing up and growing old. I don't know why, but growing up is something that I've been completely resistant to.

This isn't how I always was. I used to be excited about growing up. Excited about high school. Excited about college. Even excited about college graduation. Then something changed. Then I got a 'big girl' job. One of those jobs that requires your appearance from 9-5 five days a week. One that gives you 10 days off a year.
Let's just say this: Having a 'career' type of job just absolutely flipped me out.

It truly boggles my mind how much people work. I mean, maybe I needed a reality check way before I graduated college, but I just still can't get over the fact that for my entire life I had roughly 4 months of free time every year, year after year. Then, all of a sudden I have two weeks? Which really isn't even two weeks because I would've had the weekend part of those weeks off anyways? For the rest of my entire life? Why did no one inform me of this before? I mean, it just doesn't seem like there's any light at the end of the tunnel. It's just week after week - nothing to look forward to - but more work. And that is seriously one of the scariest things in life that I'm still trying to come to terms with.

I just really feel deep down in my soul that there is so much more to life than work. Yes, I get it. I don't need a lecture that I've already gotten on numerous occasions. You need to work in order to live. (Theoretically.) I mean, I've seen lots of people that are alive and don't work. Just walk outside Union Station and you'll run into at least 4 or 5. But yes, I get the point.

But this is the deal. This is my feeling on 'real' work:
You have your whole life to work. And you'll probably spend your whole life at work. Whether you start at 22 or you start at 27, I guarantee you'll be working for the majority of the rest of your life. So why not take these few extra years in between when you leave college and when you start a real career to explore. Explore who you are, and explore the world. Just float along, and see where it takes you. It's a time in your life when floating is okay. Because when you're 40, have your own family and are dedicated to your dead end job, it's pretty much impossible to just one day get up and exit the building. That's why it's best to avoid entering the building at all, until what's outside the building has already been discovered.

3 Simple Rules of the Golden Rule.

I'm going to repeat a phrase that your mother, father, grandmother, grandfather, teachers, roles models and anyone else of influence and respect has told you time and time again.
"Treat others how you would like to be treated."
I'm telling you, that this is the most accurate and wise advice I've ever taken seriously. And in all honesty, yea, it's nice to treat other people humanely, but the real reward is in the benefits that you, yourself will reap.

I have gotten free phone replacements, returns without receipts and tags, $100+ tips, numerous passes on speeding violations, and even out of a DUI (no joke) simply by being real and by being nice.
The first thing to realize is that with the exception of receiving overly-generous tips, all of these situations can cause anxiety-induced aggravation that is felt by the person on the receiving end prior to even having a conversation.
Here are three rules to consider in having the Golden Rule play in your favor:
Rule #1: Be Nice to People in the Service Industry! 
Keep your cool. No matter what. Nobody these days can live without their cell phone, so when it breaks, and you've been cut off from the world for 27 minutes by the time you can finally get to Apple, you're probably a little bit irritable. That's why you have to pull a 180 and act exactly opposite to the rest of the customers that are bitching about how they don't understand why their piece-of-shit phone isn't working after it fell in the toilet earlier that morning. It's the unexpected calm person who doesn't place blame for things that poor sales associate had no control over that gets the $149 replacement fee waived. Every time. I'm on number 3.
Rule #2: Cops (and all authoritative figures) are People Too!
You know that first time you went to the bar back at home for Christmas break, and you happened to see your high school English teacher pounding down some beers? Remember how weird that was, and how until then, you always thought your teachers basically lived at the school and had no family, friends or any sort of real life outside of the classroom? Cops seem to have that same semblance. That's why up until I had it figured out a few years back, every time I got pulled over I would get teary eyed, my voice would quiver and my hands would shake. This behavior results in an automatic ticket.
Here's what you have to realize with cops. People hate them. Cops know people hate them. So when they pull someone over they are just waiting for you to rudely roll down your window (yes, you can do that in a rude sort of way) and avoid eye contact as you bitterly hand over your ID. Now, I'm about to reveal the key to getting out of any traffic violation, yes, even a DUI if you are lucky like me (you may want to consider using your good looks with that one, as it needs a bit more persuading than the normal traffic violation). All it takes is a, "Hey Officer, how's it going?" Followed by a sincere smile, and perhaps if you're good at one liners like me, drop a little joke. This should work at least 75% of the time. Guaranteed.
Rule #3: Don't Judge a Book by Its Cover!
The absolute best tips I've ever received have come from foreigners and minorities. For those of you not in the service industry, these are notoriously the worst tippers of all time, and the most avoided tables by servers. You want to know why they are bad tippers? Because people in the service industry already have it programmed in their head that they are going to get a shitty tip when they walk up to a table of Asians, so they just don't even try. This is why I do the opposite. I go above and beyond for these people. Because I know, that probably the last ten times they went out to eat they got crappy service because of the stigma they carry with them. So when I take good care of them, they really appreciate it. And that appreciation is translated into at least 40% tips.
I will say, that this stigma of being stingy that minorities and foreigners have acquired did not come out of thin air, as I  have definitely had my fair share of bad tips, but really, for every one bad minority tipper, there's ten good ones - if you play your cards right.

So there you go. Drink a cup of compassion for breakfast and see how far it gets you. We're all human, we all make mistakes, so the key really is acknowledging this as a simple fact of life, and translating it into kindness to all.

A Glance at the Future.

Last night while working, an older Indian gentlemen asked if he could read my palm. Granted, he was three deep in Grey Goose martinis, but his fellow barflies assured me that this was not a pick-me-up, but that he did in fact, actually read palms.

I've always been somewhat weary of fortune telling and things of that nature, not because I don't believe in it, but because I fear knowing things I shouldn't, or don't want to know. If I'm going to die next week, I'd rather just stay oblivious to it. 

To my amazement, my palm reading guru really captured some key parts of my character, as he told me that I should not fear a relationship with food, I shouldn't be as concerned with money as I am, and that even though my love life isn't that spectacular now that in my future I will have a "great love."

Anyone who knows me knows that these three things are actually somewhat huge contentions in my life:

• I am constantly on a diet that leads to no where, and even though food could quite possibly be one of my favorite things on the face of the earth, I always feel some sort of remorse when I eat something I really enjoy. Being thin is important to me, but food is just oh, so good.
• I've never really been shy in admitting that money is something that I consider to be necessary in the equation that leads to happiness. I'm not saying I need the biggest house on the block or the nicest car in the drive way, but no debt and an abundance of world travels is part of the (missing) puzzle piece to my 'perfect' life. 
• And my love life? Well, that's not really appropriate blog talk. But let's just say the gypsy hit the nail right on the head as far as my current love life goes.

Now, I could go on and on about all the things my psyche contemplated upon having my palm read for the first time by a drunken bar patron, but I'll just get straight to the point and throw out a couple questions that I've posed to myself...

Doesn't every girl in her early 20's have issues with dieting, money, and men? 

And even though he was pretty spot on with aspects of my character, should I take his readings into the future seriously?

My readings into the future did not reveal anything that was really intense or life changing - as he only informed me that I would have two children and live until I was almost 80. But I guess what I've discovered, or rediscovered, is that for me, the most enjoyable part of life is the mystery that's involved, and the curiosity of what the future holds. I may die in 65 years and somewhere in between here and there meet Mr. Right and have two kids, but the part I'm most excited about is the unknown that lies along the rest of that road.

I'm Not a Bitch, I Swear.

In general, I like to think of myself as a loving, caring, sincere, and (most importantly to my point) an accepting and non-judgmental person. But... in reality, I just can't hide my inner mean teenage girl sometimes.

Case and point: New Years' Eve 2011. Party at my friend's house.
My friend had just started dating this girl who lived in Iowa. He went up to no man's land to be with her for the New Year festivities (what a great guy). We called him at 12:02, 2012 to say happy New Year; to which as I suspected, he sounded rather down and out - wouldn't you if your core group of friends all called you smashed and slap happy and you were all alone with your significant other in the middle of cornfield Iowa? Understandable.
Anyways, we asked him what he and the lady friend were up to.
"We're drinking wine and eating cheese."
Okay... Now I can groove with some wine and cheese. That is actually totally my cup of tea... but on New Year's? Not so sure.
Best part of the conversation:
"What kind of cheese?!" Prompted by my annihilated BFF,
"American cheese."

Am I the only one who thinks that that is absolutely hysterical? American cheese and wine. All I could picture was slices of rubbery Kraft American cheese wrapped in that peel-n-eat saran-wrap cover.

Now I'm not claiming to be some ritzy wine connoisseur, but this is some wine and cheese!

Working For What You Love.

It's crazy to me that the older you get, the less time you have for the things that you love. When did the things that we all dread doing take over the things that we adore in life?
I feel like I'm at that cusp in existence where bills are about to be my Saturday afternoon, and work is going to extend past 40 hours a week. Call me pessimistic... but that just plain sucks.
The older you get, the less friends you have time for. Hell, I think I'm down from 20 to 3... maybe 4 (seriously).
The older you get the less hobbies you have. You always hear middle aged people say things like, "When I was your age I was ______ (insert fun and spontaneous activity here)!"
The older you get the less you want to party. Even now, I look back to when I was between 18-22 and wonder how the hell I partied as hard as I did - a standard week now is one night of drinking, 5 days of hangover, and one day of normalcy.
The older you get the faster time passes. There's another thing middle-aged people always say: "I feel like that was just yesterday..." This is probably why old people are always doing bills - last month seems like last night.

Okay, I'm done being negative, because there is in fact a positive point to all of this. The point is that I've decided to start taking my hobbies more seriously, because I  feel like the things I love to do have in recent months fallen by the wayside. Hence why I am blogging again. I love to write, so this blog is a way to stay motivated to keep doing what I love.
Again I  point to irony: Isn't a hobby something that should be enjoyed? It seems for me to be a lot of work to keep a hobby... but that is okay.

Daily Life of the Damned.

I seem to be confronted with at least one of the 7 deadly sins on a daily basis. Wait a sec... who am I kidding? More like an hourly basis. Doesn't everyone? Anyone who denies this is living in La La Land (and is committing  one of the 7 deadly sins - i.e. Pride). Gotcha.

Let me give an example of how easy is to intellectually and physically commit all of the 7 deadly sins in a matter of minutes:
I meet my friend for dinner at a local sushi bar. It's a friend I don't even like, but she owes me money so I  may as well go. Greed. Starved from a rough days' work, I gorge into an enormous plate of deliciously fattening roles - you know, the ones with tempura and cream cheese (the Americanized roles). Glutton. I then transcend into a food coma where I contemplate how wrong that was to overindulge, when I peer across the table to see my stick thin 'friend' eating edamame. Envy. The more I think the more irritable I become. Anger. But I keep eating my deep fried shrimp anyways because even though I'm eating her under the table I'll run circles around her at the gym tomorrow. Pride. I mean, I wouldn't get this upset if it weren't for the fact that I'm approaching my mid-twenties and I'm on the prowl for some sexy man to call mine, and no sexy many wants cellulite and flabby arms! Lust. But we can worry about that tomorrow - it's 9 o'clock by the time I leave; Dateline and my couch are calling my name. Sloth.

When I write it out it truly does sound a little horrible, actually. But let's be real. I can't deny that I've pulled some sort of chain of events like this more than once in my life... okay fine, more than once this week.

It's a wonder that I've yet to be damned.

Beginner's Guide to Becoming a NCC.

For as long as I've been self-aware, I've fought to avoid conformity to the rest of American society. And through this philosophy of life that stemmed as a preteen I've also come to realize that to the contrary of attempting to avoid conformity, I have in fact, conformed.

It's like that old adage says: "You may think you're all different, but really you're all the same."

And so, even though I've conformed, my fellow non-conforming-conformists can contest that life as a non-conforming-conformist is much more amusing and spontaneous - and probably not for the faint of heart - as we do not find it obligatory to follow norms of the American young adult's lifestyle.

Here is a list of ways to become a non-conforming-conformist (some of which I have personally tested, others that I still need to conquer):
1. Attend a major 4 year University whether you know what you want to do or not. Face it, the important part of college is realizing that you can get belligerently sloshed 5 days a week and still manage to earn a degree. Remember: C's get degrees.
2. Don't let people tell you that you have to graduate college in 4 years. Why would you ever want to do such a thing? *cue life quote* "I wish I  knew then what I know now." It is paramount to realize that college is the absolute last chance you have to be a slutty drunk, have no bills, no worries, and no responsibilities.
3. Once you've drawn out college long enough, at least graduate. But don't feel that you are required to go find a 9 to 5 career - right away, anyways. It's nice to draw out that lack of wanting responsibility a little bit longer by getting a job as a bartender, or joining Peace Core.
4. Don't be afraid of recreational drugs. Yes, I said it. Why is that so taboo? We're all curious. It's human nature. The key to drugs (and every vice) is moderation, and age appropriation.
5. Use your assets to get what you want. There's nothing wrong with flirting - don't you want out of that speeding ticket or an extra generous tip? Yes.
6. Be yourself. Make no apologies. There is only one you, and as someone once told me, we need everyone to make the world go 'round. So embrace who you are, even if that means that some people won't understand you.
7. Find your own spiritual path. I know, it may sound like I'm getting a little 'one love' on ya, but really. To each their own. Believe in Adam and Eve? That's great. Believe your next life is determined by how you lived this one? That's great, too.
8. No matter what you decide to do with your life, keep focused on your happiness. If you aren't happy, change so you will be. If there is one thing that we all have control over in this life, it is our own happiness.

The Here and the Now.

Is there something wrong with getting old? Why are we so afraid of aging? Even when I was 8 years old I remember having a fear of reaching my 20's - a fear that the fun would be gone. No more playing with barbies, no more jungle gyms, and no more Santa Claus. I always wondered what people in their 20's did for fun...

Now I'm in my 20's. Now fun is a wine-induced heart-to-heart conversation with my girlfriends, shopping for clothes that I may potentially meet my mate in, and the occasional recreational drug binge on the weekends. And now that I'm in my 20's I look back and don't find playing tag as amusing as I once did; yet I fear that my 30's are far too close for comfort, as I once again wonder what 'fun' the next stage of my life will bring...

Will I be enjoying dinner parties with the future neighbors? Skiing with my future 2.5 children and handsome hubby? Reading Home & Garden magazine 30 minutes before my 10 o'clock bedtime?
Oh, how scary the future is...

I guess the point is that living for the moment is absolutely key to enjoying life. Enjoying the moment you are in for what it is worth. For what is fun and admissible in your here and now, may not be in your there and then.

Eat. Drink. And Be Thin.

Sometimes I wish I didn't have tastebuds. Why must food be as delicious as it is? Yeah, I get it. We need food to survive. But in today's day and age American society no longer eats for survival - they (and I) eat as a past time.

So in this, I seem to find an ironic set of circumstances within our culture:
The immense pressure to stay fit and thin countered by the norm of the social world: Eating out. Whether it's a first date, night out with the girls, or a quick lunch during our break, eating out (and in glutton) is just what we do.

I was once told, "nothing tastes as good as skinny feels." This is true.
But this is also true:
"Nothing tastes as good as a great plate of cheese and meat, and an amazing bottle of wine on a Friday night."
Ironic?

So here's to my solution: Eat up. Drink up. And after that, get your fat ass up. Cheers!

Living for a Living.

What am I going to be when I grow up? It's the question that I pose to myself on a daily - perhaps hourly - basis. Even after four years of University I still have yet to find the answer.

I want to be a writer. I want to be a crafter. I to be a professor. I want to be a world traveler. I want to be a personal trainer. A nutritionist, also. I want to be an activist. I want to be a student. A sociologist. A chef. A photographer.

Then there's the things that I personally want to be.

I want to be a good friend. I want to be a good girlfriend. (Eventually wife). I want to be a giver. I want to be passionate. I want to be true. I want to be real. I want to be counted on. I want to be happy.

Someone (theoretically) once told me - and everyone else - that if you do what you love, you'll never work a day in your life. That person has never met me. There are so many things that I love, and there is so much that I want to do. In today's society there is such an immense emphasis put on careers and people's choice of - or lack thereof - jobs. Your career path has come to define what kind of person you are and have become.
What is the first question asked upon meeting?: "So what is it that you do for a living?"
Well from now on my response is: "I live for a living."
If they want to know how I make my money, well, then they can proceed to question me further. But really, who feels comfortable discussing money these days?

A New Beginning.

Where do I start? I've tried this whole blogging thing before with a similar approach as far as how I wanted to 'enlighten' people, but found it difficult to remain on track. What I am trying to avoid is making this blog a personal journal - as I may find myself a rather fascinating individual, but then again doesn't everyone find this about themselves?

My goal this time around is to use my daily life experiences and self discoveries, no matter how miniscule they may be, to attempt to decode this insanity of a life we've all been given. As is the entire world, I am no different in that I am extremely sincere and passionate in the process of self-discovery.