Pardon the interruption, but I need to get real.

Doesn’t  it suck that excitement over a major milestone in my life (GRADUATION FROM COLLEGE) is being overshadowed by what I see to be a big black hole called “My Future”?

I have yet to feel good about May 13, 2011 because I’m so effing worried about what comes after that. I’m not one of those “take things as they come” kind of people. I like plans. I like knowing what’s around the bend. I am the least spontaneous person you will ever meet. And I like things that way.

But do I really? I sit here and say that I like plans, but I haven’t done anything to plan for what comes after I get that diploma. I sit here and say that I like knowing what’s around the bend, but sometimes I find comfort in the fact that I don’t have to always be thinking two or three or four steps ahead. Maybe I should be a little more spontaneous. And not care so damn much about what other people think I “should” do.

I was talking to my Mom the other day about this and she said that when someone asks me what I’m doing after graduation I should just yell, “I DON’T KNOW,” in their face. Because, I mean, do they care, really? That’s like when you ask someone how they’re doing and they say, “Good” or “Fine, how are you?” You don’t expect them to say, “Well I feel like shit today to be perfectly honest!”

But I’m tired of feeling like a lesser person for saying that I’m not sure what I want to do with my life. I don’t have to know that at my age, do I? I know there are some that have it all figured out and are on the path to get what they want, even at 21 years old. And that’s great.

I just hate that I’ve let these four years of school become a means to an end. All I’ve thought about was how to get finished in a specified time, thinking nothing about what might come after. I thought the “after” part would just come naturally and  sort of figure itself out. And now the “after” part has arrived and I feel stuck. And scared out of my mind. So here’s the best advice (also from my Mom): I can’t let myself hole up and hide and act like none of this happening. I have to at least try and find something to do. I am notorious for thinking that if I ignore something it will go away. But this isn’t going away. It’s coming at me full force and I need to make sure I’m braced for impact.

GODSPEED!

Alright. That’s all on that. I promise I’ll be back tomorrow talking about hot celebs and OH MY GOD, did you know that Edward Norton is engaged? And Mad Men won’t be back until early 2012???? My Earth was shattered after hearing this news. SHATTERED.

Dear 16 year old self,

Stop listening to Taking Back Sunday. You stop that right now, you hear me???
Also, Nirvana isn’t THAT great. Stop obsessing. Why did you buy the Kurt Cobain Journals? WHY? Focus more on Dave Grohl. He’s still cool. And hot.

Rawr.

And while we’re talking about music, don’t give up on learning to play the guitar. Seriously. Dumbest move ever. Now I/we feel that it’s pointless to even try it again. Basically, I/we are still as lazy as ever. But what else do you have to do right now? Listen to TBS? I told you to put that ish down.

Stop shopping at Abercrombie & Fitch and Hollister. American Eagle is okay (to some extent). But then again, I don’t know where to tell you to shop since this store called H&M isn’t even on your radar yet. You will be pleasantly surprised to find clothing options that don’t include tattered hoodies and duplicate tank tops in various colors (GAG).

At only 50 bucks a pop, who could resist?!

That guy you like right now? LOSER. (Just kidding! Actually,  I don’t know if I’m kidding. I have no idea what he’s like now)

Keep watching Edward Norton movies.

Your boobs will get much bigger.

One last thing, you will meet a man your junior year of college who will change your life forever. His name is Jon Hamm.

Friday Night

Nothing to do on a Friday night?

Here’s what you do:

– Pick up a bottle of $3.99 sweet red from your local Food Lion. It’s no Barefoot, but you know what? You don’t have the money to fork over two or three more dollars. You are cheap.

– Now, you have one of two options:

1. Make this a happy “Drink wine and watch Four Christmases even though it isn’t Christmas, but you just love Vince Vaughn in that even though he plays the same character in every movie he’s in” night.  (The same goes for any Ben Stiller or Owen Wilson movie, for that matter; Sometimes you can even get a COMBINATION of these men. It’s great)

2. Make this a sad “Drink wine and watch Casper and CRY YOUR EYES OUT when Christina Ricci’s mom comes down from the heavens and talks to Bill Pullman about what a great job he’s doing raising Christina and then be like, woah when did Bill Pullman get so hot? And then the clock strikes midnight and Casper has to turn back into a ghost and you’re all Nooooo Whyyyy????” night.

As for me, I’m switching things up a bit by adding some Decadent Milk Chocolate Chunk Brownies into the mix and catching up on Californication.

Live and Love.

Like that Queen Latifah movie, but not.

Just a bunch of friends playing beauty shop. NBD.

Lets take a closer look (at me!)

I like to think that at this very moment I was casting a spell on my friend Lauren’s hair. Not a bad spell, but one that will make it grow ‘Rapunzel-Rapunzel-let-down-your-hair’ style. That is, if I practiced witchcraft, which I do not. Not that I have anything against witches. Hermione Granger is one of my idols, actually. How many people do YOU know that can pull off that Mia Farrow haircut? Not many, I should guess. Gah, now that I think of it, I hate her. I WANT THE MIA FARROW HAIRCUT.

Moral of the story: Harry Potter is real if you want it to be.

Oh…okay.

When I run out of blog fodder I turn to one of two things: facebook or missed connections.

I ran across this last night while I was looking at old pictures of myself on facebook. That’s what I do when I can’t sleep. I look at pictures from sophomore year and analyze my hair and outfit choices.  (Should I go red again? What kind of shirt is that? What ever happened to that poster hanging on the wall back there?)

I can see it now: Someone asks me about my education and I’m all, “Well I majored in Substance Abuse, but I’m planning on going to grad school for Addiction.” And they’re all, “Oh, that course load must be INTENSE.” And I say, “Eh, nothing I can’t handle. Once you get past the gateways you’re golden!”

 

Learn while working! I love America.

 

Weekenders

Deciding where to go on a Saturday night is easy if you’re me. Because my friends and I generally go to the same places every weekend.

Our first stop is always this frat boy wonderland where at first glance I’m all, okay…I can deal with this. It’s dim up in here. I like that. I like dark places. Then I start looking for some fresh meat. HAH, I’m kidding. Who says “fresh meat”? I do. Leave me alone. That’s when I pause. Chinos! Visors! Loafers! Oh my! But shouldn’t y’all be roofie-ing some freshman over at Greek court right now? Oh, this is where recent frat grads go to chill with their bros. I need a beer. WHAT?! ONE BEER IS FOUR DOLLARS. Alright, I’ll have one because I like it. It’s tastes good. They put a little orange piece in it and everything. Yummy. Keep scanning, Hillary. You come here every week, remember? Oh look! An open table! Right there by the dart boards. Because…I…love…darts? How I do love a guy who can throw a mean dart. All while wearing shorts above the knee! So sexy. I am a knee cap girl, myself.

You see, this is all okay because I’m supporting my friend who is into these dudes. The ones that are nice. Who am I to judge a book by it’s cover? But where are my kinda men? You know the ones. Tall…dark…plaid…scruffy…maybe a little alternative in that they might have a tattoo peeking out of their rolled up sleeve…

Oh gawd, knee cap is telling my friend about his business. I start imagining what kind of business I would like to open. Maybe one of those chocolate fountain places? Where you can dip ANYTHING in chocolate. The sky is limit at MY store.

Up, time to move on out! Next stop is a place that calls itself a sports bar, but really it’s just one of those places that offers cheap drinks and a dance floor for people to have sex with their clothes on. CALM DOWN, Mom. I’m joking. (Sideways face) This place is so crowded that you can’t move your feet across the sticky floor. Damn it, my black flat is stuck in what I hope is just beer. (Sideways face) We stand awkwardly on the edge of the crowd and…wait, are they playing Spice Girls right now? I’ll tell ya what I want, what I really really want. We sing this because it gives us something to do. It’s hot as a mother in here! Woowee. We’re over it. Later.

Then I get home, curl up in my bed and watch an episode of Roswell or something.

Max Evans, you so dreamy and mysterious. You’re an alien, but that just makes you more interesting!