In effort to alleviate my post-graduate anxiety and maintain a semblance of the literacy I have worked for four and a half years to achieve, I have decided to once again embark into the blogisphere.
I came to this conclusion as I was driving past VANTASTIC VANS on Wyoming this morning, and while contemplating the ingenuity involved in the naming of the business felt the compulsive need to tell everyone. A Facebook status seemed appropriate, but self consciousness regarding the frequency I feel the need to voice my opinions in social media format prevented me from doing so. There is a limit to how many times snarky remarks via tweet are appreciated, and I am highly aware that I am dangerously close to it.
It was therefore decided, by something much greater than all of us (namely VANTASTIC VANS) that I would start a blog in which I can inform the world of all my greatest thoughts. You’re all welcome.
People keep asking what I have been up to since I graduated, what my plans for the future are, etc. I have found that the best strategy for answering these questions is to compulsively lie. I think it is safe to assume that while my ability to avoid accomplishing anything at all is rather impressive, my grandparents don’t want to hear about my strenuous days spent in bed watching Downton Abbey and eating leftover Christmas cookies. Really though, life outside of yoga pants is overrated if you ask me, or my cats.
This is a second reason why blogging is an ideal endeavor for me at the moment. I would love for anyone reading this to picture me studiously nestled in an obscure, and perpetually dark coffee shop not so secretly pouring whiskey into my drink at three in the morning because this coffee shop is evidently open 24 hours a day as all the best ones are. However, the sad truth is that I am currently in the coziest chair in my under-heated house in my finest yoga pants, and drinking decaffeinated peppermint green tea.
In honor of the year’s impending end, in addition to the conclusion of my 21st year on earth, I have created a list of 2013’s strangest phenomena.
I only recently found out what hashtags are, and have been using them incorrectly and as frequently as humanly possible ever since. For those of you still in the dark, they are a method of categorization for your pictures and/or statuses. Side note: is statuses the plural of status? Or is it stati? Regardless, my favorite hashtag to search is #YOLO. Anything labeled as such, implicitly is also #WTF. It is never not funny to see what people hashtag as this. Just do it.
9. Rape Sloth
So this is a thing. Not sure why this exists, but I am oh so grateful that it does.
(see number 10) In case anyone was unclear, a characteristic of humanity is mortality. This means that we “only live once”. Another characteristic of humanity is a love for acronyms. Why say a phrase when you can combine the first letters of this phrase into a single word to be used repeatedly in the most irritating of times? Exactly. Hence, YOLO. My mom is an example of an acronym lover, so much so that her use of them surpasses my knowledge of what they even mean. Evidently, it is now acceptable to just acronymize (now a verb) any sentence you please. EIINATJAASYP! Hmprh. I am now a proud owner of an English Literature degree, so seeing language bastardized in such a manner is almost physically painful to me.
This fad has taken over the world it seems. What is funny about it, and particularly my commentary on it, is that I happen to be a proud cat owner and lover. This makes me an unintentional participant in this fad. However, while I love my cats and willingly use their affection as a replacement for human interaction, I am moreso a dog person. If it were acceptable to own a dog, leave it locked inside for hours and sometimes days at a time, feed it irregularly, and walk it at 2 am when I get home from work then I would already have a pup of my own. Cats just happen to be self-sufficient and less work, making them my ideal pet for this time in my life. It is incredibly difficult to convince people that I am not a cat lady in training, particularly when bottles of liquid cat nip fall out of your purse at the store when you are searching for your wallet.
Game of Thrones and Breaking Bad, respectively
I watch neither of these shows because keeping up with Friday Night Lights, Bewitched and Wife Swap is hard enough. The fact that I cry at even the smallest amount of violence and want to puke at the sight of any amount of blood further solidifies this decision. I personally think that these two shows could be radically improved by swapping some of the characters from each into the other program. I would watch this. Game of Bad, Breaking Thrones. Game of Meth, Bad Thrones. The possibilities are endless.
Not being able to spell the word decision.
This absolutely cannot be just me. I wish I was exaggerating when I said that I honestly don’t think that I have spelled this word correctly within the last year (at the very least). This is one time when “thank goodness for autocorrect” is applicable. That is almost never the case, but my brain evidently is incapable of correctly arranging the “c” and “s” in the word decision. It’s funny because even while writing this little section, I HAVE STILL MISPELLED IT. Furthermore, I have managed to misspell the word-that-must-not-be-named in three entirely different ways. How is that even possible?! I petition for a reconfiguration of this word.
As somewhat of a runner myself, I understand the whole endorphin appeal of working out. I get it, working out is cool and beneficial for your health and all that. I applaud your commitment to your well-being. What I do not applaud is the excessive amount of photographic proof of your workouts. It is like everyone in the world discovered working out this year, and are in competition to see who can talk about it the most. I am convinced that this whole workout fanaticism of 2013 is a conspiracy designed to highlight my comparable laziness and love for alcoholic beverages. “Bulking” is the newest word on the block to me, and maybe I am just not well-versed enough in fitness language but it seems to me like a glorification of holiday weight gain that we all experience, which is neither a good nor bad thing but just a fact of life. Either way, the fact that I can justify consuming copious amount of Christmas cookies if I preface it with the fact that I am bulking makes it a-okay in my book. Continue on, exercisers! I will be here bulking**
**Out of context, bulking is a really disgusting sounding verb.
My god this man is fascinating. Who else could name their baby a direction, tap dat Kardashian ass, and manage to offend virtually every human he interacts with? I would say he is the next Nelson Mandela, if Kanye hadn’t already proposed this very thing. He is so wise. I admire his PR skills so highly, that I decided to be Kanye’s twitter for Halloween this year. More specifically, I was Kanye’s twitter rant to Jimmy Kimmel. I would post a video of this hilarious rant, but as further proof of his powers the Kimmel episode is now unavailable. KANYE IS CONTROLLING THE INTERNET. He is more powerful than we thought.
I am self-proclaimed snap chat addict. Why text people when you can instead send them decorated pictures that last for less than ten seconds. Or better yet, photos of penises. It’s like chat roulette but in condensed time and with people you know. Excellent. I think we all know what this is used for, that and to say good morning to all of your friends, maybe both at once. Still trying to figure out why it seems so much more compelling than picture messages, and waiting for the day when all snap chats are released to the world. Those pictures are going somewhere.
Anti-climactic endings to countdown lists
Too. Much. Pressure. And wine. Mostly too much wine.