WCW: Why Care What (People Think)?

You are beautiful when you are yourself, not when you’re whining for a shoutout, props, holla-back, or whatever you want to call it on Instagram.

Wednesdays were created for people to see the glass half full. My mentality on Wednesday is usually, “If I can make it past Monday and especially Tuesday, I am strong enough to push through. LORD GIVE ME THE STRENGTH.” (except not really the Lord part because I’m not that religious).

When I see people populating my news feed with pictures of pretty women and hashtags like #WCW #MyEverything #Woman #Crush #Wednesday #HumpDay #Hump #Her #Women #Live #Laugh #Love, it makes me think that there is nothing left for our society to fuck up. You’ve already ruined my Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays, and if you forgot to post your #SelfieSaturday on Saturday, THANKFULLY A DAY LIKE SUNDAY EXISTS FOR THE INFAMOUS #SelfieSunday POST.

Let’s think outside of the box for a second. Wouldn’t you love to take part in #WaffleWednesday? #WickedWednesdays where you post something that’s totally WICKED (only my MA peeps can adequately participate)? #WeightLossWednesday? #WisdomWednesday? Yeah, you know I like #WisdomWednesday. It gives users a change to prove that they’re more than just robots behind a cell phone screen and know more than a three-syllable word.

Woman Crush Wednesdays were created by women, of course, and it better be women that destroy it and burn it down to the ground – because we know men never will.

Now Playing: “Enemy” – the Weeknd. The Weeknd always has me feeling some type of way. AND DO YOU GET WHY I’M LISTENING TO THE WEEKND WHILE WRITING A BLURB ABOUT THE DAYS OF THE WEEK. YA KNOW? DO YOU GET IT? YEAH? L-O-L.

Players Only ♥ You When They’re Playing

Isn’t it funny when guys don’t text you back? Or wait until the next full moon to do so? LOL. HILARIOUS.

If you’re a woman and you tell the man you’re talking to that it doesn’t bother you when he replies to your “What’s up?” text four days after the fact, you’re a damn liar.

If you’re a woman and you tell the guy you’re talking to that it doesn’t bother you when he doesn’t text you back at least a couple of hours later, you’re a damn liar.

AND if you’re a woman and you allow yourself to sit there and wait by your phone for a guy to text you back, you’re a damn fool.

Let’s be realistic.

If a woman was dying and her man came to her rescue without texting her back, in her last dying breath she would ask, “Why didn’t you text me back?”

We women have an internal battle going on inside of our heads, wondering whether or not we should make a big deal of this first world problem. Oh, we should.

We definitely should.

WHY run the world if we’re still worrying about the male species and their inability to use a telephone? Do you think Hillary Clinton spends her time worrying why Bill hasn’t been texting her? NO! SHE’S TOO BUSY TRYING TO RUN THE OFFICE.

Here is what you can do in the time it will take for the average man to text you back if you’re.. well.. like average me:

– Read the Harry Potter novels seven times through, highlighting how many times the words “Muggle” and “rubbish” are used

– Complete a marathon

– Experience a pregnancy

– Finish a phone conversation with your distant uncle who has a hard time understanding English but really wants to hear about the rash you’ve developed on your leg

– Write, produce, direct and cast an epic film

– Wait for Armageddon

– Turn 56 years old

– Experience the birth of North West’s daughter, South West.

 

Okay, maybe I’m making a big deal out of this, or maybe you’re a guy.

Now Playing: “Man! I Feel Like a Woman” by Shania Twain.

 

Before I Die, I Want To Know…

This post isn’t complete until you’ve watched all of the links I have embedded. Don’t worry, I’m hilarious.

• How to balance a checkbook without my Dad’s help
• How to hustle
• How to proficiently articulate my words and expand my vocabulary
• How to whistle with my fingers
• How to ride a motorcycle
• How to use a sewing machine and sew, baby, sew
• How to cook (at least) one meal that leaves any man weak at the knees begging for more, please
• How to speak Italian and Spanish. I would like to become trilingual or as many linguals my brain can handle
• How to play THE GOD, DAMN PIANO. Actually, any instrument for that matter. I don’t care if it’s the fucking triangle. I WANT TO BE MUSICALLY INCLINED.
• How to say no. I know how this sounds. I am not a whore.
• How to shop for shoes.
• How to be a good wife and do wife-like things (LIKE BRINGING HOME THE BACON – LITERALLY AND FIGURATIVELY).
• How to dance Ori Tahitian without feeling like my spine will dislocate itself.
• How to grow fruits, herbs and vegetables that don’t die the day after I plant them.
• How to play chess
• How to say the alphabet backwards to impress foreigners and make them give me a place to stay at their house in Europe while I am there backpacking alone in a journey to find myself and explore the natures of the universe.
• How to curl my hair with a curling iron
• How to paint a picture I can hang on my wall and not feel ashamed of it weeks later.
• How to film a documentary, because it is my newly desired dream to live in Hawai’i and film a documentary about Hawai’i.
• How to make people laugh, but hopefully I’ve mastered this technique already. *ba-dum-ching*
• How to find my personal style and dress accordingly because fashion fades but style is eternal (shoutout to my boiiii, YSL).
• How to STOP. LISTENING. TO. WHAT. OTHER. PEOPLE. HAVE. TO. SAY. BECAUSE. MOST. OF. THE. TIME. IT’S. NEGATIVE. AND. NOT. COOL.
• How to live minimally.
• How to successfully get a man to buy me a drink at a bar without him waiting outside of the women’s bathroom while I plan my escape.
• How to make drinks
• How to help others overcome diversity
• How to be the Queen of Pong
• How to be an all-around happy and pleasant person to be around so that whenever someone is in my presence they feel an inexplicable warmth inside of them (no, not nausea or heartburn).
• How to get the HELL off of social networking sites that have absolutely no purpose for my everyday life. Sorry, Facebook, but you will one day become somebody that I used to know.
• How to take a picture. A nice picture with a nice camera. I would like to call this “Photography”.
• How to budget my money so I can afford to take my kids on vacation every year.
• How to be a cool mom.
• How to go to Disney Land. I need to know how to go to Disney Land properly for my first time.
• How to read a map.
• How to spot the Big Dipper.
• How to navigate around the streets of NYC like a pro

To be continued…

F is For Friends who Fu….

Friends with Benefits.

A movie. A way of life. In the end, no one will survive because no one knows how to be a friend with benefits. Do you realize the meaning of “benefit”?

Benefit: an advantage or profit gained from something. (Thanks, Google).

No one in that relationship should want to end up in a relationship if done properly. He/She who is the ultimate “beneficiary” is in a permanent state of “complicated” and dwells in the purgatory of relationships where they must release all of his/her sins before entering into the gates of long-termed doom. Got it?

So, if you’re that annoying friend with benefits partner who won’t shut up about Valentine’s Day and going out in public, today is your lucky day. I am going to teach you how to be a proper friend with benefits (like I have a clue anyways).

The Twelve Steps

Step One: Honesty: Be honest with yourself. There is no attachment. You are no longer the friend, but the friend with benefits. You can have your cake and eat it too, or throw it away because cake makes you fat.

Step Two: Faith: Have faith that what will happen BETTER HAPPEN (sex sex sex) and what must not happen WILL NEVER HAPPEN (relationships).

Step Three: Surrender: Live girl. Have some fun, girl. Let yourself get used to the fact that you are not invited or welcomed to spend the night. Your FWB’s other love interest will be over in 20 minutes. SURRENDER YOUR SOUL TO THE FWB GODS AND ENJOY EVERY SECOND OF IT.

Step Four: Soul Searching: You might find a part of yourself inside the other person. You might realize you are crazy in love and you want to spend the rest of your life with your friend with benefits. This is usually the step that is hardest for most FWB partners to overcome. Well, girl/boy, overcome it. Fast.

Step Five: Integrity: Look at you. Crying on your bathroom floor because your FWB liked another person’s picture on Instagram. There is nothing ice cream will do to fix that, so either get out of this alliance while it’s still early or get up, look in the mirror, fix your damn make up and resort back to Step One.

Step Six: Acceptance: Ah, finally. We’ve made it. You are now fully grasping the concept of being in an alliance of friends with benefits. You have lasted the first five steps and now you can sit back and be a realist about the situation. No more driving by his house on a Sunday morning to see who he was with the night before. YOU DON’T CARE.

Step Seven: Humility: You better be humble, modest and quiet about your alliance because you know for damn sure your girl friends will talk you into a relationship. (Not really an issue for guys, because they will probably just cheer you on.)

Step Eight: Willingness: YOU ARE READY. Anytime. Anyday. To be a good friend with benefits, you must master the booty call. Wherever they need you, you have to be. When you want some, he/she better be there. It’s a give and take.

Step Nine: Forgiveness: Forgive yourself for not being a normal human being in a relationship. What is normal, anyways? Half the time, people in relationships are fighting while you’re… well, you know.

Step Ten: Maintenance: Just because you are being a FWB doesn’t mean that you need to let yourself gain relationship weight. Go to the gym. Get a wax. Do your nails. You are not married with kids. Save yourself.

Step Eleven: Making Contact: Step Eleven might sound deceiving, but I assure you that there will be no contact with your FWB. You are actually venturing out and networking to his friends to see who else is in need of a FWB.

Step Twelve: Service: The last of the twelve steps. You have done your duties as a friend with benefits and you can choose whether or not you are OUT OF ORDER or IN NEED OF SERVICE.

After reading my Twelve Step Guide to Overcoming the FWB Curse, I hope I have helped you with your future endeavors and accomplishments.

Music Choice: “San Francisco” by The Mowgli’s. I’m feeling liberal.

I Survived an EDM Show

Last night my Jesuit university hosted a concert with a strange combination of artists St. Lucia and Krewella (lol). Never would I have expected Krewella to step foot in our gym and bring out every EDM lover’s inner wild child. I’m not a big fan of EDM, yet I couldn’t help myself to join in while everyone around me was jumping and sharing the same bodily fluids. Yum.

Well, you guessed it. I’m writing a blurb of my observations.

First, it might seem attractive for the ladies to wear the least amount of clothing possible while still looking “cute”, but all night I wished I wore my sports bra and a less revealing shirt, especially when the dude next to me was checking my boobs for breast cancer. Also, I don’t know if the music brings back memories of ballet for some women, but tutus should remain in your closet of memories than at an EDM concert, especially a show hosted by your Jesuit university in the school gym where the most space between you and the person next to you is none. We are one and I don’t like your artificial tutu rubbing against my arm as you attempt to awkwardly jump and dance to the music.

Second, women are beautiful human beings, but we have too much hair to deal with. Before going to an EDM concert, you need to know what you’re up against and one of those battles is HAIR. Long, thick hair. Ladies, either put your hair up and save us all from inhaling your conditioner or shave it off. LOL actually just shave it off. That would be more entertaining.

Third, I AM GOING TO WRITE THIS IN CAPS SO THE MESSAGE GETS THROUGH, BUT IF YOU ARE A BORING PERSON AND WOULD RATHER STAY HOME WITH A GOOD BOOK (no objections there) DO NOT ATTEND AN EDM CONCERT. I LIKE TO DANCE. I LIKE TO JUMP AND I CAN HEAR YOU IN FRONT OF ME SAYING “WHY IS THIS GIRL DANCING SO HARD?” WHILE YOU STAND THERE LOOKING AWKWARD WITH A CASE OF CHRONIC BITCH FACE. IF YOU DO NOT LIKE CLOSE CONTACT WITH OTHER PEOPLE, DO NOT ATTEND AN EDM CONCERT OR ANY CONCERT WITH GENERAL ADMISSION. YOU WILL HATE YOUR LIFE AND YOU WILL RUIN THE EXPERIENCE FOR EVERYONE ELSE. Either stand in the back or get lost in the crowd.

Fourth, it’s funny how guys think when the light are off so are my senses. No. I know you are trying to grab my boobs and caress my butt. Next time just ask me. I will still say no.

Fifth, back to my observation of men, you guys rock. Seriously, bringing your girlfriend to an EDM show means you either love her or you’re desperate to take her home by the end of the night. Acting as her body guard as she drunkenly tells you she loves you and pretty much makes a fool of herself, you have my sympathy.

It might sound like I had an awful time, but it was a fun experience! I was smiling and laughing the whole night. I really enjoyed St. Lucia’s energy, danced my little heart away and avoided as many vomiting freshman and sweaty human beings possible.

Music Choice: “Closer Than This” by St. Lucia.

The Human Duck

Welcome to Animal Planet. My name is Steve Irwin and I have risen from the dead to report on one of the most common animals we have seen these past few years.. the human duck. MATE, I THINK I SEE ONE NOW!

There she is. What a beaut. Her lips so pouty but those eyes, so hungry for attention. Usually this female specimen of the human duck is gathered around friends whenever a mirror is present in which they all are seen pouting their lips for the camera, but strangely she is not with her friends and stands alone. This lone duck hunts for a male specimen in hopes her lips will lure him in. CRIKEY MEANS GEE WHIZ, WOW! A WILD OFFSPRING APPEARS!

Offsprings are a rarity to find. For a human duck to be learning the lip pout technique this young of age is truly spectacular.

Music Choice: “The Boy With The Arab Strap” by Belle and Sebastian. No, you may not get “Color my life with the chaos of trouble” tattooed over your vagina if you don’t know what song these lyrics came from.

 

Hostel Queen, Young and Sweet, Almost Twenty

I don’t know if it’s my inability to communicate and make plans with another human being or their inability to spontaneously join me in my adventures, but I’m always traveling alone. I’m not complaining, but sometimes while I’m sitting at a concert or eating the world’s best ice cream, I feel so alone, BUT, being alone has made me experience the world of hostels while traveling all on my own.

For clarification, there is a major difference between a HOTEL and a HOSTEL. Hotels are offered to anyone over the age of 21, sometimes 18. Hostels are provided to anyone over the age of 18 with no age limit which may include an old, perverted man who doesn’t know the English words “Go away.” (please keep this in mind as you continue reading). Hotels give you the luxury of sleeping in your own room with no one to judge how you drool or your level of snore. Hostels, on the other hand, are co-ed or single sex shared rooms usually for foreigners but I use them anyway. Hostels are cheaper than hotels, and since I don’t have the kahunas to spend 100 dollars a night on a hotel room, A HOSTEL IT IS.

This could be my own fault, but I refuse to believe I had anything to do with putting myself in a situation where I must hide my face under my sheets because the man in the bed across from mine keeps staring at me while I sleep.

Here are some tips if you plan on staying in a hostel anytime soon:

Always check the ratings online and look at pictures. The pictures could look marvelous, but if the hostel has one star it’s a NO-NO. Learning from other people’s bad experiences is the best way after all.

Never agree to stay in a co-ed hostel room. Seriously, it might be cheaper, but you don’t want to wake up in the middle of the night and catch men sniffing your panties. Play it safe.

Bring your own everything. Sheets are provided, but you don’t know how well the washing machine works or if soap was used. Towels. Soap. Toothbrushes. Shoes. Deodorant. B.Y.O.E

Don’t be a party pooper. Hostels can be so much fun when you meet the right people. Right now, I’m sharing a room with women from Italy and they have so many stories to tell me whether I want to listen to them or not! Foreigners are friends, not food.

Music Choice: “Lasso” by Phoenix. I swear, Phoenix did such a great job at the concert I went to tonight. I think I turned groupie over the course of 40 minutes. As if I wasn’t already obsessed before…

Reality Check For Women

Viewer Discretion is Advised: This material may come off as pessimistic and might crush some of your dreams.

The other day I was looking through my phone’s notes for a list of songs I wrote down to make a playlist and I came across a silly little list of qualities “The Perfect Guy” needs to have. After reading this list, I wanted to time travel back in time when silly me wrote this list and give myself a bitch slap to the face. I was probably watching the Notebook or some other Ryan Goseling film while writing this list because these qualities are UNREALISTIC. Let’s see… “is nice to me”, “a little taller than me but not too tall”, “watches chick flicks with me”, “makes fun of me but in a good way”. WTF WAS I THINKING? I don’t want the perfect guy to be nice to me all the time. I need someone who can get sarcastic and a little mean so I know he’s not a little bitch and can take a joke. To think I would’ve produced this list of irrelevant bullshit? Ugh, this list makes me so angry. A perfect guy shouldn’t have to buy you tampons at the store or surprise you with flowers. THE PERFECT GUY SHOULDN’T EVEN BE GOOD LOOKING. Good looking men are too full of themselves and take longer than you do to get ready. The perfect guy should be an Average Joe. A white t-shirt and a little scruff is fine. If he’s sweet that’s AWESOME and remembering birthdays is just a plus. Never expect what you see in the movies to show up at your front door. You’re lucky if the perfect guy shows up on time. If a man is intellectually stimulating, can support himself and still come home faithfully to me, that’s about as good as it gets.

In conclusion, here is an updated list of my version of “The Perfect Man”:

– knows how to do his own laundry, reads books, has a job, can have a conversation with me without staring at my non-existent boobs, interests me, can make a mean cup of coffee, listens to music, eats, sleeps, breathes.

I’m positive this list will grow as I grow older, but for now my perspective on men is to be continued. Basically, there is no such thing as “perfect” so stop waiting for something that will never happen and get with that guy from your Econ class.

Music Choice: “Comes and Goes (In Waves)” by Greg Laswell. I highly recommend.

Dear My Darling Literate Readers,

It has come to my attention that you readers actually READ my blurbs and LIKE them! For the longest time I thought you guys were laughing AT me not WITH me (jokes on me, right?). THIS IS GREAT NEWS. REALLY, TELL YOUR FRIENDS. I highly encourage you to spend your Friday nights wildly scrolling through my Blurbblegum page with a bowl of popcorn and a heated blanket, tilting your head back and cackling all night long. Whenever someone new tells me they like what I write I secretly want to marry them. Idk, maybe it’s just my natural instincts. This is my creative outlet. I like to keep my posts fun and original when school and other daily activities get stressful. When someone voluntarily reads what I have to write I take it as the highest compliment. So this blurb is dedicated to you folks – the cute young men, the old ladies, the literate, the not-so literate, the graduates, the dropouts, and the ones who mean to search “bubblegum” on Google but spell it wrong. This is all for you. *crowd goes wild*

Oh, and if you don’t like what I write and take it as insulting, poorly written and ignorant, you may fill out any complaints you have and mail it to:

The People Who Don’t Give A Shit

P. Sherman, 42 Wallaby Way.

Sydney, Australia.

… Because who actually gives a shit in Australia?

With much love,

The Clarissa who really wants to explain it all but doesn’t know how to yet.

Music Choice: “Blood Bank” by Bon Iver. This song has been repeated and put in all of my playlists for the past six months. Only Bon Iver can make the words “blood bank” sound so enticing.

The Man Behind His Text Message

“Ay, sup ma?” – He is too lazy to write/correctly pronounce a three letter word. Dump him.

“You look so good today.” – Good? GOOD? I woke up this morning, slabbed on some lipstick, fixed my fucked up morning hair and put on something nice for a “good”? Dump him.

“What’s up?” – Hmm… let me see. I see the sky, the ceiling, some pretty lights too. I also see some dark spots from the leak upstairs. Is that a bird or a plane? Dump him.

“Look up in the sky, girl. I think heaven is missing an angel. But look.. I found her.” *points to you* – If “girl” isn’t your real name, dump him. He obviously found this pick up line on Google. So not creative. Dump him.

“Hey” – It’s “Hello.” Dump him.

“What are you wearing?” – The fact he’s leaving a vision of you in sexy panties and a lace bra restricted to a text and his imagination is reason enough to dump him.

“When can you come over?” A.K.A when can we fuuuuuuck? Never. Also, observe that you are doing the coming over and he is not picking you up. Dump him.

Lesson learned: There are over 30,000 words in the Oxford Dictionary. If a man can’t articulate these words in a creative manner, he’s not worth it. Find someone you can challenge and always be challenged by. If you can’t find someone, buy a mirror and fall in love with yourself. *the “Clarissa Explains It All” segment of my blurb*

Music Choice: “Madness” by Zee Avi. I fell in love with this song then I fell more in love with the album. You can say I’m cheating on this song with the album.