Things I find douche-tastic

So this girl that I went to undergrad with (and whom I should really just defriend, because she's super annoying and acts like an immature 15 year old (meaning immature for even a typical 15 year old)) posted some nonsense on Facebook about a Vegas weekend, followed with "YOLO", which is quite possibly the douchiest phrase ever invented. Freakin' Drake and Tyga. (I am purposely leaving out the link for the song because I don't want to encourage that crap). So I started complaining about YOLO and douchey people, and my friend, Carp*, who introduces me to all the best shit on the internet (like the hairpin), told me about this video:

Warning: NSFW, but freaking hilarious. If you're reading this at work, email it to yourself and watch it at home. You'll thank me. Also, watch "Pregnant women are smug". I wish I had a closer pregnant friend to whom I could send that video, because I don't think any of my pregnant acquaintances would appreciate it.

And I decided to write a whole post about douchey people/places/things/ideas 

-People who complain about how much time they spend on something that is totally voluntary and optional. Yes, I'm talking to you, douchey Wikipedia editor(s). STFU about the DYKs already. If you don't like it, stop doing it. 

-The new Prius commercials about the douchey people who drive Prius'. But that's kinda meta-douche, so I don't know if that really counts. 

-Academic journal articles that are presented as some sort of meta-analysis or lit review that are really just one or two authors citing the crap out of themselves in order to get their citation indices up.

-People who think The Onion is real news

-People who think that Pintrest is gospel.

-People who get too hung up on details (yes, sometimes I am douchey. Making this list also probably makes me douchey). 

-All things Ed Hardy

-Drunkenly yelling out of car windows

     -Basically everything from this song: 

      Also, I am in love with that weird skirt/pants thing they have going on. Especially the futuristic fabric. 

-Women who hover when they pee and leave pee all over the seat.
-The women who write Cosmo and who tell me that that effortless-looking Victoria's Secret hair really is effortless, and then proceed to have a multi-step article spelling out how to do it that actually involves several expensive products, a lot of effort and would take approximately an hour and a half.**

*As always, names changed to protect the innocent.
**Especially frustrating since the Boy and I recently had a conversation about how he finds me most attractive when it doesn't look like I've put any effort in. What I fail to make him grasp is how much effort it takes to make it look like I haven't made any effort. 

Relaxing, Internet Trolls, and Finishing Strong

I've been in a pretty crappy mood since Spring Break. I think the fact that I had such an awesome break is partially to blame--while I was gone, I was fully present in the moment, I got to sleep in, I got to stay up late for fun (and not because I have homework/a paper/an exam the next morning, like I've been doing a lot lately), I was with enjoyable company doing enjoyable things. And then I get back to school and hear the terrible, horrible **SQREEEEEE* of a record stopping.

I was in pretty bad shape for a while, but I think things are starting to turn around a bit. I finally got a weekend where I didn't have to do anything (well, I kinda did, but it wasn't anything super important or pressing, so I didn't do it) or have to be anywhere, which was nice, because it had been 6 weeks since I've really had a low-key weekend. Between Spring Break, Bestie's Visit, Cupcake's Bachelorette Party (and yes, that is a proper noun), Easter (which was at the Boy's family's/the Boy's brother's fiance's house, with a quick detour to the local amusement park for some roller coasters), I am traveled out and pretty exhausted, so it was nice to just relax and lay like broccoli (please, for the love of God, know where that quote is from).* The Boy and I drove out to a nearby city on Saturday to exchange a shirt, because our town is too small to warrant having a J.Crew.** On the way, we stopped at a farmer's market, where we sampled some delicious strawberries and cinnamon honey and bought some even more delicious beef jerky. We shall go back. Sunday, we ate Mexican food and watched Game of Thrones with Superman, which is where we were when we heard about our Wikipedia troll.



So for our Personality class, in lieu of a typical research paper, we have to contribute a new article to Wikipedia. I go back and forth between thinking this is a pretty awesome assignment and thinking it's actually pretty awful. Anyway, part of the assignment was submitting our articles to "Did you know?", which is a feature on Wikipedia's front page that directs you to cool new articles (supposedly. I've never used this feature before), and these submission are then evaluated by outside editors who deem you worthy or unworthy on several levels, including notability, neutral point of view (not arguing for a particular side of one issue), sounding like an encyclopedia instead of a personal reflection/essay, etc. So a bunch of us all submitted our DYKs at the same time because we had a due date, and this one editor lady totally jumped all over us. She nominated Roommate's page for deletion (way harsh and unnecessary, not to mention unwarranted) and called Advisor, the class, and our wiki ambassadors all incompetent. She is being mean and nasty and should really just get a freaking life. We do not like her. Advisor and our class ambassadors are taking care of it, but seriously, this lady needs to chill the eff out.


In other news, there is only about 2 1/2 weeks of school left. I don't know how it's possible that my first year of graduate school is almost over. I can still remember (*vividly*) getting lost the first time I was here alone and ending up sobbing in not the best part of town. I can also vividly remember being incredibly lost with Mom and being 30 minutes late for a lab meeting and being so, so tired, and so, so sick of getting lost, and the two of us having a bit of a nervous breakdown driving around in circles on campus, laughing hysterically (not in a "oh-this-is-so-funny-we're-lost-again-sitcom-type-of-hysterical, but in a "we've-completely-lost-it-and-probably-need-meds-we-sound-like-the-joker-type-of-hysterical), calling the Project Coordinator and having her tell me I just need to turn around, that the building I'm looking for is right there. I still remember the first time I met the other people from the program at trivia night. I was so nervous, and I wore a blue top. I still remember the party Roommate and I had to get to know everyone. We spilled pomegranate martinis on our beige carpet. I still remember my first day of class, where we learned Allport's definition of social psychology (which I still don't remember). I still remember my first not-a-date-date with the Boy, and the first time we had a stats party (note: not an actual party) and my first assignment and my first good grade (which was NOT on my first assignment, just FYI). I just can't believe I'm almost halfway done. I never would have imagined myself here, doing this thing, but I'm doing it. And as much as I consider quitting, I'm going to tough it out. Build character and all that. Learn things, about life, and psychology, and myself. Figure out how to be a grownup.

Anyway, it'll be a stressful couple of weeks, but then it's off to the beach for Cupcake's wedding and back to the hometown for Brother's graduation and Cupcake's hometown reception. The Boy will be joining me and gets the unique pleasure of meeting everyone in my family and most of our family friends all at once at Brother's graduation party. When I asked him if he was sure, he said "If not now, when?" He's braver than I am, but that's ok, because I'm confident that everyone will love him.  Bestie did, and I'm pretty sure she's harder to please than even Dad. Or Godfather, who is pretty impossible to impress.

I am so excited to go home. I'll get to see all of the people I love the most, go hiking in the beautiful red rocks with the Boy, eat real Mexican food (and my favorite pizza, and my favorite chicken fingers, and the froyo by my parents' house.... apparently I'm going to gain back all the weight that I still haven't finished losing for the wedding), and just enjoy my family and friends. I can't wait. I don't have a definite departure date yet (if my freaking professors would give us due dates....), but  it is definitely in less than 30 days. I can totally make it 30 days, can't I? Dad is always preaching to me about finishing strong around this time of year. The other students and I have been cursing our parents a lot lately for giving us a work ethic. We all need to dgaf a little more. Whatevs, our reward for surviving the next month is milkshakes, which I think is a pretty awesome reward.


*I super need to work on my parenthetical interruptions.

**The Boy spends way too much on his clothes, but he looks damn good in that shirt. It bring out his pretty blue eyes. Also, wearing a $4 t-shirt and $20 jeans and Old Navy flipflops in a J.Crew will make you feel like a hobo next to the girls in their obviously-real-and-not-cultured-pearls, $300 flats, and Chanel purses. True story. Also, I wish I could justify paying $80 for a cotton sundress, but I just can't. I just can't.

Boo Boo Hole

This past weekend, I was able to go home to throw a bachelorette party for my other bestie, Cupcake. It was a whirlwind and I am still exhausted. Because her sister and I (co-MOH's) both are in school in other states, she bought several bridesmaids' dresses for us to try on with the hopes that we wouldn't actually have to go shopping. These hopes were in vain. For some reason, pleating is really "in" right now. My childbearing hips do not know why this is the case. Pleats are cruel and unforgiving (although they aren't as bad as bandage skirts/dresses, which somehow make skinny girls look curvy, and heavy girls look thin, and me (slender, but curvy (read: T & A), well within the normal weight range for my height) look like a beached whale). 10 stores and ~25 dresses later, we finally found a teal-ish/aqua-ish one-shoulder number that's gauzy and beachy and cute without making me look a little pregnant.

We had a lingerie shower at her house, where we did jello shots, played games (get the dick in the hole*, among others), and opened naughty presents. Hilarity and inappropriateness ensued. When I did my shopping, I made the Boy come to the adult store with me, because while I am not terribly prude (I mean, I got her a vibrating cock ring, for goodness' sakes), there is some weird shit in those places (like the dildo that was 4 inches in diameter and if it was physically possible, would have gone up to my boobs if fully inserted, and no, it wasn't a two-way, because it had balls at the end). When I told this story, Cupcake's other friend (who was the only one who got a dirtier present than I did) laughed at me and said that she not only is willing to go by herself, she has a frequent customer card and "wanted [her] points, dammit!"

After the shower, we went to a club in the clubby part of town and danced and laughed and drank overpriced drinks and were mildly dance-raped by strangers. Cupcake was suuuuper drunk and, when shot a look of mild horror, would push the dance-raper away and yell at him for assaulting her friends. A bouncer finally had to tell her to stop it. It was hilarious and wonderful, and I am so happy for her and her fiance. I love them both dearly, and I'm glad that she is with someone who so clearly adores her. I think they'll have a long and happy life together, especially if he keeps paying the cleaning lady. Their wedding is going to be amazing, and having that light at the end of the tunnel is seriously what is going to get me through finals. Four days on the beach with friends, food, and booze? Yes, please!

*It is a relay race in which you tie a hotdog to a string around your waist so that it dangles to your knees, and then without using your hands, try to get the hotdog through the top of a milk jug. Hilarity ensues. The first team to all successfully and quickly get their dicks in the hole wins.

Best Friend Shenanigans

The Bestie was here two weekends ago. It was so lovely to see her. Three months is far too long to wait to see your best friend.

The beginning of her trip was a little rough, because she was flying standby and got bumped from the second leg of her flight, meaning I had to drive to the airport 2 hours away to pick her up instead of the smaller, regional airport 40 minutes away. It was nice, though, because we had 2 hours in the car to catch up. The Boy and our friend Superman* made us a lovely dinner of chicken sandwiches that were ready when we got there. They even waited for us, which was super nice of them, because 1) dinner was 2 hours later than I promised them it would be and 2) I also promised them that I would do most of the cooking. After dinner we went to see The Hunger Games, which was pretty good, but cut out a lot of things that I think made the movie kind of confusing if you didn't read the books. I read a review that said that the "hunger" was practically eliminated from the movie, which I thought was true. There were a lot of scenes where Katniss and/or Peeta "weren't hungry" or "done" without having eaten very much at all. Not so in the book. After the movie, we went  back to the Boy's apartment where we taught Bestie Nertz. I don't know how it's possible that we've been friends for so long and I still haven't taught her Nertz, but she kicked our butts. It was insane.**

Saturday, we went to a "darty" (read: day party) at the home of another friend. There was frisbee, day drinking***, corn hole, roof-sitting, failed drunk tests (Superman and I have the bruises to prove it), videogames, Bang!****, and being told yet again how amazing mom's my salsa is. Afterwards, we went back to the Boy's and watched Man on Fire, but Bestie and I fell asleep halfway through. Not really sure what happened, but I woke up to a very violent and confusing ending.

Sunday, we went to the mall, because we both love pretty things, even if we are poor (underwear sales! Free Clinique! How could I say no?) and I showed her the campus and we went to Superman's for dinner and Illuminati, which is a game designed to make you hate your friends. It is essentially conspiracies and backstabbing, and I took to it like a duck to water. It is a good thing that the Boy likes how competitive I am, because pretty much no one else does. It's not my most attractive feature, but he shares my dislike of people who can never seem to give a damn about anything.

I miss her dearly, and I really wish that she could come visit me every month, at least, but alas, we are both poor, and even buddy passes are expensive when you're poor. Next year, when she's done saving the LAUSD, she's gonna get a J-O-B and then maybe she can visit some more. Or, alternatively, since she is no longer saddled with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, she can get a J-O-B here and we will live happily ever after. She can fall madly in love with Superman or Captain Optimism***** and we can have adventures and it shall be lovely. Just consider it.



*As per usual, all names have been changed to protect the innocent. Which, clearly, is obvious, because I am, unfortunately, not friends with Superman. (Holy parenthetical interruptions, Batman!) Also, it should be noted that Superman originally suggested the name Clark, as in Kent, but since no one gets actual names, he shall henceforth and forever be known as Superman. Which is "what [he] really wanted, anyway."
**For those of you who don't know, Nertz is essentially multi-player solitaire. You start with a "nertz" pile of 12 cards face down, with a 13th card face up. The object of the game is to get rid of your nertz pile. Any cards left in that pile count as -2 towards your score. You cannot lay any cards on top of your nertz cards. You then deal 4 cards face up to be your "well"(? I don't know what else to call these cards), upon which you play other cards in descending order and opposite colors (for example--if you have a black 7 in your "well" you can lay a red 6 on top, just like in solitaire). Only you can play on your well cards. When you come across an ace, you play it in the center.  Everyone is able to play off of the cards in the center of the table, which are played just like the aces in solitaire--same suit, ascending order. The person who lays a king on a pile in the center turns it face down, indicating that the pile is dead. Each card played in the middle counts as +1, any cards in the "well" area are neither positive nor negative.The first person to call "Nertz" wins the round, and everyone counts their score for the round. The first person to 100 wins the game.
***Bestie and I were able to create a delicious cocktail by salvaging and combining a strawberry margarita that had too much strawberry and not enough tequila and a screwdriver with too much vodka and not enough orange juice. It tasted like summer and freedom.
****Like mafia, but harder and less fun. 
*****I did not ask him for input on his name, but it is highly fitting.