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Grocery Stores Are For Stalkers

I have been quiet for a long ass time now. This is mostly because after I graduated from college I’ve hardly left the house (work from home, bitches!), and for some reason blog-worthy things only happen to me when I’m out in public. Today is no exception.

I went on a standard errand run: bank, Starbucks, grocery store. The outing is pretty run of the mill, besides the fact that it’s already Satan-level hot here in Phoenix, until I get about halfway through the grocery store.

While standing in the liquor aisle perusing the wine shelves, an older gentleman (approximately 55-60 years old) walks by. I instinctively look over as most do when seeing movement in the corner of one’s eye and made eye contact. I turn back to the wine as the man comes down the aisle and proceeds to tell me I’m pretty and to have a nice day. I laugh nervously, say thank you, and tell him to have a nice day as well. He gets halfway down the aisle and tells me to have a Happy Easter, I let out another nervous laugh and a thank you, you too. A few seconds later he laughs, looks over at me, and tells me I confused him because he’s in the wrong aisle, he’s looking for marinades. I point him in the right direction, not wanting to be rude, and he tells me he hopes to see me again and walks away. Not 5 seconds later he comes back and introduces himself then walks away again.

At this point I’m a little creeped out but I’m thinking, ok, he paid me a compliment, maybe he’s just a lonely guy, no harm no foul. I continue on with my shopping hoping I don’t run into him again because if there’s one thing I detest, it’s running into the same awkward strangers over and over in a space that practically requires social interaction.

As I’m making my way to the check out line, he calls out to me from the self check out and says hi. I smile nervously and keep walking. A prick of self preservation starts to kick in. I pile my groceries onto the belt while trying to keep a casual eye on the guy and notice he keeps staring at me. I try to act like I’m unaware of his position in the store. I notice him walk as slowly as possible out the front door. I’m relieved that he’s gone and thankful he left before I did.

I walk out into the heat and brightness of the Phoenix sun pondering the fact that this guy practically stalked me through the grocery store, puzzled by his insistence to interact with me. I’m halfway to my car when he pulls up beside me in his truck and proceeds to ask if I happen to be single. Nope, married. I keep walking. I make sure to watch his truck as he drives away before pulling up to my car with my cart.

I half expected this guy to follow me home and watched my rearview mirror the entire way, fully ready to stab a bitch with my keys if I had to. It didn’t help that he reminded me of Stanley Tucci in The Lovely Bones. Barf.

My only question is this: WHY DO PEOPLE THINK THIS KIND OF BEHAVIOR IS OK???? 

I can understand paying a stranger a compliment once, MAYBE twice. But following them through a store and then waiting for them in a parking lot is completely ludicrous. Did he honestly think I would want to get to know him after all that???

FUCKING. CREEPER. WTF.

P.S. Rape culture. We haz it.

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I am a Human Popsicle

It’s fucking hot in Phoenix right now. It’s supposed to be monsoon season and while we’ve gotten bits of rain here and there, it’s just enough to keep the air humid and the temperatures at OH-MY-FUCKING-GOD-WTF.

SOOOO I have been MIA most of the summer due to an avalanche of work plus preparing my graduate school applications. Over the course of the last couple months I’ve been writing crap about my awesome self and letting my former thesis director tell me how much it sucks. Just this week I finalized my personal statement and managed to fill out most of my CV. I feel like some strange adolescent imposter parading around as an adult.

I’m applying to three schools. None of which are in the same region of the country nor are any close to where I currently live. All have actual seasons and winter and snow and frost bite and hot chocolate and scarves. While I love the winters in Arizona (they are gorgeous), it will be awesome to live in a colder climate for a couple years to remind myself why I decided to hate snow in the first place. Ten years in the desert makes one forget these things. Moving is going to be an utter pain in my husband’s ass.

I take the GRE in 4 weeks and I’m kind of freaking out. My insomnia is in full swing and I can only attribute it to the underlying anxiety about taking the stupid test. My application is pretty fucking good and I actually have a fighting chance of getting into my top school (Johns Hopkins – I know, whodathunkit by the bullshit I post on twitter and this blog???) but I have to attempt to get at least the 75th percentile or better. I am not performing that well on practice sets. Needless to say, sleep is failing me at night. Apparently afternoon naps are not though. Regardless, I have 4 weeks to get it into gear. Of course I planned TWO VACATIONS between now and then because I am fantastic and smrt.

Life is good otherwise. Busy, annoyed at the world like usual, but enjoying myself nonetheless.

 
 

Mad Libs From My Blog Search Terms

“Thousands of JNCO jeans ago, there were calendars that enabled the ancient jackass pubes to divide a year into twelve itchy pubes, each month into making fucking 6 weeks, and each week into seven stupid haircuts. At first, people told time by a sun clock, sometimes known as the Maynard dial. Ultimately, they invented the great timekeeping devices of today, such as the grandfather hobo or hipster, the pocket dancing turd, the alarm rainbow turd, and, of course, the accidental pubes watch. Children learn about clocks and time almost before they learn their ABF‘s. They are taught that a day consists of 24 dancing unicorns, an hour has 60 bad hipster trends, and a minute has 60 coughing turds. By the time they are in kindergarten, they know if the big horrendous haircut is at twelve and the little turd dancing is at three, that it is making fucking 6 o’clock. I wish we could continue this snarkley lesson, but we’ve run out of fat emo girls in tights.”

This makes me feel awesome about my blogs.

 
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Posted by on May 8, 2012 in ridiculousness

 

I Suck Complete Buttz & Other Assorted Ramblings

Remember when I said I’d blog more after graduating?

I fucking lied. I suck and I’m partially sorry.

It’s now May, I’ve been out of school since December, and I have done just about nothing but work, exercise a bunch, and help out with wedding shenanigans for my best friend.

I had a list of goals for 2012 and while I am nowhere near completing even half of them, I feel I am making significant progress in at least one area with my sights set on making the latter half of 2012 ridiculously productive and awesometastical.

I have been working out 4-5 days a week consistently since the first week of January. For the last 6 weeks I have worked out 5 days a week, completing Rusty’s (Fitness Black Book) Visual Impact Cardio Beginner’s Program. It’s an 8 week cardio intensive program designed around glycogen depleting intervals for maximum fat loss. I have lost 10 pounds in 6 weeks on this program and expect to be down a total of 14-15 pounds by the end of next week.

I have to say – this is the most successful exercise program I’ve ever tried. I eat sensibly (limit calories but count on a weekly basis instead of daily to accommodate for cheat days), try to get enough rest, attempt to stay active on off days and overall it’s been wildly successful. I lost 13 pounds from the first week of January through the end of March using a combination of interval training and low impact cardio. The weight loss was up and down and very inconsistent. I sometimes went weeks without losing anything. I’ve lost 10 pounds in half the time with Rusty’s program so I think it’s safe to say his program is much more efficient than my previous program given the consistent results I’ve seen so far.

A bit of background: I began P90x as a New Year’s Resolution in the beginning of 2011. I managed to drop about 20 pounds but it took a grueling 7 months to do so. In August I fell off the workout wagon and dove headfirst into my final semester of college basically eating my way through writing and defending my honors thesis. It took 7 months to lose 20 pounds and only 3 fucking months to gain it all back plus a pound.

Needless to say, January’s initial weigh-in was super depressing. It’s been severely slow going but after 4 months of hard work, my efforts are finally paying off. My body is changing, I’m losing weight fairly predictably, and I’m happy with the caliber of workouts from Rusty’s program.

While I definitely won’t be swimsuit ready by summertime, I’m hoping to be somewhat close to my goal by my birthday in November. My weight loss resolution was to look better at 30 than I did at 20. Meaning I must get below 167 pounds. I have 32 pounds to shed in 6 months. Think I can do it?? If not, I’m going to cry into the gigantic-est bowl of Wheaties you’ve ever goddamn seen, letmetellya.

SO. While I have yet to get cranking on my graphic novel and story ideas and have epically failed in the blogging department, it’s nice to know I’ve been able to focus on at least one of my goals so far this year.

Stay tuned for more updates. I promise you fuckers I will be blogging more!!!!

 
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Posted by on May 8, 2012 in exercise, ridiculousness

 

Yuppie, Hipster, Hobo, I Don’t Fucking Know

People, I’m embroiled in a dilemma.

As the 20-teens swing into full gear, I’m noticing the fashion and music trends that will (I’m guessing) define this particular era of history.

In the 80s it was big hair, big metal, yuppies, and bad music that we hate to love (and in some cases love to hate). In the 90s we saw the emergence and death of grunge, flannel, ridiculously wide-legged jeans, bubblegum pop music, backwards jeans, and other horrendous fashion atrocities I’d rather not recall at this exact moment (think Marilyn Manson and striped tights – guilty).

Actual jeans I owned in the 90s. I could fit a carton of cigarettes in the back of the leg pockets.

The first decade of the 21st century saw the emergence and popularization of trends such as skinny jeans, emo haircuts, shitty emo music, and shitty emo everything else. This period also saw a resurgence in the popularity of electropop ala Lady Gaga that has successfully segued into mainstream music of the 20-teens.

I'm so emo I could cry. And am. You just can't see it because I'm wearing so much fucking horrendous makeup. Also my stupid haircut is obscuring part of my face where the tears are produced.

Over the course of the last couple years, the term “hipster” has been thrown around, mostly as an insult, pretty much everywhere. I’ve seen it on blogs, twitter, G4, magazines, and wherever else pop culture might be mentioned.

The term hipster has existed at least since the jazz era when it was appropriated by well-off white kids trying to be cool. This evolved into the beat kids and hippies of the 60s that we all know and love (to hate). Hipsters eventually evolved into what we have come to know as (usually) well-off semi-young people with tastes, interests, and fashion sense of eras-gone-by and obscure shit no one (hopefully) knows about.

Fuck The Man, ya hip? I dig, Sally Sasserwipe.

In previous eras, lines of demarcation were firmly established between subcultures and one could easily be identified based on the style of dress. If you looked like you could possibly shit bats, never showered, or curse someone with your heavily eye-linered eyeballs, chances are you were/are a Manson goth. If you had big teased hair, wore leather, and listened to and/or made shitty rock music, chances are you are a fucking douchebag from the 80s and your name is Bret Michaels.

99% sure he's a chick. With lip implants.

The problem with this new “hipster” era of pop culture is that the definitions are fucking blurry and no one can seem to agree just what the fuck defines a hipster. Rather, most people have no idea what hipster means and love to label anyone that might slightly resemble said type of person.

I think I have come to save the day. And possibly my own sanity. You see, dear readers, I have been wondering for the past few months if Yours Truly is turning into a hipster.

Evidence to the case in point:

1. I’ve started to love music that sounds as if it should be the score to an indy movie. If this isn’t utterly damning, I don’t know what is. Driving around listening to music that makes me feel like I’m in a low budget, depressing but not completely terrible movie starring Kieran Culkin or Kristen Stewart, is kind of like heaven at this stage in my life.

I might actually love him more than his older and significantly less attractive brother. I have a Culkin fetish apparently.

2. I started wearing flannel again. But not actual flannel. Stylized flannel. As in, tailored and fitted and body forming. The flannel of today is not, I repeat NOT, the flannel we were wearing when Kurt Cobain was un-soberly warbling into a microphone. That shit was thick, itchy, and not at all flattering to the female figure. We actually looked like lumberjacks then. We look more like lumberinas now.

3. I own more Apple products than pairs of underwear, possibly. Self explanatory. I was actually in line the day the iPhone was originally released and it was so awesome to be one of the first people to use it and wow, please don’t taser me in a dark alley behind the coffee house I’m sure you’ve never heard of…

4. I know too much about weird or obscure shit that typically makes eyes glaze over when I talk. I can’t help it, I just have a thirst for learning and I’m sorry if that makes you feel belittled because you don’t know as much as I do, or don’t care, or whatever. This is what happens when your teen years were full of angst, depression, pot, and Super Nintendo.

5. I own and have seen too many obscure or indy movies. I owned Donnie Darko before it was cool.

Ok, so those are the main points about my current tastes and personality that possibly push me into hipster territory. However, I do not buy designer jeans that look like my sister vomited and/or accidentally poured a cup of bleach in the washing machine and/or attacked me with scissors. I don’t hang out at coffee houses. I don’t have an art/philosophy/liberal arts degree and I don’t pretend that some earlier era was better than the current era. I do smoke (occasionally) cigarettes no one has ever heard of but mostly because they taste better than other cigarettes (they also used to be popular but hardly anyone sells them anymore). Also I love pop culture and current trends and watch more television than the average person probably should.

Where the line begins to blur is in deciding if these various evidences for being (or not being) a hipster actually count. I have seen multiple definitions of “hipster” and there seems to be disagreement. The most common I have seen is Apple-loving, obscure-shit-loving, coffee-house-drinking, trust fund babies who love to tell you how much you don’t know about everything that’s underground.

Another definition states that a hipster is someone who appropriates the styles and music of an earlier era without actually knowing or caring about the origins of said styles and music while simultaneously exclaiming older eras are better than the current one. In order to appear more impressive or cool or hip, they wear retro styled clothing, listen to music that was made in a garage in 1972, and hang around locally owned and managed restaurants, bars, and coffee houses.

There is obvious overlap here but I think the main point between both of these definitions is that hipsters are just douchebags. Plain and simple. If they act above you, talk down to you, pretend as if their interests are deeper or somehow more meaningful than yours because they shop at some obscure store or own a record of a crappy garage band from the 70s or refuse to watch mainstream movies, television, or what-have-you, they are a hipster. Not all flannel-wearing, indy movie-watching, Apple-loving people are douchebags. I am actually quite nice and typically know when to shut the hell up about the weird Kieran Culkin movie I just watched.

To summarize: I am sort of a hipster but I am not a douchebag. I am sort of a hipster but only because of my particular interests and not necessarily my fashion sense. I am minimally a hipster. I guess I should hate myself and love it. Or love myself and hate it. I’m not sure. The dilemma continues.

**I honestly don’t know how to categorize those hipsters that fall into the obvious “hobo” category. If you dress like you just had a style consultation with Oscar the fucking Grouch, you have serious issues and need to seek  immediate attention from a mental health advisor. Don’t be surprised if the latter half of the 20teens is hobo inspired.**

Does he need change or did he just break his iPhone screen? I can't tell.

 
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Posted by on January 27, 2012 in Ponderings, ridiculousness

 

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Happy Fucking New Year’s Resolutions Six Years in the Making

Hey, I’m a fucking college graduate now. Isn’t that fantastic?

I feel as if I should apologize for the lack of blogging around here but to be honest, this blog is usually pretty dead anyway so I doubt I was missed (much).

The semester flew by. I survived my honors thesis defense. I survived both graduation ceremonies I attended. I went to Vegas for Christmas which was surprisingly nice and as relaxed as it could be given my issues with relaxing.

It should surprise no one that knows me personally that I still have no idea how to relax. After six grueling years completing my bachelor’s degree while working, the only life I really know anymore is GO GO GO GO GO, so now that I no longer have classes to snore through and meetings to attend life is becoming this wide open vista of OPPORTUNITY! AWESOMENESS! HOLY SHITNESS! And also ANXIETTYYYY (but that’s nothing new). So in the spirit of this whole New Year’s thing, I decided to lay out a few of my immediate goals post-college for all to read.

Goals and other random shit that may not really look like a goal but I promise it probably is in some strange way:

1) Graduate school is going to wait a few years. I need a solid break from academia. I honestly have no real clue what I want to do with my life anyway so I figure I’ll take the next few years and focus on myself.

2) Research and begin sketching out my graphic novel about the French chemist Antoine Lavoisier and his wife. Make a map of characters, timelines, etc. Dear god there is so much work to be done on this, it makes me hyperventilate just contemplating it…

3) Flesh out the 4 stories (and counting) that have been swimming around in my head for the past (at least) three years. Bang head against wall because I don’t have 8 arms and 5 heads to write and think about all of them simultaneously.

4) Beat Skyward Sword for fuck’s sake. I’ve had the game for almost 2 months now. Get with it, dumb ass.

5) Learn more about cyclothymia. Yeah.

6) Get glasses. Seriously. It’s been two years now. The daily migraines have got to stop. I feel like a hamster is trying to claw its way out of my skull.

7) Read as much science fiction as possible. I’m obsessed with science and technology and dystopias. Please leave suggestions in the comments.

8) Read the ridiculously long list of books I’ve been compiling over the years. This is also daunting but I feel smarter already.

9) Play Super Mario Galaxy 1. Then 2. Repeat.

10) Play Ocarina of Time. Again…

11) And again…

12) Get back into meditating.

13) Lose all the weight I’ve gained over six years of attending college and then some. Hefferlump.

14) Relearn piano and start making some fucking music for once.

15) There are more goals but I can’t remember them at the present moment.

As you can see, I’m in need of a hypomanic episode in which I can blast through a few of these goals in record time. I *have* managed to read 4 books so far and I’m reading at least 5 others right now, switching around depending on my mood. Hopefully I’ll get around (aka get in the mood) to write a review of the Millenium Trilogy (The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, etc) in the coming weeks but don’t hold your breath. I wouldn’t want my one or two readers to pass out and possibly die, that would be a damn shame.

Hearts and Unicorn Farts!

 
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Posted by on January 5, 2012 in Ponderings, ridiculousness, school

 

I Just Couldn’t Take It Anymore

So, hi. It’s been nearly 5 weeks since I blogged last and I was getting tired of my latest blog being about 9/11. Not that 9/11 isn’t a great topic of interest but YEEAAHHHH….

Things I’ve been busy doing:

1) Writing the rough draft of my honors thesis (submitted!)
2) Drowning in school work (paper after paper, tests, mentoring)
3) Not cleaning my house
4) Clinging to Twitter as my only real social outlet since I’ve been stuck at home doing school bullshit
5) Denying to myself that I’m turning into a fucking hipster (iTunes is crying as we speak)
6) Dealing with almost daily migraines
7) Playing with my new iPhone 4S
8 ) Anxiously awaiting Breaking Dawn

In other words, I have nothing really interesting to say at the moment. Hopefully I’ll have something more fulfilling to write about later. I wouldn’t hold your breath though.

This post was brought to you by the letters C and R for Completely Random.

 
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Posted by on October 18, 2011 in neurotic tendencies, school