Jean therapy

Your favourite pair of jeans – the ones that made your bum look absolutely fabulous and fit perfectly in just the right spots – decided to fail you in life by ripping in the most awkward area. Not a ‘I’m so cool because I’m a hipster and don’t care if there’s a hole in my jeans’ kind of hole but the kind that makes them unwearable. Seriously, the jeans that you have depended on for the last few years have finally let you down. Now you have to spend the next month or so trying to find another pair that are equally as amazing so you can make them your go-to item of clothing. So you shop around and you quickly get frustrated because jeans are a staple in your wardrobe and you feel the need to fill the void. You keep trying on pairs but nothing fits quite right – some are too saggy around the bum, pulling around the thighs or just a few inches too short for you (I mean if you can’t wear heels with your jeans, then what’s the point?).

You finally end up taking home the first pair of jeans that kind of look okay and are on sale because, really, you need a pair of jeans in life. You start wearing the pair to break them in and immediately regret your decision. They just don’t quite fit right. I mean they do the job, I suppose, of what pants are suppose to do – keep you warm and make look good. But still, there’s something off about them. You wear them for a little awhile until you realize it’s just not working for you. Then you remember you didn’t actually throw your favourite pair of jeans away. You kept them in your closet...just in case. You take them out, put them on and remember all the good times you had in them. Suddenly, you see your old pair of jeans in a whole new light because in comparison, it seems to be the better choice. But can you really pull off wearing them again? Will your friends judge you for wearing a holey, torn pair of jeans. I mean, if you stitch it up just right then maybe, just maybe, you can make it work. Or should give these new pair of jeans a fair chance. Maybe if you wear them just a little longer, they'll begin to stretch out a bit and fit to the contours of your body like the other pair that you got so used to did.

Relationships are like a pair of jeans in that way. Good ones are hard to find. You can try hundreds of pairs and even then you often settle. But if you do find the perfect pair, give them a little TLC. Read the cleaning care/laundry labels and handle with care because when it's right, do your best to keep 'em intact.

By the way, random analogies - it's a thing. ^L

Stretch in your Step

"Oh, they're just so comfy"
"I can do anything in them"
"It makes me feel like I'm not wearing anything"

Seriously girls, we've heard it all. Leggings are NOT a substitute for pants. No one (that's right, no one), not even your mother or significant other wants to see you in something that looks like another layer of skin that you've developed. Leggings are comfy, I'll admit it, but they're meant for super long tops or dresses - it doesn't matter how fit you are or how trendy you think you look.

And if you really really just can't give up the idea of having skin tight bottoms with an inappropriate top - well, then buy a pair of skinny jeans (NOT legging jeans or jeggings as they're affectionately referred to). A jean means there are at least 4 pockets (normal = 5 pockets, but we can let it slide) - and there's stretch in them too. But you know the main difference? They're actually meant to be pants! Who would've thought?

Moral of the story? Leggings as pants? Definitely not a thing (ps. it never was a thing to begin with). ^K

You call that a raise?

It's here. The day you've been dreading and highly anticipating at the same time: your financial review.

You're pumped because you believe that you will finally be recognized and rewarded for all of the long hours and terrific work you've done. You let your imagination go a bit wild - the thought of new brakes for your car, that all inclusive vacation and winter boots that don't leak - all seem within reach.

But then it happens. Your nightmare - your raise is minimal and well below the industry average for your position. You've had enough. You vowed to yourself that you wouldn't cave and that it's finally time to stand up for yourself. So what do you do? You negotiate. It's funny how university was supposed to prepare students for their career lives ahead. But when did they ever teach how to negotiate?

People in the early to mid twenties are the worst at this because they don't know what they're worth. You may not be married with two kids, a minivan or have a mortgage, but this doesn't mean you don't deserve to make less. If you don't feel respected through your compensation, it's time to move on and find a company that will. Giving yourself the respect you deserve is a thing. Staying at an underpaid job for too long because you're afraid to ask for more - not a thing  ^B

Single by the numbers

When talking to my single friends, we have the same question: why is it so hard to find a normal guy? And we're not even talking about finding a boyfriend – just a decent looking guy who isn’t a complete dumbass. (Because here’s a secret boys, that’s all we want, plus the ability to start and hold a normal, non-awkward conversation). Most guys would say we're being picky but I know the real reason why it's so damn hard.

Similar to the math done in 'How I Met Your Mother', let’s take a sample pool of a hundred guys in Vancouver. We’ll say half of them are too old or too young, so we’re left with 50 guys. Of the 50 guys, I’d say half of the guys are in relationships...so we’re down to 25. Of these 25 guys, 10 are gay, now there are 15 eligible men to choose from. But wait, of these so-called eligible men, 14 of them are either too short, huge douchebags and/or tools, guys that we’re just not attracted to or all of the above. Moral of the story is that we’re left with ONE guy and there are 10 other single girls in Vancouver fighting for him. Single by the numbers, it’s a thing. But I have no idea how to fix this so if you have a solution that doesn’t involve importing men from Fort Mac (where the ratio is about 50 guys to 1 girl), please do share. ^L

The quarter life crisis

When I was younger I had it all figured out. I was going to have a successful career, get married, have three babies and live happily ever after – all before the age of 30. I’m 25 now, so I’m pretty sure that isn’t going to happen (especially due to my incessant need to date juice-boxes). It seemed liked we all grew up with this notion that it was the thing to do: get a degree and become a responsible adult. But somewhere along the way, this ‘plan’ got messed up. For whatever reason, we’re no longer under the societal pressures of having to figure out life by 25. Maybe it’s a good thing because we aren’t settling for an unfulfilling/mediocre job or that we’re not marrying the first guy/girl who is just kind of okay (or that knocks us up?) But we also now have this new void to fill – if we’ve pushed getting married/having babies or delving into a successful career to later in life, then what the hell are we supposed to be doing now and what’s supposed to make us feel like we’ve accomplished something so we feel satisfied or happy? What are the new standards in which we’re supposed to live by? So starts the quarter life crisis. 

Unfortunately, being 25 and all, my life is still in flux and currently in a quarter life crisis (like many of my friends). The quarter life crisis is a hot topic of discussion and sees us often contemplating and second-guessing every major decision we’ve made from the day we turned 19 including what we majored in and our current job situation to who we’re dating and moving out in life. We’re at an awkward in-between stage where we feel like we’re on the brink of being grown-ups and maybe should push forward into adulthood but still feel like we’re being held back by our youth. But here's the thing, we often forget that we’re still young and don’t need to know exactly where we’ll be in 10 years because WE HAVE TIME. When in doubt, the ‘Rachel’ math comes into play (you know what I’m talking about, from Friends when Rachel turns 30?) Work backwards from the age you want to have life figured out so you can determine when you have to start worrying about it and hopefully, like me, you realize that you have at least 3-4 years before you need to freak out.

Moral of the story, the quarter life crisis is totally a thing and while it may feel like everybody around you has settled into adulthood, know that there are many of us out there still trying to figure out our shit. As long as you’re making proactive steps towards what you want/what makes you happy; you’re not remaining stagnant in a place of indifference, holding onto things because they’re comfortable (whether it be a person or job) and constantly challenging yourself with new things, then you’ll be just fine. So, make mistakes, take chances and get messy (bonus points if you know where that's from) because life will work itself out. ^L

The little things

Life's milestone's tend to come out of no where. Birthdays - those sneaky little buggers - have a way of blindsiding you, even though you've been preparing yourself for 365 days. It's the same every year: too much drinking, a terrible hangover (you really aren't that young anymore), and then a mini-anxiety attack thinking about all of the goals that you (or your parents or society) has set that remain unfulfilled. 

Relax. This happens to everyone (and yes, I know you've heard it before).

This year, instead of freaking out over what hasn't happened yet, take a minute to look back at what you've accomplished. You may not be in your ideal career path, but what skills and experiences have you been working on and gained? Did you finally make it up the Grouse Grind or read those books that have been propping up your computer monitor? 

They may be the little things, but it's the little victories that lead to triumph. Freaking out over life's possibilities? Not a thing. But rewarding yourself for mastering the realistic ones? It's a thing. ^B

You're trifling

The awkward small talk about everything in life, but really nothing at all; the contemplation of whether or not this ‘thing’ between you two will go any further; the contingency plan you’ve devised with your friend to call you with an ‘emergency’ at 8:07 pm (because 8pm on the dot would be way too obvious); the excuses you make up in your head just in case you really can’t stand the guy. First dates, oh what fun times. Well, they should be fun times – at least in the beginning anyway. But the problem is that we’ve been dating for so many years now that it’s become the same old thing every single time. We assume that these dates will involve a standard coffee/drinks and/or some sort of food situation and will be altogether pretty uneventful (except for the whole should I/shouldn't I go up to his apartment debate which is always fun). In this day and age, we don’t expect any sort of grand gesture; in fact if the guy doesn’t have any strange habits and is relatively normal, it’s considered a success. All of which is very, well, underwhelming.

Whatever happened to a bit of chivalry? A girl wants to be courted damnit! Actually putting some thought into it, buying some flowers and perhaps not expecting to get some at the end (which by the way according to a recent survey, three quarters of Canadian men say they’re often or somewhat romantic – of these guys one out of five admits his top motivation is sex - thanks boys) Anyway, I digress. How about going that extra mile to impress a girl so much that she can’t help but fall head over heels for you. That happens in real life, right? I’m not saying that millions of dollars need to be spent – all we’re asking for is a little planning and thought. Not just ‘let’s call/text each other back and forth 10 million times during the day of to figure out what we’re going to do’; asking ‘I don’t know, what do you want to do’ or’ suggesting ‘why don’t we go to your house and you can cook me dinner’ (true story, it happened to a friend of a friend of mine).

No wonder we think chivalry is dead. A friend of a friend (yes, I have a lot of those) came up with a theory to why, at least in Vancouver, chivalry is not a thing. The single guys in Vancouver take us for granted. They know that there are about ten amazing women for every guy here and are beginning to catch on to the fact that they really don’t need to try that hard to impress us. So maybe it’s on us to demand a little bit more from them. Turn the tables and not just be impressed by the fact that a guy is somewhat mentally stable and has no awkward facial hair. And to the boys out there,  we’re not asking for much – pick a restaurant, make a reservation for the best seats in the house; don’t play stupid games; call us/email us back within a reasonable timeframe – anything to make us feel like you care or that you’re thinking about us. Let’s work together to revive chivalry and make it a thing again.  ^L

New dictionary post: juice-box

noun [jus-boks]
plural juice-boxes

Definition of JUICE-BOX:
a guy in your life who is so far from being a thing in your life, that he should be thought of as something insignficant like a juice-box; or a guy in your life who isn't the real thing - diluted and artificially sweet

First known use of JUICE-BOX:
found in this article from http://www.thehairpin.com/ to reference a friend's boyfriend who she dislikes.

Synonyms:
tool, jerk, douchebag, manwhorefriend, jackass

Make smart choices

When you were a kid, you begged your parents to extend your curfew, go to that party or go away with your high school sweetie. Your defense? You weren't a kid anymore. You were an adult were fully capable of making responsible decisions.

Well we all know how well that turned out... underage drinking + thinking we were too cool for school = not a thing. But you had good intentions. Oh if only past you knew what present you does...

There comes a time when you feel like you're not old enough to be making the tough decision that is in front of you. Whether it be making a career shift, making your first major purchase, or having "the talk" with your non-committal manfriend (or ladyfriend), you're scared and apprehensive.

So why is it that when tough decisions and responsibility come your way, all you want is for someone else to make that decision or have that conversation for you? Because it's hard. And no one wants to make the wrong choice or put themselves in a position where they'll get hurt. Trust yourself to make smart choices. Be honest with what really matters to you. Be a grown up and take risks; just be aware of the consequences.

Make smart choices. It's a thing. ^B

New dictionary entry: Man-aid

noun [man-eyd]
plural man-aids

Definition of MAN-AID
: a guy in your life who's there to fill a temporary void in your life, but isn't permanent due to circumstances on either party's end

First known use of MAN-AID
: mishearing of the phrase 'ripping off the band-aid' in reference to a guy who a friend was dating and needed to dump

25 is not the new 19

You've been on your feet for the last two hours. They're sore and blistered; your new fancy pumps are just not holding out. And of course it starts to rain. Your lovely hair that you spent an hour on is going flat. You think to yourself, if only you had got here at 8:00 instead of 9:30, you wouldn't be stuck in this line up to get into <insert Vancouver bar/club name here>. Or at least if you had thought to have a couple drinks first before leaving, then you would be buzzed enough to tolerate the obnxious trollopy drunk girls in front of you in line whose voices are so high-pitched that you're sure it can only heard by dogs.

It hits midnight and you're finally let in. You walk in and everybody is already ridic drunk, so you feel the pressure to catch up. You wait another 15-20 minutes in line to double-fist two overpriced hi-balls (because that's how you roll) and hit the dance floor. There, three awkward guys (on separate occasions, not a triple team thank god!) try to grind up behind you despite your obvious attempts to pretend that they don't exist in life. Two drink spills and an ass grab later, you look around at all the crazy kids around you, decide that you're not 19 any more and leave the bar at a reasonable time because, really, all the drinks in the world will not make any of the boys in here any older.

Alas, this is a typical night for most Vancouverites who are over the age of 24 and try to relive their youth by going out to their favourite bar or club from back in the day. And by no means am I saying that if you're 25+, that you're too old to have a good time or even that you're too old to go out to a club. All I'm saying is that Vancouver bars and clubs cater to 19-23 year olds who love waiting in lines, wear clothes that are too small and put on way too much makeup in life. In contrast, there are so many other cities that don't have lines or cover ever and actually attract people who know what a Zack Morris phone is (which is another story for another day).

But I think I'm okay with this. We've had our fun, wild party weekends filled with random boys and too many drinks. We've learned from all the craziness to become better, more intelligent people (or at least I'd like to think so). Of course, we do still need an outlet to go crazy every few weekends but until somebody decides to start at 25+ bar/club (which should really happen!), bouncers start turning you away because you're actually too old to go into a club (which could be a good option?) or we hit the age where it's cool to hang out at hotel bars or can afford really fancy restaurants every weekend -- we should stick to our after work drinks on patios and dinner parties because in Vancouver, clubs/bars are not a thing. ^L

Wear what you want - but make sure it's your size!

When was the last time someone reached to the back of your shirt and checked your tag for the size? Its not really an frequent happening, right? So then why oh why is society so obsessed with what size they are? So many times I've been out shopping and I see people asking for sizes that they so clearly aren't. And it's sad. It's sad that people are in denial about their real size. Dress for yourself - not for other people. Don't be embarrassed to ask store associates for your real size - they're not judging you (although they might be if you're asking for something that's 2 sizes smaller).

Do you need to starve yourself to fit into those size 4 pants? NO. Most people can't actually tell the difference between sizes! It's all in your mind. Actually. Besides, squeezing into a size 4 and looking like a squished sausage is really not attractive - wouldn't you rather look sophisticated, polished and slimmer in a size 6? Just planting the seed...

So here's the thing. Wear whatever your little heart desires - but please for the love of mankind, make sure it's in your size! When clothes fit better, you look better, you portray a more confident image to the public, and ultimately, you feel better. So next time you're in the fitting room deciding between a blouse in a small or medium - take a step back. Is there unfriendly clinging happening with the small? Opt for the medium - it'll make you look smaller. Trust me. Dressing your size? It's a thing. And at the end of the day, size ain't nothing but a number.  ^K

Oh brother… I mean MOTHER…

“You’re going where? With who? How many friends do you even have?!”

First of all, if you’re sick of having your mother ask you where you’re going when you leave the house at 10pm, it’s time for you to move out (someone has to tell you!). Living at home is so not a thing if it’s bringing you to the brink of insanity (or you’ve reached your mid-twenties).

And if you are still living at home, you better have a good excuse (“my house is 5 minutes to work” or “I live in the basement suite anyway!”) and no reason to complain (no one wants to hear you say, “Lame. I totally didn’t want the lasagna my mom cooked and had ready for me when I got home from work” – it’s not a thing). Getting your meals cooked, laundry cleaned and never having to lift a toilet bowl brush – you’re spoiled rotten, so deal with it – is a luxury very few of us enjoy so you don’t need to rub it in!

So the next time you want to scream at your mother for doing exactly what mothers do, remind yourself that it’s likely your choice for still being at home. And if you don’t live at home and still have this problem, then lie and don’t tell her. Ignorance is bliss right? Growing up: it’s a thing. ^B

The Art of Subtexting

You'd think with our six million ways of communicating, we would be better at it, right? Sadly no. Think back to a world without caller ID, text messages and online chats (I know...crazy, right?). We actually had to pick up the phone when it rang and face the fact it could be the very person we are trying to avoid. But nowadays we spend so much time avoiding these calls and contemplaing seemingly appropriate responses via text or email that we very rarely actually say what we mean or feel at that very moment. Instead, we think about what we want to say and the perfect way to say it for a week and then respond. Maybe it's because we feel a need to sugarcoat things so we don't end up as the bad guy; or maybe it's because we are constantly trying to figure how best to word things to get exactly what you want. Whatever the reason, you'd think with all the thought that goes into a single text message that what we are trying to say becomes a clear and concise '140 character or less message', right? Unfortunately no, it has just become more confusing, dripping with subtext than ever before.

As a result, we've entered a world where we sit there analyzing a text message for all possible subtext. We don't take anything for face value. And no, in this game of #crazyornormal, I swear I'm not the only one. According to my research (which was done very scientifically, I assure you), we all do it. But don't worry your pretty little heads, we don't analyze every single text message we receive -- sometimes 'hey, how's it going' just means 'hey, how's it going'. But pair that up with maybe not having seen a certain someone for a month or two, we begin to wonder 'why are they texting me now' and 'what do they want' or as my friends like to decipher this particular subtext as 'booty call'. Regardless of what your friends try to adamantly convince you of, you carefully craft a response which asks 'what do you want' just to make sure it doesn't mean that perhaps this certain someone has come to their senses (without actually asking it of course) and thus keeping this neverending circle of confusing text messages alive.

My only brilliant solution to all of this? All important conversations should be done the old fashioned way: in person and with a lot of drinks (what works better than to put whatever you need out there than a little bit of liquid courage? Of course though, this only applies if both parties are involved as drunk texting/dialing is not a thing). But as I know firsthand, it's not always easy to have a 'let's talk about real issues', face-to-face conversation with somebody and to be put on the spot; so until we stop trying to have these confrontations over text messages and emails, the art of subtexting sadly will continue to be a thing. ^L

Are you there, job market? It's me, desperate.

This can’t be it. Your daily tasks involve mundane bookkeeping and another press release (how interesting does this company think it is?). This is nowhere near the foreign market entry planning of a multinational corporation that you naturally thought you would be doing post graduation. You’re ready to be awesome and super successful but feel defeated in life with your first real job and are starting to lose hope.

You are not alone (and please don’t break into MJ). This seems like a common sentiment amongst young professionals. University filled us with hope and high expectations, but when we got to the “real world” and ended up with uninspiring jobs, we wondered if it was all a sham and where all those “cool” jobs went.

Hang tight – the universe will deliver. You don’t have to sell your soul to get a fulfilling job with decent pay. Opportunities are there; you just have to look hard and be patient. It’s all about networking. Ugh, I hate when people tell me that, but it’s true. Start talking to people – ask questions, be interested, be interesting. The right position will come along. After all, being awesome doesn’t always happen overnight – although it would be amaze if it did. Winning in life and getting a great job is a thing. Believe and it will happen. ^B

Hats Off to the Derby!

1875. Yup - that's the beginning of the Kentucky Derby, and possibly the beginning of the "Who's Going to Wear the Most Ridic Hat" Race.

They start young...

And end... well... at just plain ridic...

Don't get me wrong - there's plenty of in between...

And there are those who are just so damn comfortable with themselves, that they'll sport anything!

Whatever your hat wearing style - hats off to you! Because dressing the part, and being a part of history at the derby - it's totally a thing.  ^K
ps. all these amaze photos? They're from here.

Playoffitis

It's that lovely time of year again. The days are getting longer, the sun is shining (well except for in Vancouver apparently), the birds are chirping (which is probably not a good thing given my Ornithophbia in life) and the bandwagon jumpers are a jumpin'. That's right, it's playoff time, also known as Vancouver's version of dehibernation.

After a long winter of deciding it's too cold and rainy to leave the house, we can finally shed our snuggies and join the masses into the crowded pubs and bars to cheer on our Vancouver Canucks who now head into the third round. And yes, it's amaze as they haven't made it to the conference finals since their epic '94 cup run. It's even more amaze that they finally beat the nemesis, the Blackhawks and that Ryan Kesler single-handedly beat the Preds. But what's most amaze is how the playoffs create a comradery among us and inject life into the city again, life we haven't seen since the Olympics (and ps. can I just mention that every Canadian city that has hosted the Olympics have won the Cup the year after?*)

Finally, people are coming together in this city, celebrating and partying in the streets; we're trading in our cliques for high-fives and fist pounds with random strangers and breaking into the anthem and 'Go Canucks Go!' chants in our bars and on the streets - and it can only get better from here. So next time you're out watching the game or dawning your best Canucks paraphernalia, make new friends with the drunkard next to you and soak up the atmosphere because playoffitis is totally a thing and, dare I say, it's sticking around for awhile. ^L

PS. Go Canucks Go!

*I'm merely stating a fact. There is no jinxing intended.

PTM (Public Transit Myth)

We've all been there before. You know what I'm talking about. On the SkyTrain during rush hour; or perhaps whilst taking the 145 bus down Burnaby Mountain. It's standing room only so you stand there with your headphones on, in your own little world trying to avoid awkward eye contact with the people around you (and of course trying to avoid having your face in the smelly armpit of the guy next to you) -- when suddenly, the bus stops, jerks even. You try to grab onto the strap, but no luck. You can't keep your stance and go flying backward into the person behind you. You turn around to apologize to whoever you just knocked over. And then you see...him. The guy you've been waiting for all your life. He's perfect. You exchange a friendly smile and all of a sudden you're deep in conversation. You then proceed to fall madly in love and have ten babies. This has totally happened to you, right? NO, beacuse shit like this doesn't happen on public transit despite the myths. I'm just saying.

It did, however, happen to a cousin of a friend of mine (and no, I didn't use cousin to make things sound more legit). Not the madly falling in love part..just the picking up people on the SkyTrain part. I'm not here to dispute the fact that it hasn't happened before (I mean myths have to come from somewhere, right?). All I'm saying is that every time that either myself or one of my friends have taking public transit (whether it be by boat, train or bus), all we see are elderly members of society, moms with screaming kids or inappropriately dressed prepubescent teenage girls with their awkward prepubescent boyfriends. Seriously. So I'll keep the moral of this story short and sweet. Meeting people on public transit -- totally not a thing. ^L

Summer Called. It Wants its Sandals Back.

The minute the sun comes out in Vancouver, something funny happens. You know what I’m talking about. It’s 12 degrees and sunny and BAM, people are in their sandals and shorts! Seriously, it’s pretty ridic. Yesterday, alone, I think I saw more toe-sluts (and no, it’s NOT a thing) than I did normal people (and normal, of course, is relative).

Here’s the thing:

• 12 degrees doesn’t equal a warm summer day
•  Don’t wear things to the office that normal people would only wear on vacation (I saw 3 offenses yesterday where people were wearing things I would only dare in Mexico – no jokes!)
• Cover your toes dammit – no one really likes a toe-slut (and I mean that in the nicest way possible)
• Save the short shorts and flip flops for days that are 20 degrees or more – then MAYBE you won’t get the crazy stares (just sayin’)

The lesson here? I think you got it. Beachwear on a 12 degree Spring day at the office? Definitely NOT a thing. ^K

Don't hate, cross-pollinate

Let me start off by saying that Vancouver is an amazing city. We have lovely beaches, amazing mountains and the world's most friendliest people, right? Well, I may have to dispute that last fact. Yes, everybody in Vancouver is ridic polite, friendly and may even be willing to open a door or two for you but seriously, could we be more cliquey? (and yes, cliquey is totally a thing). The cliqueyness (and that's just made up) makes it extremely difficult to meet people (namely of the opposite sex) outside of your immediate group.

You know what I'm talking about - when you're out at a bar/lounge/restaurant with your group of friends and they're the only ones you talk to for the whole night. Of course, there's always the drunkard who tries to get his two cents in by making some lame joke but then has nothing else to follow up with (you know who you are) which leads to an awkward silence because HE WON'T LEAVE but as the friendly Vancouverites we are, we don't know how to tell him to....

But anyway, I digress. Is that what it really takes for us to be inclusive and to meet others? Extreme intoxication leading to forced intrusion into your clique? Seriously? Some say that it's because that the guys in this city have no balls and the girls are stuck-up. Maybe they're right but I think it's because Vancouver is such an amazing city that we've all been here for a million years and have stuck with the same group of friends that we're used to and basically have forgotten how to meet people. So Vancouver, I challenge you to revert back to your kindergarten ways and the next time you're out, ask some random kids to 'join you in the sandbox'. Together, we can make cross-pollination a thing. ^L

Ridic and other nonsensical words

In life, there are now about six million ways to communicate (literally, I've counted) so you're constantly connected to everything and everybody. Back in the day, it was normal to not hear from somebody for a few days because maybe they actually didn't get the phone message that was written down on that random scrap of paper or you know, actually had a life that didn't involve an iPhone or BlackBerry.

But now we need immediate gratification. There's an understanding that you need to reply to a text, email or call within a 3 hour window (and even that's pushing the appropriate reply time) otherwise, it's unacceptable (or that you're trying to send some sort of message that you don't actually want to talk to the person which is fair). We've gotten to a point where communications need to be short to keep up with all our conversations, thereby, shortening all the words that we used.

No longer will I ever, type out 'laughing out loud' or 'don't be lame' because LOL and DBL is way more time efficient (and let's be honest, more fun). And really, typing out 'ridiculous', 'totally' or 'whatever' is way too much work -- it's all about 'ridic', 'totes' and 'whatevs' because that's how us awesome people do. So suit up kids, the world is changing and ridic and other nonsensical words are the way to go because yes, they're totally a thing. ^L

Crazy or Normal?

As a girl, I'll be the first to admit, we're all a little crazy especially when it comes to dating. We analyze every situation, looking at it from all angles and possibilities to the point where maybe you're reading into things that aren't quite there...maybe for reassurance or maybe because sometimes, in life, we just need know for sure what's going on. But there are times where the contemplating and the reflection become too extreme...that's when my friend and I like to play a game called 'Crazy or Normal?'

When you're analyzing every little thing, take a step back and ask yourself 'Crazy or Normal?' or in other words, if you weren't dating this person would it REALLY normal to be contemplating their every move? I mean really, if you're not going to stalk your friend outside her house to figure out why she hasn't called you back after a few days -- don't be hiding in any bushes* outside your boyfriend's (or guy you're casually seeing or whatevs, it's cool) house. I'm just saying.

If you find yourself playing this game, he's probably not worth it. Anybody that pushes your sanity to the point where you're frequently questioning it means, unfortunately, that it probably isn't a thing. So next time you find yourself sitting there thinking about what he really meant by "it's not you, it's me" or trying to figure out the tonality of his latest text...ask yourself, 'Crazy or Normal?' because yes, it is a thing. ^L

*Please note, there was no actually stalking involved on my end. It's all hypothetical people.