There Is Nothing Cute About Raccoons

The following is a list of 10 of the most important lessons I have learned so far as a single twenty-something in the infamous proverbial "real world."  Just here to share some wisdom, take it or leave it - but seriously take it because even though I don't have my life together, some of these gems are really legit. 

1.  Beer does not put out the buffalo chicken flame.

This may sound like common sense to some of you; however, you can't imagine how many times I've been at dinner with someone who orders buffalo wings or a buffalo chicken sandwich with just a beer and no water!  They take a bite, swig the beer to null the fire and inevitably have to flag down the waitress for a glass of agua.  Do yourself and the waitstaff a favor and request a water ahead of time. 

2.  Fool me once, shame on you.

Fool me twice, still shame on you. 

If there is anything I have learned from being duped by guys, listening to my friends that have been duped by guys, and watching tons of RomComs where the girl is duped by the guy, it's this: blaming yourself is the absolute worst.  Does it totally suck that you gave someone a second chance and it doesn't work out? Yeah totally, but whatever.  If it had worked out differently you would've been psyched! So, give as many chances as you want and don't blame yourself for being optimistic, but when the hurting starts to outweigh the happiness, quit that shit cold turkey. Speaking of which...

3.  Quitters actually sometimes win. 

I quit everything that doesn't make me happy because I've come to find that quitting is not synonymous with failure.  From where I stand, everything in life falls somewhere on the spectrum between makes you unbelievably happy or makes you feel totally distressed, disheartened, and disappointed.  So, once something has crossed over the center line, tips-the-scales or whatever in the wrong direction, I'm out. I'm 22. I have a lifetime ahead of me to be happy, I don't need to spend any more time, energy, or money doing something that causes me more stress than good.  The happier, the better. 

4.  Most things in life are not permanent

(except like, tattoos and final sale items). 

Whenever you make a decision, no matter how big or small, you gotta remind yourself that it is not set in stone.  I mean obviously if you make the decision to quit your job and call your boss an "effin' bitch" or something, that's probably permanent, but most things that you do are not.  If you move to a new city and it doesn't work out, you're not stuck there.  If you go out with a guy and meet his family too soon, you don't need to marry him.  You, my single 20-something sista, are beholden to you right now, make decisions accordingly. 

5.  Fergie was onto something when she was up in the gym
working on her fitness with a witness. 

I know I just told you that you're beholden to yourself, but from what I've found it helps to have someone else keeping tabs.  If you set a goal, like fitness or finding a job or not wearing sweats every day of the weekend (some of my own goals obviously) then it's good to share that goal with someone else.  Not so that person can shame you when you're not doing it, but so that there's someone else who knows what you're working on and can support you or tell you to get your ass in gear.  I'd pick a friend that shares the same goal, that can be honest with you without being insulting. 

6.  No one can see the size on your tag. 

Please read that carefully again.  NO ONE CAN SEE THE SIZE ON YOUR TAG! There are only two times you really wonder what size someones clothes are.  1.) when it's your friend and she looks bangin' and you find yourself reenacting that creepy "lemme borrow that top" YouTube video; or 2.) whatever that girl is wearing looks way too big or way too small.  The second instance is what you want to avoid.  Here's the thing, you look better when your clothes fit. People can't see for sure that you're wearing an XS, but they can see what you look like in that size. Be confident in yourself, wear the clothes that fit your body, and forget about the stupid XS-XL labels tacked to the back of your neck, it's on the inside of your shirt, not plastered on your forehead. 

7.  The only investment you can make with certainty is in

a timeless wardrobe. 

With every investment - time, money, emotion - you run the risk of the unexpected.  Someone falls out of love, something falls from the sky, somewhere falls on hard times; you cannot predict what will happen in the future.  You can (and should) make a plan, set a goal, work toward something, but don't beat yourself up if there's an unexpected trauma, tragedy, or change of heart.  I've learned the best investments are made in your passions at that moment and in the little black dress, nude heels, and wool socks. 

8. There is nothing cute about raccoons.

Women should be able to bronze without restraint or fear of judgement.  There is no worse make up fopaux than the rancid act of raccooning yourself.  There is noting cute about raccoons, dark eye make up, white everything else.  Bronze like nobody is watching, because honestly, no one is watching.  When you stumble into the bathroom after 4 vodka crans you don't want to find yourself looking like a trashed woodland creature.  Bronze, baby, bronze! Just find the shade that's right for your skin. Orange raccoons aren't majestic, they're creepy. (Recommendations include BareMinerals Warmth, Clinique True Bronzed Pressed Powder, Urban Decay Naked Flushed, etc). 

9. Online dating is hilarious, awkward, and a two-way street. 

I've referenced my online dating excursions enough for you guys to know that I'm obviously taking it sort of seriously.  In the time that I've been on OkCupid, Tinder, and POF (the former lasting about 5 hours), I've learned that it is what you make it.  I live in a small suburban town where I can't throw a dead cat 10 feet without hitting someone I knew in high school (that's like a wicked gross thing to say, but I heard that phrase once and have never used it before in context).  My point is that I don't live in some cool downtown apartment surrounded by yo-pros ready to sweep me off into the sunset and studies have shown that you're just as likely to meet your spouse at bar as you are to meet them online. So, even if I'm not doing myself any good, there's no harm in trying.  Plus, some of the post-date stories are party pleasers.  Shout out to the 6'8" leprechaun whose "guilty pleasure" was going to Miley Cyrus concerts, I hope you find what you're looking for. 

10. Secure your own oxygen mask before assisting others.

Ya know when you're on an airplane and the flight attendant tells you that in the case of an emergency an oxygen mask will fall from the ceiling in front of you (and not fully inflate, which gives me such anxiety)? Anyway, you're supposed to put it on yourself first before helping kids or old people or people who just cant figure out how the elastic pulley things on the sides work. The airline isn't telling you this because they're assholes, they're actually teaching a super important lesson about self-preservation.  You are no use to anyone if you're not breathing.  It's natural in your 20's to want to have it all together and be there for the people you care about (at least it seems natural to me) because inevitably your friend will fall flat on her face (literally if her heels are too tall, figuratively if she is also a typical twenty-something), and you're going to want to help her get back up, which will be IMPOSSIBLE if you are not breathing.  Take time for yourself.  Make sure you're shit is in order before taking on someone else's shit.  Secure your mask or whatever.  It doesn't mean you don't love the others around you, it means you want to be ready for when they need you most. 

When The (Fire) Ball Drops

2014 was the longest, shortest, craziest, loudest, quietest, loneliest, bitchiest, sleepiest, most excitingly disastrous year of my life.  I have felt proud, capable, and motivated. I have felt lost, alone, and useless. I have made friends, lost friends, kissed friends and gone to the ends of the Earth for friends.  I have eaten out, slept in, jogged, skipped, crawled and lived.  2014 is almost over - and I could not be more thrilled.

Ringing in the New Year in 2014, I had this mantra: New Year, Same Me.  In light of the end of my relationship and the start of the new year, I was standing by the affirmation that I had not been the problemn- that we didn't break up because of anything I did.  It's not that I wasn't good enough for him, it's that we weren't good for each other.  Honestly, I stand by some of those thoughts today; however, the New Year, Same Me motto took an unexpected turn because I was totally, completely and ultimately wrong about myself.  I was not the Same Me in 2014.  In fact, I could not be more different.  I was wearing tighter clothes, drinking harder liquor, stomping around in higher heels, and singing at the top of my lungs.  My hair was blonder and longer and I was rough around the edges.  Guys were no longer approaching me at the bar because I seemed like the sweet girl-next-door, I was approaching them with a chip on my shoulder and a glass of whiskey in hand.

In the past year, I've also developed an incredible cool fear of commitment, closeness, and comfort.  I've been on dates with some of the nicest guys (like President Fitzgerald Grant, whom I have recently dumped, sorry again!) and some of the douchiest guys (shout out to the 6'9" ginger who asked me what my 'guilty pleasure' was before the waitress took our drink order).  No matter the guy, no matter the number of dates, I knew I was calling it off, and almost every time, I've been right.  I've kept a distance, pretending I just wanted to keep things casual.  No one meets my family - about that I was a stickler.  Any mention of "exclusive," "dating," or commitments made more than one week in advance were out of the question... which is interesting, because the Me of 2013 played those words on loop incessantly, consistently, over and over again, like a bad Colbie Caillat song. 

So, thank God 2014 is over and I cannot wait to meet the actual New Me when the ball drops.  Instead of the kerchief open-back cheetah print top and black coated jeans I tried to sport last year (thanks to my mom for not letting my ass out of the house), I will be wearing some variation of a generic black cocktail dress...not form-fitting. .  I will sip a beer, but not too many.  I will dance in a circle with my girlfriends, instead of dancing up on a guy I don't know.  And I will NOT be ordering any shots of Fireball. 

In 2015 I will only be happy and healthy.  I will only be kind to myself and others.  I will only be a person that I admire - a person that I am proud to be.  I honestly can't wait until the ball drops.  I have a feeling it's truly going to be a happy new year. 

Puppies, Pinot, and President Fitzgerald Grant

Learned helplessness is a concept that was developed by Martin Seligman through an experiment he conducted based on the behaviors of man's best friend.  Seligman sent electric currents through the bottoms of dogs' cages so their little piggy-toes were shocked.  These cages had no apparent escape route, so the dogs were forced to stay put and endure the pain.  At first the dogs squirmed and jumped and looked for ways out of their chambers.  Next, Seligman put these dogs in cages that actually had a way out and shocked them again. The dogs, though, didn't even try to escape.  They stayed put assuming that nothing had changed.  That they were stuck.  They were helpless.

Now, I know Seligman sounds like a douche, torturing those poor puppies and shocking their little paws. I'm not even an animal person and I know that sending electric currents through the cages of theses pooches is a bad move, but what Seligman discovered through this experiment is so unbelievably pertinent to our lives, he should at least get a fist bump for his findings.

I'm not about to tell you that breaking up with my ex-boyfriend was akin to having shocks sent through my toes and that I was in an inescapable cage of emotion. That would be a metaphor even I am not dramatic enough to extend, but I am going to proclaim that I have 100% learned to be helpless.

Tomorrow night I am going on my 5th date with President Fitzgerald Grant... a little pseudonym for the guy I've been seeing that watches Scandal.  Fitz and I have been seeing each other for about a month now and things have actually been going great! We drink coffee, go for walks, talk about our classes (he's a med student...swoon) and I'm totally comfortable.  The thing is that whenever my sisters or my friends ask me what he's like or how things are going, my answer is always the same:

...fine...

Not like an angry-been-in-a-bad-mood-all-week 'fine!' or an upbeat-better-than-good-but-I-don't-want-to-sound-too-eager 'fine...!'  It's more of a got-an-87-on-this-exam-which-is-4-points-above-average-but-I-am-not-over-the-moon-about-it-I-did 'fine.' Ya know what I mean? Which is so annoying because I actually think I really like Fitz.  He's smart and good looking and doesn't own more shoes than I do - talk about a catch!  He's awesome and I think we could be moving in the right direction, but I don't want to get my hopes up. 

And there it is, Ladies and Gents.  I am Seligman's puppy.  For the last two years I have been trying to make it work with my ex-boyfriend. Over and over again I have been in this relationship where I have been excited by the prospect of being together... and then I'm left totally and utterly disappointed when things don't work out.  I give my time, effort, emotions, tacos (one of only dishes I am willing to make on the reg), and I'm still eating the tacos alone.  Now I am helplessly and hopelessly on the verge of not trying anymore.  My sisters are all, "invite him to family game night!" and "let's get dim sum!" and I'm over here like, "should I even shave my legs for our date tonight?"

So, I no longer think that Seligman was trying to be a jerk; I think he was trying to figure out why we're so willing to give up when things aren't easy.  Because when we try and try to no avail, it seems like we should give up.  But I don't want to feel that way.  I don't want to be the kind of person that looks at the glass as half-empty or whatever. Who cares if it's half-full?  What's the worst that happens when it's empty?  I want to look at it and think that at least there is room for more Pinot! (My proverbial glass is a long-stem wine glass, which makes sense because there not supposed to be full. Think about it.)

Seligman and I on the same page about this whole learned helplessness concept.  It's totally learned, but I have good news!  Another forward-thinking-asshole of his time, John Watson, proved something else with a incredibly unethical experiment (another lesson for another day). Behaviors can be learned and UNLEARNED! We don't have to feel helpless forever! So, tomorrow night I'm going to be excited to see Fitz. I'm going to hope that things go well. I'm going to look forward to the future. 

And if things don't work out, I'm going to be fine. I'm going to look at the glass ready to be refilled. Plus, I'm lucky enough to know that some wine glasses are bigger than others anyway.