You Heard It Here First

Piercings are one of those things in which there’s a fine line between classy and trashy. While I do understand that people shouldn’t be judged by their appearances, we all know that everyone makes their first impressions about a person based on what they look like and how they act.

If you’ve ever been outside the comfort of your home you’ve probably seen all kinds of piercings on just about every part of people’s bodies. I’m not judging anyone who might be reading this blog and has an, ahem, not so common piercing, but it just continues to fascinate me how far some people are willing to go. Ear piercings I understand. Most girls and a good amount of guys have their ears pierced nowadays, and in many cultures it’s tradition to get a female baby’s ears pierced soon after they’re born. Bellybutton and nose piercings are pretty popular too. But other things I just can’t understand

For example, getting your hip pierced. Yes, this is an actual thing that people do. Why would you want a little metal pin in your hip? You couldn’t wait for the hip replacement you’re going to need in 50 years? Even more… interesting (I’m trying not to judge people. I’m really trying.)… are elbow piercings. Yes, it’s happening people, and remember- you heard it here first. Elbow. Piercings. I would just like to know how this happens. Does the piercing hit your funny bone? Is it like having the reaction to a funny bone, but 24/7? Because let’s be honest, that would be pretty damn hilarious.

Another weird place people get pierced is on their fingers. Or specifically, through their fingers. First off, that sounds really fucking painful. Second, WHY? Why in hell do you need a rod going through the tip of your phalanges? You don’t. You really don’t at all. Do people with these outrageous piercings actually get jobs? I can totally imaging them going in for job interviews, doing really well, getting the job, and about to sign a job contract when… BOOM! Mr. Boss sees their finger piercings as they’re signing on the dotted line, and no more employment for you buster.

One of the most useful piercings I’ve seen is in between your eyes. A random stud, right above your nose. Now this one I can actually see the benefit in. Just imagine this situation: you have terrible eyes, but your nose is too damn low to support glasses. No worries! Just get a piercing higher above your nose, and voila! Problem solved. See? Not all unusual piercings are bad. Just most of them are.

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Excuse Me For Being Thrifty

         Change is such a surprising thing. One instant, you have no cash, and five minutes and a quick under-the-couch-cushions-check later you're $1.50 richer. It's like magic. As children, we all had our change jars or piggy banks that we filled up with our parents' spare nickels and pennies, or, more often, buttons and pieces of string. The point is, after filling up our magic cash boxes to the brim we'd eventually open them and let all the change spill out, and get all excited about how much money (and other random treasures) we'd saved up. And, yeah, a quick run to the bank would show that in reality the amount we had saved was closer to $30 then the $300 you were imagining, but still. 

         The unfortunate truth of life is that it's so much easier for younger kids to collect cash. Nowadays, if you're older then the age of eight, and you try to pick up a quarter from the sidewalk you'll get dirty looks from mothers who probably think their own sticky-fingered child is more entitled to the twenty-five cents in your hand than you are. Like excuse me for being thrifty, times are tough. Bitch. Regardless of what the damn sidewalk mothers think, I would advise all you streetwalkers out there to continue to be your money-loving selves. Keep scanning the pavements for whatever change you can scrounge up, and throw it into your change jar- whether it be labeled "Shoe Savings" "Beer Money" or "Car Cash". It's most likely to be the third one, seeing as if you're collecting change off the sidewalk you're most likely a pedestrian and don't have a car. But hell, whatever floats your money boat I guess.

         One of the biggest fun-ruiners nowadays is the automatic cash counter. If you, like me, are a fellow informercial watcher, you probably know exactly what I'm talking about. Lately they've been marketing a change-counting money jar that counts your money as you put it in. Some might say that this is a very useful invention, and it'll be so time-saving and blah blah blah. No. Why on earth would you want to know how much cash you've saved up? WHY?! That defeats the entire damn purpose. Where's the fun in that? Trick question. There isn't any. The whole point of having a piggy bank in the first place is so that you can be thrilled and excited when you find out how much money is in there at the end. Not so you can see your money steadily increasing- that just promotes greed. Inventions like these are probably the reason we're going through such an economic recession right now. I blame the automatic cash counter. 

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You Probably Drive A Minivan

The jeans a person wears can say a lot about his or her personality. Being a basic staple of everyone’s wardrobe, people alter their jeans to fit their lifestyles and personal style choices. What do your jeans say about you?

1. Flare jeans- if you wear flared jeans, chances are high that you have extreme hippie-like tendencies. You should probably take a few minutes to just reevaluate the decisions you’ve made in your life, and maybe make some changes. Go take a shower and buy a cell phone. Put down your blunt and get a goddamn job. Welcome to the 21^st century darling.
2. Destroyed jeans- the name of these jeans itself provides an extremely negative image of a roadside hobo with only the jeans on his ass and a cardboard box to his name. These jeans are not to be worn in public, unless there’s a kickass story that goes with them and you want to brag a little. For example, if you were in a major shark attack while wearing your jeans and the shark shredded the denim into 40 different pieces, you are fully entitled to strut your threadbare jeans down the street and tell your amazing story to anyone who passes by.
3. Straight jeans- you’re a 40-something mother. You probably drive a minivan. You wear sneakers. Your best years are behind you. Sorry not sorry.
4. Embellished jeans- if your jeans have studs or sequins covering the ass region, you’re most likely no older then 13. Hopefully you’re a female, but hey, no judging. Because you spend all day in your training bra on your iPhone with your other middle school friends, you probably think you’re hot shit. Every time you sit down the gems on the butt of your jeans leave painful little imprints on your butt, but you’re, like, the most, like, popular girl in school so you just suck it up and wave to all your tween fans.
5. Low-rise jeans- you’re either a desperate hoe looking for attention or you have a naughty tramp stamp you want to show off. Everyone can see your bright pink thong, but we’re all so thankful that you’re even wearing underwear that we don’t say anything about it. Also you should probably know that old men fight over who gets to stand behind you on the bus…
6. High-waist jeans- ugh you’re probably trying to be a hipster. Nobody likes a try-hard hipster. And if you’re trying to be a hipster, you’re not a hipster at all. A good hipster doesn’t admit to being a hipster because hipsterism itself is too mainstream. It’s mindfuck. The main point is: stop trying to be a hipster and go buy some normal jeans because everyone knows that deep down inside you’re just the regular boring you.

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No Hate

When I first started this blog, my goal was to be as light-hearted and amusing as possible. I’ve always tried to put aside personal issues and not address current events or public incidents that occur in our society. But with the recent occurrences that have been taking place lately, I just can’t find it in myself to be funny or interesting. So instead, I’m going to address the shooting that took place in Newtown just last Friday.

On the morning of December 14^th, 2012, Adam Lanza shot down 20 children and 6 adults in Sandy Hook Elementary School, the very school he once attended, after previously killing his own mother. He then proceeded to commit suicide himself. I honestly cannot begin to think about what could drive somebody to go into an elementary school and take the lives of those who haven’t even had the chance to live yet. Adam, I’m not sure if they have Internet in hell, but I just need to know why you did it. I think everyone needs to know. What occurrence or event could possibly drive you to be so angry or feel so alone that you deprived not only 20 angelic children, but 20 entire families of a lifetime of happiness?

There are times in every person’s life when you just have to take a step back and think about what it means to be human. The world is supposed to end in a week, and there’s obviously controversy as to how true that theory is. But regardless, the one thing I know is this: Even if the world doesn’t end, humanity is already dying. Not only did Adam Lanza commit a crime that would bring even the most disgusting of human beings to tears, he simultaneously destroyed every image of security and mortality that Americans lived under. The damage Lanza caused was simple, just the pull of a trigger. But the aftermath of such a heinous crime is going to take months, maybe years to overcome emotionally.

 The entire community of Newtown has had their reassurance and security abruptly snatched from beneath their feet. For every child that died in the massacre, there are brothers and sisters and parents and friends who also had a part of their hearts die that day. But I don’t hate you Adam Lanza. In fact, I feel nothing but sorrow for you. I’m sorry that you felt so much loathing, so much detestation, and so much disgust that you could look into the innocent faces of six year old angels and open fire on them. I’m sorry that the monster inside of you felt the need to expose itself last Friday and show the world how ugly an individual really can be. But I refuse to hate you because I refuse to feel the hatred that you felt that morning. After all, if we all start hating one another, how are we any better than you?

That’s why instead of feeling the burning, scathing, deep, loathing that we all want to feel, we should instead focus on ourselves, focus on how to be better individuals, and focus on loving one another. If we come together and keep the victims in our prayers, the bad deeds of scum like Lanza everywhere can be overcome by the general love of good people. Because even today, even after the revolting things you did Adam, I still believe that you had a good soul. And I still believe that people are good.

***Please pray for the victims of Sandy Hook Elementary

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Personal Experience

Dear 13-year-old self,

            Hey it’s me, your older self. I thought I’d write you a nice little letter to give you some rules about teenage life that I think would’ve helped me if I’d had it when I was 13. Kay, so here goes.

            First off, congratulations on being a teenager! You must think you’re just the hottest shit around. Rule #1: stop thinking that. Right now. Nothing is less cool than someone who thinks they’re cool. Also, please get rid of all of your Aéropostale clothing right now. Rule #2: Never, ever, wear anything Aéropostale ever again. Just take a garbage bag, stuff the terrible clothing inside, and bury the whole damn thing under a tree or something. Ugh.

            Sorry, is this too hard for you mini-me? Suck it up. Rule #3: Never, ever, try pretzel M&Ms. They’re delicious and way too addicting, and are going to become your weakness if you try them even once. We just don’t need the extra calories, you know? So stay away from them, and we’ll be fine. Rule #4: Try to become extremely interested in history. You’re going to have to take more history classes in high school than you want, and if you don’t develop a liking to them early, reading chapters of useless shit you don’t care about at all is going to be mentally exhausting. Take it from someone who knows.

 If you haven’t found out already mini-me, you love burning candles. But you’re also not very smart about putting them out. Rule #5: Blow out your candles when you leave the room. I know it sounds like common sense, but common sense isn’t very common, and this is worth mentioning. If you don’t follow this advice carefully, you’re going to end up with a lot of messiness. And let me tell you, wax is really hard to get out of a carpet… not that I have personal experience or anything.

            I think I’m supposed to throw something really meaningful in here about how boys are assholes and not to do drugs or whatever. But I don’t want to insult your intelligence, and I know you’re smart, mini-me. So that brings us to Rule #6: It’s better to apologize than to ask permission. You have NO IDEA how many things you’re going to be missing out on if you ask mom and dad before you do them. Seriously, just take every opportunity, do what you can, and say sorry later. And if you get caught or get in trouble, remember that it’s easier to get dad on your side than mom, and there’s nothing dad likes more than peanut butter cookies. Just a hint.

            So have a great life, mini-me, and don’t worry too much about the way you look. As soon as your braces come off and you get contacts, you’re gonna be a knockout. I have personal experience.

Love always,

Your 16-year-old self

             

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I Love You A Latte

            The holiday season brings out the happiness and best in everyone, and reminds us to be extra thankful for the little things. With that in mind, I would like to give thanks for something that is very important to me in life, and that I probably wouldn’t be the same person without- Starbucks. 

            Coffee is one of those things that can either make or break your day. A quality cup of Joe in the morning (or anytime actually) can truly put you in a positive mindset and force you to be cheerful. Caffeine really is a miracle worker. And yeah, some people might argue that $4.01 for a skinny mocha with whip really is too much to be spending, but I guarantee it’s totally, completely, 100% worth it. Spending four dollars to preserve your sanity and be a generally better person is entirely reasonable. Look at it this way: Starbucks is pretty much like medication. Or drugs. But fortunately, you cant go to jail for consuming ungodly amounts of caramel syrup. So instead of spending big bucks trying to buy "legalized" pot from Colorado, spend your hard-earned drug money on a Starbucks frappe- they’re legal everywhere.

            I would also like to take the time to give a huge thank you to the very attractive male barista at my local Starbucks. Being extremely indecisive and never knowing what to order from the hundreds of choices, I usually just tell this saint of a man something along the lines of what I’m craving, and he orders for me. I’m happy to report that I have yet to be disappointed by his selections (probably because I’m too busy trying to memorize his face to really taste what I’m drinking). Either way, Barista-man, over the past six months that you have been serving me, I just want you to know that I really appreciate your input on my caffeine selections and have enjoyed the way our almost-nonexistent and mostly one-sided relationship has progressed. If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be sipping my boring caramel macchiatos and would never have known the sugary joys that I was missing out on. I also want to thank you for just being so goddamn beautiful every day I walk in, and looking so amazingly perfect in your coffee-stained green apron.

            If you have a nearby Starbucks and a hot barista in your life, you should probably thank your lucky stars and the coffee-gods above. And you should also maybe consider slipping the aforementioned barista your number. Thanks for everything, Starbucks. I love you a latte.

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Rinse And Repeat

            Life obviously isn’t perfect, things rarely ever are. But sometimes it’s the little things that get to us, and make us wonder why the world is so against us. Like what the fuck did I ever do to you, world, to make you hate me so much?!

            The case in point in this situation is washing your hair. In reality, hair washing is the most basic of processes. You just squirt, lather, rinse, and repeat. Any druggie pothead could do it. And yeah, most don’t, but that’s a personal preference, and a completely different story. But back to the main point- washing your hair should be a pleasurable and sanitary activity, and shouldn’t really be giving anyone stress. But unfortunately it often has the potential to do so, usually in the most inconvenient of situations.

            You’re probably asking yourself, how could shampooing your hair possibly have enough goddamn power to ruin your day and give you anxiety? Either that or you’re wondering why you’re wasting your time reading this rather pointless blog when there are so many more useful ways you could be spending your time. But let me tell you, one of the most annoying things ever, and I do mean EVER is when your shampoo and conditioner run out at different times.

            Okay so I probably sound like a shallow bitch. Like how could I possibly care so much about my hair products usage when there are skinny children starving to death in Africa? But I’m just going to ask you to kindly not judge me until this situation happens to you. Put yourself in my shoes for a second: you’re standing in the shower, enjoying the nice hot water and lathering shampoo into your hair, when you reach for the conditioner bottle, only to find it completely empty.

            How does this happen?! I, like everyone else, use an equivalent ratio of shampoo to conditioner, so it just doesn’t seem logical that one should run out so much before the other. And after the shampoo is done with, it seems like the conditioner continues to mock me for days afterwards. Try as I might, I just can’t seem to finish it off quickly enough, and have to deal with it’s plastic bottle just sitting there on my shower rack jeering at me. Conditioner, you asshole.

If this has ever happened to you before, you have my deepest sympathies. How’s a hygienic person to survive? There’s nothing you can do, except to squirt, lather, rinse, and repeat. Life is tough.

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