Should old acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind?

Something every person seems to hope for on the verge of the coming new year is change. Change is a pretty broad term to use, but when we find ourselves at the end of a decade that marks the most formidable years of our lives, it's the only word that comes to mind.

So rather than waxing existentially about change in terms of other people, I'm opting for some personal insight about what I'd like to change in 2010.

1--Fashion throwbacks to the 80s. Really, I'm quite sick of the so called "hipster" subculture that has emerged over the past three years. Leggings as pants is just as socially unacceptable now as it should have been in 1986. Neon does not look attractive on anyone. Feathered hair should be limited to Farrah Fawcett and the rest of the Charlie's Angels. And you know the only reason sane women find Michael Cera attractive is because of his certain alt indie appeal.
2--The monogamy trend. I know I'm repeating myself, but the category of single men in their early to mid twenties is shockingly non existent. How is a future trophy wife supposed to snag a beau when everyone already has a date to the 34th Annual Newport Beach Clam Bake? How is an aspiring soccer mom supposed to meet her soccer dad when all the coaches are taken? Your twenties exist for a reason--to continue where your college years left off and have a good time. In a grown up way, of course.
3--Female empowerment. Something I've been encountering during my interactions with the opposite sex is the idea that women and men are suddenly "equal." While I'd like to say this is true, I have seen too many instances of inequality in both professional and social environments. However, the idea of "female empowerment" is something that men have suddenly picked up on, and rather than abolish it, they exploit it. Since when is a date a date if a man expects you to pay for everything? Why am I expected to open my own car door and buckle my seat belt too when I'm just a weak little female? I get lost walking down the street, why do I have to drive? Give me the days of 'ole where my only expectations were a clean house and a hot meal at 5 pm. And child bearing hips.
4--Romantic comedies. This film trend has been on the rise ever since "Jerry Maguire" became a hit in '96. You know what I would like to see more of? Zombie movies. Give me a hacksaw, blood, and the undead anyday over the "You complete me" bs spilling out of Tom Cruise's mouth.

The Facebook Deletion Taboo

Maybe you did it in a fit of rage. Maybe you had one too many rum and Cokes. Maybe you were unsure what the side effects of blocking a person were. At any rate, it's safe to say that Facebook friend deletion has become the new social taboo of our generation. Not only does it signify the end of secretly stalking that person (which, by the way, both women AND men are guilty of...just ask if the title "Undie Run Album" means anything to them), but quite possibly the end of your friendship in real life. There's nothing like sitting down at your computer with your daily bowl of Cheerios in front of you, only to realize that you've been brutally deleted from someone's life. When did social networking replace actual human interaction? Why have Facebook relationships replaced those based in reality?

Facebook has become a means of legitimizing our rung on the social ladder. After all, what's more exciting about getting a new beau--the fact that you have a boyfriend, or the fact that you get to declare it to 35 million people via your relationship status? Posting photos is not just an easy way to share pictures with friends, but a prime opportunity to sell yourself to thousands of horny undergrad males just dying to show off albums of you in your underwear to their friends.

Yet again I'm being entirely hypocritical, for not only do I post obscene amounts of photos, I also committed the taboo. I deleted someone off Facebook. Admittedly this was done under the influence of alcohol, but I don't use that as an excuse, simply an explanation. However stupid and childish it may have been, I never expected the reaction that this friend deletion garnered, and it's made me think about the values we place on Facebook relationships over real ones. Does it honestly matter if we're friends on cyberspace if we're friends in real life? I didn't think so.

Ultimately, I realized I made a mistake and re added my friend, but imagine my dismay when I learned they had rejected my request! If Facebook has truly replaced the actual ties of friendship with another person, then maybe it's for the best...after all, I have 871 more people on my friends list to keep me company.

The Curious Case of the Ex Boyfriend

Everyone has them. The former prince charming, love of your life, can't-be-apart-for-more-than-30-seconds ex boyfriend. These are the men from our past-- the ones who cheated, lied, and significantly fucked us up for any and all future relationships we dare to embark upon. There are some who choose to make a clean break, severing ties on and off the internet (though I must admit, Facebook deletion is the ultimate slap in the face). However, there are a few brave souls who choose an alternate route when it comes to the infamous exes, and that is the pathethic and ever disappointing stab at post breakup friendship.

I personally happen to be one of the crazy people out there that actually believes friendship with an ex is possible. With time, however, I'm slowly coming to learn that true to Billy Crystal's word in "When Harry Met Sally," men and women cannot be friends.

There are several factors that taint male/female friendship without the added complication of a prior boyfriend/girlfriend status, but the number one reason is sex. No matter what people claim, sex is the driving force in most 18-26 year olds' lives. This is the primary reason why friendship between men and women is inevitably doomed to become tainted by either a one sided or mutual attraction between parties. In summation, sex kills friendship.

Back to the ex factor. To quote another celeb, look to songstress Whitney Houston for the ever poignant and straightforward 90s ballad, "I Will Always Love You." The title says it all. No matter how many years have passed or how many bottles of tequila have been consumed whilst cursing the day they were born, there will always been a part of you, no matter how infinitesimally small, that still loves them. And though you will date and fall in love with many others, all it takes is that one song or that one place or that one stupid scene in Love Actually with the guy and the flashcards and the "To me, you are perfect," bullshit for you to think of them.

Which brings me back to my original query--why stay friends with exes when you're basically dooming yourself to future of misery?

I'd say that within my short lifetime, I've had about 3 significant relationships with men and have maintained friendships with all of them. However, what I'm starting to realize is that one of the reasons I keep them as friends is to remind myself that once upon a time, things were wonderful and easy, and the reason these friendships don't work is because I am constantly reminded of how one-sided they have become. Once a person shifts from girlfriend to friend who's a girl, her level of importance changes. Even the term "significant other" connotates a sense of the place this person used to hold in your life. However, once a "former" is stuck in front of the term, things change.

So while I'm not about to cut ties with the men of my past, I'm not going to prolong the rut of nostalgia between us either. After all, there's a reason they didn't make it to my future.

Archaelogical Dig of Desk Drawer Circa 1997 and Beyond

Date: December 1, 2009
Time: 2:45 pm Pacific Standard Time
Place: The desk drawer of an adolescent Caucasian female, aged 11-18 years old
Artifacts found: One, "All About Me" scrapbook containing photos, memorabilia, and random insightful sentences such as, "My favorite clothes are bellbottoms and baby tees," and "The thing I like most about myself is my hair."
Two, box of rainbow pencils emblazoned with the name "JESSICA"
Three, assortment of newspaper clippings and computer printouts of strange child with glasses and a lightning bolt on his forehead wielding a wand (Note--nearby sticker proclaiming "I'm a Gryffindor" may or may not be related).
Four, collection of wallet size high school dance photos, seemingly gathered from subject's friends (Note--awkward positioning of male behind female with arms positioned around female's stomach).
Five, piece of scrap cloth with phrase, "Cheer Up Emo Kid" printed in ink on the front, possibly intended for usage on clothing.
Six, empty Trojan latex condom wrapper.
Seven, Angeles Girl Scout Council card.
Eight, typed interaction between two parties, one "geniegirl" and other "capupURass27"; selections include, "I just think yer hott" and "Well yer ass is nice."


Oh nostalgia. You're a cruel bitch.

Ode to my Onesie

There comes a time in every girl's life where she wakes up one day and realizes something is missing. "What could it be?" you might ask. Is it a new car? Is it a sparkly diamond? Is it a sweet piece of man candy by the name of Brad? No, my friends, the answer is oh so much greater than Brad--it is the onesie. Known to some as "footie pajamas," this classic sleepwear look was worn predominantly in our childhood, to the delight or disgust of others. They have graced sleepovers and Christmas cards alike, making a bold fashion statement to anyone daring to be seen with a child forced into a onesie by their parents. As the years passed and our sleep attire has become more and more scandelous with age, it's time we take back our youth with this fleecy delight.

As the onesie market is severely limited to children under the age of 14, size and color selection are imperative in executing this classy throwback to our yesteryears. Whilst perusing the children's clothing section at my local Target, I was shocked to find an overabundance of designs in the little boy's aisle. Dinosaurs, rocketships, racecars...essentially the trifecta of cool in terms of prepubescent men.

While the choice was not easy, I settled on a black design adorned with glow in the dark skulls for several reasons--
1. Skulls are badass. Naturally my goal is to look as cool as humanly possible in a onesie.
2. Guys dig chicks who glow in the dark. And naturally, my other goal is purchasing a onesie is to pick up guys.
3. It unzips down to my foot. This opens the door for endless amounts of inappropriate fun.
4. I can listen to Avril Lavigne and Sum 41 while wearing it and feel even MORE punk rock than I already am.

So friends, if you're wondering what exactly it will take to fill that gigantic hole in your life, put down the bottle of Jack Daniels and get yourself a onesie. You can thank me later.

Wear Sunscreen Part Deux

After my last post, it has come to my attention that I was being slightly hypocritical in my rash judgement of the "autopilot" group of my colleagues. Yes, it's true that I judged them for judging me, and at the same time, passed judgement on their actions as well. After a complete overuse of the "j" word, I've decided to add an addendum to my aforementioned statements about the autopilot-ers.

Since I'm such a fan of groups, I'm going to break down my categories of the class of 2009 even further, starting with the ones who know what they want to do in life. Among those people, there are two kinds--the passionate and the passionless. Let's talk in terms of romantic relationships for example. I can't count the number of couples I know who are together simply for the sake of "having a boyfriend." I don't know when having a significant other became the status quo, but take it from me, it is far less common to be a single independent 22-year old these days than to be quoting love songs in Facebook statuses and declaring their love for one another via Twitter. When asked why they stay with this person, they give a plethora of reasons, such as "What if something better never comes along?" or "I need a date to my cousin's bat mitzvah in 6 months." These are the passionless people to which I am referring to when I speak of the "autopilot" group. By basing their life decisions solely on the expectations of others, they limit themselves to becoming a stereotype of American society.

The passionate, on the other hand, may fall underneath the same broad category of knowing what they want to do in life, but differ from the passionless in the sense that they do so with conviction. In relationships, the passionate are confident, self assured, and aware that with or without their beau, they can stand on their own two feet just fine. The passionate take this same attitude into work, friendship, and life in general. The only problem I have encountered with this group is the expectation for me to be just as self assured in my decisions as they are. This mentality has been the rock in my shoe ever since I decided my life path was going to be undecided. What I dislike about this group is the type of people who feel the need to validate their decisions through judging mine. I may not be on autopilot, but I'm just as passionate about life and all there is to experience as those who know exactly where their lives are going.

Wear Sunscreen

"Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life…the most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don’t." --Baz Luhrmann

You know what they say about a woman's intuition? That's bullshit. My intuition is about as trustworthy as a bum selling homemade cookies to children on the streets. One minute I'll think I've chosen the perfect direction for myself. Job, location, everything seems to be falling into place. But then once I take a moment to step back and actually look at this so-called perfect direction, I've come to realize something--I have absolutely no idea what direction my life is going.

For the first 22 years of everyone's life, we are on autopilot. Starting with kindergarten, we are on the fast track to success up until high school graduation, where for some of us, the option to enter the real world is thrust in our faces. For the lucky few of us who reside somewhere in the category of "upper to middle class families," we don't have that choice, it's off to a four year university to take classes on subjects we have nothing but weak to mild interest in, simply to gain a sheet of paper validating the $40,000 a year our parents just shelled out.

So here's where things start to get scary--during what some people would consider to be the culmination of 17 years of education, graduation comes and goes in a blink of an eye, and all of a sudden, we are stamped with the "grown up" label and thrown flat on our asses into the real world.

Now the class of 2009 can be divided into two very simple categories: the ones who know what they want to do and the ones who don't. For the ones who do know, you can turn the autopilot switch back on, because here is the Cliffnotes version of how your life is going to go--you will find a somewhat appealing job that may or may not relate back to your college degree and inevitably, you will end up hating it, but continue to work at it because it's a lot easier to complain and do nothing than to quit and make a positive change for yourself. You will meet your future husband or wife, and find him or her somewhat appealing, but not exactly the sort spouse you had envisioned for yourself. You marry anyway. 2.5 kids, a dog, and a minivan later, and you are living the American dream. Are you happy? No. Are you successful? Not really. But hey, you've got everything you're supposed to have in life and maybe that's enough.

Going back to the categories, now we must discuss the ones who don't know what to do with their lives. Rather than hop on the bandwagon post graduation, they choose to explore their options a bit, perhaps moving back home temporarily in order to do so. For this group, anything and everything is an option, whether it be a teaching job in Istanbul or a permanent vacation in Australia. As a result of their pseudo bohemian actions, they get slammed by family and friends with colorful adjectives such as "lazy," "unmotivated," or "crazy," in some cases. But take a step back and notice for a second that the group labeling are the ones on autopilot and the group that doesn't know what they want still has the freedom to turn that switch off.

Naturally, I consider myself a member of the latter group, and as half cocked as it sounds, there are some days I look at plane flights to far off places and think, "What if I bought a ticket right now, left, and never came back?" And while I may not know where I'll go or what I'll do, I know one thing--I will never be a person who lets other people make those decisions for me. So if that means quitting my job and joining an indigenous tribe in Africa tomorrow, you can call me crazy, but I'll call you boring, because I'll know I've lived my life more fully in one day than you will for the rest of yours.

10 Reasons Why Thanksgiving is the Best Holiday of Them All

1. It provides a legitimate excuse to sit around and eat carbs all day. As if I need one *cue laugh track*
2. It prefaces Black Friday, also known as day of crazed soccer moms flocking the malls to save 1.99 on Bratz dolls and other skankafied toys for their over indulged children. Also an excellent opportunity to sit back, sip a peppermint latte, and judge random strangers as they flood Del Amo Mall.
3. Zero romantic connotations. Is it too much to ask for a simple holiday sans the lovey dovey shit we get shoved down our throats every other month of the year? November 26th is last call before Christmas, New Years, Valentine's Day, etc...so grab a beer and a turkey leg and enjoy it while it lasts.
4. Political turmoil. Nothing screams 'holiday' more than sparking a spririted debate between the Liberals and the Conservatives in the family! Lucky for me, I'm the designated black sheep of the Hooper clan and will be sporting my Obama button with pride (or disdain, in my grandmother's opinion).
5. Football. "Nuff said.
6. Crafts. As a preschool teacher, I'm well versed in the area of children's crafts, and while I do see my fair share of complicated art projects on a weekly basis, nothing says 'classic' like a good old fashioned hand turkey.
7. The endlessly entertaining political correctness battle between 'indians' and 'native Americans.' Honestly, I'm not putting a feather in my hair and sporting a paper bag vest covered in arrows and moccassins to be politically correct, I'm doing it to have a good time. And besides, I think the indians (OOO I SAID IT) could care less what we call them as long as they got their land and their culture back (too soon?)
8. The ridiculous assortment of food only consumed on this one day out of the year. Cranberry sauce for example. On what other occassion is it socially acceptable to show up at a fancy dinner party bringing only a can of red goo? Other nonsensical food items include candied yams and sweet potatoes topped with mini marshmellows. Or cornucopias. But that's just a fun word to say.
9. 3 words--Thanksgiving.TV.Specials. Macy's Parade. Charlie Brown. The classic Friends episode. The list goes on...
10...did I mention carbs?

The best thing to hold onto in life is each other

I was discussing this with my mother about a week ago, but ever since graduation, I have noticed that the list of people I miss continues to grow with age. Leaving home for college requires the elimination of the safety net you've had since birth, something that was easier said than done for me. Four years later and the tables are turned--suddenly you are forced to leave behind your college family in exchange for the return to your old one. My feelings on this are mixed; while I am happy to "return to the nest" so to speak so I can rekindle past relationships, it saddens me to leave behind my new family, one that has been there and seen me through some of the most formidable years of my life.

So on this particular afternoon, which held no special meaning or significance, I found myself peeking out of the upstairs window to catch a glimpse at the fading sunset and thinking about the people in my life that I miss. There are those from my past whom I miss, whether as a result of distance, choice, or death. And there are those from my present whom I miss, but who can say which group holds more importance? Admittedly there are those I miss more than others, but the important thing to realize is that to the ones who matter, the ones who do care, the number of miles between us is just that, a number. And as for the ones who don't care, well, I believe it was Marilyn Monroe who once said, "Do not worry about people from your past, there's a reason they didn't make it to your future." I couldn't agree with her more.

Wendy, when you are sleeping in your silly bed you might be flying about with me saying funny things to the stars

When faced with an empty blog and virtually endless amounts of topics to write about, I've decided to stick to my guns and write about what is presently on my mind--Peter Pan. After spending close to an hour attempting to create a witty yet personal title for my blog (embarrassing, I know), my thoughts drifted to my favorite childhood tale. Yes, Peter Pan was and still is a favorite of adults and children alike, for who can deny their inherent love of pirates, fairies, and adventure? But as most of us come to learn with age, life is not the fairy tale we are taught to believe from birth. Still, Peter Pan presents us with a viable alternative to growing up--why not fly away to a land where children never age and your most formidable opponent you face is a bumbling old man with a hook for a hand?

Therein lies the appeal of J.M. Barrie's timeless protagonist. Not only does Peter represent eternal youth, but also the idea that while our childhood may have ended, the adventures we imagined for ourselves don't have to.

So while I find myself faced with the usual assortment of life challenges befitting a recent college graduate, I know that no matter what happens, Neverland is still out there.