"On Wednesdays we wear pink!" and everything else that made high school a living hell

What the hell just happened on PLL? Holy crap I am shocked. I'm sorry, did you not realize this was a Pretty Little Liars blog all along? Yeah, I was hiding A clues in all my past posts. 

Just kidding. I think. 

Anyway. Happy hump day, people! Fun fact, it wasn't until my senior year of high school that I first understood the non-sexual meaning of "hump day". I genuinely thought that  Wednesday was just sex day for all.

In honor of my high school naiveté, PLL's epic high school drama, my recent reconnection with a high school friend, and the fact that my high school reunion is rapidly approaching, I want to back track to the days when sneaking out at night and sneaking in after curfew was a right of passage and sign of bad-assiness. Back to the time when wearing the most expensive clothing was more important than being comfortable. Back to the time when lying to yourself about who you were seemed like a better decision than being yourself. Simply put, back to the time you thought was the greatest life could ever get, clouded with tons of shitiness you just assumed was a staple of life. 

What were you like in high school?  It doesn't matter.  I am a firm believer that people can change and what we were in high school probably isn't what or who we are now. 

It's great you changed. Really, it is. You know who doesn't care? The people you screwed over back then. Yes, there is such a thing as 'forgive and forget' but let's throw that out the window for now.  Let it fall til it whacks the ground and shatters to teeny tiny unidentifiable remnants of the past.  Just like the egg assignment from elementary school that I still don't think I'd be successful with today. 

Anyway, we've all talked smack about someone behind their back and it's gotten back to them. We learn from it. The person you talked about may never forgive you, and that's fine. You may never forgive the girl that made up bizarre rumors about you. That's fine too. But we learn how to move on and we're better people because of it. We're better without those people.

One day one of my supposed BFFs, Ingrid, was talking about me behind my back. In front of my face. I was like "BITCH PLEASE" and then I cried. She told me I'd changed so much because I started wearing eyeliner. Yes, seriously, that is what made me cry. I think I just hated her so much that I cried over whatever she said even if it was funny. And Ingrid was one to talk! Girl caked makeup on, including eyeliner, like a transvestite show girl in Vegas. Not really, I'm just still bitter about this apparently. I forgive her, but I will never be her friend.

Then I transferred schools, but not because of Ingrid. Because of my love of eyeliner and my want to wear it openly without judgement. Just kidding. I transferred to an all girls school so I could get away without brushing my hair in the morning or shaving my legs on a regular basis. It was glorious. I highly recommend single sex education if you want your child to forget everything they know about personal hygiene. Really, it's a great move.

Those PLLs should learn something from me. Wear less makeup, don't talk about your friends behind their backs, and go to an all girls school to avoid Toby and other sexy traitors like him. Also, call the police. Just do it. And don't go to remote cabins with creepers. Just make out with them on your front porch steps. 

*thanks, "Mean Girls"

Did You Know...?

I want to make something clear. I rarely write posts the same day I post them. Very often I write them days, weeks, or a month ahead of time and let them sit until I feel like they're finally "postable". So if in a post I say "last week" or "yesterday", it is possible that those moments referenced were actually quite some time ago. Then again, it is also possible that it was actually last week or yesterday. 

Just for some examples:
Bite Me, Blondie! was posted on August 22, but I wrote it in mid July.
A Case of Mistaken Identity was posted on July 16, but the event occurred July 9th.
abcdeFGjlmnqrz and my NYC subway journey was written and posted on July 6
Haven't You Ever Seen "Taken"? posted June 22, but the night referenced took place in mid-May.

But anyway, you get where this is going. I mention this for two reasons. One, I don't want anyone to think I have brilliant moments of creativity every day.  Two, I don't want anyone to think I'm writing a post about them because I say "yesterday with my friend" and I saw you yesterday. If I write about you, I will tell you. You will know. I promise. 

"Bite Me, Blondie!"*

What do you do when it's 100+ degrees outside and wayyyy too hot for the trusty decorative scarf? You "show it off!" as Joan so confidently advised me. Brilliant. Seriously. That's actually a really good idea. Doing the model strut/walk down the street but instead of showing off your high end fashion sense, you're saying "Look at this artwork on my neck, yo! I got some! Sucks for you, seeing as you gots no pretty marks to show for yourself."  

But what if you can't show it off? What if you're game to hit on someone -- someone who did not decorate your neck so beautifully? How exactly do you avoid that awkwardness? I have no idea. No idea at all. It's all a big messy situation that I'm ashamed to admit I've been a part of. Crap. How the hell am I supposed to successfully flirt it up all the while sporting another guy's teeth marks?

After I wrote the above paragraphs I took a break because I didn't know where this was going. That night I went to a bar with some friends where I was hit on, despite my "flaws". I've come to two conclusions. One, those guys were dumb. Or two, they saw the marks, assumed I was a grade-A slut, and wanted to get in on the action.

Now I've come to this conclusion, a week after writing all of the above. Don't hook up with someone just for the sake of hooking up. It's not a good idea. Fun. But not a good idea.


*Yes, this is from "FRIENDS". What else would I quote?

Let Me Look Into Your Mind

My mother just admitted I was psychic rather than admitting she was wrong.  Seriously. I promptly told her how ridiculous she sounded, but no, she was still right and thus I was psychic. 

Perhaps I should back up.

In a previous phone call with my mother I reminded her of someone's birthday and then continued with, "it's also Aunt Hope's birthday." Apparently this was a weird thing from me to know seeing as I never had much contact with Aunt Hope (she's my great aunt). I told my mom I knew this because I had seen it on her calendar when I was a child, to which mom said she had NEVER had Aunt Hope's birthday on her calendar, nor did she know it. So in attempt to prove my awesomeness, or "birthday psychicism" as I've come to call it, I phoned my Grandma who confirmed it was, in fact, Aunt Hope's birthday. So I called my mother back to tell her this and she continued to insist that I couldn't have ever seen that on her calendar. Thus, my psychic prophecy began.

A few days after that incident I was out with a friend I hadn't seen in years and randomly asked if his birthday was on a certain date -- it was. How did I remember it? I'm the birthday psychic.

This weekend I asked my roommate's brother if his birthday was February 7th. Right again. Somebody save me from my own amazingness!

I do have to admit I haven't honed my talent too finely yet -- I can't perform on command. I tried and I failed. In due time, friends, in due time.

But I won't disappoint, so one final guess. Your birthday is in May. May 18th, possibly? 

Coast to Coast

People always ask me if I like the West Coast better than the East Coast. I don't like this question. There are oceans in both of those places.

A question I'd much rather ponder is "Baltimore or LA?"

My Grandmother recently reminded me that LA has earthquakes, but Baltimore has Michael Phelps. I told her he has a girlfriend, she yelled, "that stripper?!", I explained she was a model. Grandma said Baltimore has Allison Schmitt. I told Grandma I'm not a lesbian.

Anyway, this list is NOT what is better/worse about one city vs the other. This is just a list of things that each city has. (I have a feeling this might be a very boring list.)

Baltimore/Surrounding Areas:                                Los Angeles/Surrounding Areas:
Michael Phelps                                                                  Dodgers
Allison Schmitt                                                                  Angels
Orioles                                                                                 Kings
Ravens                                                                                 Lakers
Inner Harbor                                                                      Clippers
Wegmans                                                                            Smog
Snow                                                                                    Traffic
Humidity                                                                            Runyon Canyon
Rain                                                                                     Earthquakes
Crabs                                                                                    Mudslides
Snowballs                                                                           In N Out
"The Wire" and "Veep"                                                     All other tv shows that aren't "The Wire" and
                                                                                                    "Veep"                                                                                                                     
Otterbein's Cookies                                                           Yogurtland/Menchie's
Preakness                                                                            The Hollywood Bowl
Berger Cookies                                                                   The Grove (aka the hot sauce store)
Natty Boh                                                                            Universal Studios
UTZ (Crab Chips)                                                               Disneyland
Dunkin' Donuts                                                                 Rodeo Drive and other places with expensive  
                                                                                                        things that I can't afford

Multi Colored Rings AKA Olympics

As the Olympics come to a close, I'd like to reflect on the wonderment the past two weeks have provided.

First, I refuse to watch any of this NBC primetime recap. I'm watching it live or not at all. So I watched at work a lot, having Matilda give me play by plays when I was in a meeting, and doing the same for her when needed (more on this later). One night I tried to watch gymnastics (delayed) on NBC and couldn't stop laughing at the broadcasters, so I stopped watching.

I may not be a gymnastics genius (it's not called gymnicetics!) but I know what a clean landing/dismount/standing up thing looks like. So, US commentators, when you say "oh boy, that was not a good landing. That double hop there..." reminds me that you too are average and should not be relaying information on a sport you've clearly never watched or participated in. I'd be more interested if you explained why that "flippy spin split" thing was not perfect. But my guess is you don't know why.

Also, Gabby Douglas, your hair is fine. I don't know what the big deal is. 

As far as swimming. Hello, boys. Hello, girls, too - but not in the same tone of "hello, boys". Anyway. Ryan Lochte, I hope your mother was confused about the meaning of "one night stand" when she used it in interviews. And of course your shirt is off in this pic. Nathan Adrian, Matilda wants your hot bod. Although this picture here looks like a mugshot. What were you arrested for? Huh? Huh? Michael Phelps, you are from Baltimore, you're a great swimmer, and you clearly don't prepare for photo days. I'd like to see your high school yearbook pics. 

you're so awesome. you make me feel so...not awesome.

Soccer. I don't really watch it, but Matilda loves it the way I love baseball, so I don't judge. She had to pop into a meeting while the US was playing Canada in the semis and despite my non-existent knowledge of the sport (even though I played for 10+ years growing up) I gave  her the following real-time information. (She read it after the fact, and since I don't know any players names, I don't know how helpful this was.)


US corner kick  nothing.                        another corner for US 
 
nothing again  damn canada b****es keep saying theyre hurt  one of them better be. because im sick of watching poeople lie on thge ground only to get up and play  ok she was actually hurt.  why does time still go when they are down  playing again NOOOO  almost got a goal for US    blocked again another b**** is hurt  GET UP LAZY  oh well hers might be legit  dont worry itgs only canada ok shes walking off  not okay though  WHY FDOOES TIME KEEP MOVING oh and now shes playing again  i dont get these people us has the ball  going down field  OH MAN SO CLOSE  close again us has it again  booooo ref hit it  cxanada has it  us has it  OH MTY FOSH WE ALSMOT GOT IT  bouncved off the top goal post oh s*** canada playing dirty  uh ioh ohara is down because of canada being dirty  she OK  i think there is on mionute left  i fdont understand time

I think we can all learn from this that I don't understand how the time clock works.

GO USA! GO ALL THE OTHER COUNTRIES TOO!

The Phantom Of The Fire Alarm

Ever since I was a child I've had very vivid dreams. I've also always been a very heavy sleeper. It's nearly impossible to wake me up and if you succeed, I'll greet you with some curses.  Or I'll lunge at you and chase you down the hallway. Both of those scenarios have happened. 

A few weeks ago I startled awake to the sound of the fire alarm going off. Three blasts and then it shut off. I didn't smell any smoke and no one was screaming so I decided to go back to sleep. It was a quite a shock that I woke, seeing as I've slept through many a smoke detector beeping.

In the morning I asked my roommate if he heard it. He hadn't. I thought maybe he just slept through it, so I brushed it off. Later in the day I ran into the building manager and another tenant. Upon asking them if they heard the fire alarm, one gave me a very strange look and the other asked if I had been dreaming. Apparently it was a dream. Crap.

The night after that we had a 3.8 earthquake.  For Los Angeles that's pretty low, but still enough that you'd notice it. I slept through it. 

Two nights ago (Tuesday) I was getting ready for bed when I got a frantic text about an earthquake. A 4.4 that I didn't feel. Yesterday I got to work to find there was another 4.4 quake at 9:30am while I was getting ready for work, which I also didn't feel.

Apparently I wake up to phantom fire alarms but sleep through natural disasters. Fix me. 

Brace Yourself

As a child I wanted glasses, a retainer, and braces. 

I lied on my eye exams hoping to get glasses. By the time I was 7...it had happened.

Lying about teeth problems is a little more difficult. I did, however, manage to get a bright yellow, glow in the dark retainer in fourth grade. That thing brought all the boys to the yard. In the sense that if the lights were out in the classroom I'd take out my retainer and use it as a flashlight. 

In 7th grade I got braces. Damn they looked good. Although less boys flocked to me because I was unable to guide them with my tooth-repairing-flashlight. 

I got my braces off right before high school started, but then had to wear another retainer to hold my teeth in. Because, I have dentures. Not really. I picked clear retainers. I don't know why I thought that was a good idea. I must have decided that if I was going to have mouth fun I needed to look mature. Note to self: no matter the color of your retainer, you look immature. I should've sprung for the multi-colored glitter. SHABAM. 

I still have glasses. Next time I will get glow in the dark frames to scare away all the humans, but to attract the aliens. Maybe I've been looking for the wrong type of man. Alien men, are you interested?