September is the pits.

Have you ever had one of those days where everything just goes wrong? I mean everything? Well, if you multiply one day by five.. you'll get my September 17-21st. Last week was one of the worst weeks of my entire life. People say that all the time, but I can't even wrap my head around the shit that was last week.

I knew last week was going to be bad because all my classes had work due for them. I'm taking 18 hours. Two English classes, Statistics, German, Religion, and an Art class and I work 9 hours a week at our art studio building and the museum . It's loads of fun. I spent the weekend before last doing homework. Nothing but homework. I wrote two papers on Saturday and Sunday. That was exhausting, but it was only the beginning.

Monday: Went home that weekend. Came back to school, woke up to go to class. Realized I left my make up at home. Lack of sleep apparently makes me look like hot shit on a stick. 6 people stopped me before 10 am to tell me I looked awful/ask me if I was okay. Did I mention that it was raining? 100% chance of rain. For two days. I head to statistics. Forgot my umbrella. Monsoon. Get to statistics, dripping wet. We have a test. I knew everything right up until she handed us our test. I wrote my name at the top and forgot everything. Big. Giant. Fail. Go to work, start writing another paper. The day is looking up. Parent's bring me my make up. Get in bed at 1:30 am.

Tuesday: Still raining. Poring. Monsoon. 5:00 am. Air conditioning starts smoking. For the love of fuck. I jumped out of bed, turned it off and spent the next 30 minutes fanning our very sensitive smoke detector with a pillow so we don't have to evacuate the entire dorm at 5:00 in the morning during Hurricane Billy. Can't sleep, but it doesn't matter. I have an 8:00 class anyway. Put on make up. Remember my umbrella. Doesn't matter. It broke as soon as the wind caught it and turned it inside out. Make up was a bad idea. German test. Print out article and essay for Religion. Walk outside, article catches the wind.. lands in a puddle. Don't have time to reprint it. Go to work. Finally have time to eat around 6. Got food poisoning. Still no air conditioning. Worked on papers for Wednesday beside the toilet.

Wednesday: Two papers and an article due. Still no air conditioning. Lingering effects of lumpy ranch dressing food poisoning. Spent 6 hours working on a paper for Thursday. Got statistics test back. 68. Highlight of the week.

Thursday: Another paper due. German. Ugh. Go to work. Had to go pick up a sign for my boss. Spent 15 minutes lost as fuck. Found the place, realize its a house/business. They aren't clear which side is which. Open a door. Not the business. There is a family staring at me. I stare back. They stare back at me. I let their fucking dog out. Chase dog across gravel parking lot. Fall on my face, but catch the dog. Return dog to owner. They direct me to the business. Sign isn't ready. Spend 20 minutes in a small room with a sweaty, nasty man that is staring down the front of my shirt. Get back to my dorm, work on paper for Friday. Still. No. Air. Conditioning.

Friday: Two classes are cancelled. Go to statistics. Get the fuck home. STILL. NO. AIR. CONDITIONING. 

So, to sum that up.. my air conditioning blew up, I got food poisoning, I forgot my make up, I got fucking rained on, I wrote 6 papers, had two articles, two tests, got lost, let someone's dog out, fell on my face, and got stared at by a greasy old man. Did I mention that I didn't have fucking air conditioning? When things go bad, they go bad. I'm ready for September to be OVER. Good lord.

Just tell me I'm conceited and wrong. Please.

The past two weeks have been filled with nothing but class work, homework, and plain old work. My schedule is ridiculous and my focus has been on getting all my work done, so it's no surprise that life has snuck up on me to remind me that I'm just a pawn in its twisted little games.

I had to work at our new studio building on Monday. My least favorite professor had me cleaning out the greenhouse turned art building so we could move the old stuff into the new building. The temperature in that glass oven ranged somewhere between 95 and fuck you.
I was moving Halloween paraphernalia from the greenhouse to the room beside it which was about a 6 foot distance. My mood was grand. I was grumbling along- box in hand, avoiding spiders and drawing boards when my foot caught on something that was not in my line of vision. I went flying across the room, but managed to cushion my fall by landing on a box filled with a tiny metal popcorn machine and orange fuzzy pumpkins. There was also another item hidden in the box.. A very real, very large knife with a fucking 12 inch blade. That bitch sailed out of nowhere and lodged itself in the side of my pony tail - narrowly avoiding my neck by about an inch and a half. I almost shit my pants. I immediately went to show Satan's mistress what was lurking in her boxes and her response was "glad you didn't die. That would have been a horrible lawsuit." Bitch.

The next day was just as odd. I'm a sophomore in college. I realize not everyone has the same maturity level and such, but really.. We're considered adults. There is a boy that wears a Perry the Platypus hat with a hat like the platypus wears in the cartoon sewn on top. I try not to make fun of him because I'm already concerned God is going to give me ugly babies as punishment for all the other people I've made fun of and the last thing I need is a college student that wants to wear a fucking kids hat. So, I'm walking to class and I see him at the top of the hill I'm about to walk up. I sucked in my breath and was about to bite my tongue when I squinted and saw it. Mother fucker had a rolling backpack. I haven't seen one of those bitches since elementary school. I am in complete awe because not only is he wearing two hats, but he's dragging that backpack around like a pet. He comes bebopping down the hill and right as I meet him, his wheels catch in the break in the side walk and he loses control of his backpack. I look over in horror as that shit comes careening onto my side of the walkway, effectively cutting my shins out from under me. Immediately after contact my anger rose and I forgot all about my future children. I caused a small scene when I yelled at him and told him to "PUT A DAMN LEASH ON THAT THING!" 'Im pretty sure God will forgive me, though because really.. Who has rolling backpacks?

If that was the end of my strange week I would have been fine, but sadly.. It wasn't. In one of my classes, I sit beside this girl who I thought was just really nice. We talked some and then she started playing with my keys and doodling stuff on my paper.. That was a little weird, but I didn't think much of it. And then she runs her fingers through my hair. Let me be clear here. We're not even on a first name basis. I can only refer to her as this girl in my class because I don't fucking know her name. And she is running her fingers through my hair, poking me in the sides and telling me she loves my handwriting. I don't know for sure, I mean.. She may just be lacking acceptable social skills.. But something about her mustache tells me that there could be a little flirting being directed towards me. Don't get me wrong, I love gay people. They are wonderful and I wish I had a pocket sized gay friend to take shopping with me all the time, but I'm all about penises and I don't know how to handle this situation. At all.

I have a feeling it's going to be a long, long semester.

Ron White ain't got shit on me.

The past two weeks have been a new kind of hell for me. I cannot begin to explain how much I loathe the car dealership near my house. It is unbelievable. But the story can't start here. It has to start at the beginning of my driving career  for you all to understand that I have the shittiest luck known to man.

My first car was an '05 Ford Mustang. I loved it more than anything. Two weeks after I got my license I was in a car accident with a cop. A fucking cop.

Two months later: I was in an accident with a Toyota.

Three months later: A school bus pulled out in front of me. I ran up under the back end going 50 miles an hour, totaling my car. 

Then I got a '97 4-Runner. I backed into a pipe, blowing off my rear tire.

Two weeks later I was in the drive thru at Wendy's and my car started squealing and smoking. A belt had fallen off in my engine, ending my air conditioning forever. This occurred on what had to be the busiest day that Wendy's has ever had. There was probably 50 faces plastered to the window watching my car blow out smoke.

I began college. My mom let me drive her Taurus because it had better gas mileage. I still wanted my 4-Runner and was planning on driving it once I returned home. I pulled into my driveway on my first day of summer and there was a new 4-Runner sitting there. My mom had traded in my car WITHOUT telling me and gotten her a new one. I was furious and I wanted a jeep. My dad said to give him a little while and we would get one. And here is where our story starts.

The 4-Runner that my mom purchased from the dealership near my home lasted about two weeks before it had to go back in the shop. They said they fixed it. She drove it and the day after she got it back and broke down on the side of the road. She sent it back to the dealership, got it back, and broke down on the side of the road again. They gave us a rental. The rental wouldn't start. We got the 4-Runner back. Broke down AGAIN the day before we were supposed to go on vacation. They gave us another rental. It broke down on the way home from Florida. You know that story. My mom got her car back again, and it broke down in the middle of the road. She narrowly avoided getting smashed by two cars. She decided she wasn't keeping it. We traded in her car and my car at the same time.

I got a really awesome '05 Jeep Wrangler. It had a 4" lift, subwoofers, 28,000 miles. It was incredible. I loved it so much. I had that fucking thing 17 hours. Let me repeat that. I had that Jeep 17 hours before I was riding down the road and had to pull over because the entire steering column was shaking like a fucking earthquake. It had what is called the "Death Wobble." We sent it back to the dealership. This was on a Saturday. Guess who fucking knew about it having the death wobble before they sold it to us? THEY DID. The guy that sold it to us played dumb and said he didn't know about it. Okay, whatever. They ordered the part. My jeep sat out there until Friday before they even looked at it. They said they ran into another problem and needed to get another part, but they would have that by Monday. Monday rolled around. They didn't buy the part because it was expensive. My dad went out and raised hell. They got around to working on it again and put smaller tires on it to see if that was part of the problem. Some low-life, son of a bitch, fucking MINDLESS MORON FORGOT TO TIGHTEN THE FUCKING LUGNUTS ON MY LEFT REAR WHEEL. They were test driving it and MY LEFT REAR WHEEL FELL OFF. IT FUCKING FELL THE FUCK OFF. THEY TURNED MY JEEP INTO A TRIPOD. I thought Ron White was kidding when he was telling that joke on stage, but apparently PEOPLE ACTUALLY FORGET TO TIGHTEN LUGNUTS. They drove 30 feet with my shocks driving the ground. My dad just so happened to be driving through town and see it sitting on the side of the road WITH THREE TIRES. He immediately warped his ass into the parking lot and told them he wasn't keeping it anymore. They gave him a 4 door jeep and said for us to look at it. It was a stock '07 with 40,000 miles on it. Nothing special. They wanted 26,000 for it. My cousin bought her '07 with bigger tires and chrome wheels BRAND NEW for a thousand more. So I have officially been carless for 13 days. I move into college on Tuesday. I don't know what I'm going to do, but if you guys hear a story about a car dealership and an arsonist don't say anything about me. I don't even know what to say. I hate them. I hate them so much. This has been the most unbelievable, ridiculous, shitty two weeks imaginable.

I'll let you guys know when I get a jeep. I expect it to be around December. Fuck car dealerships.

'MERICA

Sports have been the foundation of my life, so it is no surprise that my family takes the Olympics very seriously. I don't care what sport it is, I'll be watching with great interest and excitement, because America, you guys. But my excitement doesn't hold a candle to my Dad. You know all those crazed fans you hear about? That's my dad. Let me see if I can put this into perspective for you all.

Once, my dad went to a Clemson game with some of his friends. Things got exciting and my dad came down with the hammer (the hammer is sort of similar to watching a person crank a weed eater) while screaming "YEAH BOY!" and he clocked the lady sitting in front of him in the back of the head. It knocked her out. Let me repeat that. My dad punched a lady in the back of the head and it KNOCKED HER OUT. She spent the rest of the game curled up in her seat, crying. My dad doesn't even like Clemson. He LOVES America. This is serious.

Last night my uncle was in a car accident. We were waiting in the emergency room and Katie Ledecky, the 15 year old swimmer began her race. The first 700 meters were spent making comments on her age and whether we thought she could keep the world record pace. The last 100 meters were spent with me hiding my face in horror as my dad stood up and chanted "GO, GO, GO, GO, GO!" Nurses were scowling. Patients were staring. Babies started crying. And these are at public places. So you can only imagine what it's like in the privacy of our house when people like Michael Phelps get to going.

I love the Olympics. My dad clearly loves the Olympics. I'm just glad they only come around every four years because I have to recuperate from his excitement. His favorite event is track and field which has just started. Wish me luck. It's going to get dangerous.

It was a rhino. A big, grey, aerodynamic rhino.

Not long after I wrote my previous post about the family vacation, we stopped at Cracker Barrel: my least favorite place on earth. I don't know what it is about Cracker Barrel, but I fucking loathe that place. It puts me in a bad mood, my sister in a bad mood, and then shit goes down hill. We left the Cracker Barrel and I was able to fall asleep for about 45 minutes. I woke up in the 7th Level of Hell.

We had stopped at a gas station for a bathroom break and immediately after cutting off the engine it was like the sun shit on everything. The temperature went from a comfortable 72 degrees to a God-awful 103 and the humidity level rose to soup. I stand somewhere between 5'7-5'8. My cousin who shared the back seat with me stands somewhere around 6'0. He was stretched out across the back seat, on top of me.. for about 6 hours of that ride. That is what I woke up to. I was not happy. 

When we had left my house 7 hours prior to that stop our agreement had been that we switch drivers so no one had to be cooped up in the back seat of that fucking clown car for the entire trip. My sister immediately deemed herself and her boyfriend Queen Asshole and King Assbag of the front seat and we were banished to the back. The boyfriend went in to go to the bathroom and my cousin got up front to fiddle with the radio. Upon my sister's boyfriends return my cousin was told to "get back in the back" and then the boyfriend scooted the passenger seat as far back as it would go because "it hurt for his knees to touch the dash" taking all my leg room away in the process. I don't know if it was lack of sleep, the heat, or the cramped seating arrangement, but I snapped. I usually think out what I'm going to say to my sister when we argue and fight. I'm a planner. I either want it to be something we can laugh about later or if she's pissed me off enough I want it to hurt, but when I screamed "THIS IS FUCKING BULLSHIT YOU HORRIBLE FUCKING BITCH" I wasn't exactly thinking clearly. I stormed out of the car, jumped in with my parents and spent the next two hours cramped up in that car. The vacation was beginning wonderfully.

We arrived at our condo. Our room wasn't ready. One pool was closed because someone shit in it. I got burnt so bad I had sun poisoning. Awesome.

The next day everything changed. It was awesome, fun, cool, the beginning of the best vacation ever. The 2nd and third day continued that trend minus the five hour fishing trip.. or boat ride. No fish were caught. The sun had exhausted me and the next day I slept in. It was around 12:00 the next afternoon when I had apparently missed about 15 phone calls. My best friend took it upon herself to wake me up. She came in, yanked off all my cover and tried to take my mattress off my bed. My sister saw what she was doing and ran in to help. She took off my shorts. I was rolled off into the floor.. half naked. My sisters boyfriend came in and all I could do was hold my hand over my vagina like a fig leaf. He brought in a fork. My sister used that to poke me in the ass. I was violated. Pictures were taken without consent. It was a bad afternoon.

That night I was bitten by sand fleas. 116 of them to be exact. I can't even describe how bad I was itching. I didn't sleep well for the rest of the week. But it turned out to be the best vacation I ever went on. It was one giant party. I left with 37 family members. And then the ride home occurred.

We had taken a rental car because my mom's 4-Runner was messed up. The air conditioning clicked the entire way back. It sounded like a blinker. I don't know if you've ever listened to a blinker for 8 hours, but they should use it as a torture device. Our GPS is a lying little bitch. I hate that thing more than I hate anything else in the world. She is a dumb fuckstick and she doesn't know what she's talking about so when our car broke down in the middle of fucking no where, Georgia I was ready to throw that damn curse out into the highway. This was 8 hours into the trip. By the time we reached Atlanta my back had molded to the seat and I'm pretty sure I had a severe case of Scoliosis. I was hungry, bored, and in a terrible mood. I had made it to the front seat, finally. My sister and her boyfriend had driven home and I was with my parents. My mom was at the wheel, I was in the passenger seat, and my dad was passed out on my pillow pet. We were barreling down the interstate heading towards our house when I saw something in the road. It looked sort of like a plastic bag.. only it turned out to be a lot more durable and a lot more aerodynamic. We hit that bitch and whatever it was made giant BOOM and I watched it fly out from under our car and rip the bumper off the car behind us. It fucking RIPPED. THE. BUMPER. OFF. My mom was flipping her shit. I was like "Uh.. mom.. their bumper is flapping in the wind.." and she floored it the fuck out of there. Fortunately, we made it home in one piece and I can absolutely say that the Griswold's don't have shit on us.

"I want someone to take an ape out of the zoo, throw it into the water and be like BITCH, TURN INTO A MERMAID."

I was going to write a post about the rest of my vacation, but that will have to wait because I watched TV last night. Since Direct TV fucking took away Spongebob, I found myself watching Mermaid: The Body Found on the Discovery Channel at 9:00 last night. My best friend was over watching it with me. We expected it to be really cool because, you know, it was on the Discovery Channel. They usually air cool shit. WRONG.

The beginning was promising. There was a whale beaching and a cool phone video that some kids had taken and then a recording of a "leaking" of a clip inside the Navy. The music was suspenseful and hands popped out of nowhere. We were excited. But rather than continue to be awesome, it went back 10 million years into an animated version of what they think happened. This is pretty much how that went:

In a nutshell, the scientists described how we, as humans, have evolved from land dwelling apes to sea dwelling.. apes. Okaaaay. But it gets better. I'm paraphrasing here, but it went something like this: A group of land apes branched off from another group of land apes and decided to go hang out by the ocean. They chilled out there for a couple thousand years and most of them drowned because they didn't have the right equipment, but over time they were eventually good enough in bed to pop out babies that had less and less hair. And after that their children had tails and flippers and could hold their breath under water and then they had tails and that's how mermaids were created. Because that makes a whole lot of fucking sense.

Hey, John! You got your flippers yet? NOT YET ASSBAG.

We spent the entire night disproving their credibility based on the absolute ridiculousness of the situation.

At one point in the documentary, the scientists were down in South America.. South Africa? Something like that and they took x-rays of a body that they had found. They brought in a specialist to look at the legs who stated that he noticed that the pelvis looked similar to that of a human. He then realized that he had the film TURNED THE WRONG WAY and flipped it upside down to discover that these creatures used to walk on land. Uh, what? Between these people there is probably 50 years of schooling and NO ONE realized that they had the x-ray turned upside-fucking-down? Sir, you have a doctorate. You study marine life for a living and you did not know that you had the films upside down? YOU HAVE WASTED THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS ON YOUR EDUCATION, YOU DUMB FUCK. This really upset my friend, who just got out of school to be a dental assistant. She was like "YOU DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS UPSIDE DOWN? I TAKE X-RAYS. I AM A CERTIFIED X-RAY TECHNICIAN. I CAN TELL YOU WHICH TOOTH IS IN YOUR MOUTH AND I TOOK A FUCKING 10 WEEK CLASS."

I don't see how all of this is true or how it could be true. I just spent a week in Florida. Why don't I have scales? Or a tan? I sure as fuck didn't adapt while I was down there. I ended up looking like a lobster, but that doesn't count.

In all honesty, I truly believe there could be stuff out there. I have family members that are very familiar with the outdoors who have seen things they can't explain, but those creatures are on this planet because God was like MERMAIDS? OKAY. SASQUATCH? BOOM. And if we did evolve it was because God was like EVOLUUUUUTIONNNNNN!!! And not because our ancestors used to live in trees and then swam through them.

That is one ugly motherfucker. 

My God. People are stupid.

Enter the Griswold family vacation.

I am writing this post from my phone as my sister, her boyfriend, my cousin and I are barreling down the road at 80 miles per hour in a four car caravan. It is 5:14 in the morning. I have had 45 minutes of sleep. My sister hasn't had any. Welcome to the first installment of what can only be described as a Griswold family vacation.

We are on our way to New Smyrna Beach in the Sunshine State. "We" includes my family and 31 others. Yes, there are 37 of us in this vacation. We left at 3:45 this morning. It is a 9 hour drive. My sister is at the wheel - running on about 15 minutes of sleep. I am in the back seat praying to the good lord above that we don't go careening off the side of the road into a firey death. I don't like energy drinks, but I purchased one anyway because if I am going to die, I am going to die screaming at her ass.

We are almost two hours into our trip and I know, without a doubt, that this vacation is going to drive me to drinking. That will be difficult since both my parents have a strict policy against underage drinking. It goes along the lines of "fuck no." There was a drink mixed before we left our house and I just had to try it. I don't know what it's really called, but I have been describing it as tasting like unicorns and Jesus for two days. Fortunately for me, my parents know I generally don't like alcohol which makes sneaking cup or six of that much easier. Or at least I hope it does. Because if it doesn't I'll be doing 100 to life.

My dad is the tail end of this little conga line and he's already called me twice to have me tell my sister how to drive and I just LOVE relaying messages between people. We've driven through what smells similar to the inside of a skunks asshole, and I think someone in this car has shit their pants. I've said "fuck" more times than I usually would by 5 am and I have a feeling I'm going to be making up words by the end of the day.

Here's to my sanity and may we all return in mostly one piece. Part two will come up as soon as something interesting happens. I have a feeling that will be sooner than later.

I'm going to be a Disney movie.. only with more cats and less Dalmations.

There is an incredible lack of genuinely good men in the dating pool. Hell, at this point I'd settle for marginally good or maybe even "meh.. he'll do." Unfortunately, I don't even know if that exists anymore.. which is why you will see me on Animal Hoarders about 15 years from now.

I don't expect any man to bend over backwards to do things for me. I am nobody's princess or any of that bullshit. But past relationships have caused me to add a few things to the list of things that you can't be.

Don't fuck up those Vows. 
Yes. That is unfortunately a requirement. I don't know how many 19 year old girls have to deal with married men, but two in the last 3 years is enough for me. I don't want anything to do with that shit. Ladies, please. Keep your dick on a leash. It will help your relationship and I won't go bat shit crazy. Jesus Christ.

"Mom" isn't in my vocabulary. 
I love kids. I can't wait to have them, and cuddle them, and buy them cute clothes. I love babies. They are soft and adorable and they smell good all. the. time. But I don't want to have one right now. I'll babysit, but I want to give it back at the end of the day. I've got things to see and people to do. Hell, I can't even legally drink alcohol for another two years. I sure as shit don't need anyone calling me "momma."   

If you have been booked, keep on booking it. 
Sigh. I am a pretty good kid. I don't do drugs. I've never been drunk. I'm only a super speeder 85% of the time. I can't be bringing a boy home to daddy and have to explain that record. I'd have a better chance dating Hugh Hefner. 

If I wanted something attached to my hip, I'd buy another belt. 
I am an independent person. I don't need to talk to you every minute of every day. I don't need to see you every afternoon. I don't need you to be with me all the time. It was cute when you told me you missed me the first time. And it was still cute when you told me that you really liked me. That's nice. But when you told me that the 17th time and it hindered normal conversation.. nope. Not cool anymore. I will not be another human beings reason to exhale. 


Thou shalt not be a chauvinist assbag. 
Women birthed you, mother fucker. We can do anything you can do better. Except pee standing up. I know how to work a saw, I know where the business end of a drill is, I can clean my rifle just fine, and if I want to put a 4 inch skyjacker lift on my jeep with Flowmaster exhaust and some Mickey Thompson wheels I'm going to do it. The only thing I NEED you to do is to be around to open a pickle jar and kill spiders. Because women's rights aren't worth dick if I can't ask a man to do my bug squashing. 


I don't think that I ask for much. I just want a nice guy with a great sense of humor. And he has to like puppies. Unfortunately the only good men ages 17-30 are taken, married, or gay. I can't date anyone old enough to be my dad. So rather than looking for love in all the wrong places, I'm going to devote my time to collecting an enormous number of cats. Wish me luck. Because I hate cats. 

  

I hope your character traits skip a generation.

I accept everybody for who they are. I guess that's why people are drawn to telling me things or doing things around me because they know I won't care...which is mostly true. I do just go along with it. It's your life. But there are things that people do around me that leave me feeling like I need to take a shower. Honestly. What the fuck?

People with NO concept of personal space:
This gets me every. single. time. I'm not talking about strangers that scoot up next to you on a bench, or walk too closely behind you, although that is irritating. I'm referring to the people that find it necessary to lay on you, hug on you, touch you, and ESPECIALLY the people that talk two inches away from your face.

I have this guy in my art class that LOVES to come up behind me and lay his head on my shoulder and watch me text or play games on my phone before class begins. Uh... hello? Do I go and lay my head on people's shoulders? No. Should you? NO.

My cousin finds it necessary to lay on me, have her feet on me, and wrap her arms around me when she's sitting on the sofa beside me. WE ARE ON THE SAME PIECE OF FURNITURE. THAT IS CLOSE ENOUGH, DAMN YOU. No amount of shifting positions causes this to go away. They just move with you.

Close talkers are the worst. They lean their bodies awkwardly and breathe hot air on your face. It's worst when they have eaten what must be rotten asshole with a side of fries for lunch and their breath smells like Satan himself took a shit. You can't back away. They just come closer. Excuse me. No, no I do not want to see what's stuck in your molars from the past 18 years of feeding. Nor do I want to wipe the condensation off my face from your rank ass breath. GET AWAY.

Too Much Detail. 
There are people that we are friends with and those strangers that just don't know when enough is enough.  I know secrets about people that they are probably not comfortable telling themselves. 

Sex is a main topic. I am comfortable talking about sex. It's a natural thing. Everyone does it. If you want to tell me that you and your boyfriend had sex last night, great! Good for you! I'm so glad. Maybe you'll stop being a raging bitch. But for the love of God, I do not need to know the raunchy, disturbing details of  your sex life. I do not need to know how he turned sideways and you about fell off the damn sofa because it felt so good. I do not need to know that you probably should give your boyfriend more blow jobs because you have slacked off in the last couple months. I don't need to know that you really do enjoy taking it in the ass because it's a different feel and sometimes even when you don't plan it "It just happens. It kind of slips in." Nope. No.. I don't believe that is something that I need to know. I don't. But I do know. So I'm just going to laugh with you and pretend that I'm not absolutely horrified.

Personal Hygiene. 
This is apparently lost on people. It's horrible. They stink. They are grimy. The grease in their hair could line a popcorn bucket. This is not okay. Bathe. For the love of all things Holy. BATHE.


I understand that these things are character traits. I do. But just because I accept you for who you are doesn't mean that I have given up all hope of your improvement.

I have yet to meet a man I can't live without.

Men. They are wonderful. They are helpful, funny, strong, and make good company. But I do not need a man to complete me. I am the only single girl out of all of my friends. ALL. OF. THEM. I have a lot of friends.

 My last relationship was rough and it took me a long time to get over it. I kept hearing "Well you need to get back on the horse." "Don't let one man ruin you for another." "You'll find someone that's perfect for you!" "Don't be so picky." " Give someone a chance!" "Well he may not seem right now, but he could later!"

Jesus Christ. My last relationship took up 5 years of my life. I was in looooove. He treated me like shit and I just let him do it because I didn't want to lose him. Life events happened and I finally realized I was better than what he was giving me. But it wasn't like I flipped a switch and got over him the next day. It was long, tiring, and I learned so much about myself. In that process I realized what a good person I was. I set my standards high and my morals higher. And I refuse to lower my standards for any man ever again. I've attempted a couple of relationships since then.

Boy #1. - Playa, playa. <-- Bye bye, jackass.
Boy #2. "I think women should have to take care of the children. I feel sorry for all the single dads out there." <---- Oh, HELL no. Get THE FUCK out of my room! 

All the time I've experienced these things I've told my friends about them. Each time I get responses like "Oh, give him a chance." "It's not that bad."

The hell it's not. I know who I am and what I want. I don't deserve any less than that and any man, any person that thinks lowly of you is not worth your shit! You think I'm screwed up because I'm single and have been for a while? Well you're pathetic for thinking that any of those things are marginally okay.

I was having a conversation with my professor about what career path I wanted to take. I'm still uncertain, and I mentioned in passing that "my track record with boys wasn't very good and if that didn't work out I wanted to be able to support myself." I think that is a perfectly reasonable statement.
She looked at me like I was a fucking loon. She said "You're 18! You can't say that. You're going to find someone!!"

Well what if I don't? Is there something wrong with that? Why is there something wrong with me being 18 and knowing what I want in a significant other? Why is it unacceptable to keep my standards high? Why do I have to have a man to complete me?

 I don't.

But it is obvious that many women and girls think they do.

Like I mentioned earlier, I am the only single girl out of my group of friends. Most of them are young. Some are married. Several are engaged. Some are having kids. But every single one of them revolve their lives around their man and I never see them. Why? Why do you have to spend EVERY waking minute with your boyfriend? I was in love once. I do know what that is. I understand it. Yes, I wanted to spend a lot of time with him. But I never forgot my friends. I would always make time for them, no matter what. If they needed me -- I was there. If they missed me I would try to see them as soon as I could. I never once put my boyfriends existence in front someone else, ESPECIALLY a friend or a best friend. I don't feel like having a boyfriend, fiance.. whatever .. is a valid excuse to put your friends on the back burner. Doing so completely alienates the person or people that you need when you want to share your engagement or pregnancy. If you do that you may not have a shoulder to cry on if shit goes down hill with your man. It's going to be pretty fucking lonely.

I don't get it. I don't understand revolving your existence around someone with a penis. And apparently it makes me "dumb, closed off, high maintenance" and all those other adjectives I've been called. But you know what it really makes me? It makes me a good person. It makes me a strong person. I'm 18 years old and I know what the fuck is up. Who knows, I may find some freak of nature that can meet all the things that I want in a guy. But if I don't? You're not going to find me sniveling in a corner because I'm single. You're going to find me riding down the road in my Mustang GT 500 because I grabbed life by the balls, not a man by the balls, and made my own damn life. 

Society is a hot mess.

Society is a hot mess. Wanna know why? This shit.

Reality TV. 

When did society become so absolutely obsessed with other people's misfortune and drama? I hate reality TV. You want to know what's wrong with our teenagers these days? Just look at the people they watch on TV!

 ---Like Jersey Shore. Oh. My. God. I have to say before I go further that I did watch like.. half the first season of it just to see what it was about. I couldn't finish it. It was so.. horrible. I don't watch it anymore but that doesn't stop me from knowing when it comes on. Every time a new season comes out my Facebook is blown up with "OMG ITS JERSDAYYYYY THURSDAYYYYY!!!" "Jersey Shoreeeeeeeee!!"

 If that was me on that show, my Momma would kick my ass. Everyone on that show is completely self absorbed with absolutely no motivation make anything of themselves. They are content with getting wasted every night, sleeping with everything that has two legs - maybe more, wearing things that would make Hugh Hefner blush, and spending all their money making themselves look like a carrot with teased up hair. Cheating? Totally acceptable. Sleeping with a different boy/girl every night? STD what? Alcohol poisoning? BRINNGGG ITTT ONNNN BITCHESSSS! And you wonder why our girls dress the way they do and you wonder why boys are such inconsiderate pricks. It's because the people they idolize on TV do it. If it's acceptable to them, it's gotta be okay for us to do it too. Bull shit. 


The Bachelor/Bachelorette 

I hate this show even more than Jersey Whore Shore. This is another yearly thing that everyone gets sooooooo damn excited about. "Omg! Who is he going to pick! Oh, she's so stupid! Why did she pick him?!"  I've tried to watch it. I've tried to like it. But I cannot understand, for the life of me, why you would go on a game show to fall in love. I can't get that through my head. Why? Isn't that like.. setting yourself up for failure? It's hard enough trying to find someone in the real world without 10 million people watching you. Now everyone knows all your dirty little secrets.

And the girls cry. They cry so much. It's unbelievable. Aww.. honey. Why are you crying? You're in love with him and he doesn't love you? Well how long were you together? 3 weeks? FUCK YOU ARE YOU STUPID? DRY IT UP AND GO MAKE SOMETHING OF YOURSELF! 
And what's with the proposal at the end? You've had like 3 months to get to know someone. I do realize there are some very happy people out there that have been proposed to/gotten married in that same time frame and are very happy, but they didn't have to compete with 56 other people. You have not had an adequate amount of time to get to know someone. You do not propose. And then everyone is shocked when it doesn't work out. ....No shit it didn't work out. While you were busy flaunting your body and overplaying your emotions to get a rose, so were the 198 girls/boys that he/she was making out with. You cannot have a stable relationship if you're "test driving" other men or women. That is the exact same thing is cheating. It's not a real commitment and it's not going to work.

The Secret Life of the American Teenager.
I know this isn't reality tv, but while I'm hating on television I thought I might as well throw this in.
First off, it's pathetic that we actually have to have a show like this. That goes to show me how bad society has gotten. Someone felt a show like this would be successful because there is such a large audience.
Now for the reasons why I hate this show. It's entirely too much. When it was just about Amy being pregnant and trying to figure out how to raise a child, that was tolerable. But now? I can't keep up with all the stereotypical situations that have been crammed into that one tiny group of friends. The pregnant girl, the asshole boyfriend, the divorced parents, the younger sister wanting to create her own identity, the Christian girl that won't have sex with her jock boyfriend, the Jock boyfriend looking for sex somewhere else, the Christian girl finally has sex, the death of a parent, the special needs brother, the boyfriend that tries to marry the girlfriend, the divorced parents finding other people, the divorced parents trying to get back together, the gay kid, the slutty band girl, the slutty band girl gone good, the widow trying to date again, the kids living together, the single dad getting married, the single mom never being around..  My God. And I haven't seen the show in two years. That's only what I remember. There is no telling what has happened since then that I'm not aware of.

This is the most ridiculous show that I have ever seen. And it's so off base. I am 18 years old and I don't know a single teenager or group of teenagers that have so many problems. And to top that -- the parents. What parent is going to be REMOTELY okay with any of this?! As a teenager you do need your own freedom. And I do believe in that. You must have room to discover new things and learn about yourself. Your parents can't shelter you forever. But these parents are so nonchalant about their kids situations it's ridiculous. They are treating them like grown people, which they're not. And society loves this! They eat it up! I think Secret Life is on like season 5 or something. *Facepalm*

Getting out of the TV industry I am going to move towards the fashion industry/celebrities because that is as equally fucked up -- if not more.


 
Celebrities:
 Lindsay Lohan.
Lindsay Lohan....
(massive labored sigh) Lindsay Lohan :(  Need I say more?

I am aware that she's not the only one but she's the prime example of a shit storm. And that's an understatement. 

Models/Fashion. 

You want to know why little girls are so self conscience? There's your answer. Who are you to tell someone that they are fat, ugly, or both? Who are they to tell someone they are fat, ugly, or both? How much do you have to weigh to be fat? What is considered fat? What is considered ugly? If you are going to be in the fashion industry you have to be skinny. You have to be beautiful because pretty doesn't cut it. The average model is 5'10" and 110 pounds. That's what girls see every time they go somewhere. Every store you walk into has something that is going to make you feel insecure. It doesn't even have to be real. Inanimate objects even judge you. The mannequins? Those are skinny mother fuckers. You can't walk into a store without seeing some naked mannequin and going "Man, that hunk of plastic is hot. I wish I was as skinny as that plastic mold" or "man.. that plastic person has great biceps. Why aren't my biceps that nice?" That Victoria's Secret poster? I can't walk into VS to buy a bra to make my 18 year old tits a little perkier without feeling like she's judging me from up on that wall with her glittery body and rock hard abs. I mean, come on. That is telling every child, teenager, and woman in American that they are only beautiful, sexy, and desirable if they can fit in a size 2.


 I hate all that stuff. Hate it. I can't go to the mall without the mannequins judging me for my small pretzel bite and water and I can't turn on my tv without seeing some girl passed out on the ground with her ass in the air, some guy making out with 6 different people, or pregnant teenagers. Where's all the good stuff that I grew up on? Where's Andy Griffith?  Where's The Nanny? Bring back the modesty! Less is more only applies with make up. Marilyn Monroe was a curvy lady. She is a damn American Icon and EVERYONE thinks she's hot! That's what society needs. It needs to get rid of this trash and bring back the good stuff. My God. We're going to hell in a hand basket.

Shit my professors say.

I seriously think I have the coolest professors of all time. There isn't a classroom I've gone into where I haven't found myself laughing so hard that tears are pouring out of my eyes. I'll give you the story behind some of these quotes and others I'll leave completely out of context because it makes that shit so much better.

History Professor:
"Those sad, political bastards don't know what the hell they're doing in my opinion."

"They threw a baby through the window!"

"Try to stay awake. I know it's hard.. BUT IT'S WORLD WAR ONE GUYS!"

"Have you guys seen that movie? It had a really good plot. I mean, most of it could be classified as a porno... but I liked it."

"I know you've had sex ed. Surely you know that you can get pregnant from pre-ejaculate. That is the white fluid that comes out prior to ejaculation. I believe you young folks call it "pre cum" It's basic stuff, really."

"No cell phones in class, please. I know you're doing it too. Most people don't stare down at their crotch and smile. And most people don't fiddle with their crotch either. Unless you're masturbating back there.. I hope you're not. Yes. I know you who you are."

Art Professor 1:

"It looks like a weenie."

"That looks like a weenie too.. "

"Did you just say penis? No?"

"Where is it? In this pocket? No? Over here? Here's your good attitude!" 

"When you burn this, it releases cyanide...Can you please close the doors?"

(To use her supplies we had exchange an item of ours so she would be sure to get her supplies back. I gave her my cell phone. She put it in her back pocket.)

"Oh.. I forgot to put my phone on silent. Sorry if it vibrates.."
"In that case, I'll put it in my front pocket."    <-- Top 20 most awkward moments of my life.


Art Professor 2:

"Shit. Damn. Shit. Shit. DAMMIT!"

"OH GOD. DON'T DROP THE EGG!"

"I'm a late bloomer."

"And when you all fail miserably, I'm going to laugh at you."

"That's the 6th time I've had the fire department called on me. Every time I fire up the Kiln, someone passes by and thinks there is a fire and calls it in. I've got people taking bets on how long they think it will take them to get here."

Art Professor 3: 

"Yeah... but we're not cats, are we?"

"mmmm... CHAIRS."

"That's nice.. yeah. Nice. Ooooh nice."

"Eventually you're going to want to draw the penis. Don't be afraid of it."

"I was out of cell service when my car broke down. I had to walk 4 miles to find a gas station."
-- "Weren't there any houses?"
"Well yeah.. but I hadn't shaved my beard. I was worried they would be scared of me."

"Those are good drawings! Except for that one... what happened there?"

"You know, that thing.. where a midget with dreads lays face down?"

"It's one of my hobbies... to tear the mica."

"I expect you to paint shoes perfectly. If you don't, you fail."

"TOO DARK TOO FAST ... here is okay.. but here.. TOO DARK!"

 "I was a vegetarian for a long time.. and one day I wanted eggs. So I ate them. They were good. I'm not a vegetarian anymore."

"I hate things that pretend to be apples."

"Hey... You ARE slow!"

"Yeah.. I've lived everywhere. I was homeless once. I lived in a warehouse... It was okay. I wouldn't recommend it." 

"I know! I couldn't find y'all! I thought you guys had been held hostage! You know, because that happens sometimes!" 


And my personal favorite.. my English professor: 

"When I got married I had to let go of my nightlife, my dancing, and the bars.. but I wasn't losing my swearing."

"My mom hates it. She's like June Cleaver and she doesn't do a bad thing. She always tells me I need to stop swearing and I'm like Ma, I'm the one who got a PhD in English. I know when these words are appropriate. This is one of those times."

(Talking to me)
"I almost called you a bitch when you brought up John Travolta, but I figured telling you to shut up was a lot nicer."

"She's a huzzy! DON'T PUT THAT IN YOUR PAPER."

"You only get to live once! If I want to go dancing, I'm going to go dancing! I don't give a rats ass!"

"Getting a PhD has it's perks. You should see my shoe collection."

"I'm a horrible mother. I've tried not to cuss around my daughter... When she was little my Mom was over at our house. My daughter was running around the house with one of those sock monkeys. She ran up to my mom and goes Grandma! Here! Catch the fucking monkey! As you can see... it didn't work."

"My daughter always tells me "Mom, you're not like other moms" Hell yeah, I'm not like other moms."

(Talking to me)
"I have a lot of faith in you. You're smart. But right now.. your writing sucks. Fix that."



I love my professors. Sometimes they make me mad, but then something like that will come out of their mouth and I have a whole new respect for them.

What's the quickest way to my heart? None of these things!

I'm generally a very easy going person. It takes a lot to make me mad. Well, okay... I get mad easily. I guess I should say it takes a lot to make me mad enough that I'll show it or that you know my anger is directed towards you. I let a lot of stuff go. Sometimes the little things accumulate to make one giant clusterfuck and when it reaches that point.. it's a shitshow. What are the things that cause my anger you ask?


Driving slow in the fast lane. 
Motherfucker, no. You don't do that. The slow lane was created for people that are going to drive 10 miles under the speed limit and for old people with limited sight distance that really shouldn't be driving but they are independent bastards so they do anyway. The fast lane was created for people that are going to go fast. It was also created for passing. I can't fucking go around you if I've got 87 year old Edna with a bum leg and fucking cataracts staring through Coke bottle glasses in the right lane and you're taking your sweet ass time going to Wal Mart or wherever the hell your destination is. Sometimes you're also putting on make-up. That shit sends me over the edge. You are causing me to be late to my ALWAYS IMPORTANT SHIT because you're applying your Smackers lip gloss. If you're going to do that, move your hunk of fucking metal over into the left lane with one-eyed Edna and drive like handicapped sloth over there.

Insisting on Having the Last Word:
My sister is the QUEEN of this. She's 17 years old and she lives to piss me off. Usually I can blow her off, but if I've had enough and she does this we've been known to have a throw down in the front yard. It usually begins with me having a bad day. Little things happen. A bad test grade. Someone pulled out in front of me. A bird shit on my door handle. Small things that accumulate to create a growing, hidden pool of fuck you. She arrives wherever I am. I begin a conversation and since she hasn't been the cause of any of my little problems-- I'm nice and friendly. She answers me with an attitude. I immediately realize that she's being a little bitch, but I continue the conversation because as I said earlier, I let a lot of stuff go. She answers with an attitude again. It's growing more difficult for me to be nice, so I tell her to shut up and forget it. She has a very calm response, but it you know she's doing it to be an asshole. The conversation usually goes like this:

Me: Blah blah blah.
Sister: Attitude.
M: You know what? Just shut up and forget it.
S: Okay.
M: Seriously. Just stop it.
S: Okay.
M: Just leave me alone and stop answering me.
S: Okay.
M: STOP IT.
S: I don't have to.
M: YOU'RE PISSING ME OFF.
S: I know.
M: YOU'RE BEING A LITTLE BITCH.
S: I know.
(At this point I know that she's baiting me, but I'm so pissed off that I don't care.)
M:I WISH I COULD BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU.
S: Go ahead.
M: ONE OF THESE DAYS I'M GOING TO BREAK YOUR DAMN NOSE!
S: I'm sure you will.
This usually results in a physical fight. 

For the love of God. Don't do this to me. There is literally no faster way to piss me off.


School Work:
I like school. I like to learn. I'm not one of those kids that can stare at something for 10 seconds and know it forever. I make good grades, but I have to work at it. I'm best at English. I love to write. I do understand that there are kids out there who aren't good at writing. They just don't get it. I don't mind helping my friends out. Want me to read a paper? Okay. Want me to help you form your body paragraphs? Sure. Need work on an introduction? That's fine. But don't you fucking try to manipulate my kindness and get me to do it for you. Don't bring your introduction to me and ask how to write your body paragraphs because you didn't read the whole book for the 3rd time, you lazy sack of shit. Don't fucking ask me to read your introduction for the 27th time so I can see if your thesis is good because you won't send the professor an email. And don't you dare get pissed at me when I don't know how to arrange your paper for the book you didn't read because I don't see how it relates to the topic. I don't mind helping people. I love it, actually. But I got where I am by asking the teacher questions, staying after class, reading the material, and learning from my mistakes. And Fuck You for trying to use me and my generosity as an out for your dumbass laziness.

Clingers:
These people piss me off. I understand that some people are needy. Got it. That's their personality and they can't help it. Cool. Okay. But there are situations that piss me off more than others: Dating. Recently, I attempted "get back on the horse" after being single for a while. The guy seemed nice enough. I gave it a shot.  We hung out for two hours. It was fun. He was nice and he didn't seem like an asshole. Within 30 minutes of leaving I had a text message saying that he "wanted to get to know me better so we could turn this into something more." My warning flags went up, but I suppressed them in the excitement of someone new. Day 2: I worked on a paper, he sat in a chair beside me. There wasn't much discussion, but I didn't feel the "spark" that was there for my last two relationships. I also felt he was a little too immature for my liking. There's nothing wrong with that, it's just a personal preference. I talked to a couple of friends who convinced me to give it a shot anyway. Day 3: Good morning texts. Repeatedly telling me I'm a great person and he can't wait to get to know me. If I didn't answer within a few minutes another text was sent. More warning flags. Later that day I had a friend who I completely trust tell me that I needed to be careful. He confirmed my flags. I made the decision to ease out of it, figuring it would be easy since we'd seen each other like.. 8 hours total. Wrong. I broke the news to him. Nicely, I might add. A pity party was thrown and that pisses me off. He can coordinate an excellent guilt trip. I spent the next 3 hours apologizing for something that I shouldn't have to apologize for. It didn't work out like he wanted. Boo fucking hoo. Get over it. We've talked for 8 hours. I've taken shits longer than that.


Trying to tell me I don't know what's best for myself:
These people are are fucking stupid. Over the course of my life -- especially in the last few years -- I have realized that it's hard to trust people and even the people you trust will try to pull this shit. I ask for advice. I take advice. I listen to it. But I absolutely do not want you to tell me how to live my life or that I should live it like you do because yours is so fucking grand.
No, no I do not like alcohol. Because I don't like the taste of it. No I don't think this beer is going to be any better than the last beer I tried for you. No, I shouldn't learn to like it because you want me to party with you. No, I'm not a pussy, but you're a dick.

No, I don't smoke. You know that. Oh, you're talking about weed? Yeah, I don't do that either. It's relaxing you say? So is fishing and that's not illegal. It's fun too? I bet that class that you failed will be even more fun the second time you take it. No, I'm not a pussy, but you're a douche bag.

Yeah, I'm still single. Oh, that guy? I just didn't feel anything. Yes, I do believe two days is enough time to tell if someone is worth pursuing. Yes, you told me that it took you 3 months to feel something for your boyfriend. Yes, I took that into consideration. Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you wanted me to be happy. You do? Well why would you want me to settle for someone that doesn't make me happy? So I would at least have someone around, you say? No, I don't need to "get back on the horse" that bad. I raised my standards since my last relationship. I'm never going accept less than I think I deserve again. No, that doesn't make me a high maintenance bitch, but it does make you an inconsiderate asshole.

There is nothing more infuriating than having someone tell me how to live my life. Especially after I have made a decision for myself and someone tells me I'm stupid because it wasn't how they would have handled the situation. Fuck you, you're a horrible person


There are several other ways to piss me off. Smacking your food, squeaking your wet shoes on the tile floor, farting in an elevator. But those things up there? Don't fucking do them. They should piss everyone off, not just me. If you do these things, you are a horrible person.

Encounters with bugs

Bugs are nasty. I don't like them, but I can tolerate them. Spiders? Spiders terrify the living shit out of me. Same thing with bees, wasps, hornets. They are all the same thing and they all about drive me crazy because I'm so scared of them. I don't know why. Or maybe I do. I've had some pretty horrific encounters with these creatures that can make even the manliest man cringe.

June Bugs:
June Bugs are relatively harmless. They fly around in your grass during the summer and go away the rest of the year. I think that's great because that means I only have to sprint through my front yard like a drunken lunatic a few weeks out of the year. Why would I be scared of a June Bug you ask? They are harmless, or I thought they were until my childhood was ruined by grandmotherly fun.

My Mamaw and I were very close before she passed away when I was in 3rd grade. I used to go to her house all the time and during the summer we would always go outside and catch June Bugs. I was probably 6 or 7 at the time this took place. I don't know about your grandparents, but Mamaw would always catch a June Bug and tie a piece of thread to it's leg and let me fly it around like a little kite. That was the coolest shit ever. I always loved that. One day we were sitting on the front porch and she had caught me a June Bug and I was flying that bastard everywhere. It was buzzing in circles and we were having a great time. I remember I was laughing and I watched it fly up in the air and then it flew back at my face like a missile and it attached itself to my upper lip. It grabbed my fucking upper lip with its grubby little feelers and started pulling it back and forth. I screamed. I couldn't get it off. I was 6 years old, running around on the front porch with a June Bug kite attached to my lip. Mamaw couldn't help me. She was laughing too hard which traumatized me all the more. Finally she composed herself long enough to rip that thing off and throw it in the yard. I've never been the same. I'm 18 years old and I KNOW they won't hurt me but I still run through the yard like I've got a rabid beast on my tail.

Harmless my asshole. NO ONE IS SAFE. NO ONE.

Bees/Wasps:
I've never really known what it's felt like to be stung by a bee. My sister used to get stung all the time and I'd made it through life completely unscathed until I was about 13 years old.

We live in a small town and at the time there wasn't a Lowes or Home Depot to shop at. We had to drive 30 minutes to get to the closest one. We made a family trip up there because my sister and I were too young to stay alone for an extended period of time. My Papaw needed to go too, so he also made the trip. It was still early spring so it was warm enough for a t-shirt, but cold enough that you still needed pants. We got out, shopped, and came back to get in the car. There was a yellow jacket buzzing around us and it was getting kind of close to my face, so I swatted at it and got in the car. I didn't think anything of it and put my seat belt on and we went to McDonalds to get some fries. On our way home I was eating my little box of fries and I felt something kind of tickle my leg. I shifted positions and it stopped. We continued down the road and I felt it again, only this time it was higher and it felt like it was crawling. I mashed down on it before thinking and I'll be damned if that little fucker yellow jacket that I swatted at hadn't crawled up my pants and GET STUCK IN MY THIGH. I had ridden in the car AT LEAST 15 minutes. I threw my fries everywhere and started screaming -- trying to take my pants off. My dad pulled over and mom got out and we pulled my pants down right there on the side of the road. My little white ass was a shining everyone. Mom took a Kleenex and scraped the guts and smushed wings off my leg and pulled the stinger out. I did some deep breathing and tried to compose myself. After a few minutes of that I pulled my pants up with what little dignity I had left and got back in the car. I've never been stung since, but that one time will do me for the rest of my life.


Spiders:
Spiders are the worst things ever. It doesn't matter if they are big or small. They are bad. And evil. Grandaddy Long legs? Get the fuck out. Little black spiders? Hell no. But you have to deal with them. It's inevitable. But one thing you shouldn't count on? Mutant spiders the size of a fucking apple. I was at my house with a friend of mine. We were watching Juno. The TV is the focal point of the room with our fireplace and rock hearth to the right of it. I just happened to look down and see this black blob in the floor. I thought my dog had pooped or maybe we had left a sock in the floor so I got up to investigate. Oh, how wrong I was. As I got closer I could make out the shape. It was a spider. A huge, mutant, I swear to God the size of an apple, spider. I squealed and told my friend to come kill it. It turns out, she is equally afraid of spiders and wouldn't touch it. I wasn't going to touch it and risk losing a limb and of course there were no adults within 20 minutes of us. My parents gone somewhere and hers at a party. Our movie sat unwatched as we focused on the spiders every move. It went in front of the tv and circled around back. My dog, who was known to eat bugs and spiders was trying to get near it. I had to grab her and keep her with me because if she had eaten it, it would have killed her. Finally, it started getting really close to us.. probably within 10 feet, and my friend called her parents. Of course, they were pissed that we called them about a spider, but she was on the verge of tears so they said they would be there in 10 minutes. 10 minutes. 10 feet. We couldn't stand on the floor. What if it came after us? I couldn't put my dog down. What if she ate it? So we spent the next 10 minutes furniture hopping. That thing got right under our coffee table which I was standing on. It was massive. It had some beef on it. Hairy.. geez. I just got goosebumps. Her parents still weren't there and I couldn't let it go under the sofa where it was headed next or we'd lose it forever. I took a hardback book that my mom had on the table and I lifted it up as high as I could, aimed, and slammed it down right on top of the spider. Fucking spider babies went everywhere. Thousands of them. I screamed. My friend screamed just as her parents were walking in the door. They were laughing at us of course but all the laughter stopped as soon as her dad picked up the book and saw the spider and it's babies. He stomped all over them and flushed what he could. It was easily one of the nastiest things I had ever seen. I had to Google that later so I could find out what it was. It turns out the spider was a wolf spider and they carry their babies on their backs.

I'd show a picture but it's 12:17 am and I will literally have nightmares because spiders scare me so much. You'll have to Google wolf spider with babies on it's back yourself.


I've had some other unfortunate encounters with bugs. The worst is being in the shower minding your own business and looking up to find a spider staring at you while you're naked. I can't get out of there fast enough. It scares the hell out of me every time. But those three examples are why I'm a little chicken shit. After dealing with all that if I want to ask my dad to kill a bug, I'm going to. The only good bug is a dead bug and I don't think women's rights are worth shit if it means I can't as a man to do my bug squashing.

Too much awkward.

Awkward situations are unfortunately part of everyday life. Fortunately there are a few guidelines to help you make these situations more bearable. Most people try to make the best of these situations by finding the funny, while others avoid recognizing that there is an awkward situation at all. But, if you’re like any normal person, you’ve been faced with unexpected situations that strip you of your dignity, raise your blood pressure, and leave you dumbfounded – trying to find the nearest escape route away from the public eye. Luckily, awkward situations happen to everyone. Your average Joe, celebrities… even former President Bush faced an embarrassing moment when he threw up on the Japanese Prime Minister, Former President Ford fell on his face leaving Air Force One, and I’m sure everyone remembers Jessica Simpson’s “Chicken of the Sea” fiasco. In fact, just the other day I had an awkward situation occur when an ex-boyfriend that I literally have not talked to in two years popped up on my Facebook and told me that he got married and was thinking about having kids with his wife. I don’t know what you’re supposed to do with that information… Which brings me to my first point:

 Exes. 

There are two main types of awkward situations when dealing with Exes: The Direct interaction and the indirect interaction. The direct interaction occurs when you are face to face with your ex. Such as when a teacher assigns partners, you go out to eat and your ex is the waiter/waitress… basically when you’re thrown into an unavoidable situation with an ex-significant other. 

The solution: Try and be a civilized human being and act like you’re the happiest person on the face of the planet. Ignore the awkward as best you can and busy yourself with horribly funny text messages and check Facebook often. Distractions are key.

The Indirect interaction is easier to handle. If you receive a message from an ex that you haven’t heard from in a while the obvious thing would be to not respond. But if you’re not smart enough to think of that first(like me) and find yourself in a conversation that you really don’t care to be having but  don’t want to be mean… use lots of question marks and exclamation marks. That’s why they were created.

The next awkward situation I will be addressing is the Foot in Mouth. Anytime something inappropriate, rude, or hurtful comes out of your mouth before your brain can give it an okay it can be categorized as The Foot in Mouth.  This is perhaps the most shameful of all awkward situations. It is difficult to recover because an awkward silence usually follows.

The Solution: IMMEDIATELY after you realize that you have humiliated yourself, direct the attention to someone or something else. Change the subject.  You can also try the confusion method. Ex: I was wedding dress shopping with my best friend and she asked me what I thought about feathers. Apparently, feathers are a big deal for her and she loves them. I don’t.  Using the confuse method, I avoided the awkward silence immediately after and recovered.  “Oh, I thought you told me you didn’t. Didn’t you? Didn’t you say that on the way down here? Hmm... I must have misunderstood you. I know you will look beautiful whatever you choose!” 

Unfortunately, I am known for my trips, falls, and other mishaps. I’ve had a lot of experience in this area. Tripping and falling is another humiliating experience, but with a good attitude and the right recovery you can only care a little bit like me! There are several different types of falling. The public fall, the sports fall, and that one fall you’d just like to forget.

The public fall is when you’re at an important event. Graduation, awards day… some place that falling would be top 5 of the worst things that can happen. If you’ve fallen at any one of those events (raise hand) you must laugh it off, ignore the red that has surely come over your face and, laugh with anyone that tries to bring it up later. Or you can bow. That seems to work too.

The sports fall: The sports fall gives you a little leeway. You can usually pass it off as hustle. But if you find yourself in a situation where you can’t… Like after hitting your first homerun you tripped over third base and fell face first in front of the other team’s dugout, the recovery might be a little trickier. The solution: If you’re the center of attention and there is no way to avoid the stares of every person in that vicinity, acknowledge the awkward. Chances are it will be completely silent after you’ve created such an awkward situation for yourself. Come right out and say “well, that was embarrassing” and continue on your way. If you show that you’re completely okay with embarrassment others are less likely to bring it up.

The one that you’d like to forget.  This fall is the most humiliating. You have shamed yourself at the highest level possible. You may have fallen down a hill in front of hundreds of people. You might have caused a multi-person pile up; you could have fallen in the parking lot and caused a traffic jam because your backpack was so heavy that you couldn’t get up…

The Solution: There is none. Good luck. 

Responding to someone that isn’t talking to you is another unfortunate awkward situation that you may find yourself in. This one is a tricky situation to get out of. You must be extremely skilled if you want to come out of this without the other person realizing that you’ve made a fool of yourself.

 The solution: Don’t allow the awkward silence to set in. Continue to respond to someone invisible behind you. When the person that you actually responded to looks at you, create an awkward situation for them and make them feel shame! 

The next situation I will address is dealing with adults. Any embarrassing or awkward situations dealing with authoritative figures is extremely horrifying. There are many different situations that you can face but I will focus on two main issues:  Unfortunate timing during movie scenes and miscommunications.

Everyone has had the unfortunate experience of having your parents walk in during that one inappropriate scene during the movies. Or you have had to sit there beside your mom or dad while the actors are makin’ babies. I find that to be incredibly awkward.

The solution: Become extremely interested in your phone. Send out a mass text and pray to the good lord above that someone responds. And do not make eye contact. If you don’t acknowledge the scene, it didn’t happen. Simple as that. 

My final point is miscommunications between adults. These situations can result in groundings, all out yelling matches or in my case – a parent teacher conference.  This was perhaps the most awkward situation that I have ever been in. My sophomore year I had a teacher that singled me out and decided that I was a horrible person. It began with small things. She called me to her desk and then she called me out in the hall after accusing me of talking about her. It transitioned into her coming to my desk and writing me notes asking what was wrong with me and my family. She would then send emails to my other teachers saying that I wanted her dead. The end result was her kicking me out of class after saying that “I ruined her day and her class and she didn’t want to see me anymore.” We had a parent teacher conference and she spent the entire time crying saying that she didn’t know what to do because I was rude and disrespectful. Yeah. I know. 

The solution: Be the bigger person. Adults hate being wrong – especially in front of other adults. Agree. Say you’re sorry. Say that you’ll try harder to sit in the corner and not speak and not make below a 96. And then do everything possible to not have that teacher again. 

In conclusion I have told you about several awkward situations and what I believe is the best way to deal with them. However, the main thing you must remember is that everyone deals with awkward situations. Everyone gets humiliated and the best thing to do is embrace your inner awkward. The easier you can laugh at yourself the easier it is to deal with other people laughing at you.