Okay maybe “mad” is a slight exaggeration. A more accurate title would be, “Reasons My Boyfriend is Annoyed With Me,” or “Reasons My Boyfriend Won’t Heat Up My Leftover Pineapple Pizza.”He doesn’t really get mad, unless the Penguins lose, and he doesn’t really eat dessert, unless my mom made it. For these two reasons alone he is my perfect opposite. We don’t really date, we kind of just take turns babysitting each other and occasionally kiss.
So without further adieu, I present you with my list of reasons my boyfriend is mad at me…
1. Whispering. Anyone who whispers outside of a movie theater or library is, without a doubt, a serial killer.
2. Facebook status with a “see more…” option. All forms of conversation should be limited to 140 characters.
3. NCIS marathons
4. Deer. We have like 1,000 in our backyard. Mom and Dad, you do not need to text me when I am at work that you saw a deer. You do not need to call everyone in the house to the window.
5. Moving sidewalks. They are the reason America is fat. The only things that should be moving on a sidewalk are your legs.
6. People who complain about lighting. The bathroom lighting isn’t making you ugly. That’s just how you look. Try washing your face. There are no Instagram filters in the real world.
7. Getting stuck on a Candy Crush level. A disproportionate cartoon fuck shows up with a sign that says, “looks like you’re having trouble with this level, maybe you should buy some candy balls,” and I’m like damn, I wish I could buy some candy balls in real life to get me through
level being 23.
8. “These Are a Few of My Favorite Things.” Not a Christmas song. Mentioning sleigh bells and snowflakes, yes those are wintery, but that doesn’t make it a Christmas song. It also mentions whiskers on kittens, and geese, and ponies but you don’t hear it playing at Pet Smart.
9. Balancing my checkbook. Not into it. I am the Gabby Douglas on beam in the 2012 Olympics, at checkbook balancing. (AKA super unbalanced, Google it, she slipped a lot)
10. When people who buy my used textbooks on Amazon give me shitty reviews. It said in the notes, “cover in perfect condition, dicks drawn on a few pages.” It’s not like anyone actually does class reading. If you do, chances are my doodles are the only dick you’re seeing this semester.
Remember when I advised a college youth that living at home after graduation isn’t so bad, and it’s actually kind of nice, and a bunch of other shit about saving money and finding your life passion? Excuse me, but I spoke too-fucking-soon.
When I naively spewed that poorly punctuated rant, my boyfriend was still living in Ann Arbor. That means I spent like 5 days with him eating pizza in bed, and only 2 days at home stealing my parent’s Netflix and attempting Wii Zumba. Now I am balls deep in my childhood home and won’t be able to pull-out until our fucking apartment is done being built. Moving is fucking me up. Our new place was supposed to be ready in September. Oh, PS it’s November. In Michigan. Meaning it will be snowing in T-minus five minutes.
Living at home is not like when you went home for fall break during college. During college you would come home to your favorite homemade meat dish, your mom cleaned your bathroom which seemed kind of pointless since you hadn’t used it in months but you still appreciated the gesture, and your dog was like, holy shit I love you, and sat on your face. Want to know the highlight of my day living at home? Seeing two commercials for a similar products that blatantly insult each other. Like a Hoover commercial and a Shark commercial- those are vacuums for all of you that still have lives. I have a jovial childlike reaction to that shit. I’m sitting there in my pajamas at 6 PM like “OH SNAP, WHATS HOOVER GONNA DO NOW?”
Remember that car commercial from a couple years ago about the guy who lived at home and ate microwavable meals and his parents went out all the time in the advertised car? I used to be like LOL what a pathetic dude, and now I’m crying like LOL that microwavable meal looks amazing, I haven’t eaten all day.
At first living at home is fun. It was nice taking a shower without wearing flip flops, and watching a SVU marathon without having to check the score of a football game during commercials. I was like awesome, gonna do a face mask and drink my parents’ wine. Killed all their wine like a month ago. Living on Red Baron pizzas and tears. Afraid to leave my room after 10 PM because that’s when my parents turn off all the lights and go to bed. Still convinced a sniper lives in the woods behind my house and pees in the bird bath in our back yard.
So here I sit, sober, wishing I could just sleep, eyes tearing up from all the fucking red velvet and flannel scented candles in my room that I bought online out of fucking boredom.
Things that get better after college:
Your energy level
Your ability to follow deadlines
Your taste in
guys, bros, frat stars, boys, men
Things that get worse after college:
Your alcohol tolerance
Your sensitivity to sound
Your road rage
Your Facebook statuses
Things that stay the same after college:
Your inability to budget
Your weekly brunch plans
Your sunglasses always being lost
Your love/hate relationship with Taylor Swift
If someone told me freshman year of college that I would one day miss being woken up at 7 AM by “Party in the USA” on repeat, I would laugh in their face and make them do a shot of Pomegranate Burnett’s with me. Here I sit, five years later (holy shit, has it really been 5 years since I was a freshman? balls) with an aching pit in my stomach, a sore longing feeling usually reserved for recent break-ups or season finales, missing the days I could take shots from $10 vodka handles before the sun has a chance to burn my ginger skin. I know I’m not that old, I can still take shots from whatever bottom shelf plastic handle vodka comes in still, I just need to chase before and after with Diet Coke, while have a friend standing close by with some Jimmy John’s so I don’t immediately blackout and or vomit.
I don’t pregame football games I don’t watch anymore, I tailgate football games I don’t watch. I don’t stand on ledges of frat house porches, or have mixed drinks with grape soda in them, or feel comfortable stealing things from strangers’ houses anymore. The only think I don’t miss from that list is the grape soda, because for some God damn reason grape soda was the only thing to chase or mix at pregames, unless you were lucky and found some root beer with HPV backwash and a dead bee in it still out at 9 AM. I used to finish half-full beers my friends set down on beer pong tables so they could grind on a guy in broad daylight wearing a jersey, who based on his stick arms, looks like he has never played a sport in his life. IM broomball doesn’t count. Now I drink alcohols from glass containers that I feel guilty about if I don’t recycle. Beer used to taste like what would happen if water could go sour or flat. I miss the sense of childhood wonder obtained when finding a rare Coors Light where the mountains were still blue. Now beer has flavors besides “cold” and really intricate labels with mythical creatures and boobs.
Tailgating is stupid because it’s about drinking and cars- the 2 things we are was raised to believe will kill us, individually or combined. Nobody wants to DD, everyone wants to drink. The guys get drunk to feel comfortable taking group pictures, and the girls get drunk to forget they aren’t in college anymore. Sometimes corn hole is involved but then everyone gets sad about their age and plays flip cup instead. Paying to park is also stupid. I don’t care if it benefits my alma mater, I just paid $80,000 dollars for an email address that ends in “@umich.edu,” that is all the money you get U of M.
Tailgating is also stupid because unless you’re a soccer mom or a hoarder you don’t have a car big enough for all the shit a tailgate requires. Your fucking Prius can’t hold a grill, tent, table, speakers, coolers, and those folding nylon chairs old people give their grandkids as “useful” graduation presents. You know what’s useful? A gift receipt.
rheeish asked: I'm on the post-grad non-grad school train now. Do you have any tips for surviving the first year post-grad?
1. Temporarily move back home. Reread that sentence. Temporarily. Living at home isn’t creepy until you’re 25. Unless you live in a basement, in which case it is always creepy. It gives you time to save money and drink your parents wine alone in your childhood room while watching NCIS marathons. But most importantly to save money.
2. Stop having casual sex. Especially if you live in a basement. But seriously, I am not saying go cold turkey but definitely cut back. I understand needing a McDouble every now and then but too many McDoubles makes you fat and gives you herpes. While you’re out racking up slumber party points in the real world, you could be sleeping with your future boss’s son or your future boss. It’s a small world so think before you full on Lena Dunham it.
3. Pick a job, any job. It’s a reason to get out of bed in the morning, which you will need. Trust me, you will want to cry in the shower when you see everyone else’s welcome week pictures. I recommend a desk job that gives you ample time to look for career job online and respond to blog questions. I differentiate a job vs. a career job by answering this simple question, can I get drunk at an Olive Garden during my lunch break and still function? If yes, you have a job. If no, you have a career job / admirable drinking problem.
4. Forget your credit card number. If you ever memorize it, get a new one. Don’t subscribe for Rue La La, J. Crew Factory, ANYTHING. You will spend a balls ton of money. You will contemplate selling a kidney. You will look into selling your eggs. APPARENTLY you need a billion different kinds of insurance to function as an adult.
5. Have a quirky proficiency on your resume. Like, good at remembering names or that you write jingles. Don’t put how long you can hold a keg stand, but I definitely think adding a quirk is a billion times more effective than using a “cool” typeface.
But above all, give yourself some credit. If you survived freshman year welcome week, rush, or a Taylor Swift concert, you can do anything.
I have a beautiful, tall- I’m talkin legs for miles, blonde friend, who also has a puppy, that also happens to be single (her, not the puppy). She’s been dating, like real life dating, which would scare the shit out of me, but she handles it very well because she’s more mature than me and takes her feelings out on strangers when she drives on the highway. I think she’s good at dating because she has a puppy. I imagine meeting men in places that aren’t underground bars that legitimately smell like seamen, would make me really confused. Like that feeling of wondering if your puppy is shaking because it needs to go outside to pee, or if it’s just so excited to see you. Like you’re anxious because it could shit on your carpet / life.
Like I was saying, she had this date with this perfectly nice guy / man. (I don’t know what to call the opposite sex when they can grow beards but still play with Legos.) He made her laugh, they have things in common, and they actually go on dates to places that don’t involve eating Olive Garden to go and fighting over what movie they should illegally download. Like real, old school, dates. She tells me, “I feel like I should like this guy more, but there was just no spark.” For the record, I hate that the whole “sexual attraction deeper connection” cliché is a spark. I don’t think anything good comes of sparks- sparklers, fires, illegal fireworks that make people think there’s a shooting in your neighborhood, blown fuses on Christmas Eve that make your dad swear a lot and your mom cry. The point I am trying to make is that girls feel guilty for not liking nice guys. Then they (we) keep hanging out with nice guys because we feel like we should, like we are supposed to because holy shit, we actually found a guy we are comfortable around or holds the door open. We think, well maybe the spark will come eventually, and maybe it does. I never stayed long enough to find out because I was too busy yawning. But more often than not, it ends because you’ve been bored for 7 months and wondering how you gained 10 pounds.
Nice should be a given, respect should be a given, funny should be a given- but that’s just unrealistic considering half the shows on TV. But nice and funny are legit. Don’t feel guilty because you think you should like him and you don’t, you can both like baseball without wanting to meet his parents or even wanting to see him naked. Someone will love it and that someone doesn’t have to be you.
I don’t think you need to be in love to have sex either. I think it’s a billion times better when you’re in love / a committed relationship based on mutual respect and shared interests (where there is a spark), but I don’t think it’s necessary. It’s like if you really want a hamburger you can go to McDonalds, and you’re like meh, craving fulfilled. Obviously a burger from Chop House / pretty much anywhere else would be better and make you happier. But I also understand that sometimes you just need a McDouble.
I think that’s pretty much how I’ll give the sex talk to my kids.
puttingtheassinassistant asked: Have you written any screenplays? Love the way you write.
Not to brag or anything, but I was kind of instrumental in my 5th grade colonial day skit. Additionally I have prepared countless small works for my middle school religion classes about saying “no” to drugs.
But no, I have no written any. I think I’m afraid to consider any sort of writing career because I used to love art, so I went to art school, and now I fucking hate art- and I would fucking hate to fucking hate writing.