America is Just One Annoying Dinner Party

I hate politics, I hate groups of people, I hate public forum, I hate public opinion, and I hate mass hysteria.  The entire country has become a melting pot of everything I loathe as of late because of this little political event happening in November called the Presidential Election.

So fucking annoying.

Call me what you want, but I really hate America during election years.  It's too political, it's too serious, it's too confusing.  "But Alex, the right to vote is one of the greatest rights we have as Americans!" you say.  Yes, I know.  It's right up there with the right to own a gun and marry whoever we want.  Wait.

I hate the presidential race because it brings the idiot out in everyone.  First of all, I'd be very impressed if any of the assholes I haven't defriended from Facebook who keep littering my newsfeed with their political agenda could tell me their candidates' stance on five major issues in this upcoming election.  On second thought, I'd be impressed if any of said morons could tell me what five major issues in this upcoming election are.

I had the pleasure of being a student at IU during the 2008 elections.  By pleasure, I mean I wanted to stab my fucking eyes out listening to everyone ramble on about the reasons McCain should be the next president or why they were voting for Obama.  I know college is an institution of higher learning, but college students are fucking idiots.  If I heard one more person say they were voting for Obama because, "McCain is so old he'll probably die while he's in office," I swore I was going to fucking knife a bitch.  Seriously?!  THAT'S THE MAIN FUCKING REASON YOU'RE ELECTING AN INDIVIDUAL TO LEAD YOUR COUNTRY?!  Since when are you the fucking timekeeper of everyone's life span?  OF ALL OF THE POSSIBLE ANSWERS YOU COULD HAVE PICKED, YOU CHOSE THE AGE OF THE CANDIDATE AS THE BASIS OF YOUR VOTE.

Think about it.

I think it's pretty great that we have the right to choose our leaders.  I think America is kick ass.  I'm proud to live in a country that people die trying to move to because they know that a better life awaits here. Do I think America's perfect?  No, because I live within a day's driving distance from a family that has become a national sensation due to the fact they call their youngest daughter "Honey Boo Boo."  But, do I have enough faith and pride in the US of A that I plan to keep living here?  Yes.

What I'm trying to say is that I don't give a fuck who you're voting for, as long as you actually know why you're voting for the candidate.  Do you understand what this means?  Read.  Check MULTIPLE news sources.  Figure out where you are in your life, and which policies align themselves with a country that would most benefit you.  Figure out which proposed policies and changes are actually realistic.  DO NOT vote for a candidate because you think his wife is hot or because your favorite rap star said so.  DO NOT vote for a candidate "just because."

I truly think that every time an uninformed voter steps into a polling booth and treats the voting ballot as if it's an iPad game, one of our founding fathers rolls over in his grave.  I'm fairly certain that a nation where a candidate can win an election if he or she is endorsed by Russel Brand is hardly the nation the gentlemen who put their lives on the line to sign the Declaration of Independence envisioned.

That being said, I will honestly slap anyone who tries to talk about politics with me in the face.  I don't give a shit what your asinine reasons are, but I truly do hope that everyone who gets their news about the election from Internet memes marks their calendars wrong on election day.  I hate my generation for so many reasons, but I think one of the main ones is people who suddenly become politically savvy three months before an election.

I don't give a fuck who you vote for, as long as you know what they stand for, how that will effect you, and whether or not you have evaluated the candidates' plan of action and it's plausibility.

With that, I would like to leave you with this:

Let's Play a Game. It's Called "Just the Tip."

I'm almost completely convinced that less than 3% of the general population should be allowed out in public on a daily basis.  I have zero faith in humanity.  I find people stupid, tactless, and completely oblivious to social cues.  That being said, I would like to address a common custom and the etiquette involved in it:  dining out at restaurants.  As members of the most obese country on the planet, many Americans are accustomed to being able to drive a meager ten or fifteen minutes and find themselves with a plethora of dining options.  While many people are accustomed to the practice of sitting in a vinyl booth (that some small child has probably thrown up in at one point or another) and guzzling down unlimited amounts of syrupy carbonation (free refills are basically an IV of diabetes, by the way), few people are well acquainted with the other end of the procedure:  tipping your server.  Because I'm the eternal optimist, I've decided to assume that most people simply don't know better, which is why cheap ass clowns continue to bestow their hard working server with a meager, insulting pittance at the end of their meal.  I would like to state, for the record, that it is no longer 1994.  We have a black president, people freak out over gay chickens, or something, and the tipping standard is no longer 10%.  It's 20%.  Do you know what that means?  Take the total on the bottom of your bill, pull out your fucking smart phone that you've been busy using to post stupid fucking food pictures on InstaGram with, and multiply that total by .2.  See that number you come up with?  Put that as the tip on the credit card slip.  It's not fucking rocket science.

Some people think that the tip is negotiable.  It's not.  Servers pay taxes on each table they wait on.  They also tip out other restaurant employees, such as bussers and bartenders.  By not leaving a tip, you've essentially allowed your server to pay for you to go out to eat, which is actually the fucking rudest.  I don't give a shit whether or not you can afford to leave 20%.  There's a simple solution to that:  don't go out to eat if you can't afford to tip.

Because this article is probably not enough to crack the glacial iceberg that is the world of evil cheapskates, I've decided to assist all of you with a basic FAQ on the matter.

Q:  I just got my bill.  I got exactly what I ordered, and the service was satisfactory.  What should I tip?
A:  20%.

Q:  I got exactly what I ordered, but I didn't like my food.  I didn't say anything to my server, but I feel like she should have known by the way I wasn't interacting with her.  How much should I tip?
A:  20%.

Q:  I got my food, and I didn't like it.  My server was attentive, and offered me something else, which I declined.  My server took my dish off the bill.  How much should I tip?
A:  20% of the original bill.

Q:  I ordered a soda, and drained the glass by the time my server had finished getting my tables food order.  It took her like 3 minutes to get me another, and then I drank that within about 45 seconds.  My refills took anywhere from 3-7 minutes each. I  have no idea how my server could be so rude as to not know that I absolutely cannot eat my dinner without drinking a minimum of 12 Cokes before my meal.  What should I tip?
A:  20%, and just so you know, you probably consumed about 4896083409682 calories during your meal.

Q:  I'm old.  How much should I tip?
A:  Listen up before your senile ass forgets:  20%.  Enjoy your remaining years.

Q:  My server was pleasant enough to us, but she seems like she's kind of a bitch in real life.  How much should I tip?
A:  I'm sure you're just a ray of fucking sunshine yourself.  25%, because you're probably a real dick.

Q:  I continued making condescending remarks to my server all night, and have been nit-picking the service, searching for reasons to leave a shitty tip.  How much should I leave?
A:  20%, minimum, and I hope somebody slipped rat poison in your ketchup.

Q:  I went out to eat without calling ahead on a Friday night, and am very disgruntled to learn that the popular restaurant I chose is asking me to wait up to 25 minutes for a table!  I'm very angry, because I clearly have an undeserved sense of entitlement.  My server did a great job, but she didn't do anything to accommodate for the fact that I had to wait for my table, just like all of the other patrons.  How much should I tip?
A:  20%.

Q:  I took my four young children out to eat.  How much should I tip?
A:  20% + $5 per child.  For example:  A $100.00 bill without children should be a $20.00 tip.  With four children, your total tip equals:  $20 + (5+5+5+5) = $40.00.  And tell your fucking rugrats to stop grinding up crayons and leaving them on the table.

Q:  I got my table at 7:00, but I need to make it to a movie at 8:00.  I told my server I was in a huge hurry, and then proceeded to take 15 minutes to decide on my entree.  I asked my server for recommendations on food that could be prepared quickly, and I completely ignored their advice and chose a well done steak.  The steak took about 25 minutes to cook, and now I am going to be late for my movie.  How much should I tip?
A:  Are you fucking serious?  25%, and an extra 5% for your trouble because I'm sure you're the kind of person who physically taps your server on the shoulder while he or she is taking care of another table.

Q:  I ordered an appetizer, salad, and an entree.  My chain hangs low and I've consumed about a million and a half non-alcoholic, non-carbonated flavored beverages with little to no ice before my appetizer arrived.  I clearly have no grasp on table decorum and have asked my server multiple times "Where my food at?" because s/he had the nerve to bring my appetizer and salads (with extra ranch) before I have even received my main course.  How much should I tip?
A:  20%, at least, and then another 30% in reparations for all of your cheap ass friends that are "ballin' on a budget" and run my ass around the restaurant, only to stiff me.

Q:  I was only planning on spending $80.00 on dinner, but I've somehow racked up a tab of $85.00.  How much should I tip?  I'm so broke right now!
A:  $18.00, which would be 20%.  Tipping is part of the deal.  You wouldn't go to a store and try to bargain down the price of a pair of shoes because you couldn't afford them, would you?  You would opt for the more affordable option.  The same goes for dining out:  get what you can afford, WITH the 20% tip accounted for.  And go find Suze Orman you piece of shit.

Q:  I went out to eat with a large group of friends.  We moved our seats around, and requested an impossibly difficult separation of checks.  I was a little put off when I vaguely waved my hand around the table and informed my server that I would be paying for my own appetizer, Jessica's first drink, Kayla's second, and half of Robert's dessert, only to receive a blank stare from my server.  My server clearly hadn't taken the time to learn all of our first names.  I find this absolutely inconceivable because that's her job, regardless of the fact that I couldn't be bothered to listen when she introduced herself multiple times, and resorted to snapping at her and calling her "Hey, you" all evening.  How much should I tip?
A:  40%, I hate you, and it's not Diet Coke if you've drank 16 of them.

Q:  I'm a redneck.  I have three teeth, and I'm unclear as to why everyone is looking at me funny when I've removed my shoes at the dinner table.  How much should I tip?
A:  20%, and pass the news along to your brother-uncle.

Q:  My bill was $11.37, and I gave my server a $100 bill to cover the check.  She informed me she would be back with my change.  I'm so puzzled as to how she doesn't have that much cash on her right now; it's 12:03 and the restaurant opened at 11:30.  It took her almost 4 minutes to give me the proper change back. I'm so irritated that she wasn't able to act as a human ATM and automatically dispense $88.63.  How much should I tip?
A:  20%, and you're an asshole.  Are you a rap star, a drug dealer, or just a douche bag?  If you're saying no to all of those, you have no reason to bring a hundred dollar bill with you to a lunch date.

Q:  I was very rude throughout my meal, but everything was satisfactory.  I have now presented my black AMEX card to my server.  How much should I tip?
A:  30%.  You have an AMEX, and I'm a college student trying to support a drug habit.  Pay it forward.

Q:  I just grabbed my server's ass because I'm an inebriated buffoon.  How much should I tip?
A:  200%, regardless of the fact that you just got slapped in the face.

Q:  I'm planning on leaving my phone number on the check, because I find my server attractive.  How much should I tip?
A:  40%.

Q:  I'm foreign, how much should I tip?
A:  20%.

Unless you've retained all of this information and are ready to apply it in real world terms, don't ever sit in my section.

50 Shades of Get Your Fucking Shit Together.

Because I can't stand not knowing what all the buzz is about, ever, I recently decided to read 50 Shades of Grey.  I'm basically an irrefutable source of literary expertise.  It's a gift.  I have a Kindle.  I digress.  I'm generally a huge fan of any literature that comes in series form; ie, Harry Potter, The Hunger Games, anything by Charles Dickens (not a series, I know, but I've named every pet I've ever had after a Dickens character, and I was a super annoying/moody/rude/sarcastic 9 year old who read "A Tale of Two Cities" and tried discussing it with my classmates.  It went way over their heads, but I was ahead of my time, so fuck them), etc.  However, a recent trend has swept over the nation that I absolutely cannot get behind: the phenomenon of books that glorify the weak female protagonist being whisked off her feet by a brooding, misogynistic, chauvinistic, control freak, and it's really starting to fucking piss me off.

Allow me to elaborate.

If there's one thing I can't stand, it's weak females who cannot hold their own.  I will never understand the thought process behind a girl who feels that she needs a man to complete her.  I'm sorry, but since fucking when can another person make you a complete person?  Take a pottery class or something.  I hear hot yoga's awesome.  But for crying out fuck, do not, do not, do not, think that allowing yourself to be consumed by someone else is a form of self completion.

As an authority on independence, I can state with complete certainty that until you are satisfied with yourself as a human, you will never be able to have a mature and healthy relationship.  When you go into a relationship broken and battered, you allow yourself to become completely overtaken by the relationship.  Instead of being empowered by your own self-confidence and self-awareness, you allow the single fact that someone else loves you to help you love yourself.  In case anyone's wondering, plenty of people in the world love you; that's what family and friends are for.

I'm a firm believer that the only relationships that benefit us are the ones that help both parties to grow and realize themselves.  In order for someone to meet his or her ideal relationship counterpart, he or she needs to be comfortable with themselves.  How will you ever know what you want in a partner until you know yourself?

The 50 Shades of Grey Trilogy is about a young, naive girl who meets an eccentric, elusive billionaire (trillionaire? millionaire?  I'm unclear), who, despite the fact that she doesn't find herself to be anything extraordinary, becomes enamored with her.  This may seem to be the quintessential romance novel, minus the fact that Mr. Grey (said unclear-ionaire) is into super heavy BDSM.  The novel essentially takes you through the shy, innocent female protagonist's struggle to wrap her never-been-penetrated mind around the idea of being a submissive to an excessively rich, arrogant Dominant.

My issue with the series was not within the BDSM material (I'm sorry, have you ever given me a shot of tequila?  I have sex stories galore.  I am far from shy).  I will even ignore the fact that E.L. James is a mediocre at best writer.  My issue lies in this single fact: the male character the book is centered around is controlling, abusive, and domineering, and yet is still revered as sexy and irresistible.

The book is one huge glorified abusive relationship.  Christian Grey micro manages every single aspect of the main character's life, from the car she drives to the clothes she wears.  He even shows up and interrupts her vacation in her home town, which was supposed to be a break from him.  She often jokes about him being a stalker.  I'm sorry, but there's nothing funny about some psycho who knows every detail of your life.  My issue with this lies within the fact that most readers are idiots, and most people are incredibly impressionable.

When a series such as 50 Shades of Grey glorifies the ideal of a man who controls his girlfriend's every move and consumes her with a psycho-sexual mind game becomes popular, people begin to try to relate the series to their own life.  I don't think there's anything admirable about letting a man make you feel as though you deserve to be physically punished.  I don't think there's anything sexy about someone who is as emotionally available as a rock garden, no matter how good looking they may or may not be.

All I'm trying to say is that I truly believe somewhere Gloria Steinem is slitting her wrists because women everywhere are getting their boy shorts wetter than Sea World over some fictional womanizer.  I think it's time for a best-selling heroine to become her own person completely independent of any male influence, especially a romantic one.

I'm only going to lightly address the similarities between the 50 Shades and Twilight series:  the location, the seemingly average girl and obviously extraordinary boy, the power of wealth, the power of sex, the abuse of all powers, the transfer of control, the voluntary relinquishing of a female's sense of self for some male who, at the very core, wants to change the female, etc.

I'm really fucking worried for the state of our country if every girl thinks that true romance lies within a man who is overbearingly charismatic and charming, yet completely psychotic and controlling.

I'm not saying that you shouldn't read the 50 Shades Series, but I am advocating its consumption with a critical eye/mind.  As long as this series is revered as completely fictional soft-core porn, and not as a model of what true love is, I think there's some hope for human salvation.

If not, well...

fuck.

I Wish Our Parents' Generation Hadn't Been Into Heavy Drugs.

I'm just going to come out and say it:  I fucking hate my generation, I'm embarrassed for it, and if I could personally bitch slap everyone between the ages of 19 and 25, I would do it.  Now is the perfect time for any flower children of the 70's/acid dropping rock band groupies of the 80's to be thoroughly disgusted in themselves because clearly their recreational drug use has spawned the morons that are clearly dooming our society.

I know I tend to be overly judgmental, highly opinionated, and I generally gravitate toward the "insensitive bitch" end of the personality spectrum, but I beg of you, anyone who still has their wits about them:  reconsider your stations in life and please attempt to rectify the terrible circumstances you've helped put our society in.

We're the generation of celebrated mediocrity, and it's only getting worse.  Now, everybody gets a trophy or a high five just for showing up.  I'm blaming public schools and mothers of ugly, under-achieving children for the roots of this asinine phenomenon.  Kids are taught these days that as long as you tried, you did a good job.  I hate to break it to you, but that's fucking wrong.  If you need any real-world examples of this, take a look at the next time an airline pilot crashes a flight.  Nobody's impressed or handing out trophies when you can't land on course.  I'm not quite sure how the over-zealous PTA mothers that demanded the banishment of races with one winner on field day expected this entire scenario to pan out, but it's a fucking disaster.  First of all, nobody has a grasp on reality.  The fact that "swag" "yolo" and "ballin", among other phrases, exist, is plenty of evidence of the lack of realistic realization anyone has.  Are you fucking kidding me, 24 year old who still lives with his parents and evidently doesn't own a shirt?  You're boasting to your peers on social networking sites about your "sick ass Swag?"  Are you even grasping the context of what you're implying?!  You've used an adjective associated with illness, a profanity, and a made up word, to verify yourself?  FOR FUCKS SAKE, GET A JOB.  I'm also a little concerned that my spell check didn't even prompt me to correct my spelling on swag.

I'm willing to wager that 95% of my generation assumes that they have some redeeming quality, when in reality, they don't.  Give it up, you're not becoming a fucking reality star because some girl on Jersey Shore did it.  It's a proven fact:  every girl who yells "ME AND MY FRIENDS NEED OUR OWN REALITY SHOW" is a perfect product of the celebration of being unremarkable our society holds in such high esteem.  I don't think that you should tell everyone how great they are, unless they are actually doing something of value.  For fuck's sake, you don't even need to actually be pretty to be considered pretty anymore.  It's also a scientific fact that, on average, all girls are respective 5's out of 10.  It's the girls who are realistic 4's and 5's that ruin everything by posting slutty pictures of themselves, just fishing for validation.  I'd like to digress for a moment and question why everybody needs to be validated so much.  I'm willing to assert it's because of all the bullshit team building classes we were required to take in school, that insist everyone is special and everyone is perfect in their own way.  Newsflash:  they're not.  Anyway, back to the mirror-photo chicks.  After said 4 or 5 gets a few comments on pictures left by equally insecure and needy of validation individuals, all of a sudden the self-confidence of the ugly girl is exponentially increased.  Now, for some reason, you're not allowed to tell people they're ugly because NOBODY REALIZES HOW FUCKING HOMELY THEY ARE.  I'm all for beauty magazines, I don't give a shit if people think they're realistic standards, at least it's something for people to work for.  Why are we telling people that being just the way you are is good enough?  Is there no drive for improvement?  Are we encouraging people to be unambitious?  I'm also, no surprise, not a supporter of the "big is beautiful" idea.  No, it's not, it's diabetic and deadly.  All of a sudden, we're celebrating women who are "comfortable in their own skin" ... at a plus size.  I'm sorry bitch, I don't know if you've realized it's not beautiful to require a Hoveround at the age of 33 because you're morbidly obese and nobody had the heart to tell you carrots and celery are the new black.

All I want is for everyone to realize how insignificant they are in the grand scheme of things.  Yes, this can be a depressing reality, but it can also be the greatest motivator.  If you really feel the need to make an impact on the world, go better yourself, improve, become someone of substance.  The more we praise mediocrity, the more mediocre this society is going to get.

Living in a world where a girl named Snooki wrote a New York Time's Bestseller makes me want to fucking strangle a kitten.

And in case you're unsure of your station in life, let me know.  I'll fill you in.

Sound Life Advice From a total Train Wreck.

Somewhere between recovering from last weekend's vodka-induced-fall-induced concussion and putting my anti-aging cream on last night, I had a harsh realization:  I'm growing up. and it's fucking terrifying.  Not physically, actually, seeing as how I've been the same size since 6th grade (which would be quite convenient if Limited Too had provided classic and timeless clothing styles), but in actual real-world terms:  I'm getting old.  As I rubbed my anti-wrinkle night cream onto my face (a night-time ritual I encourage any female over the age of 16 to do), I had a minor anxiety attack because I only have 2 years until I can justifiably start lying about my age.  This whole mid-twenties situation is starting to freak me the fuck out.  After I finished applying eye serum, I took a long look in the mirror.  Not only did I determine I am super proud of myself and my preventative measures in the fight against signs of visible aging, but I need to make a move, and fast, as to what I'm going to do with the rest of my life.

This may sound like a daunting concept, but I would also like to point out this is coming from the girl who had her first mid-life crisis at the tender age of 13.  I'm getting super irritated by the fact that I'm no longer allowed to change my major every other week, and I should probably start thinking about annoying adult words such as "stability" and "career" and "moderate drinking."  My plans up to this point had been:  marry a royal (and I haven't even met Harry yet), win the lottery, or become involved in an elaborate blackmail scheme that I profit millions of dollars from.  Since neither of these highly realistic options have panned out, and clearly I've slept with all the wrong people (otherwise I'd be ultra famous by now, and have a high-end vodka named after me), I've compiled a list of possible career options for me:

1.  Wedding Planner Extraordinaire
I'm not referring to your average wedding, with the guest list and the cake and the flowers and the lame ass toasts.  I'm referring to a new target audience:  red necks, white trash, and the lower middle class.  I plan on getting ordained to be a justice of the peace, and I plan on officiating the ceremony as well as planning it.  What's my big selling point?  FANTASTIC THEMES, that's what it is.  So, you want a pirate wedding?  I will provide a swash-buckling event!  Everything will be pirate, including your ceremony itself, which I will perform in my best pirate-speak.  I will even pay some homeless people to pillage (not rape, this is a wedding) your reception site!  I've got millions of ideas for hilariously tacky weddings, and I figure if I can offer everything for about $1000, I would be able to build up a pretty big following of idiots who don't know any better.  The best part, of course, will be the fact that I'm making a mockery of the couple's nuptials without them realizing it.  Ironically ruining the most important day of some people's lives should be quite profitable.  And enjoyable.

2.  Photographer
I realize that I have zero background in photography, but I have a natural gift.  It's called the ability to download Instagram.  Isn't that what everyone else is doing these days? 

3.  Life Coach
In case you haven't realized it, I'm fucking brilliant.  I hate everything unreasonable, and I have a wonderful grasp on reality (aside from my enormous sense of entitlement, which I don't feel is irrational at all; I'm entitled to believe I should have everything I want).  I feel as though the world would be a better place if people would let me guide their decisions.  There would be fewer toxic relationships, fewer children with dumb, trendy, misspelled names, and Southern accents may be rendered obsolete.  I'm a little unsure of why people haven't been paying me to coach their every move already, but if you're interested, I'm available. 

4.  Stand Up Comedy
Actually, this is going to happen.  I'm just so lazy.

5.  Funeral Planner
If I can plan an excellent themed wedding, I'm positive I could plan one hell of a themed funeral.  Oh, themed funerals are disrespectful?  I disagree.  I think it's disrespectful to the dead by crying.  I hate when people cry around me, mostly because I have the emotional availability of a mailbox.  I also think the whole "wear black, cry, go back to someone's house and eat casseroles" thing is so over-played.  I hate to break it to you, but everyone dies.  I see a funeral as a challenge.  Essentially, you only get one, and it's the only party with guaranteed attendance you'll ever have.  Why not throw a great one?  I feel as though I could create an entirely new market with themed funeral planning.  Not only would I be able to console the terminally ill/elderly/morbidly obese with the idea that their loved ones will be having a blast in their honor, but I'll distract them from impending doom.  Let's face it, funerals are a drag.  I intend to change that. 

6.  Vodka Promoter
I'm actually still waiting for Three Olives to get back to me.  I should probably up it to 25 e-mails a week instead of 20, I'm sure the others aren't getting through to the right people.

7.  Best selling Author
I should probably just write a book.

I Have Enough Friends, and I Hate Most of them 99% of the Time Already

As if I can't add enough items to the ever-growing list of things that make me want to gauge my eyes out with a staple, I had a brief moment in time where I thought I hated Facebook.  I grew angry reading through my news feed (which changes every four seconds, by the way.  Annoying).  I became irate every time someone tagged me in a picture.  A wall post?  Go fuck yourself.

It wasn't until I took a long hard look in the social-networking mirror that I realized it wasn't Facebook that I hated; it was the people on my friends list.

That being said, I've resolved to start holding my Facebook friends at a higher standard than I hold the idiots I interact with on a regular basis to.  No, I'm not accepting your friend request because I met you once.  No, I'm not wishing you a happy birthday because we had a poli-sci discussion together.  And, as any girl with high standards would do, I've compiled a grand list to help me clean house.

PEOPLE I CAN'T WAIT TO DELETE FROM MY FACEBOOK:

1.  Religious Zealots
With the most recent religious holiday being Easter, I was afforded a wonderful chance to see which of my idiot friends decided to post the generic statuses, including but not limited to:  "He is RISEN!"  "PRAISE BE!"  "HAVE A BLESSED EASTER EVERYONE!"  I would normally walk away from these people if I encountered them in real life, and I have no intention of abandoning my beliefs in cyber space.  Nothing is ruder than people imposing their bigoted thoughts on others.  I'm not against religion, per se, but I am against people throwing it in everyone else's face.  Sunday mornings are also a fantastic time to clean house.  The next time I have someone filling my news feed with the details of the "wonderful sermon today" I will be responding with a "delete." 

2.  People Who Post About Their Workouts
If there's one thing worse than people who impose their religion on others, it's people who brag about their workouts.  I get it, you were chubby in high school and had a hard time finding actual penetration, and now that you've got a $10.00 a month gym membership, you're basically a personal trainer.  Nobody fucking cares that you woke up at 6:00 this morning to have a protein shake and run 12 miles and now you're feeling great.  First of all, the only times I've ever seen 6:00 in the morning have been the result of a serious bender.  Second of all, I would be feeling suicidal after a 12 mile run, not great, it's fucking freezing out and it's still only 7:00 am.  Also, I'm sure it must be lonely at the top, because now that you've discovered this whole new world of super fitness, the only pictures you can post are of you, alone, in front of a mirror trying to flex, but actually just looking constipated.  I don't want to see the picture of your new cross trainers.  I could give a fuck less that you are "going to class, then CROSSFIT!  It's a way of life, gotta do it."  Shut the fuck up.  I work out too.  I mainly have been focusing on the upper body lately - swiping a credit card and bending my elbow to re-hydrate myself with wine (it's just grape juice that grew up to be awesome).  Either way, I have zero problem keeping it to myself, and everyone else should take note (as usual.  I'm infallible).

3.  Anyone who says "YOLO"
It's no secret, I've hit my mid-twenties with grace.  I am no longer a young buck, and am becoming the older, more mature, Jackie O of my generation with ease.  I had a rude awakening when I was home in CT for Christmas about just how old I am; you know you're getting old when you no longer have contact with any hometown drug dealers.  I digress.   I felt completely out of the loop on this entire "YOLO" phase.  It took me a few days, and a few painful conversations with an idiot I worked with, to learn that YOLO is an acronym for "You Only Live Once."  In true degenerate fashion, people have taken advantage of this phrase to justify their idiotic actions.  Example:  "getting wasted tonight instead of studying.  YOLO"  "running from the police.  YOLO."  I'm going to ignore the fact that "You Only Live Once" is a four word, five syllable phrase that has never needed an acronym.  Either way, each time someone decides to update their status including the phrase "YOLO" I will be updating my friends list, sans them.

4.  "Self Portrait" People
 Try as I might, I can't ignore the fact that we are the generation of celebrated mediocrity.  Oh, you watch the show Cake Boss on TLC?  You'll probably open your own bakery too, since you're so good with box-made cupcakes.  You own a digital camera?  You're a photographer, and I can totally tell by the album you posted on Facebook of off-center pictures of trees you put in sepia!  I cringe every time I see anything like this, but I've gotten used to it.  What I can't get used to are the Myspace-style mirror pictures.  I swear to fucking God, the next time a mirror picture pops up on my news feed, DELETE.  Anyone can make themselves look attractive while making a stupid face into a mirror and holding your i-Phone in a downward direction.  Who do you think you are, Snooki?  Get over yourself.  If your self-esteem is so low that you need to take pictures of yourself in hopes that someone will comment how pretty you are, I can't handle you as my friend to begin with.  Hellen Keller could see that if self-assurance is what you seek, you're probably better off not being my friend.

5.  "I'm in a Normal, Functional Relationship and I LOVE Telling Everyone."
I hate  romance, I hate sentiment, and I hate people who throw their relationship in everyone's face.  Nothing is wrong with posting photographs of the happy couple, but everything is wrong with gloating all over your status about how perfect your relationship is.  "I LOVE MY BOYFRIEND SO MUCH." good for you, Daddy issues.  Nobody gives a fuck how perfect your little relationship is, and I could not care less that you just celebrated your two week anniversary.  The only thing I want to hear about are engagements (with a close-up of the ring, so I can judge), and divorce announcements, because nothing makes me happier than murder, gore, and failed relationships.

And stop posting those stupid memes and Jenna Marbles videos.  Both insist upon themselves, and neither are all that great.

Believe it or Not, I wasn't Always THIS Awesome.

I find it outrageous that 18 is considered legally adult.  At the age of 18, I was good at cheerleading, pounding tequila, and getting pounded by frat boys.  My real-world experience was nonexistent (have I ever told you I'm from Tolland, CT?  It's not even real life there).  I'm not sure if it's my chronological enhancement (I hate aging, as a term), or the fact that I'm facing mid-life crisis #482904865209, but I've come to realize that life is one absolutely fucking fantastic roulette wheel, no matter which way you spin it.

I think every high school graduate should be required to spend a few years working before he or she decides to enter college and declare a major.  I think that if I had done what I'm doing now at the age of 18, my second degree choice would have become my first degree choice.  Life makes so much more sense when it smacks you in the face.  I think the same goes for relationships; you should be required to have a few really ridiculous experiences before you're allowed to settle down (more on that later).

I digress.  A little while ago, I received a facebook invitation to my high school reunion.  While there's absolutely no chance in fuck that I'll be attending, the invitation itself was quite thought provoking.  In my opinion (which, by the way, is fact, so it's actually the only opinion that matters), reunions of any sort are a time measuring mechanism; a way to gauge who's changed, who hasn't, who's succeeded, who's failed.  Don't get me wrong, I love a chance to tell people they've gotten fat just as much as the next asshole, but I don't think a high school reunion is any type of event I'll ever attend.

Here's why:  I have minimal interest in actually interacting with the people I was forced to be educated alongside.  I enjoy stalking them on facebook from time to time, and cringe every time I hear the mention of a familiar name through a third party source (and for the record, friends from CT, stop telling people how I'm doing.  Tell them I've become a gypsy or something.  They're just nosy, not caring).  I also have found that the people I find to be the most worthwhile human beings are ones that weren't in my direct circle of friends in high school, so a reunion wouldn't be the best venue for a get-together (I'm talking to you, Ashley Adams).

All this being said, I'm armed with a bottle of Apothic Red and a highly reflective nature as of late.  So, without further ado:

SHIT I WISH I COULD HAVE TOLD MY 16-YEAR-OLD SELF:

1.  You've spent the past five years trying to impress the assholes you want to be your friends.  Regardless of what you do or say, you're better than them.  Not in the snooty, turn-up-the-nose kind of way, but in the sense that you actually are a genuinely good person.  The fact that you've kept the secrets of who screwed who's boyfriend, and who's started which rumor, goes to prove how weak you are to your own morals.  I know popularity might seem like the most important thing right now, but, believe it or not, ten years from now, none of this will matter.  You're going to meet some of the best friends that the world could give you - just not during your time in high school.  Be nice to everyone, but it's okay to be more judgmental of character.  This is high school:  popular doesn't mean "well liked."  The girls you worry about impressing and being on good terms with?  You're going to hit a point, about 3 or 4 years from now, where you'll forget some of their names, I promise.

2.  You're actually amazing.  It's okay to be smart, and the only dumb thing about you is your unwillingness to show it.  Slacking off in class is a bad habit, and it will catch up to you in college (I promise).  And those boys that you think won't like you because you're way smarter than them?  One of them winds up getting super fat, the other one continues to hook up with high school girls throughout his entire time in college, and I'm pretty sure the rest wind up in jail at some point or another.  Social status might seem like the most important thing right now, but trust me, it's not.  Telling people you want to be a high school English teacher because it elicits the response "I bet you'll be the hot teacher all the boys want" is actually significantly less cool than admitting you are that weird, introverted chick who enjoys books and would be perfectly fine being a hermit and writing a best-selling novel by the age of 25.

3.  Bleach blonde hair is not a good look for you.  You're going to go through phases of toying around with your appearance, mainly because you have a hard time trying to get others to see you the way you see yourself.  At all costs, don't bother with the nose piercing, or the tongue piercing (they wind up being a waste of money, you'll take them out later anyway).  Don't dye your hair jet black (it's going to take three bleaching sessions to correct that one - you, and your wallet, are going to regret it).  The tattoos are fine - they wind up being a part of the person that totally kicks mid 20's ass.

4.  The secret to a good relationship?  You won't know it until you know what it's like to love yourself.  So, stop trying to find the perfect boy.  By now, you've dealt with your share of assholes who have used you, and you've retaliated in due fashion.  There's no need to travel across the country because you think someone might have the slightest interest in you, and please, please don't consider moving your entire life to Austin because someone tells you you're pretty.  The person you're looking for will come into your life when you're ready for him to - and it's only going to be once you've dealt with your own issues and grown up enough to realize what you need, not what you think you need.  The best part?  He's been here all along.  You'll see.

5.  Give your mom some credit.  You're a punk ass 16 year old, and she's doing the best she can.  You'll understand more as time goes on, but please realize that love brings out the best and the worst in people - the vicious fights and screaming matches all really are a labor of love, and the frustration unconditional love causes.  Oh, and FYI, the next time you decide to stay out all night, just call.  Walking through the door at 9:00 AM with a smirk on your face is never the best way to disobey curfew.

6.  Stop being such a people-pleaser.  The minute you figure out you can't make everyone happy is the minute the rest of your life begins.  You've spent your time telling everyone what you thought they wanted to hear from you.  Ironically enough, once you start speaking your mind and just being yourself, you'll find the best friends of your life.  Even better?  Everyone knows the real you up front, so you don't have to second-guess anymore.  It's a great feeling, trust me.

7.  Wake up every day and thank the world for how lucky you are.  Put good energy out there - once you learn how to do this, you'll reap the benefits.  Trust me on this.

8.  Stop telling people you don't have a gag reflex.  You're attracting the wrong type of attention.  However, your alcohol tolerance is, and always will be, a thing of beauty.

9.  Save all your CD's.  Trust me.  You still listen to the same shit later in life.  And you still get pissed at people who know THE ONE SINGLE your little emo/pop punk band had on the radio and have better tickets to the concert than you do.  That part never changes.

Preach.

I Would Resolve to Hate you Less, But You're Still an Idiot. Sorry.

Assuming that everyone had a tolerable holiday season, I've decided that the annoying "holiday cheer" should have long since departed everyone's daily routines, and it's more than appropriate for me to impose my (always correct) opinions and observations on everyone.  Seeing as how I have already stated my disdain for Jesus' Birthday Semantics, and I really don't observe MLK Jr. Day save sending the four black people I know a text message, I've decided to set the record straight on what I truly plan on doing with 2012 (aka, my 23 year on Earth).

My New Year's Resolutions:

1.  Lose Weight/Live a Healthier Lifestyle
This seems to be a common trend for everyone in the world, as anyone who frequents a fitness club could observe.  Ah yes, what better a time than the dead of winter to resolve to shed the pounds you've been packing on over the years and neglected to lose in years past?  My thoughts on weight loss/healthy eating habits are this:  give up.  I don't believe in diets.  I do, however, believe in eating when you're hungry (or drunk).  I have always lived an active lifestyle.  Aside from dancing on bar tops and sprinting from the vehicle to the bar, I also run frequently (oh, and I was a cheerleader for the better (or worse, can't decide) half of my life).  I think there's a formula that says the more you workout, the more weight you lose.  I figure if you can couple some physical activity with less caloric intake, you're on your way to Kate Moss.
Just kidding.  Who am I fooling here?  Living a healthier life style would mean banning the excessive alcohol consumption and recreational activities, and don't you dare threaten me with a good time.  My basic philosophy on weight control is this:  if you wake up late enough in the day, you can skip breakfast.  After going for a run or doing some intense cardio, consuming an iced coffee is a great way to get your energy up.  Snack as needed.  Generally, the best thing to do after working out it is to pass out for a few hours to fend off your hangover, and, once you wake up, start pre-gaming so hard that you forget to eat.  Worst case scenario, you hit the drive through late night.  Most of the time, greasy fast food has a way of coming back up in record time, so it's pretty much as if you never ate it in the first place.  When all else fails, nicotine is fabulous for curing cravings.  Try it.  Or, if you're like me, you can incorporate food into your drinking habits.  Here's an ideal day:
Breakfast:  Bloody Mary (there's tomato juice in it, and if you have like 3, you've got your daily serving of veggies covered.  Throw a celery stalk and some olives in there and you're golden.  Also, I like them with black pepper and tobasco sauce.  I read somewhere that spicy food kicks up your metabolism.  Even if it doesn't, tell yourself that.  Think thin).
Lunch:  something small, consisting of a half a sandwich or a huge salad (no dressing.  Dressing is gross.  Why would you want to change the flavor of your greens?  Add a tomato or something), and accompanied with something non-alcoholic, like white wine or champagne (made from grapes.  This is basically a fruits & veggies only diet).
Dinner:  vodka.  It's made from potatoes.  Make a dirty martini with blue cheese stuffed olives and you're good to go.  I like to have 3 Olives Cake for dessert.
Don't believe in cancer, it's always the good who die young.  Look it up, Billy Joel even said so, and who am I to question someone who's work was part of a Broadway show?
So basically, I realized that this NYR was null and void, because there's nothing about my daily routine I see a need to fix.

2.  Be Nice to People.
I really thought long and hard about this one.  I realized that I can't fight human nature, and it's in my nature to be informative.  I was almost a teacher, until I realized that I hate children, I'm way too money-hungry for that salary, and I dropped out of college.  It's in my nature to share knowledge.  I think it's only fair to let people know when they're being idiots.  It's not me being mean, it's me trying to help.  I don't understand why people are so sensitive about constructive criticism.  If people hired me as their life coach, I guarantee you there would be a lot less stupid girls in loveless relationships and far fewer children with stupid, trendy names in this world.  Apparently, this would make me 0/2.  This is another New Year's Resolution that does not apply to me.

3.  Reconnect with Old Friends.
Just kidding.  Care to know what I'll be doing in May of 2012?  Like I have a clue, but I damn sure will NOT be attending my high school reunion.  If I could use two words to describe my general attitude towards the people I was forced to be educated alongside in my youth, they would be "uninterested" and "apathetic."  No.  I didn't care what you did with yourself five years ago, and I sure as hell don't care now.  The only way I would go near anything related to my high school class is if I were offered some sort of time-travel opportunity where I could impart my current wisdom and knowledge unto my 15 year old self.  I would have wasted even less time with those people, and would have actually spent time getting to know people that were truly interesting (ironically enough, the people I am most intrigued by and have the most respect for of my graduating class weren't close friends at all).
So thanks, but no thanks.  I'm a firm believer that wherever life takes you, the people you're meant to have in  yours will be with you regardless.  I also don't think there's a chance I could get through any type of get together of this sort sober, which inevitably means I'll wind up telling someone he or she looks terrible & has gained an unforgivable amount of weight.  0/3

Which would lead me to my real resolution:
Survive the apocalypse.  It's the only logical goal to give myself, really.