Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A. *pause* Boobs.

It’s hard to believe I’m writing my 100^th post for this blog. It’s been just over three years, and tons of random madness, but overall I think we’ve all had a good time.

Since this is the 100^th post, I had quite a struggle over deciding what to write about. I felt like it should be something epic and mind-blowing. Or, since this blog is really a means of forcing myself to write, an update on how my other writing is going (hint, not well). I petitioned my family for ideas. My brother wanted me to do a review of best/worst posts. My mother wanted me to talk about some spoilers from the latest Game of Thrones that she is having trouble accepting. My father suggested the evolutionary aspects of sleep (which I probably will do at some point because let’s be honest, I love talking about sleep).

In the end I decided to go with something very near to my heart.

Boobs.

(Yes, that was a pun. Laugh and move on)

Boobs are often the bane of my existence. Actually, I suppose not boobs, but the bras we need to keep ‘em in check.

Basically, bras are life ruiners.

You first have the struggle of trying to find a bra that fits. It is MUCH trickier than the male mind can even imagine. You have to take two things into consideration: band size and cup size.

Now a common misconception is that cup size is always the same. So if I wear a C, I would wear a C no matter what band size.

FALSE!!

The band size actually changes the cup size. So if you wear a 36 C and move up to a 38, you’re probably now wearing a B. This is called a “sister size.” Basically for every band size you move down you add a cup, and every band size you move up you subtract a cup. In theory, 34 D = 36 C = 38 B = 40 A.

Are you starting to sense the crazy here?

There are a ton of statistics flying around saying that most people are not actually wearing the correct bra size. That’s partially because of the band/cup logic we just discussed that not everyone is familiar with. It’s also partially because of how one determines their size.

If you go to a fancy bra store they will offer you a “fitting,” where using measuring tape and magic they will tell you your true bra size.

Now some people luck out, and have a great fitting and find their true bra right away. For years, I hated fittings with a PASSION because I would go with friends, get a fitting, and it was disastrous. They’d tell me a size that was so far off what I was wearing, all I could do was stare blankly at them. I’d try the bra they suggested. Not really because I believed them, but because I wanted to be a dick and show them they were wrong and stupid. This always led to trying on bras that produced quadriboob. Not a pleasant experience. Discouraged and pissed, I’d refuse to try anything else, because if the magic fitting doesn’t work for finding a size, what does? Random guessing? Luck?

I promise it’s not just me either. I recently read a buzzfeed article where a woman got six different fittings in a day, and while I laughed, I also almost cried from commiserating with her experience.

But recently, I figured out part of why this happens. I have cracked the logic of the bra fittings.

In theory, your bra size can be determined using measure tape. If you measure around your ribs this should determine your band size. So if you measure 34 inches around your ribs, you should wear a 34 band. The cup size is determined by then measuring across your breasts. You want to aim roughly for the nipple region for this measurement. Then, you subtract measurement 1 from measurement 2 to determine your cup. 1 inch of difference = A, 2 inches = B, 3 = C, and so on and so forth.

With such simple logic, how can anyone manage to screw up all the time??  

Two reasons.

First, the reason I often have problems specifically at Victoria’s Secret is because they make the assumption you’re wearing a PUSH UP BRA and thus DON’T FOLLOW THE FORMULA. Their push up bras are actually designed to measure as a cup size or two larger than you really are, so since they assume you’re wearing one, they subtract 2 inches from your second measurement before calculating your bra size. I know this, because the ONLY time I got a correct fitting at VS was when the lady specifically stopped and asked me if I was wearing a push up bra or not.

The second reason, and really the killer here, is that bras ARE NOT CONSISTENTLY SIZED. A 34 D in one line is NOT the same as a 34 D in another. Try taking sizes across stores and you will basically want to give up on wearing a bra forever. So even though you now know some of the secret logic behind bras, IT DOESN’T REALLY HELP MUCH.

Fucking bras.

If you somehow magically find ones that fit well, you then need to be prepared to shell out a decent amount of money to buy them. The bras I’m buying these days cost between $40-80, even on sale.

That’s not by choice. Let me stop to emphasize how much that is not a willing decision. Yes, I prefer pretty bras. I do not buy plain white bras, it’s true. But guess what. There are plenty of cheaper brands that still have pretty options. Guess what else. BITCHES DON’T EVEN MAKE MY SIZE!! I literally cannot buy bras at Target anymore. My size doesn’t exist. It’s not an option, even if I was willing to get something a bit dowdy, which is why I’ve had to resort to Victoria’s Secret.

Yay…. (not)

One would think that since bras are expensive, you should buy less of them, right?

ALSO FALSE.

I mean you could. I’m not going to stop you. But here’s more bra logic – the more you wear bras the more the band stretches and thus STOPS FITTING. You are never supposed to wear the same bra two days in a row because this causes it to stretch even faster. You are supposed to rotate bras, and the more you can add to the rotation the longer you can keep them keeping your girls nice and perky.

I mean seriously, is anyone else going crazy trying to follow all this “logic” that no one tells us and half the time doesn’t even apply? Was the entire bra industry designed to crush our dreams and drive us mad??

Pretty sure it was.

PS. If you didn’t recognize the title for this post, it comes from the excellent horror movie Stay Alive, because let’s be honest, bra shopping is it’s own kind of horror.

The Truth About Short Hair

Bye hair!

Some of you may remember that last year I had an internal and then external debate over whether or not to cut my hair short.  In the end I decided to risk it (YOLO!) and go short.

Of course prior to making that decision I did tons of research. I read quite a few blogs and articles about things to know and what the experience would be like. Since I’ve now had short hair for almost a year, and consider myself a fount of knowledge for life in general, I decided the nice thing to do would share my personal revelations on the experience.

Brace yourselves.

Short hair!

I was leaning towards a pro/con list, but have decided on a different approach. We shall go through various life events, compare the long hair to short hair experience, and pick the winner for that category.

Let’s start with the obvious one…

MAINTENANCE

Long Hair Experience – for me, long hair was super easy. I could wash it at night, braid it for bed, and go a few days (assuming I didn’t jazzercise) before I had to wash it again. Bad hair days could be hidden with a ponytail or a twist. I could skip haircuts with no drawbacks except maybe some split ends, which I sometimes fixed myself.

Short Hair Experience - I find maintaining my short hair much more effort. I can skip a haircut but it’s going to do interesting things. If I run out of product I’m screwed. If I buy the wrong product I’m screwed sideways. If I don’t wash it, or at least get it wet every day, I look like an unkempt boy.

WINNER: I think it’s pretty obvious that LHE is the winner here.

COLOR

Short Hair Experience – I almost dyed of shock (dyed… get it?? HAHAHA) when I could get away with one box of hair dye. I don’t have to pay extra at the salon anymore. It doesn’t take hours to wash the dye out. It’s glorious!! Hell, I should dye my hair more. What am I doing this weekend…

Long Hair Experience – egad I don’t even want to get into it! Years of my life are gone trying to get dye through my ridiculously thick hair. YEARS. AND MONEY. SO MUCH MONEY.

Winner: SHE, for realz.

REACTIONS

Long Hair Experience – people loved my hair long. To a somewhat unsettling level. They also seemed to feel like they had a weird right to touch my hair. Strangers would come up and stroke it. True story. It’s weird.

Short Hair Experience – some people love my hair short, but there are also very emphatic others that can’t stop saying “I liked your hair long better.” In fact, people seem to feel like they have a weird right to remark on my hair choice now that it’s short. It’s not uncommon for strangers to helpfully suggest “but you’d be so much prettier if your hair was long,” or “guys would like you better with long hair.” They don’t touch it though, so that’s nice.

Winner: I’m going to call this one a tie.

EXERCISE

Long Hair Experience – fuck the world if you forget a hair tie before working out. Seriously, it’s the worst.

Short Hair Experience – there are some layers near my face that get in my eyes and are obnoxious, but otherwise it’s ridiculously easy to work out and to wash my hair afterwards.

Winner: SHE is the obvious leader here.

DANCING

Short Hair Experience – it is kind of nice to not have a bunch of heavy, sweaty hair on my neck.

Long Hair Experience – however, there’s nothing quite like tossing your hair every which way. I actually miss my long hair the most when I’m dancing.

Winner: LHE, oddly enough.

BED

Long Hair Experience – I actually slept with my hair in a braid at night, because otherwise I woke up tangled in my own hair. While this is a little annoying, on the other hand there is something incredibly sensual about getting ready for bed with long hair. That moment when you take off your clothes and your hair brushes your bare back… amazing.

Short Hair Experience – um, there’s really not much to say. I go to bed. I wake up. My hair is disheveled and not as adorable but it’s not a life ruiner. In fact, it’s quite nice overall.

Winner: SHE, but there are definitely things about the LHE I miss a bit.

“BED” (otherwise known as SEX)

Long Hair Experience – I just said that the mere act of sleeping tangled my hair. Now imagine sex. Imagine trying to unravel those knots the next day (because who goes “time out! I need to do something about my hair!” I mean I have, but it definitely dampens the mood). No really, imagine it. Imagine every time you lean over and there’s a cloud of hair in your face. Imagine trying to cuddle and it getting stuck to another sweaty body. Are you horrified yet?

Short Hair Experience – much, MUCH better than long hair, to say the least.

Winner: Seriously like it could be anything other than SHE.

So if we count them up… long hair has two wins, short hair has four, and we have one tie. This probably explains why I’ve been in no hurry to grow my hair back.

A word to the wise though. If you are talking to me, or really to any person that recently cut their hair short, do not, for the love of anything you hold holy, DO NOT ask me if I’m “ever going to grow my hair long hair again??” I consider this the world’s stupidest question. Assuming I don’t actually die at 30, I have many, many years of life ahead of me. How can I even possibly know what I’ll want to do with my hair five years from now? Ten years from now? Fifteen? You see where I’m going with this, so save us both the trouble and don’t ask stupid questions.

Idiot Cook Struggles

For 2015 I did not come up with any rules or resolutions or anything like that, but I have been using the new year as a time to start fresh with cooking more at home and less eating out. Since my family has also started our weight loss competition again, I’m trying to pair that with more low calorie recipes. It helps that I found the best website ever. Everything I’ve made so far has been delicious, and I already lost a bunch of the extra weight and slight pudge put on over the holidays.

I promise this is not a post where I’m going to crow about how skinny and fabulous I am while you’re not. Actually, this is a post where I’m going to share some of my secret life struggles that will probably make you feel better about yourself as a person.

I’m nice like that.

Here’s the conflict in this happy little story: I am not good at cooking. I do not like cooking. I never really properly learned the basics of cooking.

My mother is an amazing cook. My brother is an amazing cook. A cook to me is someone who can throw random ass ingredients together and wind up with something tasty. In order to cook almost anything I need a recipe to follow, and even then I wind up with difficulties.

Now all my attempts this year have turned out pretty well, but it’s been quite a challenge. So in an effort to prove that ANYBODY can cook (with a recipe, don’t even talk to me about culinary geniuses like my friend Jenn that whip up random food at the drop of a hat. They’re ruining the curve), I decided to list some of my issues the past two week that normal cooks take for granted. Let’s call them the Idiot Cook Struggles.

Idiot Cook Struggle #1 – Where the hell do I find that??

I was immensely proud of myself because instead of wandering the grocery store and grabbing what looked good (and probably fattening), I made an exact list of what was needed for each recipe and then planned the time to go shopping. I felt empowered, I felt invigorated.

Then I got to the store.

At least half of the ingredients I needed I have never purchased before in my life. I spent at least 20 minutes lost in the produce department, trying to find things like chives and debating whether the red pepper was supposed to be in that weird shape, or if that meant it was bad.

It didn’t get any better when I left produce. I walked up and down aisle after aisle with no understanding of where one would find breadcrumbs (I felt like it should be with the bread. It was not). I am morally opposed to asking people for help, so despite the fact that I walked into the store knowing exactly what I was going to buy, it took me almost 2 hours. 2 HOURS

Idiot Cook Struggle #2 – What’s in a name?

I wrote down EXACTLY what the recipes said for each ingredient, thinking that would make it easier.

Wrong again.

Apparently many items of food go by multiple names. And one is just supposed to know that. Eventually I started making assumptions. Most likely “baby bellas” are the same as “sliced baby portabella mushrooms.” That seems logical. Whether or not skim milk and fat free milk were the same thing did throw me for a temporary loop. And let’s not even talk about things like chickpeas which can randomly be called garbanzo beans on various cans.

This happens with the proportions of a recipe too. For the life of me I couldn’t figure out whether a “stalk of celery” meant an actual stalk, or the whole thing of celery. Google wasn’t helpful either as I found examples leaning both ways, and the overall decision was “use your judgment of what makes sense for the recipe.”

Damnit people, if I knew what made sense I wouldn’t be following a recipe!

Idiot Cook Struggle #3 – Chop, Chop

One of the main reasons I hate cooking is that I royally suck at chopping things. I refuse to chop when anyone is watching because you can literally hear the intake of breath as they become convinced I’m about to lose one of my fingers.

Which I still have all 10, thank you very much.

I find chopping instructions to be nonsensical. What is this “diced” versus “minced” you speak of, and how do I accomplish that? When you say “small slice” what is that small in comparison to? If the recipe calls for “cubes” are somewhat rectangular shapes okay?

Then to my astonishment, as I was looking through the knife section (all my knives are dull, and I’m not even sure how one goes about sharpening them or if I have the necessary tools for that) I saw a set that marked one knife for veggies, one for fruit, and one for tomatoes. Are you really supposed to be using different knives for different types of chopping?? I have one knife I use to chop, some paring knives I use if it’s dirty, a bread knife, and some big cleaver-ish type knife I generally ignore but my friend Jenn has used. Actually I think I have a few other knives but I ignore them too as I don’t understand their purpose.

So it’s possible I’m doing it even more wrong than I thought.

But despite these struggles I impressed myself this weekend with some AMAZING chicken pot pie soup, and broccoli mac & cheese. Last weekend I was pretty happy with petite turkey meatloaf and a loaded cauliflower mash thingy. Next weekend? Who knows.

What’s the moral of the story? Any idiot can (kinda) learn to cook (things based on a recipe) and have it turn out pretty good (but probably totally different from when a real chef makes it, and that’s okay).

FtF: Technology is a Ruiner

It’s been a long time since I’ve done a For the Few post, mainly because I keep talking about movies that no one even cares if they’re spoiled. Road Trip technically might classify as another of those movies, but I do adore it, so to be safe let’s start with the general warning of SPOILERS AHEAD!

In case you somehow missed seeing Road Trip, let’s start with the basic background. It came out in the summer of 2000 and was an instant classic with horny teenagers around the world. The movie revolves around 4 college guys that drive from Ithaca NY to Austin TX in 3 short days in order to retrieve a package mailed in error. It’s full of nudity, sex jokes, and Tom Green being insane. It spawned the need for similar movies like EuroTrip which has the classic and classy song “Scotty Doesn’t Know.” And sadly, I realized that due to all the ways technology has advanced and taken over our lives, this movie totally doesn’t work anymore. Watching the movie now requires not only suspension of belief on things like the character’s ages and the sexual willingness of beautiful college girls to hook up with short or nerdy guys, but pretty much every plot point from start to finish. Let’s explore the top 5 ways technology has absolutely ruined Road Trip.

5. The bridge scene.

So our guys start driving from NY to Texas and take a shortcut in PA. They wind up in the middle of nowhere faced with a broken bridge and no alternative way across the road. This starts a hilarious sequence that ends with a blown up car. The problem is they would never actually get to this point. There’s no way they’d be simply driving about using a map. Who uses maps these days?? At least one guy in the car would have their destination entered on some sort of GPS app. Even if they decided to not follow the suggested route, there were be some sort of indication the bridge was broken. Heck, there’d probably be some sort of little broken bridge picture on the GPS when they looked at the road. I’m not sure what that looks like, but it’d probably be cute. 

4. The missing son.

One of the guys, Kyle, has a very controlling father that becomes convinced Kyle is kidnapped. He tracks his son across the country leading up to an interesting confrontation in Austin. In reality, it wouldn’t have taken him that long to find Kyle. First of all, the guys talk Kyle into using the credit card his dad gave him for emergencies. I guarantee these days Kyle’s father would have some sort of notification tied to that credit card, and would know that Kyle wasn’t still in Ithaca long before the blown up car was found. Second, this guy is a total control freak. He would absolutely have given Kyle a cell phone, and there would certainly be a “find my phone” feature. As soon as he realized Kyle was missing he would have tried calling, and even if Kyle refused to answer (due to fear of his father), he would have used the location detection. There might still be a side story with Kyle’s parents, but it would be resolved much earlier.

3. Austin/Boston mix up.

One of the other side stories in the movie involves Beth, who slept with Josh, tracking down Josh’s girlfriend to let her know Josh was cheating on her. Hilarity ensues when she is mistakenly directed to the University of Boston instead of the University of Austin. Today, that is not in any way, shape, or form even remotely feasible. From the very first scene with Beth and Josh you can tell she is interested in him. Before they ever hooked up she would have social channel stalked the heck out of him. She’d not only know his girlfriend’s correct college, but also what she looked like, whether they were really in a relationship (as Beth thought they were broken up when she slept with Josh), but probably even know the date they got together years and years ago. Tell me I’m wrong. Go ahead, try. She probably also wouldn’t have still felt the need to go in person, as she could simply send Tiffany a little message of “oh hey, nailed the crap out of your bf the other night. #YOLO! #mybad”

2. “Cheating.”

Now again, the entire reason Beth sleeps with Josh is she thinks he’s single. To be fair, Josh kind of thinks that too. I’m not even going to comment on how this is the perfect example of guy versus girl mindset (Josh basically assumes that since Tiffany hasn’t contacted him in a few days that she’s off sleeping her way through every man in Austin and he’s free to do what he wants without you know, ever CONFIRMING THE BREAKUP. Okay, I lied, I’m commenting on this. WTF is wrong with men?? You couldn’t keep it in your pants like an extra day to maybe make sure you’re single first?) It turns out that Tiffany hasn’t been talking to Josh because her grandfather died, and they’ve been missing each other’s phone calls.

So let’s break this down. Does anyone even still use dorm phones? No. They would have cells, and even if they didn’t catch each other there would have been a record of all the missed calls. Most likely some texts would have been exchanged. At the very least, even if Tiffany isn’t one of those girls to post her entire life on FB, some well-meaning relative would be leaving “so sorry for your loss!” all over her wall. Josh would know his relationship status long before he ever saw Beth at the party. Beth would know his status before the party. If any “cheating” occurred, it would have been on purpose and not cause for a cross-country guilt trip.

1. The entire premise of the road trip.

Simply put, nobody mails videos anymore. Josh and Tiffany would be having regular Skype sessions instead of mailing back and forth super weird videos. Even assuming Josh went ahead and recorded something for Tiffany, it wouldn’t be then mailed in a package. It might be uploaded online, or sent in an email, but if that was the case Josh wouldn’t have any “race against the clock” to fetch the video. Either he’d have a way to take it offline immediately, or Tiffany would see it (although previews for the movie Sex Tape seem to assume otherwise, so I could be wrong on that). In addition, his friend wouldn’t accidentally upload/send it on his behalf. It would have some sort of file name, and even Rubin probably would recognize the difference between a file like “Vid for Tiffany” and “Super Sexy Times with Beth.” Okay, let’s pretend Josh is discreet for a half second and the file names weren’t clear. You can see the timestamp of the file!! Plus, in order to send the video Rubin would need access to some sort of account for Josh. You think a college guy isn’t going to be too busy trying to see/mess up as much as his friend’s stuff as possible? If not, clearly we are not friends with the same kind of people.

You see what I mean about technology being a ruiner?

That’s not to say one can’t still watch and enjoy Road Trip. There are many funny moments involving snakes and random body parts, and if nothing else it lends itself easily to drinking games.

A Neek and Misfit's Guide to Dating

So you may or may not already be aware that my friend Erin was my inspiration to start writing a blog. I look to Erin as a mentor as well as being a kickass friend, so I have been very touched by her support as I developed my writing. I will say right here and now that if it wasn’t for Erin I would never have attempted, let alone made it through, my NaNoWriMo adventure in November.

We like to discuss our ideas for posts together, and since we are the same person (on some levels) there are a lot of times when we have some overlap. Additionally, both Erin and I may be mildly obsessed with Buzzfeed. We discovered this post (which you should read first) from Buzzfeed Community member Doriean Stevenson back in February. Old timey dating advice is hysterical but also mildly disturbing, so we thought maybe we should add our take to the discussion to keep it fresh. Thus was born our first joint post!

Part one of the post appeared on the Island and part two is here below. Yes, you should read part one before part two if you haven't already. Think of it as a cross-country conversation (since we sadly don’t live in the same state anymore) between Erin and I during happy hour. Apparently we were both hitting the wine as we worked on this, which is basically the same thing and half the reason why it’s so awesome. #hemingwaywasadrunk 

My comments below are in black, and Erin's responses are in blue. This is the reverse of part one. Why? We like to keep people on their toes.

#8
The main problem I have with this is the alleged link between jokes at dinner and sarcasm. I demand data to support this conclusion. Does this mean if I joke at other points of the day I won’t become sarcastic? What about joking during breakfast? It must have something to do with the type of food you’re eating while joking, which is why breakfast is safe. So basically I’ve taken this to mean that joking is still acceptable as long as you have breakfast for dinner. Done.

Waffles are pretty funny. And so are pancakes when people make pancake faces using bananas and bacon. Of course, breakfast for dinner is the best meal I can think of and now I want to make pancakes. I also have to wonder if we’re allowed to make jokes at other times of the day. What if we’re no longer at dinner and I make a joke on the way to the car? Is car walking sarcasm acceptable? If so, then I will cultivate this as new marketable skill.
#9
Now this might just be me, but there are very few people I can stand to see more than three evenings during the week on a consistent basis. I need a lot of me time. If there was a guy that I could put up with that much I suppose I might as well get engaged to them.
Of course these days, “visiting a lady” probably also entails spending the night, at which point, as per Sheldon Cooper’s definition of dating, you’re technically living together. See definition below:
“A girlfriend shall be deemed quote living with un-quote Leonard when she has stayed over for A, ten consecutive nights or B, more than nine nights in a three week period or C: all the weekends of a given month plus three weeknights.”

I can’t disagree with Sheldon Cooper. Like you, I also need me time because I’m an introvert and I need time to recharge before I deal with people again. My apartment is too small for a guy to be around that much so until I find a larger place where we could both have our space, I’m okay with this one.
#10
I actually agree with the idea of this one, but I think it needs tweaking. I would suggest that you never accept a proposal from someone under the following circumstances:
They just had a near-death experience
They’re drunk
They’re under the influence of mind altering drugs (whether they be recreational or medical makes no difference)
Their nemesis just got engaged
That being said, I would note that both my father and brother somewhat proposed while drunk, and while this ended up working out for my father, it didn’t end well for my brother.

I’m so glad that you mentioned having a nemesis! You should never do anything if a person’s (or your) nemesis just did the same thing. This will never end well. I would also like to add the following items to our list of circumstances in which you should never accept a proposal:

They just had lunch with their mother.
Their sibling just got married, had a baby, or bought a home. Or all three.
They’ve spent the last several hours on whichever social media site they prefer seeing all the things that all the people are doing that they’re not.
They often begin sentences with “I liked (insert subject) before liking them was cool.”
They just attended a high school or college reunion.
They just returned from their best friend’s bachelor/bachelorette party in Las Vegas.
They just got a new phone and have not mastered the autocorrect settings.
They are a werewolf.

#11
For serious. This is pretty much unavoidable, but using my life theory as determined by The Sims you can help cut down on some of the unpleasantness. Oh what, you’ve never heard of my Sims Life Theory? No worries.
If you’ve never played The Sims before, the main thing to know is that people have several bars, including a “social” bar, that affect their overall happiness. To keep the social bar full the Sim must engage in social interaction they enjoy. This generally means it is with a person they like, or it’s something they’ve demonstrated liking before. For example, some Sims like a lot of jokes in their conversation. Some get pissy about people that joke too much (they’re probably afraid of that link with sarcasm mentioned above). The important thing is that every Sim needs a different level of interaction to get their bar full, and then the bar decays at different rates.
What this boils down to is that it’s important to know how much interaction your partner likes. If their bar gets full quickly and you keep on joking around when they want to focus on their low food bar or their full bladder bar, it’s not going to end well. This is probably what drives people to cannibalism.

I would probably die in the Sims world. Or become the cannibal in the neighborhood. Does reading quietly at home with the cat while drinking a glass of wine have any value in the Sims world?
\#12
I suck at leaving. Unless I legitimately have something I need to do, I tend to be the person that lingers. This probably ties in with my #FOMO issues. I am convinced that if I leave a party, or leave my friends, something awesome will happen. This fear is more prevalent in our generation than you realize. Besides earning a catchy abbreviation, it has also shown up in popular shows like How I Met Your Mother where the person leaving and missing the awesomeness becomes known as the Blitz. You know what, it probably would behoove me to start leaving things more often. This might be my May project. Or maybe June, because there should be some good stuff going on in May…

One of my favorite movies from the late 80s is Shag. It’s about a group of friends in 1964 South Carolina who take a trip to Myrtle Beach to have one last adventure before they head off to their futures. Annabeth Gish plays Pudge (her real name is Caroline) and Bridget Fonda plays Malaina. Malaina is the authority on boys and as you can guess from the nickname, Pudge is the quiet, awkward one who used to be fat. Anyway, Pudge falls for a boy named Chip and Malaina’s advice to her is to treat him like dirt, walk away, and then give him 10 minutes to apologize (even if he did nothing). That’s how you get your man - you treat them poorly and walk away. Pudge listens to this nonsense then decides Malaina is wrong. She and Chip enter that dance contest and all is righted in the universe. I guess the whole art of leaving idea is to cultivate your mystery because mystery equals allure. And allure is what all the men in the world are interested in. Or something.
#13
I’m not going to lie, I instantly judge people based on their spelling and grammar. I am willing to overlook what I view as “style” choices, like texting/typing ppl instead of people, if they appear sparingly. Pure misspelling though is an instant turnoff. Especially since almost everything this day has spell check! What, are you deliberately misspelling those messages? Do you think that makes you cool?! It doesn’t.  It makes me want to smack you roughly about the head with a dictionary so I can pretend it may be brain damage causing the issue.

I started teaching high school right around the time texting was surpassing instant messaging as the communication choice of teenagers. I spent countless evenings grading writing assignments that included text speak rather than actual words. Between that and the misspellings, the papers were always a sea of red. I could never be this blunt with my students but what was always going through my mind as I graded was, “This makes you look like an idiot.”

There’s a line the song “Friday Night” by The Darkness that sums up my feelings about this:

See the lady I adore
Dancing on the dancing floor
Dancing on a Friday night
God, the way she moves me
To write bad poetry
Dancing on a Friday night
With you.

I don’t care if you write bad poetry about me, just make sure it’s spelled correctly.


#14
Not to bring in some political madness or anything, but how does that account for same-sex relationships? Are they automatically better?
Taking gender out of it, I actually think this ties in with this amazing theory that some of my old coworkers introduced me to (old as in sadly former, not old as in age. If for some reason they end up reading this please do not get mad and come to Texas to injure me) which is called Love Languages. The whole idea is that people communicate their affection based on they would want to feel loved, when you should find out what your partner likes and use that method. Apparently I respond best to people paying attention to me, and doing favors for me. That makes soooooo much sense and explains like half of my lifetime crushes.
I’d definitely suggest checking out this theory. Here’s the website: http://www.5lovelanguages.com/

Are you sure we’re not the same person? I just took the Love Languages quiz and I also like people to pay attention to me through quality time and for them to do things for me. This makes a ton of sense if I look at my life. What I think we’re getting at is that people need to communicate with one another about what they want and don’t want in relationships. It’s not to say that we shouldn’t compromise when needed but it’s important to understand how the person you love or care for deeply responds best or what they need to feel loved and appreciated. One of my friends told me, not too long after the birth of her first child, that the only thing she wanted from her husband was for him to do the dishes. She would change the diapers, get up in the middle of the night, whatever else but she had no energy for the dishes. That was more important to her than any token or kind word he could have said - she needed the gesture. So I guess what we’re both saying is that, yes, each person loves and wants to be loved in their own way. It’s the combination of the two parts that makes it work.


#15
Because I basically live my life off Jennifer Crusie books, I would simplify this to a quote from Faking It:
“Very few people mate for life with the people they fall for at twelve. Doesn't mean it isn't real, doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, doesn't mean it doesn't matter, but basically, we're talking a practice swing in the big game of love.”
Of course if you have a foolproof method for identifying which is a practice swing and which is the big game, then you should tell me. Or alternatively write a book about it and make a million dollars (and then share with me).  

I too love Jennifer Crusie (Jessica introduced me to her) and love this quote so much. I remember the boy I liked at age 12 would not even be on my radar now mostly because he insisted on wearing his collar popped every time he wore a polo shirt. I could also argue that the last guy I dated is not someone I would consider today either and that wasn’t that long ago. We all need our practice swings. I would also say that if anyone thinks fly-fishing is easy, they have never seen the movie A River Runs Through It. However, it’s also possible I was blinded by Craig Sheffer’s attractiveness.

And that's it for us! I hope you enjoyed our expert advice, and keep it in mind as you frolic about this weekend whether you're seeking a mate, currently in a relationship, or partial to sheep. #nojudge

Thus It Will Be: Grudge Who Grudge

You know all those people (including me) that say they’re in love with a fictional character? Well, there are also those of us that are in love with a historical figure. I know, I know, but it happens.

There are several different historical figures I have a bit of a crush on. I can read about people like Caesar, Cleopatra, and Marie Antoinette until the cows come home, which since I don’t live on a farm means I do a lot of reading. But while their stories are interesting, and even though I have a bit of a vendetta against Octavian, it’s nothing like the way I get about my true historical love.

Who is it, you may wonder. A great American like George Washington? A prime man specimen such as Marc Antony? No, my love is none other than the glorious and misunderstood Anne Boleyn.

I’m not entirely sure why I love Anne quite so much. Henry VIII’s wives and scandals are certainly fascinating. Sometimes I’ll read about the other wives or about Henry himself, but it’s not really the same. I want to scream with frustration when Henry starts to stray to that simpleton Jane Seymour. Nor can I ever bring myself to deal with anything that is sympathetic to Catherine of Aragon.

Which is actually a fascinating example of what my mother calls my “delightful inconsistencies.” By all accounts I should be on the side of Catherine. She did nothing wrong. She was a faithful wife, a wonderful person, and she stubbornly refused to submit. Why do I hate her? I don’t know! But I can’t stop myself!!

If it wasn’t for Catherine, Henry would have been able to marry Anne much earlier. If Anne could have married Henry earlier instead of having to draw him on for years (and years… and years) she would have been less stressed and probably could have given birth to a son instead of having a miscarriage. If she had given Henry a son, he wouldn’t have killed her. Yeah, he probably would have gotten tired of her eventually and had more mistresses on the side, but he wouldn’t have needed to get rid of her because she would have provided the one thing he wanted.

Not only was my poor Anne killed over the ridiculous whims of a fat, stupid man, she has been horribly slandered since her death. The rumors of her time that she was a witch continue to pop up again and again. There are websites that list her having a 6^th finger and a huge mole on her neck as FACTS that caused the witchcraft charges. Um, what? You really think a spoiled brat of a king would pursue a “deformed” woman for years?

Even popular novels like The Other Boleyn Girl malign Anne’s character. They make it seem like she was a selfish, ruthless girl that didn’t even care about her own siblings.

Anne wasn’t a saint. She had to make some sacrifices to make it to royalty and there’s some evidence she may have some vendetta issues (which I totally support). I believe she was a good person though, and if you look for it there is just as much evidence on her side too.

Why do I love Anne so much? I don’t know. Some of it is so instinctive I can’t really explain it well. When my love loses her head, I lose my mind. Want to see my cry? Any movie/show that shows her being beheaded is guaranteed to make me start tearing up. And disclaimer, in case you don’t know me that well, I DO NOT cry easily.

On the other hand some of it is more apparent. Anne Boleyn was clever, pretty, and intelligent. Instead of accepting society’s role that she could be the king’s mistress or nothing, she made it so she could be queen. She managed to keep the king enthralled for years despite the easy availability of so many other pretty, easy women. It wasn’t magic like they claim, but it was still damn impressive.

4 Life Truths I Learned at Jazzercise

Thankfully I have been able to jazzercise again the last two weeks. There was a few week period where due to travel and then my knee being incredibly weird I had to stop. As my friend Jenn put it:  “thank goodness you are Jazzercizing again!  What else would you talk about?   You’d have to result to only TVD and Originals and I don’t know that you’re caught up yet.  So how on earth would you function in society?”

I realized when I returned to jazzercise after my brief hiatus how much I need it to be happy. Not only because it’s a huge stress reliever, but because when I go to jazzercise I am reminded of some very important life truths that help me keep things in perspective. Here are the four top life truths I learned in jazzercise.

4. People Are Stupid (but get over it)

There are times at jazzercise where I am incredibly annoyed by some of the other participants. It has nothing to do with knowing the routine, or how well they do it. Jazzercise is a judge free zone.

No, what pisses me off is the evidence that people lack basic reasoning skills when it comes to arranging themselves in a small place. Sometimes it’s a crowded class, and you’re just not going to have a lot of room. That’s fine. But sometimes people go stand in the most ridiculous spots so now some of us are squished together and the other half of the room could fit like five more people.

Last week I was getting particularly angry because there was a woman right behind me that was so close I had to watch my moves to avoid accidentally kicking/punching her in the face at points (although I kind of wanted to). The kicker was that there was enough space between her and the woman behind her that if one of my tall friends was lying on the floor, there would still be room between them (that’s the only way I can really conceptualize distance). So let’s call that over six feet of space. Did it ever occur to this woman to back up?? No, and in fact with some songs she kept inching ever closer.

But at the end of the routine when we do our strength training there’s always more room, and I have time to calm down. Despite how easy it is to get angry at people and hold on to that anger, it’s so much better for you to let it go. Some of these people are actually really nice, and there is absolutely no benefit to being angry.

3. Everyone Has a Thing

When I reached my 150 classes in October, I excitedly texted a good chunk of my friends and family.  My mom responded with “who would have ever thought you would become an exercise fanatic!” My dad makes similar statements all the time when he calls and I’m like “just leaving jazzercise” or “need to head to my jazzercise class now.”

The thing is, I hate exercising. When my parents tried to get me to exercise when I was younger it was like pulling teeth. Actually harder, because I’ve had a lot of teeth pulled and it’s not that bad of a process.

And even now, when I can’t jazzercise for whatever reason, I don’t workout. I think I should but I can’t make myself do it. But I love jazzercise. It’s my thing. I didn’t think I’d ever find a workout I’d love but there you go. Don’t get me wrong, there are days when I’m too lazy or hungover or unmotivated and I skip class, but overall I think I’m doing a fabulous job with it, and it’s all because I love it so.

2. It Matters Who You’re With

Did you know they’ve done studies that found if you hang around with people that are generally unhappy your happiness goes down as well? It’s too early in the morning for me to find one of those studies, but trust me I’ve read that somewhere.

Who you’re with can play a big role in your attitude and behavior. With jazzercise, I’ve found this particularly true when it comes to the instructors. Even when they’re doing the same routine some of the instructors are a little more enthusiastic than others. They do the high intensity moves pretty much the entire time, and they are freaking HIGH intensity. There are others that do the same song but do it a little more casual.

I’ve found that I always get a better workout with the higher intensity instructors. It doesn’t seem to matter that I realize when the instructor is doing a lighter version, I go along with it. The only exception is when there are other people in the class (that I can see) that are still doing very high intensity.

One of the things they say a lot in jazzercise is that we go to class so we can workout together and motivate each other. This is absolutely true. I apparently am only as committed to the workout at the people around me. I probably should use this knowledge to make myself do the high intensity moves no matter what, but I use it more as a life lesson. I am now trying to surround myself with people that genuinely make me happy, and not people that bring me down.

1. You Can’t Please Everyone

Thank god jazzercise emphasizes this to me so much, because I absolutely need to remember it at all times. With jazzercise, I realized the truth of this statement when I started traveling and hitting a large variety of instructors.

You see, I have my favorites. There are some that I’ve had multiple times that I think are really nice people, but I don’t like their style. However, I’ve heard other people in the class say the same individual is their favorite instructor. There are different things I take into consideration – the intensity level, what they say during the routine, whether they emphasize certain moves that people typically get wrong, etc. There was one instructor that drove me insane because during leg routines she just yelled “get lower!” at us again and again no matter how low we went. There was another the other day that kept telling us to breathe through the nose, and that annoyed me (and also seemed weird since then literally five days later another instructor was yelling that we needed to breathe through the mouth).

The point is, as I’ve discussed multiple times with a friend, people like different things. Certain types of instructors resonate with me better. The reason this is so key for me to remember is that I too often fall in the trap of thinking EVERYONE should like me. When I used to train customers at work, I was devastated by every bad review. Let’s not even talk about how I now have a complex about my voice after a few complaints about it.

I realize this every time I jazzercise and I think I should really learn to keep it in mind every single day. If I can’t please everyone, and I can’t, I think it should be more important to do what makes me happy than worry about what other people are going to think.

There are other little things that jazzercise helps me learn, but those are the big ones. At this point I know that when I don’t get to go to jazzercise for a long period, it makes me cranky. We’ll see how that plays out this week since there’s not really a class nearby.