Fifty Shades of I Don't Fuck with You

Things we meant to say on MySpace.  Haters

[50shadesofidfwu]

If You Look At Me I Will Cry and Not Because It’s A Micro-Aggression: A Fourth of July Post

I am not a joiner. I don’t join teams, I don’t join clubs and I have no intention of joining in the nationalist spirit expected of me this weekend. Part of that is because I recently explored the act of budgeting and now I am full of self-loathing. But the other part is that I do not want to see my fellow man this weekend and if I do I will consider it a personal affront. It’s easy to avoid your fellow man on a regular weekend because those seem to fly by and you can use the excuse “sorry I was sleeping” as many times as you want. But in theory if someone texts me on Monday and I tell them I’m catching up on sleep they will not buy it because I’ve already had two days to do that. Even though I enjoy going to church for the natural light, no one will believe that I am going to church for the entire day on Sunday for my faith so that’s a non-option. I could say I am going out of town but my fear of planes and LACK OF FUNDS (still upset with myself) makes that an unlikely story. I am fairly comfortable with fireworks but only when viewed near water and an unfortunate fact about Atlanta is that it seems to be rather landlocked and has been for some time. So I am really not looking forward to this weekend. I intend to celebrate our nation’s birthday with some self-imposed highly isolationist policies and a bureaucratic system of responding to communications (I will be closed this weekend).

P.S. Evidence that this has long been an unhappy weekend for me (bottom right JK THAT S A DAD silly I’m the upper left, the kid)

[50shadesofidfwu]

Glowing Update

Loyal readers,

As you and I both know by now, we cannot count on Emily to do anything. Despite spending most of her time day-drinking and losing her belongings, she still claims she doesn’t have time to help out on this blog. I’m getting a very Marie Antoinette vibe from her these days and honestly I respect it, because I love cake.

Anyways, how have I been? I would say I’m performing between 10-25% for my age group right now. Comfortable in the laid back zone of the bottom quartile of my peers. You would think that would make me tougher but actually that is not the case. On average I cry three times a day, my allergies are worse than ever and I really hate my sheets but I don’t have a washing machine so there’s no point in buying new ones because they will never smell like Seventh Generation lavender.

Right now I’m at the airport, where I’ve been since 7pm just hoping to jaunt home for Easter weekend. Silly me! My flight was delayed until midnight! Oh well, already parked my car in long term parking and bought 30 croissant sandwiches to pass the time. I thought about buying a day pass to the Sky Club (shout-out to my MOM for always being full of good ideas without fully understanding the nature of my problems! Huge fan) but they were closing because turns out it’s late at night and the airport becomes very Night at the Museum around now. So I fled to the international terminal where I remain. Here it is peaceful and a flight attendant and a gate agent are flirting beside me. I keep glancing over my children’s history book at them to see if they are kissing but no action so far.

It’s been a great day, honestly. I got a parking ticket. I’m developing a blister from walking both ways to school in my oversized man Birks. My bob hasn’t looked good in three days and I have no idea what I can do to fix it. My permanent retainer has further detached from half my mouth but I’m not on good terms with my orthodontist so I have no ally to work with there. Classic 21 year old spring stuff! Anyways, I hope your nights are going better than mine. If you hear from Emily, send her my regards and remind her of the password to this Tumblr. xoxo.

[50shadesofidfwu]

Darwin is for Lovers

Recently I’ve been browsing this cute lil’ 500 page book about anxiety and it has not ceased to delight me! The main lesson I have learned so far is that Charles Darwin and I have a lot in common. Here is why: from 1831-1836 Darwin sailed around the world on the appropriately named ship The Beagle. He saw all kinds of cool things such as finches and finches that looked like other finches and yet more finches that looked like both those other finches. I’m assuming he also met pirates, fell in love, got sea sick and wrote a one man show about self-discovery while he was at sea for 5 years but those facts are unconfirmed. Anyways, he did the damn thing and made it home and everyone was like, “wow how was traveling the world and science?” And do you know what Darwin said? Darwin said “actually [MOM] it was rlly hard and now I am NOT leaving my room for the next 8 years.” And he didn’t, because he got agoraphobia and couldn’t. This DELIGHTS me because finally someone understands my life! Here is my story in parallel to Darwin’s: I studied abroad in Vienna for 4 months, discovered evolution, and came back to college where everyone keeps asking “how was abroad?” and I respond that I am terrified of everything and never plan to go to a party again. So big D (also Angela’s nickname for Dwight on The Office but that’s beside the point) and I could not have more in common, especially in terms of intellect and time spent on a boat. I really wish Darwin could be with me right now at Emory so he could say things like, “hey why did you go to Cox today it was full of strange people with spooky expressions and sushi that tastes like an aquatic trashcan?” or "don’t bring your scooter to class unless you want your professor to say he wants one too and try to bond with you over things that make being 55 more fun.” But sadly, Darwin was not there and I did not come across one person to substitute his role (this would have been made more tolerable had I seen Emily even once today but alas). So I googled this cute pic and I think of it often, because Darwin is for lovers and if we met I think we would be fast friends. 

[50shadesofidfwu]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY EMILY

Dearest Emily Joaquin Phoenix Codine,

You are now 21 years old! Coincidentally, we have now known each other for 21 months. What is the math term for this? Conspiracy? Probably. In theory you have been alive for 252 months, and since I have known you for 21 of them, that means we have been friends for 12% of your life (someone check those numbers). What a happy 12% of life it has been! Here are some of the highlights: 

Month 1: April, 2014

We meet in emergency circumstances: both of us are (by cruel twists of fate) heading to PCB for frat formals and you don’t have a single pair of swimsuit bottoms to your name! Luckily, this stranger feels comfortable sharing hers with you. 

Our first picture ever, a classic portrait of two charming young women aiming to do only what is good and right on Eagle Row. 

Month 2: May, 2014

There are about 15 stories from this month that I would like to tell but due to respect for human dignity (ours) I cannot. Instead just assume we studied a lot for finals and I helped you move out.

Month 3: June-July, 2014

These months get grouped together because we barely talked since we weren’t really friends yet but I thought of you often and brainstormed conversation topics for if/when I would see you again next semester. 

Month 4: August, 2014

We reunite and become real friends! One negative aspect of this was you tricking me into taking a certain South American history class with you which turned into a REAL DOOZY but brought us closer together overall. 

Month 5: September, 2014

You take the school by storm and purchase your best possession to this day. 

“It ain’t trickin if you got it.” 

Month 6: October, 2014

This month was jam packed with memories! Some I hold dear to my heart, like our first fight which was my fault and I’m still sorry about what I said...and the amazing birthday present you got me which I love so much...and the heartbreaks that pushed both of us to head for North Carolina where perhaps people would be nicer and things would be more bearable. 

The juxtaposition of my knuckle hair with this delicate ring gives me chills.

Month 7: November, 2014

Still in North Carolina and better for it! We drove back to Georgia listening only to pirated versions of Taylor Swift that you had on your computer and looking out for hop-ons. 

Month 8: December, 2014

Sertao. That’s all I have to say about that.

Month 9: January, 2015

You think you’re hot shit because you got asked to a date-party but I am underwhelmed by that and still expect you to come minister to me in my dorm room because “I am not sure what’s happening and I don’t think I can walk.” 

Oh, and we did some extracurriculars this month that were fun.

Month 10: February, 2015

I can’t remember anything significant but I feel this graph applies:

Month 11: March, 2015

This very blog was founded!

Month 12: April, 2015

Bed Fort 2k15 and don’t you forget it!

Month 13: May, 2015

May means exam time, which means no sleep for 2 weeks, which led delightfully into our road trip back to our nation’s greatest state. 

You lactating at the thought of leaving Emory (whether this is good or bad I cannot tell).

Month 14: June, 2015

You get a niece/we bought a zoo!

Month 15: July, 2015

Eh, who knows. We corresponded by letter and worked a lot.

Month 16: August, 2015

We reunite in Austria! We consider buying these leather crop tops to wear as friendship uniforms but they fit one of us better than the other (which one??)

Month 17: September, 2015

Still in Austria (or are these memories of me and your clone I can’t remember).

Month 18: October, 2015

You somehow 1-upped your last birthday gift to me and gave me the best gift of my whole life! I am working on returning the favor but you drive a hard bargain: a room full of handwritten notes from my friends? If it wasn’t so wonderful I would consider it suspicious. 

Month 19: November, 2015

Thanksgiving is for lovers. This isn’t nearly as romantic as other pictures I have of you eating meat, though.

Month 20: December, 2015

Berlin 2k15 + you bought a fur! Smelled as good as it looked

Month 21: January, 2016

Here we stand! I hope you enjoyed my account of our friendship these past many months. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: you’re my best friend and meeting you is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. Happy birthday! I love you! I’ll talk to you soon!

[50shadesofidfwu]

Song of Myself (Austrian Edition)

Despite this blog being established for the sole purpose of keeping a record of our study abroad experience, Emily and I elected not to use it even one time while living in Austria this past semester. Why? Myriad reasons (what does that mean?) One reason was that Emily only received limited wifi access on her brand new iPhone, so it was often difficult to find her and talk. 

But other times we were together and still didn’t blog. I think this was because so much of our daily life was spent getting in fights with uptight Austrian women about who’s mink coat was nicer than who’s, or who had more of a right to use the handicapped seat on the subway, or who was allowed to sing and dance to Nick Jonas where. So during these daily battles we just didn’t have time to whip out our computers and start the creative process.

Covered in rain and drunk is what we looked like most of the time in Vienna, which is possibly why we got into so many scuffles with the upper class. 

Plus, we were separated by an entire castle all semester. Emily lived on the fancy side of Schonbrünn Palace, while I lived on the more commercial/urban sprawl side of things. There were great things about where both of us lived. Emily’s apartment was up in the trees and looked out over a beautiful garden. My apartment was a former dentist’s office and the building itself was a bank. Different horses for different courses! Somehow Emily still ended up with better dental hygiene and finances, though. What can you do!

Picture of Emily and I fighting over socioeconomic status in Vienna:

One of our best experiences together in Europe was our trip to Berlin. Originally Emily was going to go to Berlin alone for the cost of $60, but I booked two days before she went for a less good price. Who knows where to go and when to commit? Not I! Anyways, Berlin was a very good time. I cried on the flight and train ride there, which I knew would happen (I run nervous). Emily met me in Alexanderplatz with a sandwich in hand and a clear idea of how to deal with my attitude, which was a relief because I still don’t know how to respond to that thing. We patrolled the city by foot that night and by bike the next day. Emily even had the fine idea to take our bikes on the subway on a Saturday night, which took under 2 hours and won us the (unwanted) attention of 5 German men dressed as Native Americans. A good time was had by all. Really the only difficult part of the weekend was that Emily only brought one glove so one of her hands was constantly throbbing. I considered that an added benefit to my experience. 

This image contains all the important sights of Berlin + what I can only imagine is Emily preparing to wipe me down after a long day. Neutrogena wipes are so useful.

Reflecting on fond memories is fun. However, now that we’re back in America and only one of us is of legal drinking age we find ourselves with very little in common. Our friendship had a good run but we both agree it’s best to see other people when we get back to school. Thanks for the good times, Eastern Europe! 

[50shadesofidfwu]

4 Hours in Vienna

Since I arrived in Austria for study abroad 4 hours ago, I consider myself an expert on Viennese culture, so it’d behoove (¿a word?) you to follow my lead exactly if you or your loved ones are planning a similar trip:

1. Austrian Air exclusively plays TV in German, shows about the culinary scene in Singapore (didn’t understand a word but loved the visuals!), and The Big Bang Theory, so prepare yourself emotionally for that.

2. The trains and subways are easy to navigate and fun, but the streets are not, bleeding through your socks while wearing your most comfortable shoes is encouraged. 

3. Never trust a man called Bilge on Air B & B, he will lead you astray!

4. If you choose to go against my advice and rely on Bilge, make sure you pop into the many bars open at 11 am, which seem to be the only place that supply Wifi here, to communicate with him when he neglects to tell you how to get to his home. 

5. When Bilge doesn’t reply to you and you’re stuck wandering the streets of Vienna, get drunk of g’spritzers (it’s legal here so get off my tail, feds!)

6. Your sixth aperol spritz will feel too heavy to lift after 24 hours of travel, so ask for a long straw, you deserve it. 

7. Sammy please get to this country because I am afraid and du bist mein einziger Freund der Deutsch spricht (I google translated this so I don’t know if it’s right/I really wish I had considered going to a Spanish speaking country)

8. After a full day of travel and 23 spritzers, basic tasks like making numbered lists will be really hard. Also where can I eat something and what are euros?

[50shadesofidfwu]

Summer in Review

Summer 2015 started off strong. Well it less started off strong as started off with us drinking strong McDonald’s coffee at 3am trying to get to Louisville before dawn, but still I consider on these first few days a success.

I figured it would take a little while to adjust to living at home again, but I did not expect to be living with my parents in such close proximity. Still, the weather was nice and I didn’t have exams, so I was happy to be home. 

By June, however, things began to deteriorate mentally for both of us. 

First, there was denial: 

Then, a renaissance of teen angst:

There was bargaining:

Some masked despair:

And finally, acceptance:

Overall, we’re both ready summer to end and fall to begin. Especially because neither of us will have work permits in the EU which means pretty soon we will be sitting at coffeeshops and feeling secondhand guilt when we ask our waiter to split the check. As my wise friend Emily once said, “The hardest thing about being a democrat is the guilt.” That has nothing to do with anything but this is my blog and I determine the realms of it’s content so do with that what you may. Bye bye (McGloughlin voice)!

[50shadesofidfwu]

Travel and Leisure

I don’t follow many blogs because what could I possibly learn from a blog that isn’t my own, but I’ve seen enough to know that bloggers are really into showing you “Vacation Essentials”. In these lists of cellulite firming lotions and rosehip toning facial spray that are considered by both bloggers and the UN to be basic human rights, I found nothing that was at all useful when I found myself in a Guatemalan airport with a text that read “how are you getting home from the airport when you get back to the US?”

Now if I had been living in a normal city for the summer, instead of an isolated commune in western North Carolina accessible from the airport only by car, and my helicopter wasn’t getting reupholstered by my textile girl, this wouldn’t have sent me into the waves of panic that it did. To understand why not knowing how I’d get home from the airport made you so nervous you have to know two things: 1. Everything makes me nervous, 2. My family had told me they were making the trip out to get me, but somehow mistook which day I was coming home and did the sensible thing and just drove the 3 hours to pick me up on the wrong day instead of emailing me ahead of time to ask when my flight came in. So my only option was to take a bus from the airport in Atlanta. During my 5 hour layover in Ft. Lauderdale I bought my ticket with Turimex bus service, a line that makes daily trips to and through Mexico, but happened to stop at Plaza Fiesta in Atlanta and at Guadalajara Market in scenic Traveler’s Rest, South Carolina.

A legitimate bus station/meat market/nightclub

 With the peace of mind that comes from owning a Mexican bus ticket, I got into an Uber from the airport at 1 am. Great drive, very scenic, my driver got lost and mentioned: “So I don’t want to scare you but I went to prison for a while”. Still unsure why that was his main talking point, at the time I was more focused on figuring out why my bus ticket had two different times printed on it. I thought I dodged a bullet when I called the bus service and they affirmed the earlier time was correct. Carrying my suitcase, I took the public bus to my bus stop and was deposited outside Follies, a welcome sight because I and any other red blooded Atlantan* know it as “Atlanta’s Sexiest Club”.

For more info see the song “Buss It” by Cap-1 ft. Travis Porter

A street man followed me for a while from the bus stop and asked “Why all goddamn women are so fucking stupid?” a question I am sorry to say I just didn’t have the answer to because I am a stupid woman, incapable of achieving this man’s reasoning/people skills. When I arrived at the Mexican outlet mall the bus left from (highly recommend Plaza Fiesta if anyone is looking for some good food or a quince dress, I’m usually looking for both) I was informed that actually my bus didn’t leave for another 6 hours. 

My bus wasn’t there but these ride atop stuffed animals were

Luckily for me there was a horrifying circus in the parking lot of Plaza Fiesta. I know it was horrifying because I’ve had the great misfortune of going to the Hermanos Vazquez circus more than once and this one also appeared to be fundamentalist Christian themed, which finally explains the most confusing Beatitude: Blessed Are the Carnies for they shall inherit the earth.

(a lot more devious than this colorful photo would lead you to believe!!!)

 When I had almost given up and decided to move into Plaza Fiesta permanently, my bus arrived. As I settled into the bus seat crusted over with a substance not unlike vomit to unwind in front of the documentary I had downloaded about Pablo Escobar’s son outrunning the ghost of his father’s memory, I got a call from one of my jobs asking why I wasn’t at work. (Word to the wise: do not bite into fruit peels while abroad if you don’t enjoy being ill in airports, strip malls turned bus stops, or the closet of a bathroom in a Turimex bus ☺ ) 

*I am not from Atlanta and I do not frequent strip clubs*

Me having fun on vacation!

[50shadesofidfwu]

Let’s Talk About Boiz

For the past few days I’ve been trying to decide what topic to write about next, but it was hard to choose between my top two ideas: anxiety and boys. Then I realized they go perfectly together in real life so I might as well just combine them into one flattering post! So here we go:

Lots of boys make me anxious. Emily and I both decided long ago (via our life coach Andrea) that the only type of males who didn’t make us anxious were shy dads. We love shy dads! We love meeting them, we love just walking by and saying hi, we’d even choose them to co-star our reality show above any other potential character. But sadly, not all guys are as cool as shy dads. 

In my neck of the woods, 99% of guys are not cool like shy dads and therefore make me nervous. That is really rude of them considering a lot of stuff makes me nervous already (especially flying in a plane, otherwise known as being “airborne,” and green vegetables). But they do it anyways and I am left to suffer! A lot of the time boiz think they are being nice by like talking to me or smiling but here is the trick, my default state of mind is imagining that I am invisible so when you talk to me or try to get my attention I have to exist in reality which is not what I was going for originally with my day. Very simple stuff that I feel like all humans should be on the same page about! 

The point is, most boiz don’t get this part of my personality so they try to talk to me and most of the time it goes really bad and I wish they would refrain. I am really comfortable talking to dogs, kids, most women (not blondes tbh) and all chairs that I run into and need to apologize to. But I just really am not in a place in my life right now where I want to talk to boiz. Twenty is the main year of your life to be single and socially awkward, elders have been saying this for generations! Leave the flirting and socializing for your forties when you have nothing better to do. 

Here is how I foresee my future:

20 (current): I’m invisible and I’m also channeling a really androgynous wardrobe right now and feeling great about that.

21: I’m going abroad and I’m going to date the guy who gave me my visa while I’m there cuz he was really cute and didn’t even try to talk to me that much when he gave it to me cuz he knew I was 20/invisible/androg and respected/loved that about me

22: Come back to America and get a hammock and spend my weekends being in my hammock that fits only one. Probably read and listen to a lot of jazz and just a lil’ bit of Migos here and there.

22.5: Oh my god best idea ever date all of Migos via my hammock we can FaceTime while they are on tour!

23: Break up with Migos because having 3 boyfriends is too demanding and go back to being single/maybe androg again I love my Birks and I don’t feel bad about it

24: I am going to be employed in a really high paying job by this year in my life so that means it’s time to invest in real estate. I’m going to buy the pine tree and lavender farm that I’ve always dreamed of and consider going out for lunch dates with nearby farmers but no promises

25: I should have made a bitcoin or two by now so quit the city job and move to the farm full time. Make myself available to dinners dates with farmers at this point

26: Quit my job as a farmer and pay it forward by teaching illiterate middle schoolers how to read (wish someone had done this for me)

27: Meet my soul mate, get married, move back to my farm and raise pine trees, lavender and kiddos for the rest of my days

Thank you for reading my life plan and please leave me alone til age 21 unless you are not a boy or not a blonde (or god forbid, both!)

PS:

[50shadesofidfwu]

Non-Slip Sneakers aka How to Lose a Job in 10 Days

A few months ago, in the midst of exams and moving out, both of us realized we did not have any job prospects for the summer. Sure, we had voicemails from Goldman Sachs and Merrill Lynch (respectively) with decent offers, but we knew we could do better. Thus began our careers in the world of food service. So from the Wild Wild (mid) West to the smelly Southern hippie commune I’m living in, we’ve traded in crying in the library bathroom to crying in the bathrooms of our respective restaurants. 

Life in the restaurant world is not unlike life in Gossip Girl: highly social and intimidating. Luckily, we have made all the mistakes for you in the past several weeks so that you don’t have to learn the lessons the hard way like us. Note: learning lessons the hard way was really new to both of us, as were the emotions of embarrassment and anxiety, so don’t underestimate what a valuable learning experience we took on for you. 

Tips for success:

1. Comfort shoes are a must if you’re bussing or hosting. However, pride is also a must, and because I live in comfort shoe central, I refuse to comply with the trend and wear heels to every shift. The searing pain is a great distraction and on the upside I finally relate to Lil Wayne’s song “I Feel Like Dying.”

2. If you, like my counterpart, are more sensible (read: less masochistic) I suggest investing in some Shoes for Crews, non-slip Sketchers (often with beautiful velcro detailing!) or Crocs, which I’m 100% on board with and have been from the start despite sabotage attempts from those closest to me. 

2a. I’ve started a diary of Chaco sightings around town. So far my count is at 1 billion, send me an anonymous tip if you have any more information.

3. If you ever get really whelmed, just take a little breather in the bathroom. Muffle the sounds of nervous crying with your apron to maintain your cool and collected reputation. 

4. Lick each fork before placing on the table for a sparkle and shine that will really *wow* customers. 

5. If you don’t know a coworker’s name, never ask! It’s the only way to establish dominance in a restaurant. Always have a list of nicknames on hand to appear relaxed and familiar. Good suggestions: monsieur, Papa Bear, kiddo (esp. popular if you’re at least 10 years younger than all your coworkers like me!), Academy Award Winner and author of Goop Gwyneth Paltrow (a great gender-neutral moniker), Hickory Ham Mike, Judy Moody and the Not So Bummer Summer (if someone’s being a grumpy Gus). 

6. If you’re hosting at an expensive restaurant, say “Welcome to Applebee’s!” to punk your guests and get some pre-dinner LOLs and high-fives going.  

7. Pretty much your entire income is based on tips so if you need to pull out the “stripper whose rent is due tomorrow” moves, by all means go ahead!

8. Having massive hands is a blessing when carrying 6 glasses at once, lacking any sense of human coordination is not. Definitely start practicing speed and agility using those ladder things I’ve seen people using (from afar while I consumed a cheese plate) in a variety of parks. 

9. If sarcasm comes naturally to you, try to fight it off while you’re on the clock because your customers are likely not going to get your jokes. Especially not the classic one where you tell a man he looks like a woman (secretly that joke worked for me but I wouldn’t try it again cuz there were a few seconds there where I thought I was gonna get fired).

10. This is all a joke and if anyone reads it plz don’t fire us!

Sincerely,

Blair and Serena (if they picked abstract humanities majors and didn’t get the internships they wanted)

[50shadesofidfwu]

Living with Your Parents is Great, Especially if You Like Wine

As I write this post, I am sitting on the couch in the family room of my house. That’s fun because at college there are not family rooms but in childhood homes there usually are. It’s also fun because I am usually in here alone watching Broad City while my parents go out to various events in the city. It’s a pretty glam space to reassess my individuality and style. For example, there are three pieces of art hanging in this room. One I would describe as, “canvas covered in mud and melted crayolas.” I’m not sure why my mom bought that one because it is composed of actual trash. On the next wall there is a series of baby pictures of my sister and I. No criticism there, that area is flawless. Then over the fireplace there is some kind of digital mixed media piece reminiscent of a graveyard in a forest. Cozy! Oh, I should also mention the life sized bronze statue of what appears to be a Native American hunter grabbing an eagle from the sky (not kidding) which is directly behind me. A scary sight at night! Anyways, sitting in this space gives me a lot to think about. Mainly, why am I here? Why are all my other friends living in apartments already and getting cool jobs? Why is one of my dogs so mad at me that she leaves every room I enter? There’s a lot of processing to be done this summer.

There are a lot of perks about living with your parents, but it turns out there are also some drawbacks. I appreciate how often my dad likes to call me, but it is difficult when he calls me at the same time every day asking if I want to go to spin class when he knows I am at work. He gets really mad when I don’t answer and then when I get home he always demands I give him my money as an apology. The solution to this is to be in credit card debt because then you literally can’t give your money away! So that’s where I’m at economically this summer.

It’s not all bad though. My parents are really generous with wine and most foods (unfortunately generosity goes both ways and they are always eating my ice cream). Plus my mom is awesome and she gave me a foot massage on my first day of work when I wore flats to my restaurant job (PSA don’t do that I still have blisters and it was 3 weeks ago). I think my parents appreciate having me at home too, because I bring a lot to the table. The other day my dad put on my mom’s pants and tried to leave the house but don’t worry I caught him first and made him change. Plus my mom prefers to do her makeup in my bathroom because apparently there is more generous lighting in there. There is also 360 degrees of trippy bird wallpaper in that room despite my fear of birds, so it’s pretty much her space now anyways. All in all, living with your parents is great (if you have no other options) and I would recommend it (if your parents are negligent about the inventory of their wine cabinet). 

[50shadesofidfwu]

Great Dairy Tour of 2015

Following an exam period that can be best understood by referring to our former post about the benefits of a daily cry, we said sayonara to campus life and hit the road. The main goal was to make it from school to home on 2 hours of sleep (between the two of us) and a McDonald’s coffee (NOT a latte, they ran out). The secondary goal was to take advantage of the ice cream opportunities this nation's dairy land provides. 

Things we learned on the run:

It’s impossible to pack a room in an hour if a. you haven’t slept in days and b. your floor is almost 100% comprised of pennies and loose socks

Crying while you pack is embarrassing but I stand by it and I’d do it again

Packing is expedited by a firm “all socks must go” policy

If your friend throws away one of your prized Crocs, it’s okay to look in the trash for its brother Croc  

Sometimes you have to give up, wait for traffic to wane, drink multiple smoothies to replenish vital nutrients you’ve denied your body during finals week, and hope you don’t die while traversing dimly-lit mountain passes

Sometimes people are shoeless in McDonald’s. Act natural!

Migos is a potent anti-drowsiness medicine while behind the wheel, but ABBA will do in a pinch

You have to be 21 to sleep in some Red Roof Inns. Don’t ask if you can use a fake ID, they will not entertain the idea!

Chik-Fil-A breakfast can help numb the pain of sleeping in a highway-adjacent ground floor motel room which was not accurately described in the TripAdvisor reviews

Indiana should receive more fame for being the nation’s largest state (it’s true when explored by wheel rather than by satellite)

I’d pick sleeping in an assisted living home over a Red Roof Inn any day

When the time comes for me to reside in an old folks home, I’d like to and I intend to make a name for myself as the HBIC and be feared/respected by my cohabitants. Just a personal preference.

It’s fun in a road trip scenario if only one person drives the whole way because the other one “doesn’t have faith in her motor skills right now but check back tomorrow” 

Food is not to be eaten while road tripping unless you can actively feel yourself becoming weighed down by its fat and sugar content

A ButterBurger washed down with frozen custard will fortify you mentally, physically, and spiritually

All tolls cost a minimum of $30 per state, so maybe you should have saved those pennies from move-out day instead of including them in the all-socks-must-go policy

It is possible to drive under a tornado cloud before the funnel cloud hits the ground if you try hard enough

The further north, the fewer Snapchat geotags (here’s looking at you Canada)

The appropriate song for arriving at your destination is now and forever shall be “Hombre Religioso”

All road trips should end with gin and juice and a surprise dad sleeping at home when he said he would be in China

Peace, love and cream-based meals <3

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=52kxR94b9_0

[50shadesofidfwu]

State of the Union

Over today’s business lunch (extra large peanut butter cookie) we decided to call Zaya’s directly and demand answers about this university’s embarrassing lack of ice cream. Negotiation was tense (BIG shoutout to the lady who works there in the afternoons for being a real one/acting like calling Zaya’s is normal), but you’ll be relieved to hear that the ice cream selection has been restored in full! Our dignity, less so. 

Stay Ray Charles to the bullshit/doctors who try to dupe you into thinking things like “vegetables” or “blood sugar” exist

[50shadesofidfwu]

Things I Would Like You To Do (So I Don’t Have To Do Them)

Do you ever have days where you have a lot of ideas about good things you could do but then it starts raining and you go home and eat popcorn and listen to jazz in your night sweats? One way of how you can save energy and still get shit done is to outsource. If you are reading this, here are some things we would like to change about the world that we don’t have the energy/outfit to do right now, but we would really appreciate it if you did them for us:

1) Karate chop all the couples who walked around campus holding hands today. Either karate chop directly through their clasped hands or more towards their faces. Say nothing.

2) Write all my papers and do all my readings. Some of them will be dry but others will be quite thought provoking (Pre-Socratic philosophy). This is a fun one because while you do it I can read Gone Girl and think of ways to reword my favorite rap songs so that they are dog-centric.

3) Make me a salad. I haven’t had a vegetable in weeks and I’m really worried about my cholesterol. No kale and absolutely NO SEEDS. 

4) That reminds me, start a movement to ban seeds from being added to foods. Seeds are disgusting and similar to nuts in texture. Unnecessary and an immediate day ruiner.

5) Figure out some solution to this school’s blatant staring problem. Staring is not a thing. Be a normal person when you walk around campus. Do not make eye contact with strangers and then refuse to break it. Seriously. Stop.

6) Go back in time and slap the person on the head who invented E-mail because it has caused a net-negative impact on the world ever since. Except for AIM I guess that was a positive externality. 

7) This is a big one: get in touch with the Neopets HQ office so that I can get back into my 4th grade account. I had a Chombie and a baby Aisha, but I forgot the password and they haven’t been fed in 10 years (they are PISSED). 

8) Dedicate more time to Rapchat. You are getting really good but practice makes perfect. YMCMB doesn’t sign just anybody.

9) PSA: Zaya’s no longer has ice cream and clearly has no intention of ever selling it again since the light is off in the ice cream house. See photo below. Please write petition to Ben & Jerry asking them to skip the middle man this time and deliver goods directly to Clifton Towers room 666.

10) Get people to stop writing the following combinations of words on any surface, let alone the side of a cooler:

Get Dressed Up to Get Messed Up (you should have other incentives for that). Land of the Free, Home of the Rage (I don’t think the founding fathers ever heard of Wave). Outrageous? Always. Out Rage Us? Never (you know nothing of rage). Guys in Ties, Girls in Pearls (are you insinuating your guy wears ties to the beach? Sounds like a real square). Drink, Drank, Drunk (please do so more privately). Sky’s Out, Thighs Out (put those away immediately). Back to Back World War Champs (fairly certain you’re not a veteran). Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Frattiness (just fuck right off).

Thanks for reading bye forever please don’t contact us unless you have more info about #9

[50shadesofidfwu]

On Crying

I read an article the other day about crying. I read it because my mom sent it to me as relevant information to my life but that’s beside the point. The article started off by listing some of the benefits of crying: it cleans our eyes, it decreases levels of certain hormones that make us feel bad, it shows we are social creatures. I was all about this: hell yea crying is the best we should all do it more and not stare at other people when they do it in public. Social norms etc. But then I got to this statistic: on average, women cry 47 times per year and men cry 7. I am not all about this. Crying is honestly one of my extracurriculars. I’m really good at it and very dedicated to making time and space for it in my life. I cry when I’m happy, I cry when I’m sad, I cry when I try to do math...all in a day’s work. So why are men only crying 7 times a year? They are missing out big time on a very crucial element of human behavior. Are they not crying because they are not sad? That seems very unlikely. Life is sad. One time I got a free chipotle burrito and then I dropped it walking home and it fell out of its tinfoil and rolled straight into a puddle. There’s no way this doesn’t happen to guys too. So, I have taken it upon myself to list some times and places where crying is a really good thing to do and you should try it if you are below the national average of tears/year. 

1) I think it’s really important to cry every time you hear the soundtrack to Up. Specifically if its the music from the scene where the wife dies. So you could try that.

2) If you maybe accomplish something really big like getting a shot and then you go to the grocery store and pick up a cake for yourself and then you come home and some ASSHOLE has taken a PIECE of your CAKE without ASKING because they KNOW the answer would be NO, you should fucking sob. This has happened to me countless times and I know for a fact crying is the only way to get over it.

3) If you have a crush on someone and then they reject you in public near a field. Not that this happened to me but if it did I think crying would be a very rational response.

4) If you are in an airplane and there is even a slight bump, just let it out. The plane is going down, we know this to be true, and there’s no point in holding it in. Like Nick says in New Girl, “We should all take trains because the sky is too fickle. It’s the play place of butterflies.”

5) When you try to eat a salad. You know you are going to hate it! Why not cry about it?

6) Every single time you say goodbye someone at an airport.

7) If you’ve never cried while listening to Drake either you are weird or I am, and honestly it’s pretty far fetched that I would be the weird one in any situation.

8) If someone makes you go to Israel and then they are like JK we are going to Jordan and you’re like um not really what was on the original itinerary and then your dad tries to sell you to a solider in exchange for a camel. I cannot confirm if this story is T/F/happened over winter break

9) Mr. Rogers is dead. That fucking sucks. Think about that. That’s just the worst. He was a fucking homie and now he is gone. Not to mention all the hipsters that have stolen his cardigans I mean it’s a travesty. 

10) If none of the above reasons apply to you, you should cry because you’re probably a robot and your mom lied to you about being a real kid and now you know the truth and deception hurts and so does having metal knees. 

Best of luck with your future endeavors (good way to end a sext as well as a blog post)! 

JoCo addition: I really want to add a picture of her crying over eating salad, but respect her as a woman/she has threatened to “rip out each hair on my head individually” for lesser offenses. Just know that these pictures exist.

[50shadesofidfwu]

Tribute to Pitbull

Hello loyal followers, 

If you’re disloyal, just get up out my trap house right now. For those of you who can prove your dedication to the cause, pay us 6 mil pesos and you can continue to read. We are hyper-aware of Internet safety, so we will be using pseudonyms on this blog. We are Hallie and Annie, a reference to the groundbreaking performance of Lindsay Lohan in the 1998 remake of the family classic, The Parent Trap. Technically, Lindsay is just one person, but if you’re reading this blog you’re well aware of her ability to super-humanly portray two entirely different women. 

Enough about us, we’ll be moving onto today’s post, which also centers around ourselves and our opinions, which are facts. We’re here today to tell you that the song of the century is “The Time of Our Lives” by Pitbull, ft. Ne-Yo. There are several reasons why, and we’ve taken it upon ourselves to enlighten those who have been in the dark.

Reason 1: Pitbull’s head shape.

Reason 2: The soulful quality of Ne-Yo’s voice.

Reason 3: We reach perfect vocal harmony often, much like the dynamic duo in the song. 

Reason 4: We like the way Pitbull elongates repeated vowels (see: “loooooooseee”, “droooop”).

Reason 5: We frequently have trouble paying our rent on time, despite requests for Siri to remind us. 

We’ve realized how strong these last points are, so we’ll leave you with that. If you like the services we offer, feel free to follow us (we won’t follow back if you want your blog kept private, but if you’d like us to we can work that out). Check back in for frequent updates, lest you get lost in this CRAZY world alone. 

Genie nod, ball out. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bTXJQ5ql5Fw