I’m a racist?

So I’m just sitting here, doing nothing and rocking out to my music — per usual. Rihanna’s “Hard” just came on and I’m bumpin…in my desk chair. But hey, I love to dance and can’t contain all.of.this. This song has been out for what? A couple of years now? And I just learned that I’ve been singing the wrong lyrics the entire time. But the lyrics I’ve been singing aren’t just wrong, they’re down right racist. But I figured, whatever, Rihanna’s black (ish. Yes, I know she’s Barbadian but generally we can classify that as being black right? It’d be like saying Christina is not white just because she insists on informing people she’s Native American… ohkaythen… Blonde hair, blue eyes, Native American.) so it’s OK to just sing along. But apparently I should’ve googled those lyrics long before I belted out what I thought they were while parked oh-so-many-times at a red light with the top down on my car for all to hear. Maybe.

Well there’s a part in the song where she starts questioning where people are at. And I thought the words were:

“Where my black girls at
Where me black girls at,
Where they at, where they at, where they at?

Where my light ones at,
Where my light ones at,
Where they at, where they at, where they at?”

And I thought I was so cool and hip, all YEAH I’m your light one, Rihanna! Where you at? No, no. The words in fact have nothing to do with race. The real lyrics to the song are:

“Where dem bloggers at
Where dem bloggers at
Where they at, where they at, where they at?

Where your lighters at,
Where your lighters at,
Where they at, where they at, where they at?”

Ha-ha-he ahh whoopsie. But come on, you can’t tell me that it doesn’t slightly sound like what I was singing.

Disclaimer — I’ve actually been nervous to come across as racist in the past since I grew up as this sheltered, suburban, white girl so I tried googling “is it racist to say ‘black’?” Well, the first search result was a Yahoo Answer to the question “Is it racist to say black is ugly?” Yes, 1800 Irish Soccer Coach Advice, that is indeed a racist question. Thanks for making me feel better.


How to catch a Sex Thinker

There is no excuse for the delay, there really isn’t. I can’t even come with anything creative. I sit on the couch and eat cheese puffs and talk about working out and even make a good show of putting on my gym shoes…only to get distracted by ‘I Didn’t Know I was Pregnant’ and call it a day. So there you have it.

Do you ever think about sex? Of course you do, everyone does, we are actually genetically programmed too. So yes, you do think about sex. Be less obvious about it. Seriously. I have a very unfortunate knack for catching people when they are clearly thinking about it. And no folks, I’m not staring at anyones trousers or anything. It’s all in the face. People have a “I’m thinking about sex’ face. Although I can’t really present statistics or findings to prove this theory, because I’m not all ‘YO YOU ARE THINKING ABOUT SEX RIGHT NOW I CAN TOTES TELL’. But there are clues.

1. The half lidded eye.


That’s an Asian, not to be confused with this…

James Franco is ALWAYS thinking about sex.

2. The lip biting.


Lip biting is key. Seriously KStew get the peen of your brain girl. Also, go to acting school.

3. Finger in or near the mouth. Oral fixation folks.


5. O-Face in the wrong place, I prefer to call these people ‘Lazy Pervs’.


Seriously, look around.

I am my mother’s daughter

Sometimes I feel that people look at me and just wonder, whaaa? I know I’m random, I have odd bursts of energy, and I have the potential to be louder than a sonic boom. But I’ve always viewed those characteristics as charming qualities that help make me unique. I can understand, though, why some of my friends have called me “draining” before. It’s exhausting to talk to someone and have their random, trivial thoughts be the constant focal point of a conversation. And I know this, because I am my mother’s daughter.

My mom is one of my most favorite people in the world. So much so, that when we were asked in high school what time period we would travel back to if we could, I answered “When my mom was my age, because I think we would be really fun friends.” And I stand by that answer to this day. I’ve always thought it would be interesting to see what my parents were like before they became my parents, though I’m fairly certain my mom was exactly how I am — just with a bit more tact and class. The following is literally a texting conversation I had with my mom that only confirms the fact that I am a younger version of her.

Mom 12:47: I found a baby deer because we are having major gas leaks throughout our house. WOW!!
Me 12:48: Our house has gas leaks?!
Mom 12:49: I’m hoping he’s not dying. He doesn’t want to wake up!!
Mom 12:49: He’s awake!!!
Me: 12:50: Shouldn’t you leave? Is it safe?
Mom 1:07: The gas guy knows a woodsman and he said sometimes the mom leaves the babies when they are resting to gather food for herself. Not sure on that one! Lol
Me 1:07: What about the gas leaks?
Mom 1:08: Found your belt in all the commotion!! haha

So yeah. Our house had major gas leaks and my mom felt she should keep me informed about a finding a baby deer and my belt. And I could totally see that as something I would focus on too. Good news though, mom’s still alive, as is the deer! Here’s a pic she sent me during the conversation.

Well hello, Summer. I’ve missed you.

For the last two-ish months, it has done nothing but rain in Cleveland, which made for some of the most depressed looking people I have ever seen, myself included. Vacation was absolutely perfect with nothing but sun and fun for five days straight. Meanwhile, back home, our family and friends were experiencing snowball sized hail and tornadoes. Sucks. At least that’s what I kept chuckling to myself while laying on the beach…right up until I had to fly through one of the storms in order to get back. You are one hell of a bitch, Karma. One hell of a bitch. I’m seriously glad I’m alive. The lighting was striking so close at one point that I thought I saw Zeus, Jupiter, and Thor join forces and wield those bolts themselves. It.was.RUF. But I made it! And since then, the weather has improved dramatically and has reached the level where it’s warm and sunny enough to declare that SUMMER HAS ARRIVED!

My friends and I were talking about how great it would be to create a summer bucket list in order to do as many things as we possibly can. And with this weekend coming up, we’re off to a great start and will be crossing two activities off our list! Great Lakes Brewery Tour and a Summer Concert. I’ve been wanting to go on the brewery tour since the moment I turned 21 but for the last two years I either didn’t live here or didn’t want to believe I lived here. But this summer will be different. Now, there are two words why the tour will be amazing: beer and free. Any place that has great beer is already ranking high in my books, but add to that fact that the tour is free and this place jumps to #1. Oh, and change up the order of those two words and there’s free beer involved?! SOLD! Except not even because it’s free. It’s such a beautiful concept. After we enjoy the tour Friday, most of us will get back together on Saturday for the first Indians Music Festival that will feature Brad Paisley, Blake Shelton, Jerrod Neimann, and 7 other country artists. Oh, and something called a “Water Works” area that will have slip ‘n slides, dunk tanks, fishing simulators, and race car simulators… It’s like the world is giving us permission to be 7 again! Props to Jena for nabbing the Groupon discount and getting us all tickets for a measly $20! That’s right. Brad, Blake, Jerrod and others along with water activities all at The Jake (any self-respecting Clevelander will NEVER refer to the Indians Stadium as Progressive Field or The Prog… That was so laughable when they tried to make that nickname happen) for only TWENTY DOLLARS. I absolutely cannot wait for this shambles-fest. My track record with concerts hasn’t been too great this year though so I’m hoping for a better outcome.

The first was a Joshua Radin (please marry me) concert back in January. He came to the House of Blues on what happened to be the second worst blizzard Cleveland had this past winter. My little Pontiac Sunfire convertible was sliding all over the streets of downtown and once we finally made it there, Christina and I were stuck behind a herd of real Asians cuddling and breathing a bit too close to us. Then, at the beginning of May, some friends came up from Cincinnati to go to the Sugarland concert out at Blossom. Blossom is probably the coolest venue to have a concert because it’s outside and versatile for any type of performance. The only downside is if it rains… Please refer to the first sentence of this post in order to guess what kind of weather we had. YEP, rain. But the worst part was that it was a teasing rain. Weather.com called for the usual daily storm we had been experiencing at the time so I prepared for a night of sitting in water logged everything. But then a miracle happened! It was nice out! My friends and I thought we were in the clear to enjoy a night of great music and perfect weather. That is until thunder cracked during the last song. The heavens opened and poured all the water that was supposed to be falling throughout the entire day all at once, during our 20 minute walk back to the car.

If any of you have been to Blossom before, then you also know that not only do you get to sit on the grass during a show, but you also park in the grass fields nearby. Once again, VERY PROBLEMATIC when it rains. My car got stuck in the mud within the first 25 feet of driving and there was no hope. AAA couldn’t come because the entrances were now all exits, but don’t worry, they suggested to “flag down” a Blossom employee for help. Meanwhile, the field is quickly starting to flood and the mud is now well past my ankles but I start to traipse around in the pitch dark looking for anything resembling a helpful hand. And then I see it. A tow truck’s flashing lights at the other end of the field. I start running…err gallop glopping…for it, weaving around the other stranded cars. I fall, I get back up. Girls flash me, I wave them on. Finally I reach it. I’m out of breath but I manage to beg for help.

“Sure, no problem. We’ll be right over. Where did you say your car was?”
“Ahhh THANK YOU THANK YOU. It’s on the other side and is red with a black top and… umm.” As I’m talking, I finally get a better look at the truck. “Is your truck sinking?”
“Huh? Oh, uh yeah.”
“Sooo are you stuck in the mud too?”
“Technically…yes. But see that truck over there trying to get in? It’s coming to pull me out.”
“Oh.” Smile. “Ok, great.”
“But it’s a flat bed and can’t come on the field because it’ll get stuck too.”
“Then how exactly…are you…supposed to get me out…if you can’t GET OUT EITHER?!”
“I told you we’ll be right..Ohhh heyyy ladies!”

Aaaand the flashing girls were back.

I might as well have laid down and made some mud angels because they would’ve been a better option. I trudged all the way back to my car (which was also running on empty at this point) and tried one last time to push it out myself. Then, out of the mud emerged two swamp men asking if I wanted help. I actually cried a little I was so happy. The three of us managed to get my car out and since my clothes were destroyed at that point, I decided it was better to ride home in just my underwear and tank top rather than dirty the inside of my car too. Which was just a lovely site for the tollbooth worker. You’re welcome, sir.

Even though it’s supposed to rain this Saturday, at least this concert will be downtown so chances are it won’t end quite as disastrous. Then again, I wouldn’t be surprised if it did. I won’t complain though because IT’S FINALLY SUMMER! And everything is better in the summer.

An apology, kind of.

Oof. I’m so lazy it’s getting to the point where I don’t even open bottles any more if they are new because I struggle with the grooves. It’s not even like I don’t have energy, Justine will tell you I’m like a neurotic crack addict, I’m all OMG EVERYTHING IS SHINY I HAVE TO TOUCH IT. I don’t know. I think I have depression which is fine but my doctor put me on Xanax just so I would stop having panic attacks due to my extreme paranoia and hypochondria, do you know how bothersome it is to think you are going to get kidnapped by everyone while thinking you have the avian flu? So It’s not like I can even go on Zoloft because that’s a whole lot going on in my belly at once and since it’s already hard for me to even think about peeing at work, I can’t imagine that combo will be helpful to my joke of an a digestive system. But whatever I’m not even sad I’m just lacking in motivation. Every time I see that commercial and it’s like “Is it hard for you to motivate yourself?’ I immediately think ‘Why yes, yes it is!’ I’m totally on board until the happy people montage where everyones all my life is awesome now that I’m on the prescription drugzzzz…and you are kind of distracted because wow that’s a lot of running and jumping and you almost miss ‘has been known to cause chronic fatigue, nosebleeds, and in some rare cases, stroke.’ NO THANK YOU.

But that was my attempt at an explanation as to why I haven’t been around. Justine was gracious enough to keep you all entertained. I got a new job. I really like it a lot. I don’t know what to do with this sort of contentment so I just sort of sit there waiting to get yelled at, which hasn’t happened yet. Look at me being a grown up! I even pack my lunches in a brown paper bag which I feel is pretty progressive of me. Because you can recycle that shit and I want people to think I care about that. Which I do, if I can find a recycling bin that doesn’t require me to go up stairs.

I was going to spend this time discussing my intense hatred for Christian rednecks but I feel like I should save it for later which really means a few days, I totes promise. I’m back, for real y’all. Plus I got a brazilian bikini wax by 7 foot woman named Roshida…so that will probably come up.

Ultimate Fail

I like that we apologize for our abandonment and beg for your love and mercy only to do the exact same thing in even less time. But hey, it’s like a real relationship, right? Right?! Yes. But seriously, I am sorry for completely leaving you behind. Once again, I’m back!

And to keep the honesty train rolling, I was inspired to post again after reading some of my fav blogs and seeing their success (2birds1blog, life2pointoh, hyperbole and a half just to name a few) and the fact that my friends created their own blog to track their frugalness of living at school this summer. Hobosummer.blogspot.com — check it out!  Basically, the principle is simple — spend as little as possible without being admitted to the hospital for malnutrition or something similar. Now, there are two reasons why I love this blog and idea.

1. I’m one of the cheapest people alive.

Well, I used to be one of the cheapest people alive. Though I now have some money due to selling my soul for the last year and becoming an “adult,” I most certainly didn’t have any money during college. (Also, to clarify, I don’t want to come across as someone who “has money.” I live at home with my parents and can basically pocket the pennies I do make. And even though I still have to ration my spending, compared to these two, I’m Donald fucking Trump.) I worked with both Josh and Chelsea at our university’s writing center (as did Christina, ahh mems), and we call all attest that living off of minimum wage at a school of trust fund babies isn’t the easiest thing. I honestly lived off of grilled cheese and vodka my Junior year alone. Oh, and buttered noodles.

2. Competitions excite me. Done and done.

I know both of these people and let me say honestly, this could be a great competition. The determination, the willpower, the smack-talking — ALL GOLDEN. Josh and Chelsea both seem to have a good idea of just exactly how they are going to watch their spending, and you’ll have to go to their blog to see just how, but I would like to point out one thing regarding something Josh said. In reference to a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, Josh claims “I eat it in bites, it takes me four hours to finish it.” Who the fuck are you, you mutant child? I had a PB&J for lunch today and thought, huh. Let’s give this a whirl. One hour. ONE, not four. It just sat there taunting me as my stomach growled and even howled at one point. So on that note, I’m already impressed and the summer has just begun for them.

So good luck to both of you!

Christina and I are off to Florida for some boozin and beachin so don’t expect a post over the next several days. HA! See? It is like a real relationship. You give us nothing but love and all you get in return are some weak, empty promises.


That really about sums it up. I haven’t forgotten, I’m working on a new post. I FEEL BAD ABOUT EVERYTHING. I’m drinking more coffee then I ever have in my life. PEOPLE THINK IM ON THE DRUGS!

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