Stuff I Think About

I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to go to Greece. While I’m there I will meet a young fisherman and then draw a portrait of him and we will fall madly in love but our families hate each other. I need to do this because I’m just really unsure of who I am and I need to go find myself. Oh wait, that’s one of the plot lines of Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. Also, my drawing skills are amateur at best.

I should really start finishing the things I start. I am the worst at this. I have…hold on let me count…FIFTEEN unfinished blog posts. I don’t even want to know how many other non-blog related  things I’ve started writing that I’ve just never finished. I get bored with things easily and have a tendency to want to start fresh all the time. See also: commitment issues.

I need to stop comparing myself to others. What I mean by this is I’ve got to accept that I am unemployed and facing the very real chance of having to move back home to the outer edge of civilization, despite the fact that there are other people my age who have their shit together. We can’t all have our shit together. Some of us don’t have a fucking clue and that’s alright.

Remember when I was one of three white girls on a ghetto cheerleading squad? The other night, I randomly started doing this step we used to do that went along to Clipse’s Grindin. Yes, I used to cheer in high school. I’ll give you a moment to process this information.

What ever happened to Clipse? (Listens to Clipse while finishing this post)

Sometimes I feel like an Angela Chase in a world full of Jordan Catalanos. Remember that episode of My So-Called Life where Angela thought that Jordan’s song “Red” was about her, but it turned out to be about his car? Well, that’s never happened to me, but it could happen to me. Hypothetically. I’d kind of actually like for that to happen to me. Hypothetically. But not really because that would suck.

I’m so broke. Should I, like, sell some plasma or something? I once jokingly told my mom I was going to do this and she started gagging.

Is a phone screening the same thing as a phone interview? Because I have a phone screening tomorrow and that makes it sound like they’re going to sit me down in the proverbial interrogation room and ask me why I was a month late on my car inspection once.

Ryan Gosling’s neck tattooI know it isn’t real, but why.

Am I hungry or am I thirsty? I read once that the brain sometimes confuses the thirst signal for the hunger signal and ever since I’ve been having this internal battle. Throw boredom into the equation and I am just such a mess, you guys.

Do I really like Ernest Hemingway or do I just like the idea of liking Ernest Hemingway? From what I understand the guy was kind of an asshole. I’ve always liked his writing, but I despise his female characters. In Hemingway’s world, there are two types of women: bitchy and fickle or vapid and boring. Whatever.

Michael Fassbender. Hillary Fassbender. Hillary Scales Fassbender.


3 Lessons I Learned in NYC

I was originally going to do a video for this, but I just got caught in the rain and I look like a wet dog.

As some of you may know, I went up to the big apple a while back. Yeah, like a month ago. I learned three very important lessons on my trip:

1. Wear comfortable shoes. I was all like, “Oh yeah, I’m gonna wear my cute little dress with my cute little sandals.” What a dumbass. I spent more time complaining about my foot pain than I did enjoying the New York experience. I couldn’t feel my hips for a week afterward. Next time, forget fashion. I’m dressing like I’m going to the gym (ya know, if I ever went to the gym). I’ll complete the look with a fanny pack. And one of those clear plastic things that you put your credit cards in and wear under your clothes (ya know, if I had credit cards).

2. Don’t smile at anyone. My friends and I were at a bar, standing in our usual circular formation because no man is worth anything unless they are confident enough to enter our fortress. I was laughing at something and made the mistake of looking to my left while still smiling, accidentally making eye contact with this dude. Uh oh. He comes over and just starts dancing, not with any of us, just by himself on the outside of our group. I’m so painfully skilled at the brush off that I brush off guys THAT I LIKE, so this was a no brainer for me. In doing this, I left my poor friend Laura to deal with him. Laura, if you ever read this, I am sorry. Then he starts telling everyone to do this dance where we thrust our breasts upward (yeah it was effing weird). A couple of us start doing it for fear that he was a serial killer. If I didn’t do his dance he would probably kill me and then every time he saw a girl who looked like me he would kill them too. Anyway, we’re nervously doing this…thing…and he, I kid you not, goes, “Oh yeah, that’s what daddy likes.” Uh whaaaaat? This was mostly directed towards Laura. Again, please forgive me. So yeah, we just walk away at that point. Moral of the story: never laugh with your friends because you might accidentally invite a serial killer into your group.

3. Haul ass everywhere you go. I never knew that I moved at such a glacial pace until I was in the Subway station. At one point, I swear I felt like Simba when he was stuck in the stampede. Except I didn’t have Mufasa to come save (and then die for) me. Shit, I’m sad now. Everyone was so wired up and nervous that I wanted to just stop and shout, “CHILL OUT PEOPLE THE CITY ISN’T GOING ANYWHERE CALM DOWN YOU’RE MAKING ME NEED AN ATIVAN.” This is also another reason you should wear comfortable shoes. And keep anxiety meds on your person at all times.

There you have it. Now, heed my advice and go to New York because it’s awesome.

My Take on Sports

To all the girls out there who love sports, I am sorry because I am the girl you hate. You’re the sporty chicks who can kick it with the fellas. I’m the girl who once thought halftime at a football game was over before it even began. Needless to say, my sports knowledge is limited. Here’s what I have so far:

Hockey –

Why I like it: It’s fast-paced and every man on that ice has facial hair. (Cam Ward, if you’re reading this, I love you and would gladly bear your children).

Why I don’t like it: Safety first, I always say. Sticks are flying around everywhere and I worry that they will all be killed by blunt force trauma to the head.

Golf – 

Why I like it: If it’s televised it’s super great to nap to. If I’m seeing it in person….uhhh….the grass is really pretty? I also love mini-golf.

Why I don’t like it: Everyone is dressed in business casual attire and I’m really creeped out by that for some reason. It’s eerily quiet, yet sometimes people will yell, “GET IN THE HOLE!” and that is weird.

Basketball – 

Why I like it: The men are really tall and the men are really tall. Also, I keep up with the Kardashians. Because of this I am emotionally invested in Lamar Odom’s career.

Why I don’t like it: Are the men too tall? How tall is too tall? Plus, Lamar was so sad when he had to leave the Lakers. LA was his home! I felt his turmoil.

Baseball –

Why I like it: ……….

Why I don’t like it: ……….

Soccer –

Why I like it: The clock is constantly running. I am obsessed with watching the clock at athletic events. I don’t know why but it’s fun for me. Also, I like my men quick and wiry. Also, David Beckham and that Burger King commercial where he says smoovie instead of smoothie.

Why I don’t like it: I don’t understand any of the team names. Real Madrid? As opposed to fake Madrid? Manchester United? Why not just Manchester? I’m so blatantly ignorant on this and I kind of hate myself but I also don’t because why.

Football –

Why I like it: College football for the tailgating. Professional football for the….whatever I don’t know.

Why I don’t like it: I am from Virginia and we have no NFL team. Virginia is the birthplace of this nation! Where is our team, I say!   WE HAVE NO TEAMS. So all of us have to be like, “Well I guess I’ll pull for the Panthers…ya know…since they’re close to us.” This makes us feel inferior.

I was going to include tennis but I’m just so over this topic right now. Join me tomorrow when I talk about the new Sigur Ros vid featuring Shia LaBeouf in la buff*.

*Just kidding, I probably won’t blog about that. I just wanted to say Shia LaBeouf in la buff. 

Lets Talk About Fifty Shades of Grey

Ladies. Ladies. Attention: Ladies.

If you’ve been living under a rock on another planet in another galaxy and don’t know about this book, let me give you a quick summary. Shy, naive recent college grad Anastasia Steele meets strong, powerful CEO Christian Grey. They get involved. She discovers that he’s into some hardcore BDSM/S&M whatever stuff and that he takes “mommy issues” to a whole other level. Ah, but then she starts to fall in love with him…..but at what cost, ya know??? What will happen? Will he change for her? Blah blah blah.

The only way I really know how to describe this book is to call it porn for women. It’s actually been pulled from some library shelves for being “too pornographic.” (Oh snap!) That’s right sisters. Gone are the days where you have to sit there and watch a girl give a guy head for ten minutes before a less than satisfying sex scene that only caters to a male audience. Now that we have Fifty Shades of Grey, we can turn to just about any page we want and find something to suit any taste. You want regular run-of-the-mill “vanilla” sex, as Mr. Grey likes to call it? This book has it. Oh, but maybe you want something involving a riding crop, cable ties, and a blindfold? It’s got that too. Seriously, nothing happens in this book except sex. Eh, there’s some other stuff about graduation and an internship and a mother who lives in Florida. Is it Florida? Or Georgia? See, I can’t even remember because it doesn’t matter.

I have to warn you that the writing is miserably horrible. The dialogue is forced and the characters just all around suck. I’m thinking the lack of character quality has something to do with the fact that they are based on Twilight fan fiction. Christian Grey = Edward. Anastasia = Bella. That other dude that is in love with Anastasia, but she only likes him as a friend = Jacob. But I mean, you’re not going to read this book because it’s intellectually stimulating. You’re going to read this book because it’s stimulating in other areas, if you catch my drift.

You might be saying, “Oh Hillary, I could never enjoy a book that involves the degradation of women solely for the purpose of a man’s sexual enjoyment. Feminism forever!” And I was saying the same thing to myself until I was like EFF THAT THIS IS KINDA HOTTTT. In fact, there were only two things about this book that offended me, neither of which involved sexual acts. One being that this story takes place in 2011 and this girl doesn’t have a laptop. Call me privileged, but how in the world did she survive college without a laptop??? Christian graciously gives her one, though, so she can research his “practice” and also so they can exchange dirty emails. The other thing being that in one scene she is getting ready for a date with Christian and she pins some of her hair back with a comb. A COMB. I’m assuming it’s one of those small ones with the little embellishments on it. No one has used those things since the dawn of  teased hair a.k.a. THE EIGHTIES. Get in our decade, E.L. James.

So yeah. Fifty Shades of Grey? More like Fifty Shades of Wait A Second…Am I Into that Shit?