Dates are apparently not just a weird fruit.

Dating is a rite of passage in the life of a twentysomething.

Well, all of them, except this twentysomething.  I don't date.  I don't mean that I am adorkably clumsy on dates, and end up having an array of bad first date stories and a slew of ex-boyfriends.  No I mean that I don't ever date therefore I don't have any awkward first date stories.  I'm basically like a nun, no that's not right, they are married to Jesus.  I'm like someone that willingly spends all of their time alone.  A HERMIT! That's the word I was looking for.  I knew that if I just kept typing I would get there.

Have I tried it before?  Uhhhhh kind of?  I'll explain later.

There are a few reasons as to why I don't date, actually.  The main one is because I don't want to.  Sprinkle in a deep love of being alone, a little cynicism, disgust of doing anything in public, and a disdain for people, marriage, and children, and you got yourself a "Becca."

Everyone always asks me why I don't date, and depending on how I am feeling when I am asked, I give one of three responses. 

1. I just don't want to.  Never have.  Never will.
2. Why do you want to date?
3. Oh that's simple.  It's none of your fucking business.

All of these garner the same, trite response:  "Oh you just haven't found the right man, yet."

Wrong.

That 100% has nothing to do with my reasons for not dating.

Dating is hard.  Dating is messy.  Why add unnecessary stress to my already unnecessarily stressed life?  I like being on my own.  When it comes to dating, you have to pretend to be someone you're not.  You have to "hide your crazy" as my girlfriends put it.  Especially at the beginning.  You have to reel someone in with the fake you, so that by the time they realize who you truly are, they have put too much time and effort in, so they are stuck with you.  How romantic is that?  You also have to try and convince someone else that you have your shit together just a little bit more than they do so you seem exotic and well-adjusted, and I refuse to lie like that. Newsflash, people, I am none of those things!   I am not ashamed.  I am an abrasive, dinosaur-loving, book-obsessed whack job who hides their true self for no one. 

Not a single fucking person I have ever come into contact with is well-adjusted.  We all have issues. 

Listen, I have never been ashamed, or afraid, to be the first person to admit they don't know what they are doing with their lives.  I say it loudly.  I say it proudly.  I say it in rhyme.  All of the time.  I have a magnet on my fridge that has my name written entirely in penises for Christ's sake, so I'm not really at a point where I can be taken seriously.

See?  I wasn't kidding.

One time, I had to put together a table, and the directions were solely in Chinese, or Japanese, not quite sure of the difference.  And I ended up calling my father, telling him I lost the directions and couldn't do it on my own.  Which resulted in me eating potato chips on the couch, watching, while he cursed and fumbled with loose table legs and screws.  Hey! He likes being needed.  I am only doing him a disservice by not allowing him to help me.  I am the most selfless daughter.  You're welcome, Tom.

My point is that, I can't even convince myself that I have my shit together.   How am I supposed to convince someone else?  Why would I even want to?  The beauty of life is that no one has it figured out, why pretend just to impress someone that may not be in our lives in a day, a week, a month, or even a year?

The reason I am bringing this up is because my annoyingly beautiful roommate, whom I love to death, doesn't seem to understand why I don't date.  She's what one would call a "hopeless romantic."  She believes in fairytales.  I do too, but I believe in the raw, graphic, and dark fairytales of The Grimm Brothers and Hans Christian Anderson.   You know, the ones where the princess ends up almost as bloody as the villains, sometimes worse off.  She believes in the watered-down Disney versions.  I promise you I am not knocking Disney, at all.  I love all things Disney, it's just that in comparison, they are the G-rated movie adaptation of the R-rated book.

She keeps telling me, that I need to try and put myself out there.  So recently, I have.  For three reasons.

1. It's incredibly entertaining watching her get frustrated with me because my opening lines to men are usually puns that only myself and middle-aged dads would enjoy.
2. I'm trying to make her see that I am genuinely happy with my decision to be alone, and that not every girl grew up dreaming of being the Damsel in distress waiting for their Knight-in-Shining-Armor to rescue her.  Some girls grew up knowing that they were the Knight the whole time.
3. I plan on documenting here the embarrassing, awkward, and down right ridiculous encounters I have, and her annoying and never-ending quest to find me love.  Woof.

Stay tuned.

:)


Ps...I predict that this will only end badly.

Literally, a starving artist.

So if you have been following my life lately, you know that I started working out again for the first time in over 2 years.  What you may not have realized is that along with exercise, I have also been dieting, because why not torture myself?

Now, if you are lucky enough to have never needed to go on a diet, congratulations.  But also, get away from me.  I never want to be friends with you.  I'm sure you're great, but like, I hate you?

All the rest of you ugly nerds, come sit down and complain with me.

DIETING IS THE FUCKING WORST THING EVER!

Dieting is terrible because there are no loopholes.  There's no substitute.  You either eat healthy and lose weight, or you don't.  You can't have ice cream because it's bad for you.  There's no such thing as ice cream that's good for you, and I swear to God if you say, "What about frozen yogurt?"  I will stab you in the leg.  If frozen yogurt were like ice cream, IT WOULD BE CALLED FUCKING ICE CREAM!  When it comes to working out, instead of running a mile, you at the very least can walk 5.  Walking is easy.  I mean, I still hate it, but I would rather do that, than diet.

The hunger is constant, and I mean constant. 

I mean I think about food all of the time anyway, but your desire is heightened when you are going through withdrawal a.k.a. dieting.

ALL I WANT IS A GODDAMN CUPCAKE, BUT INSTEAD OF A CUPCAKE, I GET TO EAT KALE.  IN EVERYTHING.  KALE IS THE NEW SUPERFOOD AND IT SHOULD TAKE UP 90% OF YOUR DIET.

ENOUGH WITH THE KALE, PEOPLE!

Do you know what kale is?  What kale has always been?  A mother flipping garnish.  It has been used by restaurants for MILLENIA to beautify your plates of steak, chicken, mashed potatoes, waffles, or whatever delicious poison you have decided to ingest.  Growing up, I constantly heard, "Don't eat the kale, it's just garnish."

That is a code by which I have lived for 27 years.  Until, well, yesterday when I bought the world's largest bag at the grocery store for two bucks.  I am not exaggerating, it is bigger than my face.  It's no wonder it's always been a garnish, it's cheap enough to purchase and directly throw into the garbage without any significant effect on your budget.

Kale.  Ugh, even the word sounds disgusting.

Alas, I am trying something new here.  Not new per se, but new-adjacent.  I figured that eating Chick-fil-a four times a week, while delicious, probably isn't the best thing for you.  So why not try the opposite and be fucking miserable for the next year of my life.

MY GOD, am I ever.

I know that life is too short to be miserable, but it's also the longest thing you will ever do, so shut up inspirational Instagrammers.

It has been 8 days.

I.
Am.
So.
Hungry.

My stomach is growling, in sync, to every tap of the keyboard.

I love eating.  Obviously.  I mean, who doesn't?  I wouldn't be in the situation I'm in, if I didn't.  When you are dieting, eating isn't the same, though.  You have to eat constantly.  While normally this task would render me near catatonic with joy, I am not eating what I would love to be eating.  Ya know, cookies, pie, mashed potatoes, hot dogs, CHEESE, etc.  :::drools:::

I am eating fruits, vegetables, and plain ass chicken.  It's awful.  I literally have to measure my food.  Seriously.  I have to use measuring cups and spoons to make sure that I don't overeat.  I am constantly counting calories, out loud.  I sound like an insane person.  I have to keep a daily food diary to make sure I don't go over my allotted 1200 calories a day.  A FOOD DIARY!  I don't even keep a normal, every day diary where I write down my thoughts and feelings.  Oh.  Wait.  Yeah, that's what this blog is.  Right.  Shut up.  I'm delirious from the hunger.

I just want to cave and have a cheeseburger with a side of pizza.

Yet, with every day that passes I realize how far I have come and don't want to give up.  Willpower is a bitch.

Honestly, the worst of it all though, is having to be at work while dieting.

I work in a restaurant where I spend 100% of my shifts smelling food.  That isn't my job title, I'm not  a professional food sniffer or anything.  I don't even think that career exists.  Although, I would probably be amazing at it.  If any of you hear of this job becoming mainstream, I'm no hipster.  E-mail me the details.  Hello, new career path, here I come!

I have to serve food to people which I am unable to eat.  I watch them as they drink the alcoholic beverages that I have made for them.  I watch them eat piece of bread after piece of bread, wishing for one bite.  I have to serve platters of food knowing that, even on my break, I can't enjoy it.  I have to eat vegetables, rice, and chicken.  That's it, that's my amazing and healthy dinner.  Every. Single. Night.

Sometimes, I walk into the kitchen just to stare at the fryer, and I'm consumed with jealousy because it spends all of its time with delicious food inside of it.

Dieting makes me hate eating.  Becca loves eating.  It is her favorite thing to do, next to trivia games and judging people.  Dieting has made me hate that which I once loved.  Do any of you know what that's like?  That's like, if Jack and Rose survived and made it all the way to New York.  Then upon landing, Rose found out she was suffering from sea sickness the entire boat ride, and once on stable land, realized she actually hated Jack.  So she dumped him.  Food is my Jack, and I'll never let go.


Rebecca's Adulthood Survival Tip #11:  Eat. The. God. Damn. Cupcake. Screw. Kale.

Roof Stoof

I joined the gym today.

I have been wanting to do it for some time now, but I am lazy and never felt like actually going.

It was a terrible experience from the second I stepped in the door, until I walked out of it.

I don't mean that "ugh, I hate working out, everything sucks, and I'm dying." Those were my thoughts, the entire time, but I mean that I'm an embarrassing person.  I also have only gone to the gym by myself, twice in my entire life.  The second of which was today.  It is one of my irrational fears.  I don't know why I am so scared of it, I just am.  Shut up.  Don't judge me.

It was a rough day.

Let me start this off by saying that four years ago, with the help of my psycho best friend/trainer I worked my ass off, literally.  I worked out nearly every day, ate like a rabbit, and lost nearly 60 pounds.  It was the worst, yet most rewarding, experience of my life.  After losing that weight, I took some time off from working out because I finally didn't hate what I saw in the mirror.  I learned how to love myself, my body, and every single flaw I have ever found over the last 20 years.

The reasons I took a break are because, I genuinely hated it and truly believed that I could keep the weight off.  While the latter is mostly true, I did gain some back, and I am completely okay with it.  I look how I look, and if you don't like it, then don't look at me.  What I realized is that working out helped  me manage my anger, as well as my anxiety, so I decided to give it another go.  If I lose weight, great, if not, that's okay too.  I like who I am.  I liked who I was yesterday, and I will like who I become tomorrow.

Now, it has been over 2 years since I have stepped foot in a gym, because I HATE DOING PHYSICAL ACTIVITIES! I am not exaggerating.  Two. Whole. Years.  I chose the workout station on Pandora and it said "last played January 2014."  I am honestly not surprised in the slightest, because I genuinely hate doing things that can be construed as exercise of any kind.  Running, is the worst.  Climbing stairs, is the worst.  Laying down on the couch watching Netflix, is the best.

When I woke up today, I forced myself to put on my work out clothes.  Naturally, I searched for a long time, because they had gotten themselves shoved into the back of one of my dresser drawers somehow.  I begrudgingly waddled to my car and drove to join the gym.  The whole while thinking, "this is stupid, just get food and go home."  Had I actually eaten, today might have gone a little differently, or it wouldn't have, and I would just have been full whilst being embarrassing.

I nervously walked into the gym to find this really adorable girl at the counter wearing a shirt that said "Cute guys? I thought you said French Fries." So naturally, I knew we would become best friends.  She said hi with a smile, and I was like, "Yeah, okay, she is approachable and cute.  I can do this.  Sisterhood at its finest."

"Hi," I said, "I would like to join your wonderful gym please."  BECAUSE I'M THE MOST AWKWARD PERSON ON THE PLANET!
"Oh! That's great,"  She said as she jumped up and down in excitement, "Let me get Andrew for you. He will help you get started."
HUH!??! ANDREW?!?!? OH GOD!! A MAN! I CAN'T DO THIS! ABORT MISSION! ABORT!

Andrew walked up to the desk, looking like a Greek God: bearded, tan, and over 6 feet tall.  He was just a solid wall of sinew and muscle, and I couldn't look him in the eye.

He went over the basics of the gym and I was nervously sweating just standing there.  He then told me he had to take my picture for my membership, and at this point I was profusely sweating and panicking.  I don't do well with "professional" and "important" pictures.  I clam up.  I am basically Chandler Bing.  So, I awkwardly smiled as he took the picture.  Or at least that's what I thought he was doing.  He didn't actually take the picture until I started to walk away thinking he was done.  MY GYM PICTURE IS A BLURRY, OUT OF FOCUS SHOT OF ME SMILING WITH A CLOSED MOUTH AND WHAT APPEARS TO BE 3 CHINS!!!! I know this because I saw it pop up on the computer.  Andrew laughed and I gave up.  I grabbed my purse, wishing I was dead and said bye.

Of course, this wasn't the end of it.  Andrew had to get the last words in, "Rebecca, right?  Well, it was nice meeting you. I better see you in here again."  Of course, my response wasn't to say "Nice to meet you as well, I'm sure I'll be seeing you."  My response was to laugh like some sort of demon possessed goose.  Just a loud honk filled the gym, as I rushed to find the locker rooms.

This isn't where the embarrassment ended.  'Twas only the beginning.

I put my stuff in a locker and proceeded to the gym area.  Now, this locker room was very complex and almost maze-like.  There were twists and turns and cubby holes, and secret closets, and it was all a very daunting experience.  As I was heading into the gym, I turned into, what I thought was the hallway, and it ended up being a little cubby hole with a giant mirror.  I proceeded to slam into it because I was untangling my headphones as I walked, and also BECAUSE IT WAS A FUCKING LABYRINTH AND PROBABLY HOME TO A MINOTAUR AS WELL.  A girl in the locker room gasp and then laughed as I rushed around the corner to, what I prayed, was the exit to the gym.

I headed straight for the treadmills because it was the only thing that I recognized.  Gym equipment has drastically changed in the last four years, I can tell you that much.  I saw people hanging from ropes, and bars, and they all stared at me like I was a piece of meat. 

The first treadmill I got on, was broken.  I found that out after about a minute of pushing buttons with no result. 

The next treadmill worked just fine.  I put it on a high incline but low speed as to get my heart rate up and ease my way into it.  I had a book and my music and I was actually feeling pretty proud of myself.  After reading a few chapters in my book, I decided to set it down and run, for the first time in years.

I lowered the incline, popped up to the speed to a quick jog/low run speed (for me, not for like, normal people that work out all of the time), and proceeded to push myself.

I was in the groove, I could barely breathe, I was sweating, but I thought to myself "I remember this feeling, I hate this, but it's kind of nice."  All was well, until all of the sudden I jerked back and nearly flew off of the treadmill, because I ran too close to the bar that measures your heart rate and MY FAT ASS STOMACH DECIDED TO HIT THE EMERGENCY STOP BUTTON ON THE TREADMILL!  Everyone around me saw it happen, because I of course yelled out "Whoa" like I was trying to reign in a horse.

I almost gave up and left, but I still had 15 minutes left on my cardio time and Mama didn't raise no quitter.  I pushed myself through the embarrassment, and the stares, and finished my session.  After cleaning the machine, I went to this treadclimber thing.  Now, I have never used one, but I am not comfortable with doing any weight lifting yet, solely cardio.  I guess it is an elliptical crossed with a treadmill, and I thought "how hard could this be?"

Let me tell you, very hard.  I was on it for about a minute and a half before it made this screeching noise and stopped.

It was at that point that I said, OUT LOUD, "fuck it, I'm done for the day."

I grabbed my stuff out of the locker room, and rushed out of the gym because if I actually broke the machine, I didn't want them to catch me.  I can barely afford the membership to the gym, let alone the equipment in it.


Rebecca's Adulthood Survival Tip #10:  Working out sucks, but it doesn't have to be boring.  Have fun with it.  Cause a scene.  Also, dancing to the Cupid Shuffle on a treadmill, while very dangerous, is also incredibly fun.

Gracias

I just want to take a moment to thank everyone that spends a little bit of their time each day, or every other day, or once a week, or even once a month reading my blog.

I truly appreciate it.

Also, I apologize for my absence the last 2 weeks.  My mother came to visit me, and I took a break from blogging to make sure I could spend every free second I had with her.  Sometimes, I feel that people get too wrapped up in themselves, and comparing their lives with another on social media/ in real life that we forget what is truly important.  For me, that's my family. 

I hate that I have to remind myself to put my phone down every once in a while, that I should step away from my computer for at least an hour every day, but that is the world in which we all live.  It's annoying, sure, but I would rather have a reason to step away, than not.

Thank you again, and I hope you all continue to enjoy the random thoughts that come to my mind.


Becca.

RIP

****I should probably post a disclaimer about today's post.  I am writing from a place of sorrow and confusion today, so it may not have my normal amount of sarcasm and sass.  That being said, if you feel like reading, go on ahead, if you don't want to be bothered with any serious thought, I totally get it and I forgive you.



Today is a hard day for me, as it usually is when I hear news of someone's passing.

I am not like most people I know.  When celebrities die, a part of me dies.  Especially if I connected with them at some point in my life.  Now I don't mean that I met them and we were the best of friends, I mean that their work touched me and became a part of my life in some way.

I just heard the news that Prince died about an hour ago.  Purple Rain! I mean I am devastated.  I have honestly been crying this whole time.  There was a brief moment where I just stared at the wall, thinking that this was yet another celebrity hoax.  Unfortunately, the world wasn't that lucky.

I loved that man.  I remember hearing "When Doves Cry" for the first time and just crying at the beauty of his voice.  Him singing was so magical to me.  He could go from the lowest note in his register all the way to the highest note, hitting every. single. note. on the way up like it was a skill that every person on the planet has.  He was beautiful and amazing and I will miss him.  I'm listening to that first song of his I ever heard, right now, sob-singing and typing through blurred vision.

My entire life, I have always been too attached to celebrities and/or fictional characters.  (Please see post about Leo I did a few months ago, if you need a reference)  My argument is, how can you not be?  Did you not grow up watching their films, or hearing their songs, or reading their tales?  There is no way that I am the only person that I know who doesn't have a fond memory/ies of an actor, or a singer, or a book character/s.  There is absolutely no way!  SPOILER ALERT, but there is no way that you didn't cry in Harry Potter when Fred died, or when Snape died, or when fucking DOBBY, the sweetest house-elf to ever exist, who did wrong to no one, died.  There's just no way.  If you didn't you are a heartless monster, and I hate you.

I cannot stress enough to you all how attached I become.  I sincerely like celebrities more than I do people that are actually, physically in my life.  My poor family has had to deal with this my entire life.  The phone calls in the middle of the night of me sobbing hysterically, or the crazy amount of texts when I am spiraling out of control and refuse to leave my bed to eat, or shower, are too numerous to count.  When Frank Sinatra died, I was 7 years old.  I honestly think this is the first time I realized how much music and film influenced me.  I grew up listening to his music because of my parents, I even began thinking he was my grandfather at one point in my life.  I'm not insane, you see, my grandpa died when I was really young and I only have a handful of memories of Old Hank,  Grandpa Sinatra was always there whenever I needed him.  If I was sad, I'd pop in one of his CDs,  if I was really happy, I would do the same.  His music was a constant in my life, no matter how I felt.  I have since learned that he wasn't actually my grandfather, but I still feel connected to him as if he were.

There have been instances where, when a celebrity passes away that I shut the world out.  When I found out Heath Ledger died, I was at work.  I looked up at the TV to the news, fell to the ground, and started sobbing.  I grabbed my stuff and left work.  I didn't tell anyone, I just ran out.  I cried all night and disappeared to my room for a couple of days.  I still cannot watch any of his movies.  It's been 8 years and it still hurts.  I haven't even seen "The Dark Knight," because I'm still sad.  I know, I know, it's his best work.  That's what people have been telling me for years, but I just cannot watch it yet, okay?!

Losing people is never easy, and again, I KNOW I DIDN'T KNOW THEM PERSONALLY, but I knew their art.  Robin Williams, Phillip Seymour Hoffman, David Bowie, Prince, Alan Rickman, Maureen O'Hara, all of them in the past few years have gone.  It fucking sucks.  They were all such a big part of my life and who I am.  Their work shaped me, in some way or another, they allowed me to be my crazy, goofy, weird self and I thank all of them for it.

One day, I will be able to watch all their films, and listen to all their music without sadness consuming me.  Or maybe I won't.  Maybe I will forever be sad, who knows.  All I know is that my world was brighter for having them in it, sadness and all.

Rest In Paradise, my friends.  You shall always be missed.

A game, is, the foot.

I spent the first hour of my shift at work on Tuesday, daydreaming about quitting my job, packing up my cat and roommate, and driving across the country to start a new life.

While, yes, this is a thought I have on a weekly basis, it was also really slow that day.

Two of my friends/co-workers and I then decided to play a game of hypotheticals to distract ourselves from the negative thoughts in our heads.  For 4 hours.  It passed the time really well, and let us all get to know each other a little better.  It was a lot of fun.  So, I have decided to share with the world, what exactly it is that I, and most service workers, do with our lives.  None of this is exaggerated, I took very detailed notes.  Oh and by service workers, I mean we work in a restaurant.  We aren't prostitutes.  Well, kind of.

Feel free to try this out the next time you are bored.  Or don't, I couldn't care less.

Names have been changed to protect identities.
Ps, they chose their own code names.
Me = Me, obviously
Lestadt (L)= Man
Bloo (B) = Woman

Question 1:  If you could live the rest of your life as any celebrity, past or present, who would you choose?
Me: Uhhhhh, Tina Fey, I think.  Yeah, she's amazing. Her.
Lestadt:  Brad Pitt. No, Tupac.  I know he got shot at 26, but still.
Me: Oooooo, "Fight Club" era Brad Pitt? Yes please.
Bloo:  I would definitely be Beyoncé. Forever. No question.

Question 2: What celebrity would you sleep with?  You have to pick a man and a woman.
B: Man, Chris Brown.  The answer is always Chris Brown.  Woman, Megan Fox, she's so hot.
Me:  Leo, OBVIOUSLY, and Rihanna.
L: Rihanna.  Only Rihanna.  I am not picking a dude.
Me:  You gotta, that's how the game works!
*He didn't, we moved on.

Question 3:  Growing up, and don't act like we all didn't have one, what cartoon were you the most attracted to? 
Me:  Oh this is embarrassing! Teenage Simba, Robin Hood, like the fox version, and Peter Pan.
B:  Hmmm, grown up Simba was hot, and so manly.  Aladdin, definitely.  I was convinced I would grow up and marry him.  Hercules, too, he was gorgeous.
L:  I had a huge crush on the lady fox from Robin Hood, and Princess Jasmine.
Me: Maid Marian, good choice, but why are we so attracted to literal foxes? Also, slave Jasmine? Or all of the time Jasmine?
L: Oh God, any Jasmine.
Me:  Is it hot in here? I'm getting very warm.
B:  Girl!
L:  Hahaha, you guys are getting more excited about cartoons than you did the real people.

Question 4:  Who gave you your first sexual feelings?
Me: Raphael from the Ninja Turtles.  I legit thought he was my soul mate for a few years.
L:  I remember being in a thrift store when I was a kid and seeing an old issue of Sports Illustrated with Elle Macpherson on the cover.  She was wearing this fishnet bathing suit thing and all I could think of was, "Oh my god, tehe that's her nipple."
B: Uhhhh, let me get back to you.  (She never did, she got distracted with actual work.  I KNOW.  So, we just moved on to the next question.)

Question 5:  Pick a professional athlete to bone.
B:  Fuck, I can't choose.  There are so many I am attracted to.  I don't wanna play anymore.  My head hurts. Come back to me!
L:  Mia Hamm in her prime was hot.  There was also this Russian Track runner I saw on tv once who had a big butt, but I never learned her name.
Me:  Hmmmm, Odell Beckham, Jr. Or Doug McDermott.  Or, Andre Drummond.
L:  NO! I know mine.  Anna Kournikova.
Me//B:  We knew you'd pick her.

Question 6: If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?
L:  Tahiti.  In one of those houses that are on stilts in the water with the glass floors so you can just watch the water.
B:  The Canary Islands wearing Canary yellow diamonds.
Me:  There is this tiny village in Switzerland, at the base of the Matterhorn, I can't remember the name of it but it starts with a 'Z,' I think.  It's perfect and snowy and cozy and I just want to sit in my cottage, reading next to a fire.
B:  No, that's too cold.  Never.

Question 7:  If you were free from all punishment, what crime would you commit?
B: MURDER.  No, don't put that.  I would rob the richest bank in the world.
L: I would rob Fort Knox.
Me:  Honestly?  I would punch Donald Trump square in the fucking face.  Just beat the shit out of him.  Not kill him, though.  I want him to live the rest of his life knowing that a "lowly woman" beat the ever living piss out of him.
B:  I wouldn't want to waste mine on Trump.  I need money.  It makes my world go round baby!
L:  Becca, I know what you should do.  Break into Leo's house and install cameras so you can see him forever.
Me:  I'm no stalker.  Punch Trump.
B: I changed mine! I would murder every owner of every Major League Soccer team, take control of FIFA, and then have money forever.
Me: ....well I know never to cross you.

Question 8: If you could live in any decade, which would you choose?
Me:  Am I a man or a woman in this scenario?
L:  You're you.
Me:  So, a woman.  This one.  Definitely this one.
L:  I don't know, the "Roaring Twenties?"  That sounds nice, ladies drinking and smoking?
Me:  Don't forget the rampant sexism and inequality.  Is that what you would choose?  The twenties?
L: No, the '70s, I think.
B:  I would be a teen in the late '80s early '90s.  The hip hop era.  Where they danced like this,  ***she then proceeds to violently hump the air***  That's where I need to be.
L:  I would be at Woodstock and at Studio 54.
Me:  I honestly think I would pick the early '40s.  Wartime was eerily beautiful, don't get me wrong it was tragic and sad, but beautiful.  There's this romanticism surrounding it for me.
B:  That's only fun if you're white, and a man.
Me:  I look white, I'd be okay.  Maybe.
B: No, you have that curly, curly hair and look Puerto Rican.  I think you'd be shit out of luck.
L:  And you're Native American.
B:  Yeah you've got Indian in you.  No Bueno.  This question is not great for you and me.
Me:  CRAP DAMNIT!

Question 9:  If you were an animal, what would you be?
Me:  I hate this question, because no matter what I pick, everyone says, "No, you'd definitely be a panda."  This has been an ongoing theme in my life.
B:  No.  I wouldn't say panda, I would say like a panther or a snow leopard or something like that.  You have an attitude, but you aren't mean.
Me:  I would say an Ostrich.  A big ass bird that can't even bird.  That's me.
B:  I'd be a lion, but a male lion.  Not a girl lion.  I want the mane.  I don't want to be a girl lion!
L:  I'd be an otter.  They sure do look like they have a lot of fun those otters.

Question 10: If you had to pick between flight or invisibility, which would you pick?
Me:  Fuck! This is hard.
B:  I need time.  I need to think.  Come back to me.
L:  Flight, because if I ever wanted to be alone, I could just fly off and be like "BYE."  Plus, I have always wanted to fly.
Me:  Invisibility.  I don't know if you know this, but I do a lot of awkward things.  So, if I ever got embarrassed, I could literally disappear before your eyes.  Which, let's be honest, I have needed to do before but couldn't.  Plus, I would be the UNDENIABLE WORLD CHAMPION of Hide-and-Seek.  That's pretty fucking awesome.
L:  It would be pretty sweet to get on an elevator and fart as loud as you wanted to.  Plus, you could see everyone you wanted to naked.  Everyone on this list.
B:  I pick invisibility.  You could commit so many crimes.
Me:  What is wrong with us that we pick things solely for the acts of depravity we can commit? 


That is everything.  We only got through 10 questions because we all still had to be adults and do our work.  It isn't all bad though, we got paid to dick around all night, which is pretty awesome.  I should also probably say, that I am the one in charge every shift.  I don't know why my boss thought THAT was a good idea.

Writer's Block

I honestly have no inspiration today. 

I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO TALK ABOUT!

Normally I just sit down on my living room floor, grab my laptop, and get to writing about whatever is in my head.  No plans, just writing.  Today, there is nothing.

AB. SO. LUTE. LY. NO. THING.

I sat in front of this goddamn screen for over an hour.  Just staring. I think that I definitely caused some damage to my retinas waiting for an inspiring thought that never came.

Maybe I am tired.  I mean I did take a 2 hour angry nap today because I got extremely pissed off this afternoon.   What is an angry nap, you ask?  It is kind of like a normal nap, but you get so mad that you ended up tiring yourself out, like a toddler, so you nap away the anger.  Which didn't really help, because when my roommate woke me up so we could go to the movies, I was still angry.  I wasn't even happy about the snacks I bought at concessions.  I got nachos, and I didn't even enjoy them.  I only get excited about a few things in this life: dinosaurs, books, movies, and food.  That's it.  Am I dying?

I mean, I turned off my phone today and left it at home because I was so angry.  It was actually kind of freeing.

Maybe I'm depressed, like in a dramatic sense, not the literal sense because that is a very real and horrible mental illness and it is not something to be taken lightly. 

Maybe I have just exhausted every thought in my head and peaked the minute I started this blog.  I feel that that is impossible because I usually can't even sleep at night because I'm thinking about so many different things.  Like, the fact that when you touch anything with your tongue, you're not touching, but tasting.  HOW CRAZY IS THAT?!

Maybe my bad mood from earlier has just made me spiral out of control.  Ugh, and if I have to hear one more person say, "be happy, it isn't so bad. Someone out there has it worse than you," I will lose my fucking mind.  I get it, there are homeless people living under bridges, and there are starving children that have no idea when they will have their next meal.  SHUT UP! I get it, but that doesn't diminish the fact that I had a bad day.  No one gets to tell me how I feel about something, because it's HOW I FEEL YOU ASSHAT!

If you are reading this, please, PLEASE don't ever be that person.  No one likes that person.  It's worse than the person who is always fucking chipper at 8 am and has to tell everyone about their weekend.  Stop it, Linda.  No one cares.

I honestly am just over being an adult today.
I'll try again tomorrow.

Rebecca's Adulthood Survival Tip #9: Sometimes, you just gotta go off the grid.  Be like Ron Swanson, no phone, just you in your cabin in the woods with some whiskey.  Or, be like me and scream until you pass out and wake up in a puddle of your own drool.  Or whatever works for you.