Life at a Standstill

I’m at a standstill already.

I go to work at my part-time retail job. I come home. I sleep. I rinse and repeat.

My days off are spent comfortably on my couch staring at my computer screen.

Searching through countless job listings, rewriting my cover letter, giving up and staring at Reddit for the remainder of the day.

In fact, I stopped looking entirely.

It’s all about who you know in this world, and unfortunately, I don’t know anyone with these connections.

On occasion I see a friend and have a fun few hours.

But.

I don’t see a way out. August will come, and I won’t be packing my bags to join my friends at the little bubble we call college.

It feels like a summer vacation, wasting away my days in the air conditioning.

Yet, that’s the problem.

I’m wasting away my days.

I’m fine with my part-time retail job for this summer. It is allowing me to enjoy my last ‘free’ summer.

Well it should be, if I would take advantage of it.

But

This begs the question:

How long after graduation am I still considered just a ‘recent grad’ as opposed to a ‘failure’ for being career-less?

How much longer do I have to find a job before I’m looked down upon for having a degree, living at home, and only working a part-time retail job?

How much longer until I can escape this pause, and press the play button to resume my life?

I don’t want to sell out.

I just want to find a career, and  be happy with the one I find.

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.

 

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.

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)

Picture 4

(^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….)

46359_10151278336364121_1291796574_n

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.

photo3

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.

Picture 2

 

**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:

9246_1_

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. 

weird1

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…

weird2

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

3. Birthday wan-tan.

weird3

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

4. Birthday Explosion.

weird6

This might be a fire-hazard…

5. College student, or culinary genius?

weird12

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.

523448_10151406537263289_1884483521_n

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

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

weird15

Because that makes perfect sense…

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

 weird14

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

9. Don’t forget your classy table settings.

weird16

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. 

weird17

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… 

 weird18

Rollin’ wit da homiez.

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

weird20

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

13. Moochers gonna mooch.

weird19

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

14. The mathematical equation proving that God exists?

weird10

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

15. That…seems illegal. 

weird9

16. At least we’re all mature here.

weird8

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

17. Fire pit gone horribly wrong.

576690_10151193911648289_556609526_n

Or amazingly right?

18. Kiddie pool on top of deck? 

561531_10151386993248289_363490463_n

Why not? We have “adult” supervision.

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

305952_10151575169828289_190520179_n

But I’m glad they do.

20. My Photo notes.

319083_10151543023958289_1809417661_n

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.

253478_10152090189610597_1724589004_n

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

22. Sudden sleep for women- the new roofie?

weird4

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.