Beasts of Burden.

I am always open to suggestions as to what to discuss on each post.  So, when my best friend said he wanted me to talk about boobs, I happily accepted the challenge.

Now, he did not specify exactly how he wanted boobs brought up.  He left that to me.  He is going to be so pissed when he reads my interpretation of his suggestion, which will please me greatly. 

Everyone, I present to you, a woman's guide to boobs.

Boobs are a right of passage for every female.  Some are small, some are large, all of them are amazing.

Sometimes.

Personally, mine annoy me about 87% of the time.  If I am not dropping food on or in between them, then they are suffocating me when I lay down.  If they aren't suffocating me, then they are getting in the way of me seeing my feet.  If they aren't obstructing my view, then they are making it nearly impossible to give someone a hug without it being awkward.  Men, you have no idea how lucky you are not to have these literal sacks of fat just resting on your chest.  Although, you do have to deal with surprise boners throughout your day.  So, we will call it a draw on this one.

I enjoy having them though, because they are personal pillows that you always have on you.  Literally.  I used to nap on them in high school instead of staying awake and learning.

The biggest drawback to having boobs, though, has to be bras.  Everything about bras is a hassle, and I mean everything.  The straps.  The lack of straps.  The underwire.  The lack of underwire.  The attempted murder by the rogue underwire.  Sports bras being the most comfortable yet the least sexy.  I could go on and on, but I think you get the point.

Oh, and don't even get me started on the minimal choices there are when it comes to purchasing one.  Cute bras are only for tiny chested women and prepubescent teens.  Which is kind of fucked up, don't you think?  I not only have the pleasure of getting old and saggy, I am also unable to find pretty bras to enjoy the short amount of time I do have with my perky friends.  I am only able to find flesh colored prison garments to hold my glorious bosom.

Women will get into physical altercations with other women over bras.  You do NOT want to be in the "intimates" section when there are 4 women and only one attractive bra bigger than an A-cup available.  It isn't a pretty sight.  Fists get thrown, rude comments about one's mother are made.  Seriously, it's rough.

Also, can we talk about how expensive they are for a second?  I do not want to have to put out a second mortgage on my home just so I can own more than 3 bras.  I mean I understand, it's precious cargo, and they should be treated with the utmost respect and care, but 50 dollars?! COME ON!  You honestly expect me to spend half my paycheck on one bra, just because it may or may not have FAKE jewels on them, or some fancy lace stitching, or be a color other than Caucasian Nude?  Are you fucking kidding me?!

Listen, I'm not asking, nor am I expecting to look like a Victoria's Secret model when I buy one, but it is no wonder they are all so damn skinny.  No one can afford to eat AND wear that lingerie. 

That's it.  That's what it's like to be a woman with breasts in today's world.  Sorry if that ruins boobs for you, men of Earth.  I just needed you to understand what women go through.

Mother knows best.

The hardest part about adulthood isn't trying to successfully date, or nailing a job interview, or making sure you get enough sleep.  It's realizing that your mother was right.  About everything.

It is god damn infuriating.

You spend years trying to prove your mother wrong.  "I'm not an idiot Ma, I know what I'm doing."  False.  You ARE an idiot and you DON'T know what you're doing.  The sooner you realize it, the better off you'll be. 

Parents are supposed to let their children fail in order for them to succeed further down the road.  My mother, however, is quite different.  She wants us to listen to her so it saves her the trouble of fixing the huge mess we are about to make by taking matters into our own hands.  I can't blame her though, my siblings and I really shouldn't be left to our own devices.  Case and point: there's a rule in our family that no one is allowed to go to Mexico without adult supervision because my mom doesn't want to have to bail us out of a Mexican prison.  She doesn't speak Spanish.  It wouldn't end well.

I am not kidding.  This is an actual rule that was made about 15 years ago and it is still very much in effect today.

The only thing that I am successfully able to do without her help is make myself food.  Even then, I still sometimes ask her what to do, because she wants to help.  I'm doing it for her sake, really, because I am a very considerate daughter.

As you get older, more and more things get added to the list of "things my mother was right about."  Things you honestly have never given a second thought to, because only moms think about them.

Admitting actually isn't the worst part of all of this, it's the smug look on her face every time you admit it.  Even telling her over the phone, you can still see her cheesy smile as every mistake you've ever made from not listening, just washes over her. 

Here is a list of things about which your mother will forever be right:

• Your laundry doesn't just magically do itself. -My mom taught my siblings and I how to do laundry at a young age so we wouldn't be helpless.  I still hate doing it, though.  Rebecca's Adulthood Survival Tip #1: When out of clean work clothes, don't wash them.  Either Febreze the hell out of them, or just head to the store and get new ones.

•  You can't have cake for dinner. -I do this all of the time.  You CAN have cake for dinner, but there are some draw backs.  One, you have to buy the cake yourself.  Which is horseshit.  Two, you of course don't buy the small cake.  You buy the one that can feed a small army because it's a better deal. (SEE MOM, I'M THRIFTY!) Three, you tell yourself you can eat that entire mammoth cake no problem.  Four, PROBLEM.  Major problem.  You get about 1/5 of the way through the cake and realize you hate yourself and have pretty much given yourself diabetes.  At this point, you are contemplating calling her and telling her about your self-inflicted tummy ache.  This is a trap.  Do NOT call her. Five, you didn't listen to me, and you called her.  Six, now comes the lecture.  "You can't eat a whole cake for dinner, Rebecca.  How many times do we have to have this conversation?"  Seven, at this point you've probably called her a dream killer or something equally as ridiculous, but you are on a very emotional sugar high and cannot be held responsible for your own actions.  Eight, you have now apologized for your sugar induced rage and offer her some cake.  Nine, she says some backhanded thing about how she's eating an adult dinner with vegetables and everything so she doesn't want cake, and it sends you into another tirade.  Ten, you realize that she is right, so you stop arguing and tell her how much you love her. 

• Your friends are shit. -Hear me out.  Now, your mom doesn't hate every person you've ever met, but she does.  Your mom can see a person and immediately know every mistake they have ever made in their life, and she judges them for it.  Of course, she won't say this to their face.  She will be as pleasant as can be, but the minute they leave, she will look at you with such disappointment on her face and say, "no, they're no good."  You of course don't listen and continue your friendships.  Mother stays silent and lies in wait.  Then the day comes when you have a fight with them, and she pounces.  "I told you they were no good.  Why don't you ever listen to me?"  You roll your eyes and get annoyed, but then you think that maybe they aren't any good for you.  And that is how you end friendships because your mom planted a time bomb in your brain and after 5-10 years of nonsense, it explodes.  So, thanks mom. (This is said with the heaviest of sarcasm.)

• Saving money isn't that hard. -This one is an absolute lie.  It should be saving money is important, but of course your mother doesn't say that.  She has to make sure that you know that there is something wrong with you because you are unable to save money.  My life motto is "You can't take it with you when you die," and I use it nearly every day to discuss my financial standings.  Probably why I own more books than I have friends in this world.  Saving money is actually really important, and it allows you to buy a $60 shower curtain AND pay your rent at the same time, which is pretty cool.  If my mom had put it in those terms when I was 18, I probably wouldn't have fought her so hard on it.  Who am I kidding, yes I would.

• You need to make a doctors appointment. -You can actually get away with not doing this one, and not even solely because you avoid making them at all and pray you don't die. Rebecca's Adulthood Survival Tip #2: Here's a real life transcript of how to successfully avoid scheduling your own doctors appointments.
• "Mom, I'm so sick.  I can't do anything.  I'm dying!"
• "You aren't dying, Rebecca. Go to the doctor if you don't feel well."
• "What? No.  I hate doctors.  I won't go."
• "Okay, then suffer, I don't care."
• "How would I even do that?  I don't know anything about anything.  Do I have insurance?"
• "Yes, we have insurance.  The insurance card is on the table, just call the doctor's office and tell them you want to schedule an appointment, then bring that card with you and it will be all taken care of."
• "WAIT! I have to not only schedule the appointment, but I also have to drive myself there?! I'm good, I'd rather die."
• At this point, my mom had hung up the phone.  She called back about 10 minutes later.
• "Your appointment is all set for this afternoon and I'll come get you."
• Hah, so easy.

• You actually have to buy your own groceries. -WHAT?! You mean my fridge won't miraculously refill itself after my roommate and I have eaten everything during a late night binge? You mean to tell me that I actually have to make a list of food I have run out of, get dressed, and drive MYSELF to the store to purchase things with MY OWN money?  Stop the ride, I want to get off.

I have only hit on a few of things here.  There will be so many more in your lifetime, I promise you.  Will it get any less annoying realizing that she was right?  Nope.  If anything it will make you want to strangle her because you know you are going to have to say those three little words, "you were right."  Every time you utter that phrase, you die a little inside.  It's okay, though, because you will be rewarded when you have kids that you can torture for decades, and that's what parenting should be all about.

Adulthood: It's for the birds.

Hello there.

My name is Becca.

Ever since I graduated from college I have been somewhat lost.  For years I honestly felt sorry for myself.  I was constantly comparing my life to those around me, more specifically those whom I didn't personally know.  Mostly, the "Kardashian, famous for no reason" types.  Is it stupid?  Of course it is!  It doesn't change the fact that it's still an easy thing to which one can fall victim.  Also, anyone who says they have never done it, is a fucking liar.  It's really hard  to see success come so easily to someone, whilst you are floundering in some meaningless office temp job and not get jealous.

I felt defeated; every single day.  I thought that each and every choice I made during my early adult years, was wrong.  I even started believing that college was a waste of time.  For the record, college was the best decision I ever made for myself.  It was expensive as shit, but I honestly wouldn't trade one second of it.  Except maybe that night we all blacked out on Four Loko's during the middle of a Western New York winter.

My attitude towards life changed when one of my old friends from high school, with whom I'd had minimal contact since, messaged me on Facebook with two words, "thank you."  Since I had not spoken to them in nearly 5 years I was quite confused.  When I asked them why they were thanking me, they responded with this:  "I have felt so alone since college ended, that I was making all the wrong decisions, and that it was just a huge mistake.  Seeing your posts every day about how lost you are, made me happy, because it made me realize that I'm not alone.  So, thank you."

I cleaned up the grammar and punctuation a bit, because I am not an animal, but you get their point.

It was in that moment, that I knew we were all fucked.  There is an entire generation of people that have no fucking clue how to grow up, and I am one of them! Hell, I might even be their Queen. We are all cursed with Peter Pan syndrome because we are so scared to fail.  If you asked any of us what we are scared of failing, we wouldn't know.  We just know we are all terrified as hell of it happening.

Based on my title, I'm sure you have worked out that I am a mess of a person, of whom my parents are quite proud.  I am currently drinking juice out of a red solo cup that I have been reusing for over a week while writing these words to you.  If that gives you any insight as to how I operate.  Am I happy? Oh yes, quite, but I am still, for lack of a better term, a mess.

I am a 20-something female who is more prepared for the Apocalypse than she is a job interview, because priorities people!  I have spent much of my life with my, as suburban parents would say, "head in the clouds."  (My parents never said this, its just a parental thing to say.  I just want that to be clear.) So the hell what.  The world needs dreamers.  The world needs kindness.  The world needs less judgment.

While I am still working on the "kindness towards everyone," and the "not judging" thing, I will forever be a dreamer.  Have been since the day I was born, and I don't plan on changing.  I am phenomenal at being completely inappropriate at the wrong times, and for never knowing how to properly react in every day situations.  Some would say I have a flair for the dramatics, I strongly disagree with this statement, but it is popular opinion amongst those closest to me.  I have accepted my "faults" and I have made it my lot in life to help others accept theirs.  Even if it is at my own expense.  I will look as stupid as I have to in order for someone else to find that light inside of themselves.

Do I know what I'm doing? Absolutely not.  Not even the slightest idea really, but that's half the fun isn't it?

I'm here to be a life boat to those who think they are drowning in their attempts at adulthood.  So, to the people who have no idea what adulthood entails, I write to you.  To the ones who enjoy shitty clichés, I write to you.  To the ones constantly bothered by numerous family members during the holidays about their career and love life, I write to you.  To the ones terrified of applying for a job across the country, I write to you.  Every choice you have made so far has been the right one, stop doubting yourself.  Adulthood is shit, and we are all just trying to survive.  Let's do it together, shall we?