I am worthy of love, joy and success.

It was going to be a single-post kind of day but then I ran into this gem on the Huffington Post; titled “Five Steps to Staying Productive and Positive During Hard Times,” and I thought how could I let something like this go untouched by my sarcasm and cynicism—especially when I’m a self indulgent blogger. So I’ve provided you with the tips and then taken it upon myself to mock them. If you don’t feel like reading this shit then I highly suggest you at least skip to the end and read the last bit. It’s the best.

1. Dream Big: if you like to fantasize, or you graduated from Harvard and your dad’s in publishing so you can come out with a book and then everyone can go “OMG she just graduated from college, can you believe it?”

2. Believe in Yourself: I mean yes, you should, but also be realistic. Here’s a really, really important example. On the subway the other day, and this is not a fucking lie, a guy got on and said “I am Earth Angel. Girls, if you have never seen an angel before now you have. I want all girls younger than 24—if you’re a second older that’s no good—to join my ministry. I have come down here to earth because I am an angel.” If you are that guy you shouldn’t believe in yourself unless you are really and truly comfortable with being a pedophile.

3. Stop Complaining: Ummm, stop writing “newspaper articles” about self –help.

4. “Turn paranoia on its head”: What does that even mean? Honestly, what the fuck does that mean?

5. Self-Affirmations: this is the best part. I don’t even need to say anything but obviously I will. Just imagine yourself saying these. Or better yet, imagine someone else saying these while sitting alone at their desk. ( * = funny, ** = dangerous, *** = both)

I am worthy of love, joy and success. *

I am loveable and capable. *

I can create anything I want. **

I am able to solve any problem that comes my way.

I can handle anything that life hands me.

I have all the energy I need to do everything I want to do.

I am attracting all the right people into my life. ***

Spectator of Fun Losers

OBVIOUSLY smoking and drinking gets super boring to read about, like, can’t you think of anything more interesting to talk about? Haven’t you been at college for a million zillion years studying literature (woweee). Yes and blah, blah, blah. Before I move on to the inherent sophistication embedded in the soul that sits behind my awesome thick rimmed glasses and, and yeah, that is the only moderately hipster thing I’ve got going because, let’s admit it (the “us” there is probably the three followers I’ve got going) I’m like “sort of” waspy.

As September approaches and the devastating reality that I’m not going back to school sets in, it seems like the perfect time to latch on to the past and suck out memory before it turns to nostalgia. I’ve divided it into sections for people who like sections and for people who don’t like sections but love a challenge.

Monday mornings

Ok, here was one of THE MOST annoying things. Say you go out Saturday night, you have the best time ever—does he like you? did he want to hook up but like you totally intimidated him so he ran away but its because you’re so intimidatingly awesome, and not because you are like fucking weird and drunk, that it didn’t work out—and woke up the next morning on the other side of the bed, because you could make it to the other side which was farther away from the door and also not close to the bathroom in the incredibly rare case that you were sick, and think to yourself “Wow, we were all drunk last night. What a great time”

(Note: This is not the kind of thing I say when I wake up because the first thing do is roll over and say good morning to my really handsome, funny, smart, and entirely committed boyfriend and say “good morning” because I’m that kind of girl. duh).

But all of that aside, right when you are thinking how great the weekend was, this kid ruins it: “Oh my god, you were like SOOO wasted on Saturday!!!!!!!!” The kind of fuck who says things like that also uses excessive !!!! so yes, they were intentional and necessary. Why do people feel the need to comment on how much fun you had? Like, umm excuse me, why weren’t you wasted? Where were you? IN THE LIBRARY? Oh wait, you weren’t even there, you were standing watching me at the bar as I got drunk with all of the friends that I have but you don’t. Spectator of Fun.

Double Secret Secrets

Ok, this is the most fun. When you are drunk (but not high because you don’t do drugs because they’re illegal) and you are in a public space and everyone else is sober. On one hand, this can also be a terrible because you are obviously the only fool in the room. On the other hand, if you can act normal (or at least act normal which, when you’re drunk, sometimes is actually acting overly overtly normal) then you have this awesome secret that no one else knows and you can have the best time in the world. This is the most fun, but if you’re someone like the spectator loser from section one then this will probably never happen to you.

What goes through my mind when I drive my car (from my father’s perspective)

Yes! I get to drive my car again. I’m so glad it’s my car and never ever belonged to my father. I am completely oblivious of the fact that it actually belongs to him. I wonder who pays for the snow tires and gas. I bet it comes from all my internship money.

I think the inside of my car looks super clean, maybe I’ll stop by a garbage dump and fill it with crap before I get going.

I am so glad its raining out. I think I’ll drive as fast as possible. I love when I can barely see out the front of the car because the weather is so bad. Maybe I’ll just shut my eyes if I get the chance. I wonder if I’ll be able to hydroplane. If I just go fast enough I think I can pull it off.

Today is the ideal day to get on the Taconic Parkway. I can’t wait to take the most challenging route and completely ignore all of the road signs—especially the speed limit; going around those curves at 90 mph is so exciting. My friend Jenny did it, which means I can do it too. Plus, there are never policemen on the Taconic and, if there are, they will be so impressed my car can go so fast.

Why are there other cars on the road? This is absurd! I am so surprised to find myself driving along side other people. I figured I would have the entire parkway to myself because the highways are usually so empty.

Oh, looks like I need gas since I’m miraculously driving on empty. The red mark on my gas gage is probably just there as a suggestion. Hmm, where can I find the most expensive gas station? I love spending money on gas. And, if I’m lucky, I will also find a gas station like in that movie The Hills Have Eyes. I could totally beat anyone’s ass! It’s too bad it’s not nighttime because this would be the ideal time to assert my independence as a woman. Or maybe there will just be some truck drivers there with super awesome tattoos, and I could just get a ride from someone else! I’ll offer to split my beer with them. That’ll do the trick!

The hungriest in the whole wide world

There is a huge advantage to living alone, or with your friends, or with your unbelievably hot boyfriend who loves you NO MATTER WHAT you do because he is just ideal like that, that you don’t really think of until you are living with your parents (even though you are like really confident that you will be living with the guy from the subway really soon because destiny is destiny and you can’t change that). The advantage is that you can stuff your face whenever you want without wondering if anyone suspects something and, when you might be feeling a little paranoid (or maybe you’re just perceptive and cautious, who knows) this is really nice.

In contrast, when your mother is sitting home when you get back and are the hungriest you have ever been in your whole life; you worry. You might go home, after extensively visualizing the bag of mini oreos on your counter, to find you mother guarding the kitchen like someone who guards things from individuals who do drugs even though they don’t know they are guarding anything. You have to start acting like you are Harry Potter in The Sorcerers Stone (You might get a bit distracted because you start thinking about how crazy HP is) and you are sneaky, and agile, and good at snatching things up and running. You might literally run into the kitchen, find your mother, pretend you are looking for something (but honestly, like what could you be looking for in the kitchen other than food? but you don’t think of this because you’re on a mission), and run back to your room. No one asks why you are running. (Maybe you only think you are running). And, when you do finally find yourself alone with this bag of oreos, you discover that the fact that you can literally have a handful of oreos is really cool.

Blogs my mother could write (middle school edition)

Things you don’t know but I do.

Are you leaving the house? Let me give you this critical chore to do right now.

Because I said so.

Are you on the phone? Let me pick up and dial anyway

Looks like you’re trying to get some privacy. Let me come in your room.

Its 9:05 where are you?

It’s 9:06 where are you?

It’s 9:07 where are you?

It’s your mother. Call me back.

How could you possibly be unreachable. I’m cutting off your phone.

I really cut off your phone.

You are so much lucky than I was.

You don’t even realize it do you.

You know what. You don’t.

You don’t need a bra yet.

You are NOT the nipple girl.

I'll just wait till your friends intervene and give you a bra. And deodorant.

It’s 10: 03 where are you?

Hey, hi, how are you?

This summer my parents had a cocktail party. My special job (because I’m a big girl) was to help pick out the beer. Fact: when you are coming off of your senior year in college and you were seriously like so fucking cool that you drank the most beer in the entire world you will suggest that your father does the same when you go to the liquor store together. Fact: Old Wasps like vodka not 30s of Bud light. You don’t even need beer for situations like this.

It’s a shame that you can’t eliminate the whole “talking” element of cocktail parties (by the way, type or say “cocktail” enough times and the “cock” part becomes hysterical) because the thing is that you just say the same thing over and over again to everyone.

Hey, hi there, yes hi, how are you? It’s great to see you. How’s your summer going? Oh that’s so great. It’s funny you should say that because my summer has been “great” too.

I’ve spent the time working for free—don’t worry I hate getting paid so it’s pretty much the perfect setup. That’s right I go into the office everyday, sit down, work, and I don’t ask for anything! It’s the best. I mean, let’s be honest. What would I possibly do if I got a paycheck? Move out of my parents house?! Like, nevvahhh!

Oh yes, graduation was a blast. That is so kind of you to congratulate me. You know what, Mrs. Mortimer, I have a story you are going to die when you hear. So my friend Emily---you would like luuuuhve her—was like completely wasted the night before and she was still drunk at graduation and she threw up in her cap. Isn’t that hysterical? I mean who remembers their graduation anyway? Hahaha—NOT ME!

But wait, how long are you going to be here this summer? Did you just arrive? That is so short. What a shame. I too will be here only briefly since I have really important and demanding obligations back home. I’m hoping to stay just long enough to get some serious drinking in and bang your son. Yes! I saw him! I didn’t mention that? Well I did. I heard he had a serious cocaine problem this year but let’s be honest: he looks great...Oh, you didn’t hear that? I’m sure it was just a lot of exercise. I mean that can do wonders. Ya, no, I mean you’re right, I wouldn’t know.

Oh, excuse me, I see the bar and I need to go.

People/ Things on my shit list

1. Alexis Bledel

2. The Movie "Post Grad"

And, yeah, that's it actually.

"Boyfriend jeans" are for single people

My dad and I went to blockbuster the other night—little variety—and rented Memento in BlueRay. At the checkout the girl goes “Oh man that is wicked good in BlueRay.” Her nametag said Isabel and then beneath her name it also said, “Izzy.” What the fuck? Why not just put “Izzy” on her nametag? It’s not like I feel more of a personal connection with her because in the five seconds it took me to admit that I’m watching a movie with my dad on Friday night I moved down to the quotations marks and felt good about myself because, hey, I’m not going out with my friends tonight, but at least Isabel/ "Izzy" and I are on a nickname basis.

Sunday is usually a big day for me. It's a day where I really push my limits, really test myself. While some people are hanging out with Jesus, I think how much food can I eat in one day? I just had three pieces of toast, a chocolate bar, and a bowl of cereal, should I keep going? Probably. Should I share this with people? Maybe not. Maybe I will anyway. Maybe because I'm such a huge blogger I just do it!

I also see how many episodes of Law & Order I can watch. My friend calls Law & Order SVU "Rape." Whenever I talk about Law & Order, I always hear that people only like watching SVU. What?! "Sorry, I don’t like watching your normal average criminals, I only like watching rapist and pedophiles. That really gets me when I feel like hanging out and watching TV.” Obviously companies are aware of what a hit the show is because all sorts of shit is advertised in between. But this is what I don't get. Why do match-making websites advertise? Well I've just finished watching Little Sue's body recovered from a trash can after she was raped and murdered by a guy she found on the internet but, you know what, Little Sue probably didn't take an adequate amount of time to fill out her questionnaire and she doesn't dress in cool bohemian clothing (that I can, like, TOTALLY relate to).

Not that I haven't seriously considered joining one of these websites anyway. When you're sitting in front of your TV (sorry, YOUR PARENTS TV) and your dad just asked you if you have the butter in your room, it might be time to start asking some serious questions--questions that super trendy people everywhere have decided to mock. I'm talking about the new obsession with "boyfriend jeans" and "boyfriend sweaters." It's a nice offering: Hey, sorry you don't have a boyfriend but since you decided to drink beer and eat pizza on Saturday night just wear these baggy jeans and we can pretend. Speaking of guys, I’ve seen this guy on the subway like three times. It’s probably destiny. Next time I see him I want to be like “Hey, our kids are going to love this story.”

You read blogs.

No, that's cool.

A lot of people are going abroad, doing peace corps, teach for america, helping poor kids in poor places (africa!? africa is the best case scenario for something like this), and they blog about it because, like, what could I possibly want to do on my saturday afternoon other than read about your awesome trip? NOTHING. Hurray!

And this is great for me because I'm living at home, with my parents, and I just love the blogosphere. Check out that lingo. I would say I'm not necessarily an "aspiring bloggist" but I'm thinking it could be great. Maybe I'll lie sometimes too just to shake things up. For example, yesterday I went to a school and painted it for free because I'm like that.

Aside from helping a lot of people with my strong sense of compassion, I'm not quite sure what I want to be when I grow up.

I went through a super weird period when I was obsessed with sea otters, and then I wanted to be a marine biologist. I am incredibly serious when I say, “obsessed.” It wasn’t like I thought they were super cute, I wanted to SAVE them. I was a member of “Friends of the Sea Otters.” They sent me a membership card and a khaki hat that I wore everywhere. Very cool. I wonder what that card was even for. “Excuse me miss. I don’t believe you like sea otters. Show me your fucking card.” Bam. I have one.

I mean I wouldn't mind having a job that "paid money" so I could "buy an apartment." My mother tells me I should relax because I’m twenty-two, I can do anything I want. Wouldn’t that make a killer cover letter? Dear Human Resources, Check out my age. I’m twenty-two. I can do anything.

Here is the kind of letter I actually get:

Dear Applicant,

Hey, it’s us! We know we’ve haven’t gotten back to you in—has it really been seven months? But here we are now: the company of your dreams.

It’s true we sent you an email a while back saying we weren’t interested but guess what: we are! Despite the fact that we cited “a lot of qualified and impressive candidates,” we actually just didn’t even look at half of the applications. However, after reviewing your well written, articulate, and at times astonishingly witty cover letter, we realized what a mistake we’ve made.

First, can I tell you how thoroughly impressed I am with your education? I mean, wow! Since you identified your institutions in bold face on your resume, and name-dropped them in the opening paragraph of your cover letter, I was able to pick up—almost immediately! —that you probably identify these institutions as “elite” and “respectable.” Thanks for the tip!

I also really appreciated the organization of your resume. Usually I’m distracted by the uniformity of presentation but when I saw yours I thought, “No way! This girl gets it.” Your use of bullet points, indentations, and changing fonts really grabbed my attention but was never distracting.

Now I have to be honest, I haven’t actually spoken to any of your references because I didn’t even feel like it was necessary. I understand, however, by the variety and number of people you’ve chosen, that you have developed a lot of personal relationships. Good for you!

Do you think it would be possible to come in for an informational interview? We’d love to offer you a job but we aren’t hiring now. We know you’re excited just the same.

Sincerely,

Human Resources