Nothing Changes: Why It Sucks When You're Made to Feel You Can't Handle Yourself

Can someone please tell me why in 2017 we’re still going with this bullshit theory that boys can take care of themselves better than girls?

Either nothing really has changed or I hit my head somewhere and somehow got magically transported to 1920. Which would be fun except the whole part about women not being able to do anything, even thinking, without the aid of someone else.

This may not be the sole factor in my argument but I believe it’s the starting point. It’s the crux, the reason, the nucleus of an extremely annoying dilemma.

Picture this: A family consisting of at least one daughter and one son. There can be more of each, it doesn’t matter, as long as there is one boy and one girl involved. Let’s say they’re both over eighteen years old; the age in which you are legally an adult.

Just for fun, the definition of adult: “An adult is a mature, fully developed person. An adult has reached the age when they are legally responsible for their actions.” –Collins Dictionary

Therefore, by definition, an adult is a person who is legally responsible for themselves. So then why is it that an adult son can seemingly do whatever they please while the adult daughter has to pass through a written test and an obstacle course before stepping out of the front door? Could it be because society has forced the notion into our brains that men can take care of themselves? And that women, being small, naïve, and innocent, need someone to be with them at all times? Even if the person with them is, ironically, another woman? Yes, I understand the strength in numbers theory. But if someone is going to kidnap you, they’re not going to stop because your friend is with you. They’re probably going to kidnap you both.

I will admit that women are perceived as the easier targets in most people’s minds therefore making us more vulnerable in the eyes of predators. I don’t pretend to ignore the fact that women have to be more careful because of this. When it comes to sexual assault, women tend to be the victims almost ten times more than men do. I don’t ignore this either.

Women should be cognizant of that fact and take the proper precautions in keeping themselves safe. However, that does not mean never doing anything alone because there is a chance you may be assaulted. There also is a chance you may be in a car crash, a plane crash, struck by lightning, or get hit by a bus. You could also fall down the stairs, choke on a hot dog, or fall out of a tree. Going by this logic alone you could also get bit by a vampire, mauled by a werewolf, or kidnapped by a witch who wants to feed you candy and cook you in an oven. I’d wager you have more of a chance with the vampire.

I am not ignorant. I understand that assault is real and that it happens more often than it should. I could even go as far as saying it’s gotten worse as time goes on. I understand that you shouldn’t put yourself in situations that could potentially cause you harm. There is a reason you don’t walk completely alone at night in seedy areas or go down dark alleys. I will be the first person to tell you that as a woman you have to be more careful and aware. It’s the sad reality of our life.

But in no way am I saying we have to stop living our lives because of it; because of the threat of something that may or may not happen. It’s ridiculous and it’s one of the many things that has always sparked anger in me. Couple that with the implications that you don’t understand what you’re talking about when you attempt defending yourself; it’s a recipe for your (well-placed) anger.

It brings me back to the double standard that’s put upon us as women. Our brothers, male cousins, male friends, etc. seemingly have the freedom to go and do as they please. If you don’t believe that’s true than I will outright laugh in your face. No one bats an eye if a man wants to go somewhere alone whether it be to the store, out on the town, or even on a trip out of the country. There is worry, of course, but it’s the normal amount of worry. They’re sent on their way with a “be careful” and maybe a vague promise to keep in touch. Suggest the same as a woman? Be prepared to answer a million questions, defend your reason for daring to leave the house, and possibly fill out some paperwork.

Suggest it in an Italian household (or any household rooted in old world ideals? Haha. Good luck. I wish you the very best and that you come out of it with your sanity intact. You won’t, by the way.

I believe that as long as you are aware, mindful, and prepared, there is no problem. You have to be smart about what you’re doing and where you’re going, of course. You need to be able to read situations at all times. That’s just good life practice. But the point is you can’t stop living your life or not live it to the fullest. You deserve to go where you want to go and do what you want to do. Again, just don’t be an idiot. As long as you’re smart and aware, you’ll be fine.

Most people don’t see the value in doing things alone. No one wants to be alone, of course. It’s nice to share experiences with other people. Although if you are someone who enjoys being alone over being with others, then all the power to you. It’s refreshing to do some things by yourself. It’s an important life skill to learn how to exist on your own. Because if you can’t learn to be alone with yourself, how can you expect someone else to? Or so “they” say. Also, it’s pretty damn important to be independent in this world. Contrary to the belief of some people in my life, I consider myself to be quite independent. I do what I want to do and I get myself where I need to go. And if I don’t know how to do something or get somewhere, I learn. Shocker.

Sometimes you just need to breathe. I love having alone time every once in a while. I need it. I go to the movies alone sometimes, or out to store, or into the city. Sometimes you need some space, some fresh air, some time to breathe by yourself. Maybe it isn’t for everyone. Although I’d argue it should be. Learning to do things alone makes you a stronger person in the end. Depending on someone else for everything is not healthy. It also implies that if you can’t find someone to do what you want to do, you have to miss out. No thank you is the only non-explicit way I can express my anger without letting loose a stream of curses.

There is so much I want to experience on my own. I want to go on a trip or vacation. I want to live on my own for a while. I kick myself daily for not going away for college and having that experience then. I think it’s important for me to live on my own and have that experience before I get married (whenever that may happen, if ever, but please happen). As I get older, I’m realizing that I don’t particularly like the idea of moving from my parents’ house to a house with my future husband. Quite frankly, I feel like I’ve waited too long to be fully independent and now the desire to be is too strong to push down.

It boils down to my anger at being told I can’t do something or shouldn’t do something independently because it’s not safe or something may happen. I’m stubborn and it brings up a deep-seated anger that I’m all too familiar with. I also do not take too well to people giving me orders or trying to enforce their ways on me. My defensive side flares and I cannot be held accountable for what comes out of my mouth.

I think society needs to smarten up as a whole. Maybe spend time teaching your daughters how to be smart and independent. Arm them with the knowledge and preparation they need to make it in the world. Worry when it’s time to worry and worry the right amount. But don’t hold them back. It doesn’t help when you transfer all of your worry onto them and make them feel scared and unsure. It’s a horrible feeling and it’s destructive behavior. Take my advice, don’t do it. Smart, aware, knowledgeable is better than scared and dependent.

It’s time for the times to start changing. But, will they? Will you? As always, time will tell. But I remain unmoving and independent.

No, You’re Not Crazy: The Perils of Fandom Life

Okay listen, let me say this as a sort-of disclaimer—this is going to come off as a rant. In many ways it is a rant. BUT it’s also just a way for me to get all of my thoughts out on this subject. Take it any way you want, I suggest with a grain of salt, and I’ll try my best not to unload too much on you.

(Note: I realize the title is a tad dramatic but hello, this is me we’re talking about).

It goes without saying that I am one to deeply get into things. Whether it be movies, shows, or bands. I fall hard like people fall in love (wow, dramatic again) and it’s a whole head-over-heels scenario. Others call it “obsession.” So do I. Begrudgingly. I hate that word. It’s somewhat negative and implies craziness. Which, wonderful, right? (Sarcasm). But, I digress. It is what it is.

As I was saying—I fall into my “obsessions.” I’ve literally been that way since I was a kid. (Good ol’ Barney the dinosaur. Good times). If you want a list of everything I’ve gone in for, there’s a post on this blog floating around somewhere. Yes, it’s a long list. No, I don’t care if you think it’s crazy.

Which brings me to my point.

THERE IS NO CRAZY HERE.

One more time for posterity’s sake:

THERE. IS. NO. CRAZY. HERE.

THIS. IS. NOT. THE. CRAZY. YOU’RE. LOOKING. FOR.

CRAZY. HAS. NO. RELEVENCE.

Did you get that? Because it’s in caps and bolded just in case.

I know this is going to come off as nothing more than babbling and complaining (which it very well may be) but sometimes I need to get it out of my head.

Backstory in a nutshell: I’m into One Direction (as a band and as solo artists). It’s been almost a year now. (Holy shit, what the fuck?!) Obviously everyone knows this about me. Because let’s be honest, when am I ever able to keep my “obsessions” from people? If I like it, you’ll know about it. Fuck you if you don’t like it. Anyways, I’m into them and always will be. We’re talking the level of The Beatles (my #1 band forever). They’re here to stay. I have a lyric tattoo for Christ’s sake, so trust me. How fitting it is that I’m listening to one of their songs right now.

Moving on….

I hate how when you’re a certain way (AKA “obsessed” with something), people write you off as crazy. I swear sometimes it burns into my soul. I find myself constantly bouncing back and forth between “I like what I like, fuck you all” and “I’m not crazy. Why can’t I just be left alone and happy with what I like?”

Dramatic, maybe. But it’s true. I wager that it’s true for many other people. It’s almost like you’re constantly being judged for what you like. Or rather, the way in which you like it. Not a lot of people understand. Thank God for social media and online communities or else people like me would be fucked. A moment of silence for the people who went through “obsessions” before the internet. At least there’s some comfort in knowing that there are thousands, if not a million or so, people who truly understand. And I’m grateful for that. But it’s a small comfort. It would be nice for the people who know you in real life to be that understanding.

And I get it. I really, truly do. If people are not like you, they don’t understand it. And when people don’t understand, their reactions reflect as such, albeit negatively most of the time. This quote from the move Lansky (gangsters, I know) fits:

“People dislike what they do not understand.”

Well, glory hallelujah.  No shit.

My message is simple: we are not crazy. At least, not all of us. Yes, there are fans who take it way too far. Unfortunately, it is people like that who ruin it for the rest of the fandom. And when I say fandom, I mean any fandom. It’s the same across the board. Specifically, I’m writing about myself being in the One Direction fandom at the moment. Though I’ve experienced this in every fandom I’ve been in and through every “obsession” I’ve had.

When you’re “obsessed” (still fucking hate that word) you get extremely overexcited and wrapped up in it all. It becomes a big part of your life. Whether it stays in your life forever or rides itself out eventually holds no weight. When you’re in, you’re all in. It’s intoxicating and exciting and (mostly) fun to be a part of. The only thing that makes it suck is how the people around you react. People who don’t get it make you feel crazy, even if it isn’t their intention. Judgement is not always in words. It’s in eyes, facial expressions, and in jokes that seem harmless enough. But we all know that there is always a hint of truth in a lot of jokes. (“Many a true word is spoken in jest”). Of course, there are people who straight-up look down on you. People who will call you crazy and mean it. That’s even worse.

I think I’m mostly upset over the fact that I used to be able to unapologetically like things. When I was younger, I truly didn’t give a fuck and I was happily into whatever I was into. Now, it feels almost like I’m guarded most of the time. I rein it in. Though I still can’t help it when I get excited. I like to share my excitement. I’m the type of person who can’t keep excitement in, I want to tell the world. But when you’re met with uncaring stares or vague jokey comments about how crazy you are, it puts a damper on everything. You sometimes doubt your own feelings afterwards, wondering if maybe you’re wrong to feel that way. Shit, maybe you are crazy. That self-doubt makes me a mixture of sick and angry. Honestly, I know this is because of my anxiety. Hands down. It keeps me from enjoying anything fully and unapologetically. But I still hate being made to feel crazy.

I don’t think it’s too much to ask that people be happy that you’re so excited by something. I think it’s good to feel deeply about something, about anything. It means you’re alive. It may sound silly to say this in regards to movies or music but it rings true. When you feel anything with passion and exhilaration, you’re living. And shame on anyone who makes you feel wrong or doubtful about it. I love when people get excited about something they like. It makes me happy to watch them. I feel happy for them. Because I understand. And I try my hardest to show that I appreciate their excitement and be excited for them. Admittedly, I find it hard sometimes, depending on who it is. It never fails to amuse me (and slightly infuriate me) when people call you weird or crazy and then turn around and get excited over something they like. Well, then. Thanks. **insert eye-roll/sarcastic emoji here**

Allow me a small detour to rant:

Harry Styles is dropping a single/album/music video soon. (Fuck me, am I right?) I’m more than a little excited about it. Because hello, Harry Styles. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love all of the 1D boys and Louis is my number one. I’ve definitely flipped my shit over him and his solo single. But Harry’s whole thing is going to be exciting AF. I, jokingly, suggested I wanted to take off work on the day he’s releasing his music because how am I going to function?!?! Haha. But now I kind of seriously want to. So many people are, actually, as I’ve seen on Twitter. I’ve been told this is crazy. Well, allow me to illustrate how it’s not. How many people have fucked off from work because of a sports game? Or because of a concert? Or to line up for something? Or to stay home and watch movies or whatever? You get the point. The answer is a lot. So many people have done that and will do that until the end of time. Is it crazy? NO. Jesus Christ, no it isn’t. Enjoy life for Christ’s sake. My eyes threaten to roll so far back into my head, I won’t be able to bring them back. (Also no, I’m also not saying you should up and leave work just because. Not every job is flexible. But if you can afford to take the day off, then do it. Live your life. Anything, big or small, is living so go for it!!)

I may be a little salty. As you can probably tell by the excessive swearing and slightly angry under-tones. I just don’t get how being in a fandom/being into something is so crazy. Or how being excited for something is crazy. Are you hurting anyone? No. So, what’s the issue here? Nothing, that’s what. Bottom line, it’s nice to be a part of something and to feel so deeply about something. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. When you feel deeply, you care deeply and you’re open and maybe a bit more honest than most people. At least, I like to think so. Maybe it’s not a big deal in the grand scheme of things but it’s important to the individual person.

I’m only speaking for myself but I have a strong feeling that I’m not the only one who feels this way. So, if you do, here’s to you. Love what you love, get crazy excited, lose your mind, and enjoy every minute of it. There are enough problems and serious shit in the world. There’s enough darkness to actually drive you crazy. So, find something you love and run with it; feel the light.

I’m forever working on my anxiety. One day I hope to get back to where I can like things unapologetically. Though I also think guarding yourself and holding your cards close to your chest when you really like something, is a product of getting older. It’s difficult to be as carefree as we were as kids. But it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.

I hope this jumbled mess made sense. Maybe there’s even some wisdom hiding in here too.

Enjoy life, people. It’s too short to not have passion and excitement.

Also, fuck the haters. Because, fuck the haters!!

And just because I’m me, I’ll end with a lyric. And because I’m my “obsessed” self, it’s from Louis Tomlinson’s song:

“The sun goes down and it comes back up, the world it turns no matter what. If it all goes wrong, darling just hold on.” (Just Hold On—Louis Tomlinson and Steve Aoki)

~~Peace~~

My New Direction Is The Direction

Y’all knew this was coming.

Don’t worry. It’s only half-crazy obsessing and half-introspective musings on how I’ve changed, mostly because of the direction.

Strap in, children, the ride is just starting.

I guess I should begin with the tell-all statement of truth: My name is Addie and right now, I’m “obsessed” (I hate that word, as much as I use it) with One Direction.

That’s right, you read that correctly. One Direction. Having trouble believing it? I’ll wait.

*waits patiently*

Did you process it yet? All right, great, moving on—

I’m just as surprised as anyone that I got into One Direction. Not to say that they weren’t good or anything. I just never got heavily into them when they came out. I always knew who they were because honestly, who didn’t? And I liked about 6 of their songs, which I had on my iPod. “What Makes You Beautiful” was always a good jam, especially for singing in the car!! Whatever else I knew about them, I knew from my cousins who were into them at the time. (Cousins who aren't into them anymore, I'll have you know). I knew all of their names and what they looked like. And whenever they were in the news (Louis having a baby, Zayn leaving, etc.) I’d browse the articles because I was curious. But that was the extent of it. I always thought I was too old to like them. When they came out, they were so young-looking!! But like I said, I thought they were good but that was it.

And then. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand then.

**PAUSE**

A little sidenote:

During the time that One Direction was around, I was very much into my old music. The Beatles, Buddy Holly, Elvis, so on and so forth. And that type of music will always be the music of my soul, the most important music to me; ever. But that’s what I was into pretty heavily. Then there was Jersey Boys and Newsies Broadway. (All of those=life). And then, back to the oldies with The Beach Boys.
I pretty much ignored and, for lack of better term, shit on modern music. Which, by the way, most deserved it. Maybe. Anyways, what I’m trying to say, is that I was a bit (a lot) uptight and in my own world and vehemently against modern music, for the most part. There were still always songs/bands/singers I liked.

**END SIDENOTE PAUSE**

CUT TO: 2016

I felt myself getting more and more into modern music this year. There was just a good amount of music that I was liking.

Then it began.

I’ll try to keep it brief but there are no promises because this is me after all.
One day, I was bored and randomly on YouTube. I saw something for James Cordon’s Carpool Karaoke and thought, “Hey, I’ve never seen any of those videos, it's supposed to be funny. I should check it out.” So, I searched “Carpool Karaoke” and decided on the One Direction video. I realized I never really heard them speak before and was curious.

Well.

I watched it, I laughed, I enjoyed. I realized that they didn’t look like babies anymore and that their accents were definitely sexy. (Who doesn’t love British/Irish accents?) I was attracted to Harry’s beautiful long hair (best hair I’ve ever seen on a man, by the way) and loved seeing them sing. They were on hiatus by this point, I knew that. I also recognized a song (“Perfect”) from hearing it on the radio and decided I liked it.

After that, I saw two more James Cordon/One Direction videos so I watched them too. (Dodgeball and Tattoo Roulette). Loved then both!! That was the most I had ever seen of One Direction. That was that. Or so I thought.

I got “Perfect” and it became my song of the moment. I loved it and listened to it often. I listened to some of the other One Direction songs I had on my iPod. I kind of fell in love with the “Perfect” music video and watched it a couple of times. One day, I watched music videos with my sister and cousin and we ended up watching “What Makes You Beautiful” and “Perfect” and I realized just how much One Direction had changed. I also made them watch the carpool karaoke and the other two videos of them with James Cordon.

Again, I thought that was it. But I was very wrong.

To keep the rest semi-short: I got two more songs: “Best Song Ever” and “Story of My Life.” And then “No Control.” At some point before all this, I followed them on Instagram. Funnily enough, I think I already was following them on Twitter. Then I thought, maybe I should listen to more of their music. I listened to random songs on YouTube and liked them. One thing lead to another and then BAM, I got their whole discography and listened to it and I was hooked. Then I watched their music videos and a shit-ton of interviews. I got/listened to/liked Zayn’s solo album. Eventually, I watched their movie. Which I own now. I also own four out of their five albums. I, ironically, don’t have the album “Four.” And now I’m all in the fandom, loving them, being all fan-girly. I pre-ordered the magazine featuring Harry. I freaked with the rest of the world about Niall’s solo song (it’s beautiful by the way). And the uncertainty of when they’re coming back makes me nervous. (Notice how I said “when” because they will be back). I also realized that there is a huge adult fan base so I don’t feel weird. Which, I’m not because in retrospect, I’m not that much older than them. They’re all within four years of my age so why feel weird? Anyways, I’m in the fandom good and proper and not going anywhere.

Oh and yeah, I’m getting a tattoo of one of their songs tomorrow. (Don’t judge!! Or, judge and fuck off!!)

Now, before I go further, allow me this moment of pure fan-girling:

Louis is beautiful and my favorite. He is too awesome for words. And Harry, HARRY!! If you don’t love Harry Styles, then you got problems. He’s beautiful in every way. And his voice, holy shit, his voice!! And that long hair, oooooh. Which is gone now, very very sad. But he still looks amazing with his short hair. I just miss the long hair. Legit the best hair I've ever seen on a man. And of course, there's Liam (Li-YUM) and baby Niall. And yes, Zayn. Beautiful, beautiful Zayn. Yes, he left the band and yes that sucks but he's great. And his album is stellar. Much love for Zayn. I love their music videos and I watch them a lot a lot!! "Best Song Ever" and "Perfect" are my favourites. And the London Sessions were so good!! And let me tell you, I've never been so active on Twitter before. And yeah, I listen to them quite a bit. Like a lot. A lot a lot. I annoy people. And I don't care mwahaha!! And holy shit their music is great but their latest album "Made In The AM" is fucking pure gold. "If I Could Fly"? Holy. Shit. That is all. I advise everyone to listen to the album. It's beyond amazing. Love love love looooove One Direction. I'm waiting for the day to see them in concert.

And now, a little bonus rant: People don’t give One Direction nearly enough credit. They are really good. They’re not just some little boy band or fad or whatever else people think they are. People give you shit for liking them. They are extremely talented and they wrote a lot of their own stuff. They are different from any other band I’ve ever seen. They came on the scene and shattered all of the boy band “rules” so to speak. They have the biggest fan base I have ever seen and the only band I’ve seen that rivals The Beatles. And that’s saying something. Especially me saying it. They deserve more credit, pure and simple.

All right, I’m back. Now, onto the introspective/serious-like stuff:

I said before that I was all closed-minded when I was heavily into old music. Which was true. But honestly, One Direction grabbed me and pulled me into the modern world. And I have to say I like it. It's kind of nice liking someone who is so relevant and actually around. (And not, you know, dead). It's different but for once in my life, I feel like I'm in my own generation and I'm okay with it. I don't feel as disconnected. Don't get me wrong, I'll always love the oldies and The Beatles are my #1 always. But it's nice to be modern and feel like my own age.

Because of this, I feel that I've changed. The whole being modern thing, for one. But also, I don't have such a guttural aversion to modern music anymore. It's not the same as old music, that's for sure, but I'm okay with it. I've been in club settings and I find myself okay with the music and bopping along even though I won't be putting some songs on my iPod anytime soon. It's just the fact that I'm more open, more chill, more modern. And I'm okay with it. I don't feel like I'm fighting against it anymore. I've realized that it doesn't matter. While I love being the oldies girl, I'm also okay with being my own age; a millennial. Something I thought was akin to the fucking plague not too long ago. It probably sounds trite, I know, but it's how I feel.

The funny thing--my friends made fun of me for liking old music and now that I listen to more modern music, they say it's weird and not me. I guess you just can't win!! But don't fret, I still have strong opinions on some modern songs haha. And side note: I was into the modern music of the time when I was in high school so calm down, people.

Continuing with the subject of changing--I feel that I've become different. Now, maybe it's the quarter-life crisis talking but I've changed. I've lost all of my up-tightness and as much as I hate to admit it, my slight holier-than-thou attitude. I'm chill and good with whatever. I'm more girly (fucking weird, right?) and I want to go out, live it up, party, have life experiences, do it all. I'm not saying this is good but I don't mind drinking when I go out and I've had a smoke or two or seven haha. Again, not condoning smoking, I'm illustrating a point. So, yeah, it's definitely the quarter-life crisis talking but what can you do? And all of this 1D/modern music makes for a most stellar soundtrack for fun-having!!

This is probably going to sound stupid and sappy and whatever but it's true. I sincerely love being into One Direction. I am so happy that I got into them. I hate that I got into them so late, when they're on hiatus, but still, I love it. I get to witness all of their solo work which I'm excited for. And, I know, I'll get to see them reunite one day.

So there you have it. I'm very up with the One Direction love. And I wouldn't have it any other way!!

Don't F**king Call Me Cute!!

All right, listen up ‘cause shit’s about to get real.

Let me start off by saying that I’m pretty damn short. 4’10 ½ to be exact. (And yes, the half counts). I’ve also read articles where fellow short people have ranted about the feelings of anger (or white-hot rage) that the word “cute” induces. But this is my take on it.

Cute is a fine word in itself. A lot of things in this world are cute. A basket full of puppies? Cute. A red and white polka-dot dress? Cute. Louis Tomlinson? Cute. (AKA extremely sexy). But you get the point. It’s fine to describe things as cute when it fits but when it’s said with a condescending tone or even worse, when it’s preceded by “Awww”, it’s one of the most annoying things ever.

I am not cute. 

Don’t fucking call me cute!! I may be short and I may be (mostly) sweet but I’m an (almost) twenty-six year old woman (WOMAN) so please don’t refer to me as “cute” like I’m a kindergarten student. Because it makes me want to cut you and I will cut you. Or, at least, in my head I will, all the while wearing a “cute” smile on my face.

I’m not saying that I’d rather be called Queen Bad Bitch who is awesome, kicks ass, and lives life like a boss but I’m saying that I want to be called Queen Bad Bitch who is awesome, kicks ass, and lives life like a boss.

It’s not even about being short, either. Sometimes people feel the need to have a condescending attitude towards your endeavors or your hobbies or the things that you like. The list goes on. It doesn’t matter what it is. When it’s said, I can feel my blood boil and my eyes roll so far back into my head I can see my cute little brain. And then I get the overwhelming urge to choke a bitch.

I can picture it clearly—someone calls you cute so you respond with something like: “Hey fuck you, motherfucker.” And they just smile and say: “Aww that’s so cute!!” And that’s when I get arrested and go to jail for murder.

Look, if you want to compliment someone, then use the word “cute.” As long as it’s not condescending. I can’t help but laugh at the people who use it that way, though. It makes me wonder why they think they’re so great. You’re not cool so I don’t know why you are under the notion that you are or that anyone cares what you think.

Moral of this very short story? Don’t be the asshole who condescending calls someone “cute” because you look like an idiot and you’re probably going to get slapped. By me.

Though I suppose it doesn’t matter in the end. People can say what they want and they’re going to, whether you like it or not. It’s up to you to let it bother you. And remember, you can always kick someone’s ass and then pretend you didn’t do it. You’re so cute, after all. ;)

This was extremely, random, I know. It just popped into my head and I felt like writing it down. So, take it with a grain of salt!!

Quarter Life Crisis Take#2

quarterlife crisis

/ˈkwɔːtəˌlaɪf/

noun

1.

a crisis that may be experienced in one's twenties, involving anxiety over the direction and quality of one's life

Remember that time I said I was going through a quarter-life crisis just before/after turning twenty-five? (Which I was, it’s true). But then shortly after, I thought I was over it. Remember when I was sorely wrong about that?

Oh boy, was I wrong!!

I felt like I was on the verge of a giant freak-out as I approached my twenty-fifth birthday last year. I was going through a bout of high anxiety around that time as well and it felt chaotic in my head. It’s not so much the age that bothered me as it was the lack of accomplishments in my life. Which, by definition, is a quarter-life crisis. Learning about it and realizing that I wasn’t alone helped me. I understood that not everything is supposed to come together by a certain age and that there is always time to achieve your goals. Twenty-five is not the end of the world, you’re still young and have plenty of time. Once I understood that, I thought I was good. Crisis averted.

Yet here I am, almost twenty-six years old, and fully in the clutches of a quarter-life crisis. I’ve since calmed most of my career and love-related anxiety, making peace with the fact that it will happen as long as I keep trying. (I am trying, in both respects). As much as I do still have anxiety over the career/love thing, it’s something else that’s sparking the crisis.

For a good chunk of time now, I’ve had the urge to have all of these experiences I’ve never had. I look back to when I was a teenager and I can’t help but notice how boring I was. I don’t want to say I wasn’t happy or that I didn’t have great memories because I did. I just wish that I had loosened up a bit and experienced a little more. I’m disregarding the fact that as a teenager I didn’t care to do anything everyone else was doing. My friends were the same. We all went to youth group together. Which was great; that’s where we all met and cemented our friendship. I’m grateful for it as well. Still, I wish I had done more.

I have the urge to experience the party scene (which I never did), get drunk (I didn’t care to drink as a teenager and so far, it seems that I am un-drunkable—not even kidding. I can seemingly hold my liquor haha). I’ve never dated, never had a boyfriend; I have zero experience in the man area. (And don’t think that doesn’t bother me). It all sounds really stupid, I know. But it’s something I never did and now want to do. I want to let loose, live life, party, stay up all night, go wild, etc. It’s a way I’ve never been and it’s weird that I want to be now. But I’m willing to embrace it.

I also attribute my recent foray into modern music to my quarter-life crisis. There was a time when I was vehemently against modern music. I lived in the past and loved everything about the oldies. Let’s get one thing straight before I move forward—I will always love old music, first and foremost. I will always be an old soul. The Beatles will always be my number one. My roots are very ‘50s rocker/’60s hippie and that will never change. BUT—I’ve embraced modern music in a way that I haven’t before. I have even broken down and liked Justin Bieber. That’s right. You heard it here. It’s only like one song, before you all explode from shock. Still, it’s enough. I’ve gotten into so many songs from today and have (almost) no problem flipping through the modern radio stations.

Then there’s the One Direction. I’m not even touching that one right now. Yes, I love One Direction. Yes, it’s unexpected. I knew them before, liked some of their songs but now? I full-out love them, not going to lie. They’re awesome. And yes, sexy British boys, blah, blah, etc. I think they’re perfect and frankly, I can’t believe I waited so long to get into them. And in my defense, there are many adult 1D fans so all you haters, shut-up. Anyways, that’s enough of that, the One Direction love is for another time, another blog. (Louis & Harry are totally the best though….Go listen to “If I Could Fly”….Their latest album is stellar, everyone should hear it….oh, they so will be coming back….sorry, I’m done).

I keep getting the feeling that I’m finally my age. I make jokes about it but I think there’s a bit of truth to it. As much as I love being different and listening to music from the past, I like the feeling of being my age and liking people that are actually still around and alive. Let’s face it, 90% of the people I admire in music, movies, whatever, are dead. Nothing wrong with that. Like I said, that’s where my heart will always be. But it’s kinda nice to be modern.

I haven’t completely lost myself though. There are still plenty of modern songs that I strongly detest. ;)

I’ve also changed fashion-wise. Again, it sounds stupid but it’s really true. For a long time, I was on the tomboy-ish/rocker/don’t-give-a-fuck side of things. Lately (meaning over the past few years), I’ve felt myself change. I’ve embraced my feminine side. (**GASP** ME?!?!) I want to wear dresses now, heels too but my feet won’t allow it. I’ve gotten into makeup, having my nails done (they need to be done ALL the time, no joke), etc. I’ve even let go of my hate of the color pink (haha). I’ve felt myself become more girlie and I’m okay with it. There’s nothing wrong with being girlie, of course. I’ve boiled it down to this: You can look good and still kick ass. Like Buffy. Because let’s be honest, if you don’t want to be like Buffy then you just aren’t cool.

Oooh and let’s not forget about the upcoming fourth tattoo. That one will totally signify my quarter-life crisis. You’d think so too if I told you what it’s going to be. ;)

I think the fear that’s fueling this quarter-life crisis is the fear of having regrets. I don’t want to wake up one day and realize that I haven’t even lived. I don’t want to regret not having any life experiences. I’m afraid of becoming one of those people who are unsatisfied in their middle age because of all the things they didn’t do. So, that’s why I want to do these things now. I’ve been told that I’m still young (which, I am) and that I should go out and live. That’s not to say that there’s an age limit to fun and experience. I just want to start now.

I made a promise to myself that I will get the experiences I crave. Maybe it won’t be all it’s cracked up to be in my mind and maybe I’ll completely hate it but at least I’ll be able to say that I’ve done it.

BRING IT ON!!!!

Who Am I?!

Sounds philosophical but it’s not. At least I don’t think so. Anyways.

For pretty much all my life I’ve been a sort of tomboy. I don’t want to say a full-out tomboy because I don’t feel that I had the total qualities of one. I did like to dress primarily in darker colours and mostly jeans and t-shirts or pants in general. I rocked the Converse. Still do. I hated pink. No I mean, I hated pink. And you had to force me to wear dresses. Makeup was up and down for me. Sometimes I wore it, foundation and all, then I went years without wearing any or taking much care in my appearance. (I still cringe). There was that whole thing about always wanting to kick ass Power Rangers style and wanting to be all the male characters in whatever I watched. I was always teetering on the edge of tomboy-ness.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I liked my fair share of girlie things; boy bands, romance movies, a plethora of sexy actors and musicians. (See my obsessions post from way back). I dabbled in makeup and liked painting my nails and all that. Sometimes I liked getting dressed up. But for all intents and purposes, I was more tomboy. My friend always said she wanted to put me on “What Not to Wear.” (Nice, right? Haha)

Let’s not forget my whole stance on modern music. There’s a blog post on that too. I still detest 85% of modern music. But for a while, I was seemingly filled with an angry hate for modern music. This was in the beginning of my Beatles conversion. (Still the best band in the world might I add).

Moving on to the point of this word vomit.

One day, the sky opened up, a bolt of lightning flashed and hit me. It changed my insides and so then I became different. Or—not. I found myself slowly changing over time. I got back into makeup and never left. Half of the reason I wear makeup is to cover up my gross acne (don’t get me started though it’s better now) but the other half is because I like it. I think it makes me look good. I even fill out my eyebrows!! I wear makeup whenever I go out with an exception of a few places. I’ve gotten into shellac and I get my nails done every two weeks. I’m rarely without painted nails. In the summer I like to have a pedicure as well. I go to the hairdresser more frequently to have my hair dyed and styled (I got cool bangs, yo). And I like to dress a bit differently, sometimes a little more girlie. I feel that I’m taking more pride in my appearance and that I want to look all good and pretty and shit. (Well at least my sailor’s mouth is still intact).

Oh and I like pink. Kind of. I like pink. I know, it’s catastrophic. I wear pink things and sometimes paint my nails pink. My favorite lipstick is bright pink. I know. I’m shocked too.

I spent $75 at Sephora and became a beauty insider or whatever. ME. I bought Victorian-style boots that look all fancy. I chose to wear dresses now. I downloaded the Starbucks app and intend to get a gold card. I like to wear pearls. I have a fancy watch. I take a long time to get ready because I’m perfecting my makeup. I sometimes wear heels. (They still hurt me so I’m not quite there yet). I do wear flats a lot though. I know there’s more. I sometimes post selfies. And sometimes with song quotes. *GASP*

*cries* SINCE WHEN AM I A WOMAN?!?!

Oh and let’s not forget the music. Now, I have my fair share of modern songs. I always have. But I swear, this year I have downloaded so many modern songs it’s not funny. One Justin Bieber song. Just one. And then there’s the One Direction thing. Yes, I said One Direction. Some may toss around the words “new obsession” but that’s neither here nor there. I liked them when they came out. I had a few of their songs. But all of a sudden, recently, it was just BOOM. Now I’m all into them. I listened to all of their albums. (They have a lot of great stuff, by the way. I suggest checking out “If I Could Fly” because holy shit). I’ve picked a favorite. (Louis heehee, *girlie giggles* Also, forever attracted to Harry’s long hair). I also may be listening to them as I write this. (You and me got a whole lot of history….)

Let’s face it. I’m a woman. And more into modern music. (Though my ranting on how most modern music sucks is still intact. ‘50s & ‘60s music FTW!!) (And see—I’m using some modern slang. Whaaaaaaat?!)

Like I always say, I’m never just one thing. I’m a walking contradiction. (I have a poem I wrote about that lying around somewhere….) And I have also deduced that you can be tough, kick ass, and still look good doing it.

Ironically, I have a toothpick hanging from my mouth as I write this like I’m some rough cowboy type. So, the tomboy still lurks somewhere.

Of course, none of this is to be taken seriously. There’s nothing wrong with being any certain way. And liking all I mentioned doesn’t equate to being a woman. A woman is a woman and that’s it. It’s all meant to be tongue-in-cheek. I’m perfectly happy being a mix of tough (tough?! Right!!) and girlie.

Remember: you can kick-ass and still look hot doing it!! It’s called being a woman. ;)

Peace.