Monthly Archives: January 2010

Tell Her She’s Beautiful

I was just admittedly creeping Facebook, and saw that a few of my friends were attending an event titled ‘Tell Her She’s Beautiful.’ Curiosity got the best of me, so obviously I had to check it out. After reading the description, I wasn’t entirely sure I thought it was a good idea. The creator of this event, one Joshua Amar, says on the page, “I’m making this event so everyone can tell anyone that they think is beautiful, that they are beautiful. Just tell them. They don’t hear it enough, and they want to hear it. Tell anyone; tell your friend, your mother, your sister, your cousin, your dog for all I care. Let’s show girls that we don’t care about the standards that they set for themselves and that we like them the way they are.” Even though I hate all things cliché, I can’t help but agree that this statement is unbelievably cute, especially considering that most women would love to be doted on by a male who complemented their appearance. Of all compliments that you expect to hear from guys, being beautiful is fairly typical and standard. Instead of devoting a day (or in this case, a week) to telling  ‘her’ she’s beautiful, why not give her a really random, genuine compliment that you came up with yourself, one that comes from the heart? You tell the funniest jokes. I love the way you scrunch up your nose when you laugh. No one sweeps the floor as well as you do. The point I’m trying to make here is that the more mundane the nature of the compliment, the more likely it is to be appreciated. Women are not naïve and they know that they do not look beautiful everyday. However, they do know that they scrunch up their nose each time they laugh or sweeps the floor the same way. Every time they catch themselves engaging in such behavior, they will think of the compliment that you once gave them and smile (or at least I would.) So instead of focusing on ‘her’ beauty, give her a compliment that she’s probably never heard before. I guarantee that she will remember it for a long time.

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The Purpose of Partying

Every Friday and Saturday evening across the nation, single women are spending hours getting dolled up and ‘sexified’ for the partying scene that is the weekends. Hours go into preparation for these events: outfit must be perfect, makeup needs to look nice but not trashy, and hair cannot look out of control. All of this effort is needed in an attempt to lure a man, which is absolutely pathetic. I am sick of trying to look good when I go out to parties. By going to a party looking way nicer than I usually do, I’m making a man think he’s getting something that he really isn’t. With this being said, I have developed a great new concept where every party goer would know exactly what they were getting themselves into. Have a party on a Sunday morning, the night after everyone has gone out to have a good time. Chances are that people attending this gathering will be tired and hung over, not at their prime social and physical prowess. Next, make sure that everyone comes in their pajamas. By wearing baggy, unflattering clothing, you aren’t being judged on how bangin’ hot your body is.  Lastly, make sure everyone is grumpy. Given the circumstances, I doubt that anyone would be really happy, so before you are forced to spend any considerable amount of time with people, you already know their worse traits. Realistically though, this party is never going to happen. Tonight I am going to a party, and I’m going to try something different. I’m not wearing any makeup and not trying in the least bit to look sexy: just cover my body and not look like a total bum. I’m not looking for someone who is as shallow as a parking lot puddle, therefore I don’t want someone coming up to me just because they think I look attractive. If someone is ballsy enough to approach me when I’m not looking my best, then they’re a keeper.

We’re Bringing Clunker Back

A parody my friends and I made in high school about my multi-colored VW Golf, which I totaled this summer. Looking back, it seems really silly but it truly was both genius and hilarious when it was created.

We’re Bringing Clunker Back – to the tune of  ‘Sexy Back’ by Justin Timberlake

I’m bringing clunker back

All you clunkers don’t know how to act

Especially when I sound like crap

When our bumpers are back to back

Take it to the junkyard!

(Bridge)

Dirty car!

You see the driver and you are afraid

I’ll let you ride me if I’m in the way

It’s just that no one knows just what to say

Take it to the ditch!

(Chorus)

Get of da road

Watch out, I’ll pass you!

See clunker go

Watch out, I’ll pass you!

VIC

Oh yeah, I passed you!

Dirt’s on me

Because I passed you!

Let me see who you’re with

As I pass you!

Look at the smoke

I shouldn’t have passed you!

You make me sputter

I cannot pass you!

Go ahead by

I just can’t pass you!

Turn your clunker on

Watch out I’ll pass you

(6X)

Turn your clunker on!

I’m bringing clunker back

All you clunkers don’t know how to act

My door handle is a little out of whack

‘Cause I was in a race and came in last

Take it to the junkyard!

(Bridge) (Chorus)

I’m bringing clunker back

All you clunkers don’t know how to act

If that’s a cop you better watch your back

My paint is chipping and that’s a fact

Take it to the ditch!

(Chorus) (Bridge)

Turn your clunker on!

Watch out, I’ll pass you

(6X)

Turn your clunker on!

You ready?

You ready?

Teen Pregnancy is NOT Glamorous

Remember a time when teen pregnancy was frowned upon? When people didn’t aspire to have as many kids as they could before they graduated from high school? Well, think again. In the early 90s, the school board in my hometown built a new high school, complete with a day care for all the mommies who were still attending. As the new millennium approached, the teen pregnancy rate decreased significantly and the day care was shut down. Unfortunately, this trend is increasing again, and in my opinion, out of control.  Personally I feel that you should only have kids when you are both financially and psychologically ready to be a parent. I know that when I was 16, I wanted to watch movies with my friends, go to the mall, and attend sporting events; changing diapers and preparing bottles were not at the top of my to-do list. Thanks to shows like ‘Teen Mom’ and ’16 and Pregnant’ as well as ‘The Pregnancy Pact’ young, un-planned pregnancy is being glamorized by the media. For the most part, teen moms do not marry the father of their child, do not go to college, and struggle to even graduate from high school, all things which these women deserve to have the opportunity to do. It’s hard enough to raise a child, let alone without the involvement of the father or while trying to graduate from high school. I feel bad for these young women, I wish they would realize that being a young mom isn’t as glamorous as the television media portrays it. Use protection, and don’t have babies until your ready. Simple.

Cellar

Root Cellar

Nothing would sleep in that cellar, dank as a ditch,

Bulbs broke out of boxes hunting for chinks in the dark,

Shoots dangled and drooped,

Lolling obscenely from mildewed crates,

Hung down long yellow evil necks, like tropical snakes.

And what a congress of stinks!

Roots ripe as old bait,

Pulpy stems, rank, silo-rich,

Leaf-mold, manure, lime, piled against slippery planks.

Nothing would give up life:

Even the dirt kept breathing a small breath.

– Theodore Roethke (1908-1963)

I was reading this poem for my poetry class last night, and I couldn’t help but think of my own basement (or as my family refers to it, down cell-ah). My house is one of the very few left who still have a root cellar, although I always knew it as a potato cellar. In our dining room, there is a hatch that, when lifted, reveals a dark hole into our basement. Although we don’t use ours to store bulbs and pulpy stems, we do keep our useless, unneeded items down there. After reading this poem, I was inspired to tell my roommates all about my basement. My great-grandfather built the house on a rock foundation from remnants of a house that had burned down. The basement floods every time it rains and has an odd mildewy smell that I happen to adore. Whenever we have visitors, my mother makes sure they stay far away from the basement, because it’s an embarrassing eye-sore. For some reason though, I have always loved that basement. The smell, the creepiness, the fact that we have a secret hideout, called a root-cellar. I would never trade that basement for one with a media room, or windows. I’ll take the one I have happily.

Say What You Need to Say

Some people are way better than others at opening up to people and showing their inner emotions. I am not one of them. I tend to safe-guard my feelings to the point where I risk losing relationships with people, and its time that I make an attempt to overcome that fear. I have absolutely no idea how I got to be this way, but now it’s just a really annoying habit that I have. I hate showing any intense, strong emotions to people, as I feel they are feelings that are too personal to share with the public. It started out that I didn’t like to cry in front of anyone. Then it escalated to not being able to tell people how I feel about them. You think it would be easy, to tell someone you are crazy angry at them or that you love them. Not for me. It isn’t necessarily a fear of rejection either. I blame it on the fact that when I was younger, I was innocent and naïve, pouring my heart out to a hateful group of friends. They were backstabbers of the worst variety and they ended up hurting me in the end. After I had paid my dues to these less than friendly friends, I met my very best friends, who later moved half way across the country to go to school in another state. None of the people who I have ever opened up to have stayed in close proximity to me (physically, at least) and I think that my fear is that I will lose whoever I open up to. I am now at a crossroads of opening up. I realize that there are a few people I need to share my feelings with, but I don’t want to creep them out. All I really need to do is listen to John Mayer obsessively and repeatedly chant the mantra “say what you need to say.” If only it were that easy.

The Virtues of Frugality

I am definitely not a cheap-skate, and I have nothing against spending a little here and there, but it disgusts me how Americans increasingly over-extend themselves into debt. People seem to have no regards of the concept of saving: that you can’t just have something the minute you want it. In the town where I’m from, it’s particularly disgusting. Everyone is very focused on their reputation. The women frequent tanning beds, have perfectly manicured nails (that you can guarantee they didn’t do themselves), drive around in big SUVs, talk about their most recent vacations, and chat incessantly on their cell phones. Observing this, you would think that these people have TONS of money, until you realize the setting is rural Maine. The big, shiny SUVs (which I have to share, my dad calls stupid useless vehicles) are parked outside double-wide trailers and the occupants are living paycheck to paycheck. Just to keep up appearances. On the opposite end of the spectrum are people like my dad, who refuse to go on vacation until we can pay for everything in cash, whose idea of owning a car is when you can pay for it all at once.  My dad is seriously preparing for a financial holocaust. I wish that people would stop uselessly spending their money. Nobody cares about what kind of car you drive, or where you buy your clothes. What people DO care about are less privileged people. Instead of buying a new car, how about saving some? Or, if you feel the burning need to spend it, give some money to the Haiti relief effort. Stop being shallow, really.