The Undercover Badboy

In a recent discussion with my two roommates, Mom & Dad, I realized how personality-shallow I am when it comes to boys.

For example, I am attracted to intelligence. You use the wrong your/you’re in a text and I’ll probably politely file you into my imaginary friendzone folder, if you’re lucky.

Ambition turns me on like no other. Oh, you have dreams and goals? You don’t know exactly what you want or where you’re going but you know you want something more and you’re determined to get there? Tell me more while I schedule our wedding into my planner.

Don’t even get me started on politeness. You have manners, and you use them? Not only can you win my parents’ respect and admiration, but you are also nice to the random cashier or waiter or old man on the street? Get me a fan, I’m sweating over here, because that is hot.

 

And there is just something to say about a good sense of wit/humor. You crack out a corny joke and I’ll probably laugh. You keep up with my humor, poke a little fun, and feed off of sarcasm, and I will most definitely come tripping over my own feet into your arms.

However, these aren’t the only keys to my heart. Because, every girl loves a badboy as I am coming to learn. Yet this is a very specific type of badboy.

I’m not talking about does hardcore drugs, curses like a sailor in front of your grandma, drives 90 in a 40, has no job, gets around badboy.

I’m talking the undercover badboy.

The undercover badboy knows when to be polite and when to let out his inner badness. In fact, you might not even realize he’s a badboy until you are starting to get bored of his supreme kindness and then BOOM he whips it out.

The undercover badboy will have a job, goals, and respect, but he will also secretly live life on the edge.

His inner badboy will only start to manifest itself slightly into conversation. You almost have to figure it out for yourself that he is not some every day nerd. They’re so subtle, his BAMF qualities.

The undercover badboy will play with your nephew, have a conversation with your mom, hang out with your straightedge friends, and then only when you’re alone or with other BAMFs, will he let his true badness shine through.

This is what differentiates the badboy from the undercover badboy. He is not trying to display to the world that he is a BAMF, such as the regular badboy, but he keeps it hidden and only displays his badness when appropriate.  It is a thin line between the two, but one of which makes all the difference.

And that, my friends, is why I am personality-shallow.

What Job Searching is Actually Like

Step 1. Make resume.

Skills? Uh…I sort of knew HTML back in middle school when I had a MySpace… I’ll put that on there, make myself really stand out. Any employer would feel lucky to hire me!

Oh..But what if they actually want me to use HTML at my job? All I remember is how to bold the B in BaBiiGuRl…

What you’re left with:

“Skills: Microsoft Word.”

Step 2. Reading through job descriptions

They want 3-5 years minimum marketing experience? I worked at a Hallmark store during my winter break one year. I had to market like, cards and stuff….I got this!

‘Looking for a finance/business recent graduate’….Hmm…I was a Communications major but I have a bank account…Sounds good.

‘High school degree or GED equivalent required, college degree unnecessary’… So glad I went thousands of dollars into debt…PICK ME

 

Step 3. Finding your objective

Objective…objective…

Objective: To be employed.

…is that good enough?

Or should I put: “Objective: I have no specific objective because I don’t actually know what your business is about nor if I am qualified for the position. In fact, I don’t actually even want this job at all but I figured I’d give it a shot.  Pick me”

Step 4: Writing the cover letter

“Dear business,

I have a great personality. And I want to move out of my parent’s house sooner rather than later.

Pick me,

Your’s truly”

Step 5:  Sending in the resume, cover letter, and application.

*Click*

That e-mail confirmation came rather quickly…Alright. Now I just have to wait for the interview. I got this!

How exhilarating.

Look at me go, taking the initiative, applying to real-person jobs! I love the real world.

Step 6: Waiting.

Monday…Tuesday..Wednesday….two weeks later…

Step 7: Trying to find the phone number and/or contact person and/or e-mail address in order to follow up and find out when interviews are being conducted 

Where do they hide this information? I feel like I’m searching through a Where’s Waldo book.

Step 8: Realizing you didn’t get accepted or rejected. You just got ignored. 

I hate the real world.

The Annoying Co-Worker

When working in retail, we all have had to deal with that one annoying co-worker. You know who I’m talking about. As soon as you read the word ‘annoying’, their face came to mind. Your annoying co-worker will exhibit most, if not all, of the following behaviors:

• He/she will act super busy and important whenever your supervisor is around, but as soon as it is just you and them, the true laziness begins to show. You: “Hey, I’m really busy trying to ring up, wrap, and bag this customer’s items,  can you take the next one?” Annoying co-worker: “OHHH nooo, nooo, nooo. I don’t want to make them walk a whole foot over to my register! You can take them when you’re finished.”

• He/she will have some sort of terrible body odor and/or a flatulence problem.  If they don’t have either of these, then they will definitely eat only onion sandwiches on their breaks and come back reeking.

• He/she will tell you the same stories about their trip to London or Fiji or Sesame Place over and over and over again. Even when you stop responding, he/she will steep keep blabbering. They are like the energizer bunny. Except a lot less cute, and a lot less well-liked.

• He/she will stand behind you watching as you count your change, help a customer, vacuum the store, eat, breathe, and possibly even sleep.  Every time you turn around, there he/she is…just hovering…watching your every move. Even after you’ve told them plenty of times that their mere existence makes you uncomfortable, there they still remain.

• He/she will laugh at their own jokes, none of which are actually funny. Sometimes you will laugh along at the sheer pitifulness of the joke. Also, he/she will have a very disturbing, dry-sounding, been-smoking-for-50-years laugh.

• He/she will be condescending, especially if he/she had, in fact, been working there longer than you. He/she will pretend you don’t know how to do your job even after he/she made you take care of all of the customers as he/she just stood there hovering.

• He/she will be exceedingly slow, probably on purpose, in order to transfer the entire line to your register’s side.

• Whenever a customer asks a question, he/she will stand there silently staring blankly into the customer’s eyes until you come up to assist, even though he/she clearly knows the answer.

• He/she will spend the entire shift either drawing weird anime onto receipt paper, or making personal telephone calls on the company’s phone. Whenever you pass by, you hear them throw in the company’s name in the conversation to make it act like it’s a business call, but you know it’s not. Not unless the business is wondering what time he/she will be home for dinner.

 

If no one came to mind as you were reading these, maybe you should take a hard look at yourself…

You may just be the annoying co-worker.

 

Kaskade: A Man Who Truly Loves His Job (HQ Beachclub)

Alright. I tried not to do this. I tried to keep this blog general, relatable, humorous, inquisitive or whatever, and not full of reviews of specific events, but it’s now almost been a week and I feel the need to write about the wonder that was June 1.

Last weekend Kaskade graced Atlantic City with his presence by playing at the Revel’s HQ nightclub on May 31, and then again at the new HQ Beachclub on June 1.

While I was unable to attend his nightclub set, I made sure to find myself a little spot on the dancefloor at the Beachclub to witness for the first time one of my favorite DJs do his thang.

And boy did he do it well.

Behind the DJ booth, Matt Goldman started the party at this Vegas-style club, complete with a pool, bars, views of the Atlantic Ocean, and VIP service if you so choose.

From the beginning, you could tell that people were there to get down. Dancing was already occurring in the shallow end of the (what I can only assume to be) heated pool, drinks were being served…and spilled… and the music was only getting louder.

As time passed, I soon found my way to my desired spot for the afternoon: right near the front. Usually at shows I stand off to the side or near the back. But not for Kaskade.

As 3 pm approached, you could sense the anticipation in the crowd. We were ready for some Summer Lovin’.

Kaskade began his memorable set with a tease, playing the song Atmosphere before its actual release. Finally seeing Kaskade behind that booth after waiting hours in the hot sun mixed with hearing an amazing new song live made the crowd go wild.

I briefly glanced around behind me to see everyone singing along to the moving lyrics, jumping out of excitement, and smiling widely. There was not a still nor silent person in that crowd.

Kaskade moved along his set by playing some crowd favorites (and/or mash-ups) such as Eyes, Lessons in Love, Turn it Down, Last Chance, 4 a.m.,  and Room for Happiness.

While I was hoping and somewhat expecting to hear some of these songs, what really made the crowd ecstatic was his insertion of multiple genres, including some (but not too much) trap.

Kaskade even incorporated a mix of Zedd’s hit tune Clarity (although playing such an, in my opinion, over-played song shocked me a bit, but I suppose he was trying to appease all members of the crowd by playing something they know.)

Whenever the crowd was starting to slow down or lose energy, Kaskade would change it up in order to bring us right back to our dancing feet! Signs of a great DJ!

What impressed me the most about Kaskade’s performance was how much you could truly tell he enjoys his job. Not only was he into his music, but he was dancing around, jumping up and down, smiling, interacting with the audience (I swear we shared a moment during Turn it Down), and singing along.

Knowing he enjoyed what he was doing made it that much more enjoyable for us, the crowd.

He even ReTweeted my compliment about it later that night.

One of the most memorable moments was during No One Knows Who We Are, when everyone’s hands were high to the sky and voices were singing loudly along with the words, including, of course, Kaskade.

There was such a sense of camaraderie and unison among the crowd at that time and space. We were one, living in that moment, brought together by Kaskade’s music. “We are right now”.

As time passed way too quickly, Kaskade left us with the statement, “I think I convinced these guys to let me come back”, and I tell ya, Kaskade, I sure hope you do.

This may have been my first time seeing him, but it will definitely not be my last.

*Pictures from instagram : @dtam09

*Follow me on Twitter: @Dat_assh

People Watching in Atlantic City

This past weekend I trekked on down to the wonderful party city of Atlantic to see  Kaskade at the new HQ Beachclub at Revel (I’d highly recommend this Vegas-style club).

While I don’t gamble (ain’t no body got monies fo’ dat), I had a fabulous time exploring the beach, casinos, bars, and nightlife along the boardwalk, and of course meeting new people… aka people-watching the AC visitors.

Here is a list of the types of people I hope you are fortunate enough to meet, run into, have a conversation with, or simply watch while in Atlantic City.

1. The stoned older couple on the beach. I’m not speaking like, OLD-old, but  they were old enough. This couple will be super friendly, ask where you are from, tell you about themselves, and throw in a few recent stories of partying.

They might compliment your home city, “You girls from Philly? I can tell by your personalities. Women tend to be more alpha in Philly. We love Philly.”  Thanks sir!

Or even give you some pointers on where to spend your evening.

And then the stories about cannabis will erupt without warning. “Yeah man, this guy came up and was like yo… is that weed? And I was like shut up man, take a hit, but shut up.”

Oh.

And then the police will drive by along the beach on their little 4-wheeler thing and for a split second you will pretend to not be associated with them in any way. “Ah man, that was close. I have an open beer and a joint in my hand”…he says….

Oh.

Needless to say, these people will be entertaining to talk to and you will probably thoroughly enjoy learning about their lives.

He will probably travel a lot, specifically to Miami, but his girlfriend-wife-lady-friend has to stay home because she works a ‘real job’…

uh, what do you do sir?

Don’t ask questions. 

So, if you ever have the chance to spark up a conversation with a baked couple in their, say, early 40s on the beach- DO IT. It will at least keep you entertained and keep your mind off of the chilling sea-breeze for a few minutes. You might even get invited to meet them by the slot machines later. Too bad you don’t gamble.

2. Older foreigners. These foreigners will be wearing full garb, including long jeans, argyle sweaters, suit jackets, boots, hats, etc…in June….

They will have various different cameras and each stand independently in front of the ocean, one-by-one, in order to have a photograph taken of them.

Although there will be about 7 or 8 of them, they will not take any group photos. They will all stare at the model and smile from behind as one of them takes the photograph, and then they will switch positions.

Although you will probably not interact with this group at all, this is a prime opportunity to people-watch from the comfort of your own tanning location as you take selfies with your group. (…We all have our different photographing preferences)

3. Grampa. Grampa looks innocent enough. But then you realize it’s 11 p.m. at a beach bar on the boardwalk and he is sitting alone, smiling, sipping some drink with a paper umbrella in it. The DJ is playing some crappy LMFAO song and Grampa starts bobbing his head along. Whatever, he’s Grampa, what’s he gonna do?

You and your friends head to the dance floor whenever the terrible LMFAO song is done being played and you begin to go crazy, dancing, singing along, jumping about. You look over and Grampa has moved. He is now at the closest table to the dance floor, still smiling, nodding his head along with the music, and sipping his drink. But this time his innocence has turned into a sly smirk. He is glaring into your soul, or perhaps at your chest, you’re not really sure.

You ignore it and continue dancing, but every time you glance over, there he is…staring…watching your every move…

You are not sure whether you should think “Aww cute little Grampa over there, just trying to have a good time”, or “WHAT THE HECK, MAN? YOU’RE CREEPING ME OUT. GO PLAY BINGO!”

Eventually you realize you should feel creeped out and leave Grampa to creep on the other twenty-somethings in the crowd.

Oh wait, there weren’t any…

This should have been your sign in the first place.

4. The Bachelor Party. It’s Atlantic City- You are BOUND to come across at least ONE bachelor party during your stay. If you’re a girl- hang out with them. There has to be at least a few single guys in the group who are wiling to buy you some cheap beers. And, well, even the taken guys will probably be buying you drinks. I mean- their women aren’t with them.

**This is really the only advantage of hanging out with a bachelor party. I mean, they have their plans already. You just happen to be there as they are crossing one of the many bars they plan to attend off of their list. And well, right time and right place = free rounds on them!

5. Little guy. Okay, this is not to bash short guys. If you are a short guy and like taller girls- kudos! No discrimination. I like it. But Little Guy will indeed be at least a head shorter than you, and super unsettling to be around. You will come across Little Guy at one of the more popular clubs or bars, usually on the dance floor. He is the fist-pumping type…

Little guy will reach up with all of his might and tap you on the shoulder.

He’s kind of cute so you think “Alright, cool. New friend!”

And then he approaches your ear extremely closely, you can literally feel his lips on your lobes, and comes out with this line: “Hey sexy. I like your outfit.”

Like, no you don’t.

What he likes is that you are in your bathing suit in general. I mean, it is a beachclub. You smile, politely thank him, and turn back towards the DJ. And then you feel another tap from Little guy.

Ugh now what?

“Do you want a drink?”

Without even thinking you decline. And then you immediately wonder if you made a mistake. Should you have taken that free $15 drink? But then he gives you a glare and storms off, which makes you stand firm in your decision.

Clearly he was just trying to buy his way to rub onto your booty. (*See Dear Guys: What Not To Do At A Club ) 

Also, the bar was like, way far away from the dance floor..who knows what he could have slipped into that drink by the time he got it to you?

Maybe if he hadn’t used that creepy pick-up-line-maneuver and practically bit your ear off he would have had a better shot to spend his money on you.

6. Actual new friends. Every time you go to Atlantic City, you should make an effort to leave with new friends. This will make up for all of the odd encounters you have had the rest of the weekend.

You will run into them serendipitously and instantly have a connection. It can be a group or a few individuals, but you will spend time chatting, laughing, dancing- whatever you please. They will ward off the creepers such as Grampa and Little Guy, and you will feel safe and carefree surrounded by your new friends.

When you are forced to separate, you will have a deep feeling of sadness wash over you. You can’t be done with your new friends already! So you will exchange numbers and hope to meet up again one day.

College Graduation: The Saddest of All the Milestones

College graduation is the saddest of all the milestones.

Well, okay. It’s really exciting. I mean here I am, thrust into the so-called ‘real world’, ready to make money, live on my own, travel, learn new responsibilities, find a husband (lol just kidding on the husband-part) and be an ‘adult’. And will I soon move out of my parents’ house, find a salary job, and go create my own life? Let’s hope so… But that’s a post for another time.

Today I want to focus on graduation (mostly because I’ve refused to focus on the dirty g-word all semester).

As the day of doom approached, I felt cool, calm, and collected. I was frequenting the bar, spending time and money with friends, and all around enjoying the last of my college days.

What sucked though…is that I didn’t (and arguably still don’t) realize that my college days were soon to be over. Sure I knew in the back of my head. Why else would I go out on a Tuesday night or try to explore the entire city where my college was located in the last few weeks that I’ve neglected to explore in the entire four years in which I lived there?

Subconsciously I was freaking out.

I was spending money I barely had (my bad bank account). I wasn’t sleeping well for literally weeks on end (zombie status). I was eating my feelings  (just in time for bikini-season). I was trying to reconnect with people that I barely knew (and will definitely never see again).

I was sucking in all that is the “college-experience”.

And as the day got closer, I wasn’t afraid, I wasn’t nervous, and I wasn’t anxious. I was secure in the fact that I was graduating and ready to move on. I needed a new space, a new time, a new face. I was sick of the same people, the same town, the same classes. I wanted to make money, find my passion, grow. I was ready.

And then the weekend came.

The candlelight baccalaureate service on our college’s front lawn was beautiful. That’s when it first started to hit me. Tears silently filled my eyes as I struggled not to scream, sob, freak out. As soon as the seniors in various a cappella groups from campus began to sing the Irish Blessing “May The Road Rise Up To Meet You“, I lost it. Not only was this indicative of my college career ending and beginning a new chapter of my life, but OF COURSE the country I happened to study abroad in was Ireland.

Like, really? It HAD to be that song? 

Memories flooded my brain. Images of the friends, mistakes, blessings, anger, happiness, parties, and education I had at college slid across my mind like a slideshow.

Fast forward to later that night, in the local bar that I happen to love with a few of my best friends, enjoying the last beer we’d have there for awhile. We chatted a bit about graduation and how weird it was, but it felt like an ordinary night at that bar. Not the eve of our college graduation…

I don’t think I slept for more than 3 hours that night. I woke up late, as per usual, took a fast shower, attempted to apply make-up and put on my best fake smile.

This was it. This was the day that I had been working towards not only for the past four years of my life, but for the past 22. I was graduating college. 

Black circles under my eyes from many sleepless nights were only appropriate for my graduation day, as they were the symbol of my college life; whether I lost sleep due to staying up late finishing a paper and studying, or partying well into the early hours of the morning.

The ceremony was a blur. I try to remember, but only 3 weeks later and I hardly can. All I remember is that gut-wrenching feeling, and yet at the same time the avoidance of the fact that this could be the last time I sat in that school’s gym.

On graduation day, I barely saw any of my close friends from college. After the ceremony, I had a nice brunch with my family, packed up out of my college house, and began the hour drive home alone.

Um, thank God it was only an hour. The SECOND I fastened my seat belt, the tears came. And I am not talking some silent-cry like I’ve quietly done in my adult-life whenever I’ve come across a bad situation. I’m talking a SOB. A loud, painful-sounding, gasping-for-air sob.

That sob lasted the entire way home.  This is when it hit me. The last four years went by so fast. Freshman year felt like yesterday. I have met some of the best, crazy, smart, interesting people in the world. I had new experiences, new places, and new situations under my belt. And now it was all over. 

I remember feeling like I was going through a break-up, like Muhlenberg College dumped me and kicked me to the curb. I felt heart-broken.

And before this depressing-self-rant goes too far, I will leave you with this advice:

1. Don’t work at a card/gift store directly post graduation. It will only depress you to see people shopping for high school grad gifts, and make you think “UGH THEY’RE SO LUCKY, THEY STILL HAVE ALL OF COLLEGE.”

2. If you have to work at a card/gift store post graduation, go read through all of the inspirational sayings on cards and gifts…You might just come across this:

“You can’t move on to the next chapter of your life if you keep re-reading the last one”

3. The next chapter can (and probably will) be better than the last. College was great; it gave you perspective, experiences, and friends. You don’t have to let these things go, in fact, take these with you as you move on to the next chapter.

I truly believe, when given the chance, the ‘real-world’ can be just as fun and rewarding as the college experience was.

And I’m excited to find out just how great it can be!

(But really, this is how I feel about graduating)