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)

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Why I Chose My ‘Useless’ Major

In college I chose to double major in Media & Communication and Religion Studies. While I get enough crap about being a ‘comm’ major, and ‘having an easy work load’, ‘not having to try as hard’, or ‘taking the easy way out’ (none of which are true), my Religion Studies major tends to raise more eyebrows.

If you happen to study anthropology, philosophy, history, sociology, or basically anything in the humanities or social sciences, I am sure you have dealt with a similar issue I have: people asking why.

Why would you study that? What can you even do with that? Why didn’t you pick a more practical major? 

Recently I even had a friend from high school say, and I quote, “You trolled yourself. You were one of the smartest people in high school and you graduated a troll” because of the major(s) I chose.

Granted, being a jobless recent graduate, I took this criticism very personally. He was right- I didn’t choose a ‘practical major with a set career path’.

But why does that make my major useless? Does getting a high paying job immediately after college mean everything these days? Is that what shows my worth in life? Isn’t there anything else?

So why did I choose my useless major with an ambiguous future?

Because I like learning.

At my part-time job the other day a man asked what I studied in college, and after I told him, for possibly the first time ever, I did not get “…why?” but rather “So you’re an intellectual?”

Nothing felt as good as that compliment.

What majors such as philosophy and religion studies give to a person may not be a set path to a career, but they are not ‘useless’ majors that warrant a ‘why would you study that’?

Religion Studies may not give me specific technical skills to place on my resume, but it opens my mind, it allows me to think, to analyze, to compare, to understand.

 

Religion studies allowed me to think deeply about the historical, anthropological, philosophical, sociological, and psychological aspects of religious people, cultures, places, beliefs, beginnings, teachings, rituals, and understandings. I did not study religion to become a pastor or a rabbi; I studied it to gain a deeper, more well-rounded understanding of the world and how both explicit and implicit religious meanings has affected its history.

My major has forced me to think, read, and write critically. It has forced me to see things I would otherwise have looked past. It has forced me to learn. What more could I ask for out of an education? I mean, I have skills for my resume-I’m not skill-less, but I also have a mind, and an ability to think.

Further, set paths scare me. This world, my future is open. I can create and follow any path I choose. So if you were a finance major who wants to be a businessman and knows exactly what you need to do to become one- good for you! We need people like you in the world. But I never wanted a set path. I always wanted choice and opportunity. Therefore my majors were perfect for a person such as myself.

And guess what- the world might need you with your understanding of economics, and you with your medical doctorate, and you with your law degree, but the world also needs people like me with my Media & Communication and Religion Studies degrees.

So why did I choose my ‘useless’ major? Because I wanted to learn. I wanted to know. I wanted to think. I love knowledge. I love understanding. I love when my mind is opened and expanded. I love thinking critically. And I didn’t want a set path.

I don’t think that is a bad thing.

 

 

P.S. If anyone wants to give me a job, hit a sista up. I have a great personality.

 

Are Student Loans Stunting Our Maturity?

As I sit here on my parent’s couch over Easter break listening to Steve Angello’s Essential Mix at 9:30 p.m. on a Friday night… I begin to foresee my future.

**Fast forward 6 months. Diane is sitting on her parent’s couch on a Friday night eating a box of Cheez-itz alone with her dog, watching Forgetting Sarah Marshall or some other movie she has already seen 7 times previously.**

Let me start this off by saying I am both optimistic and greatly excited for my “future” in the “real world”; however, I can’t help but notice all of these drawbacks that may trip me as I attempt to leap into adulthood, forcing me to fall flat on my face. And so, it becomes easier to sit on the sidelines under the protection of adolescence than to take the step forward. However, I would argue that it is not only easier, it is almost becoming necessary for young adults to remain “stuck” as children for a longer period of time. And for that, I blame the expenses of college.

To elaborate, why do I foresee my future as spending countless Friday nights sitting on my parent’s couch? Because I don’t see myself being able to financially afford moving out of my parent’s house for <undocumented period of time>. And when I am home, I am boring. Suburbia isn’t exactly the party-scene of America…

Why won’t I move into a city? Oh, I’d love to! However the expenses of city-living and my student loans loathe each other, and I feel as though there would be a lot of tension in the apartment if all three of us attempted to live together. And since I’ve been with my student loans longer, I chose them as my premier roommate.

It’s a vicious cycle.

Student loans= living at home=not living in city= boring social life. 

And so I will remain stuck (luckily stuck, but stuck nonetheless) in my parent’s house, with a refrigerator full with food, Mom’s home-cooked dinners, and free Wi-Fi/cable (‘free’ meaning I personally don’t have to pay for it…)

These are all basic necessities as well as luxuries that I am SO thankful for- Thank GOD I have parents that will let their liberal-arts-degreed daughter mooch off of their Wi-Fi and Cheez-its until she gets a decent job and can start to afford both student loans and a crappy studio apartment with 6 other roommates in some unappealing area of some city some where.

However, as more and more college graduates are forced to move back home due to this vicious cycle of post-college-poorness, are their maturity levels being stunted?

I feel as though having this luxury of ‘home’ will only start to inhibit my attempts to ‘grow up’. I won’t have to budget myself or even my time for food and other basic amenities. College has spent its last four years attempting to teach me how to survive on my own, yanno with a meal plan but it still tried- yet will all that go to waste the more time I spend at home post-grad? Will I start to regress to my high school dependancies?

It is difficult to learn how to grow up until you fully submerge yourself into the life of an adult, and living at home prevents you from doing so.

When looking at past generations, they were moving out, getting married, having children well before or around my age of 22. WHAT. I cannot even imagine that lifestyle. Sure, our generation seems to focus more on careers and so that could be why all of this marriage-nonsense is getting pushed back for us, but could it also be because we simply cannot afford it? That education costs so much that we spend a good amount of our early twenties just coping with the idea of how to pay for food/housing/bills/etc on top of our loans?

I am so grateful that I have a place to live after graduation come May, but my only concern is that the more time I spend at home, the less I will grow up, that the financial burden of student loans forcing me to stay home will stunt my urge to mature into a fully functioning adult. That it will be too easy to be my parent’s little girl using their Wi-Fi and eating their entire boxes of Cheez-its in one sitting…

As much as I love calling my parent’s house my home, as much as I love coming home on the holidays, and as much as I am not ready to leave it quite yet- I hope one day soon I am ready to, mentally, emotionally, and financially.

To summarize, I want this home to be a place I *can* come back to, not one I *have* to because of the pressures of student loans.

The Art of Day Drinking

Day drinking, otherwise known as alcoholism if you are out of college and above a certain age (not sure what this age is, I can only assume it keeps getting pushed back with time such as the age to get married, start having kids, settling down, moving out, etc all do-for those I blame student loans but that’s a different story…I digress…ahem…)

Day drinking is an elusive hobby usually found deep in the confines of a college campus, particularly around St. Patrick’s day.

Day drinking is a favorite among these inhabitants, probably due to its rarity or defiance of normal socially-acceptable inebriation, or perhaps just because we all know in a few years we will be considered legit alcoholics for popping a beer…or three by 11 a.m.

However, there is a certain art, or technique to the appropriate way to day drink that differs from that of night-drinking.

For example, it’s Thursday night around 10 p.m. You are going to the club in an hour and don’t want to wake up the next day with a depleted bank account from the bar. So what do you do to make sure you are sufficient enough to not have to buy drinks? You pre-game. Hard. I’m talking terribly mixed drinks where your mouth literally burns from the amount of Vladdy. You go to the club for say 2, 3 maybe 4 hours, and you come home to pass out from the night’s festivities.

Day drinking is a whole different ball game. Why?

Reason 1. You are not drinking for those 2, 3, maybe 4 hours as you would on a regular drinking-night. You are drinking….ALL….DAY… Early in the a.m. until late in the evening. Therefore, you take it slower. You don’t need to make terribly mixed, painful-to-drink drinks just to come home after a few unmemorable hours to pass out. You actually need and want to make it past noon and still be somewhat coherent.

Reason 2. Therefore you have no real reason to pre-game. Yay! You can save your cheap vodka for Thursday night’s festivities and drink the cheap beer provided instead!

**Sneaking a mini bottle of Bailey’s into the restaurant where you decide to have brunch to add to your coffee is encouraged, however.

Reason 3. Since you have all day and don’t feel the need to be so drunk so fast, you can actually enjoy every stage of the drunken experience.

1-2 beers:  Nothing. My liver has been trained well.

3-5 beers: So this is what buzzed feels like…

6-8 beers “AM I TALKING LOUD? WANT TO HEAR A REALLY PERSONAL     STORY? ALSO I FREAKIN’ LOVE YOU BY THE WAY. I HAVE TO PEE.”

9-10 beers: *Peeing every 10 minutes* *things start to fade out* *you may remember who you were with or what you were saying, but you will definitely not remember both of these at any given time*

10+ You’ll find out tomorrow what happened.

Reason 4: And then you get to experience the slow process of sobering-up (which you never get to experience on a weekend night because you’ll be long asleep during this time.) Although keep in mind you will never achieve this state of “sober” unless you are in for the night, and let’s face it, you’re not.

The process is as follows:

You realize you’ve been drinking all day, start to take it slower, begin to sober up (but never fully do), eat some hot dogs/hot wings/hot pizza, go home, take a short 30-minute nap, wake up still drunk, drink 1-2 glasses of water, drunkenly attempt to apply mascara without poking out your entire eyeball and straighten your hair without burning your neck and having to explain to everyone it’s not an actual hickey, and you’re ready for the night’s festivities which should include your cheap Vladdy that you luckily didn’t use up earlier in the day. Make a really crappy drink to pregame with (although it’s not really needed considering your entire day was basically a preparation-you will definitely think it is and make one anyway) and go meet your friends at whatever party that won’t live up to your day’s rebellious, socially-frowned-upon fun.

 

 

Dear Guys: What not to do at a club

I frequent the club scene. After all, I am a 22 year old single college lady who just wants to dance. A few weeks back I was politely “no thank you”-ing the surrounding gentlemen in order to dance by myself when I was approached by a guy who said, “I think it’s awesome that you come here, don’t want or need a guy, and have so much fun dancing by yourself!” 

Thank you, kind sir for your words of encouragement. His simple words got me thinking, what do guys think girls come here for? What is it about me dancing alone that was worthy of a compliment from a complete stranger? Why is this so unique to see?

When I talk with my girlfriends it becomes pretty plain what we do not want at clubs. And so, out of the kindness of my heart, I figured I would compile a list of what *most* girls do not want to see/do/touch/hear while enjoying herself on that dancefloor so that you, handsy-gentleman, do not get the awkward “no-thank you” followed by giggles from that clique you’ve been eyeing up.

1. Your stranger-male-genitalia rubbing all up on my booty.

Contrary to popular belief, casually showing up behind me introducing yourself with your penis is not the way to my heart. I have to give credit to those guys who actually ask to dance, but if your form of “dancing” is casually showing up behind me introducing yourself with your penis, I will “no thank you” you and continue jumping around waving my arms in the air like I just don’t care.

If you would like to join me in that, feel free-the more the merrier. I just want no part in booty rubbing on your stranger gentleman’s sausage.

2. You to talk over the music.

I am flattered that you want to know so much about me, right here and right now… at this very second, but we are in a night c.l.u.b. Like, what makes you think screaming over the music asking personal questions is a fun time? What makes you think I even want to think about, let alone talk about the real world right now? In fact, I really quite enjoy singing along and dancing to the music. After all, we are in a club. So save the talking for another time… I’ll give you my number and then you can call me, maybe.

3. “Ayo Mamiii, high 5 for wearing those leggins'”

And yes, this is an actual example… One of which I have very few words for…

a) …High 5? Really? That’s how you get a woman?

b) No….Learn how to properly hit on a girl.

c) I am wearing leggings because they are comfortable to dance in. Am I aware that they make any hiney look like a 10? Yes, yes I am. But I am wearing them for my own comfort/laziness, not to be high fived from your approval.

d) MY EYES ARE UP ….AND AROUND AND OVER…HERE!

4. Random hands groping and grasping as I make my way to the bathroom…or bar…or just through the club…

So this type of guy takes the opposite approach of “ayo mamii dat butt” and just goes for it. He just reaches his hand out into the crowd, wiggles it around a bit, and grabs any thing that he thinks is a private female part.

Why do you think that is appropriate? Where in the world would this be appropriate? (Okay, maybe a strip club, I’m not sure- I haven’t had much experience in that scene) but come on…

If this has ever worked for ANYONE out there, PLEASE, I am begging you, let me know. I need to hear your testimony. Because I am almost 100% certain that this type of guy at a club has never had any sort of encounter with the female sex, has no mother/grandmother/sister/aunt and apparently missed out on the whole concept of respect.

5. “I’ll buy you a drink if you dance with me.”

Do I look like I can be bribed? Alright, to be fair I will take the free drink. But as soon as I am done sipping whatever cheap-fruity thing that you assume I like, I am booking. Does that seem rude? Yes, yes it does. But you know what else seems odd- thinking that you can buy time to rub your peepee on my booty simply by purchasing a two dollar cranberry vodka.

 

 

So there ya have it. Of course I am speaking solely from my own cynical-female-views, and there are ladies out there would love nothing more than to shake their glutes against all angles of your thighs for a free drink, loving the cheap compliments you are screaming to them over the music, but I’d like to think that I can speak for at least part of the female population in saying: No thank you. 

 

*Disclaimer, I know not all guys are this forward/gross/disrespectful at clubs. These are just the few stereotypes that need to be addressed. 

 

Express Yourself: Tutus in a Sea of Cocktail Dresses

On January 20th I celebrated my dream birthday: seeing one of my favorite DJs (Diplo) in a freakin’ crazy city (Atlantic City) with two of my best friends from college.

After listening to middle school tunes such as Misery Business and LG FUAD during the car ride, passing out for a nap immediately upon arrival in a huge party city, my vegetarian friend accidentally ordering a burger for dinner, and losing $5 in the slot machines, we were ready to rave.

On goes the tutus, LED accessories, and kandi (handmade bracelets traded in order to represent a specific event, moment, connection, person, etc)

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(^my collection)

Little did I know, and despite the other rave-esque shows I have attended in AC, “rave gear” is not usually permitted in the Borgata

Awkward

And so we roll up covered in neon and beads, are some how let into the Mixx night club, and instantly realize how out of place we look (even though we were some of the first people there…that’s a sign….)

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Hey, at least we matched the staff in their fluffies & booty shorts.

The crowd continued to arrive in their cute cocktail dresses and heels as we danced about with the sway of our tutus. We met a few awesome girls in the bathroom (there ya go boys, that’s what we really do in there- meet new friends) and a group of people who were so excited it was my birthday that they screamed “HAPPY BIRTHDAYYY!” to me any time we crossed paths throughout the entire night…which was a lot… I didn’t hate it.

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It was one of the most unique raving experiences I’ve ever had, and I’m so glad I was able to have such an experience. There were no light gloves or crazy outfits (aside from ours, I suppose) that I am so used to seeing, but every one was still all there for the same reason: the music.

I received numerous hugs from strangers wishing me a happy birthday,  gave away an entire arm’s-worth of kandi to those who were interested, explaining the meaning if they didn’t know, and was able to join in screaming my lungs out and dancing my worries away with a group full of diverse people united by music.

One of the girls that I met, after I traded her a special piece of kandi that I made, had no kandi to trade back, so she literally took one of her regular bracelets off of her arm and insisted that I take it. It was such an amazing gesture-I almost cried.

I had some interesting conversations such as the guy who claimed raves are only fun if on Molly and when I told him I disagreed-I’ve gone sober, he apologized and said he would take away the stereotype (thanks for further imbedding that negative stigma into the culture, sir) , or the guy who said “I’m surprised they let you in like that” and when I wasn’t sure if I should be offended or not, he continued “but I’m glad they did. Your outfits are awesome!”.

I also had some interesting encounters such as the older man who kept trying to dance with each of my friends by casually showing up behind us even after we consistently said “No thank you”. If you are not my boyfriend, and you’re not because I’m single, then I do NOT want to grind with you at a rave. Sorry sirs.

But the absolute best moment of the entire night: Diplo played a BIRTHDAY mix, and despite the fact that I met others who were celebrating their birthdays that night, and birthdays are pretty common things- I took his mix very, very personally (after all, I have been tweeting to him about January 20th for weeks now…) And when it came on, the awesome people who were near me all surrounded me, pointed to me, and serenaded me.

Like. What. What an AMAZING present! I had half a rave sing a birthday mix at a DIPLO show to me!

So, I have to admit that it was unique dancing in a tutu among a sea of business-attire and cocktail dresses, but it was an amazing experience because, and i reiterate, we were still all there and united for the same reason: the music. (Oh, and my birthday)

And that’s what it’s all about.

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**Also, if I could only still do a handstand I would have Expressed Myself all over that floor.

22 Images That Made Me Scratch My Head and Think “..but why?”

I joined the world of smart phones in June 2012 after my trusty, but evidently dumb ENV-3 decided to stop working as a phone, refused to allow certain letters to show in texts, and the screen popped off… thus becoming entirely useless, except for the awesome street-cred I got when showing up to parties with this guy:

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Jokes

Once I was finally united with my baby (otherwise known as my Galaxy Nexus) I began to see the world in a whole new way. AKA I started taking note of the odd, hilarious, and ironic images around me, especially while at college. (I mean, college is a strange concept anyway: Let’s place all of these confused kids together on a block, take away the adults, and see what happens….)

SO, here are the 22 strangest, funniest, or most ironic images I have captured while at this strange institution called college, things that I have noticed and just thought to myself “…but why?”

1. The important staples of any college party: 5 pieces of cheese, a few crackers, brownie crumbs, a solo cup…and a Natty. 

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Clearly they don’t offer a “How to Host a Proper Gathering” course, here. At least you can wash down the half a piece of cheese you manage to acquire with some oh-so-delicious Natty light.

2. I think they’re doing “vegetable” wrong…

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How to get that beefy flavor without having to chew it!

3. Birthday wan-tan.

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The name says it all. For when you want the celebration but not the cake.

4. Birthday Explosion.

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This might be a fire-hazard…

5. College student, or culinary genius?

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Nutella & PB on one piece, mustard and cheese on the other…

I’ll admit this was me…it seemed like a good idea at the time…

6. Lovely and affordable wall decor for the student on a budget.

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Lookin’ like a fool with yo’ pants on the wall.

7. Pants on the wall with a plastic pony in them.

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Because that makes perfect sense…

8. A pair for every room in your tiny college-owned house makes it feel more like home.

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I think we’re really onto a new trend here…

9. Don’t forget your classy table settings.

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Make sure it’s crappy alcohol- the cheapest empty handle of vodka will make the best looking vase.

10. Childhood toys can also be used for decorating your college housing. 

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Check to see if it’s in some weird assortment that will probably fall down soon though- it keeps the suspense high.

11. This…just this… 

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Rollin’ wit da homiez.

12. Closet door removed from the closet can also make a convenient coat rack!

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Or it can be left on the closet and remain a convenient coat rack…

13. Moochers gonna mooch.

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Ladybug drinking my beer….anything for a free drink around here.

14. The mathematical equation proving that God exists?

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Or studying for finals for different classes made everyone a little crazy….

15. That…seems illegal. 

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16. At least we’re all mature here.

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Located conveniently in the bathroom so you can take notes as you do your doodie.

17. Fire pit gone horribly wrong.

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Or amazingly right?

18. Kiddie pool on top of deck? 

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Why not? We have “adult” supervision.

19.  I question my test taking abilities…I question even more how they work out for me…

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But I’m glad they do.

20. My Photo notes.

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Use a filter, and burn the THC? I swear this is about photography and not marijuana in any way….

21. The perfect place for Mr. Potato Head.

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Clearly that dish washer isn’t ever used for its intended purpose…

22. Sudden sleep for women- the new roofie?

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Like…why does this exist?

And there ya have it, 22 things I have seen that have struck me as sharing-worthy to celebrate my 22nd birthday. (Okay, I just threw that in there, the number was a coincidence.)

**Some of these strange things were my own doing…I’m not sorry…Pants are a convenient decoration and I love playing with toys. 

5 Things That Bother Me Probably More Than They Should

1. Hashtags on Facebook. Let me give you a little insight as to why hashtags work: They create links to the other people who also hashtagged the same hashtag that you hashtagged….on TWITTER…or Instagram, even. However, Facebook does not use this technology and therefore you just look like an idiot when you #hashtag #everything #in #your #Facebook #Status.

which brings me to my next annoyance….

2. Incorrect Usage of Hashtags…on Facebook. Clearly you already don’t understand the way hashtags work if you are using them on Facebook, so I really shouldn’t hold your ignorance against you, but if you’re going to use hashtags, you should probably be aware that this would be an incorrect usage:

“Zomg FB Friends, I had THEE most amaziiingg burger earlier which I will most definitely instagram later because I know you all want to see it but my hashtags probably won’t work there because I don’t know how to use them #Best Burger Ever.”

The word you linked there…was “#Best”. Just Best. If you ever want to migrate over to the world where hashtags are socially acceptable (i.e. not Facebook), and you were curious as to who else thought they were having the best burger ever, you should be aware that spaces will ruin your linking. Therefore instead of saying #Best Burger Ever, you should say #BestBurgerEver .

It’s not a middle school dance, you don’t need to leave room for Jesus in between your words when hashtagging.

3. You’re/Your/They’re/Their/There.  I know this is a big topic of controversy in the grammar-world and that it is brought up quite often on social media sites. AKA some people think it’s an easy enough mistake and not something to worry about annnnd then there are people such as myself that say…no. Just, no. They have completely different meanings.

Would you write “Hey, can you get me I scream?” instead of “ice cream” just because they sound the same? No. Why not? Because you would look like a moron and/or your intended meaning would be completely skewed. So learn the difference between you’re and your, and they’re, their, and there.

What makes me the most ecstatic is when people mess up these simple words inconsistently: “Their are people over they’re and there going with they’re friends over to there.”

Like, if you’re going to mess them up, at least be consistent with the mistakes….

**We all are allowed to make these mistakes every once in awhile. We’re human. I understand, but come on. Some people, native-English speakers, just really don’t know the differences. And letting people incorrectly use these words over and over and over again is just a sign of our laziness and apathy.

4. “I axed him where the liberry is”

You axed him? Should I call the authorities and put a warrant out for your arrest? And what exactly is a liberry? Is that a nice cross-breed between the lime and the strawberry? That sounds delicious!

5. *Sitting down enjoying the movie in a public theater, quiet/sad/romantic/moving scene comes onto screen, I’m really into it, and BOOM “I’M A REDNECK WOMAN, I AIN’T NO HIGH CLASS BROAD” starts blaring from the woman’s purse down the aisle from me*

Thank you, lady. Thank you for ruining even just 30 seconds of my over-priced movie ticket. Did you not see the FIFTEEN advertisements during the previews to turn off your cellphone? Were they not clear enough for you? Were you so positive of your lack of popularity that no one would call you during the movie?

I would like to sum this up with an endearing message I wish I would have left for the lady I had the unpleasant experience of sharing a theater with this afternoon:

“Dear Lady who took 10 minutes deciding on which popcorn size to buy as I patiently waited in line behind you, I really loved it when your phone went off during the last song in Les Mis. No, no, please take all the time you need bending over and fumbling through your purse in order to turn it off. Your generic ringtone definitely adds something unique and appreciated to the soundtrack.”

IT’S JUST COMMON COURTESY.

What Not To Ask A College Senior

Here’s a tip to adults, children, high school students, underclassman, elders, basically anyone other than a college senior: The most ANNOYING question you can ask a senior in college is “What are you doing after graduation?”

Do you think we know that? Even if we do have plans, do you think we want to discuss life-after-college with you? Or even THINK about life after college?

Alright, I’m generalizing a bit right now because there are those lucky fellas majoring in finance or something who have had job offers since they were freshmen, and those who somehow have the biggest savings account in the world despite attending a $50k/year private university and are back-packing Asia for a TBA amount of time after graduation, but as for a good portion of us: WE.DO.NOT.KNOW.WHAT.WE.ARE.DOING.COME.MAY.

I realized how much this question bothered me personally today when my neighbor came into my house as I was sitting in my pajama pants at about 1 PM and trolling the interwebz and began asking me questions about post-grad.

*Smiling politely* “I’m not sure yet.”

Neighbor: “What do you mean you’re not sure….? What are you going to do? What can you do?”

Sir, I don’t know what about the phrase “I’m not sure yet” you did not comprehend, but I am not sure yet. I do not know. I have no idea. Is that clear?

Apparently not, because this conversation proceeded the same way for about 5-10 more minutes until I progressively got more aggressive with my answers “I DON’T KNOW!” and my dad chimed in “How about this new moulding on the wall…?” directing the subject away from my pathetic lack of future plans towards our lovely living room decor.

Thanks Dad. Always there to save the day.

It’s not that I don’t enjoy thinking about or even discussing the future, but my future is wide open right now. I am focusing on deadlines for volunteer programs, job searching, internships, places to live, etc in my free time alone.

It seems as though many of my classmates are doing the same over this winter break.

Every time I talk to a fellow-senior, they are in the middle of applying to graduate school, or finishing up a resume, or writing a personal statement for a volunteer program. And the phrase “the uncertainty of my future” comes up almost daily in conversation with them.

We are all uncertain. We are all young. We are in our early twenties. Why do we need to know what what we are doing after graduation? Why do we need to know where we will be a year from now?

We don’t. And we won’t. We are still figuring ourselves out. We are still mid-applications and mid-deadlines and mid-confused.

Let us be. Let us figure ourselves out. Let us be overwhelmed with our possibilities. Why is there so much pressure on us that we need to know who we are supposed to be as a post-grad?

If you are asking us “What are you doing after graduation?” to be nice or out of general interest: that’s fine. But when we say “I’m not sure yet”, let it go. Let us explore and let us figure it out. Give us advice, sure. But don’t be disappointed with our acceptance of the fact that the future is wide open to us.

And for the love of God do not, NOT relentlessly ask us over and over again expecting a different answer. (That’s a sign of insanity according to Einstein. So who’s the unstable one now!?)

But be aware that by asking us “What are you doing after graduation?” you are forcing us to live in the future. It’s my last semester in college. I’ll figure it all out on my own time within this semester, but for now, I’m going to focus on living it up these last few months of freedom I have left. When I’m not physically working on those deadlines and applications, I’d prefer to not have to think or talk about them. I’d rather think or talk about that upcoming concert or the wonderful friends I’ve spent the last four years of college with.

So if I, or any other college senior politely responds “I’m not sure yet”, take a hint that we don’t want to discuss post-graduation plans with you. Not now, not until we have it figured out.

A New Year, A Not-So-New Me

And so we arrive in the year 2013, the year of change as you all make your resolutions to lose weight, be a better person, fall in love, yadda yadda yadda.

My resolution? Keep my sanity as I graduate college and enter the world of “adulthood”. Or should I change that to : Accept the fact that I will be entering the world of “adulthood”? 

I have been attending school for as long as I can remember, from pre-pre school all the way to college. And in May, after 18 years of only knowing how to survive as a student, I will be thrust into the demanding universe of job-finding and paying off all of those student loans.

As I was shopping with mom yesterday, I came to the harsh realization that I am no where near ready to be an adult; not for the stereotypical working-my-life-away-in-order-to-pay-the-bills-lifestyle that I think of when I think of growing older.

We walk into Charlotte Russe where my mom points out a pair of nice dress pants that were on sale. I nod in agreement that they were in fact nice…. and on sale… and without a second glance I run to some brightly colored items hanging on a clearance rack. Needless to say, I walk out of the store with newly purchased leggings and a hot pink bandeau.

Not quite the professional attire that I could wear to the workplace…

Thinking back to all of the things I have bought in the last year, no professional attire, shoes, or accessories were on the list. In fact, I own more tutus than I do dress pants. None of my skirts are length-appropriate, and my shoes are entirely way too high to ever walk into an office.

Is this my way of avoiding the real world? I look more forward to upcoming parties, raves, and festivals than I do graduation day. Graduation is barely even on my radar.

Am I neglecting to purchase or even care about professional attire as some sort of subconscious protest to growing up? I feel as though I am slowly regressing to childhood as opposed to diving in to the excitement that my early twenties can bring.

Or am I simply having an early-twenties-crisis– the common ancestor to the mid-life crisis, but instead is when one is on the brink of their future and they face all of the true potential and opportunities they have, and are so completely overwhelmed and frightened by their own unending possibilities that they refuse to accept or realize them?

It might be a new year, a year of change for all of us, but as of now- I’ll just keep being the same me… dancing around in tutus and colorful bracelets and waiting for the day that I realize where I want to go and who I want to be.

I don’t expect to figure it all out, nor do I expect to have to give up the fun and wonder of my twenties, but I’m excited to go along for the journey as I make mistakes, fail, succeed and learn.