Heeeey Ya (I’m Just Bein’ Honest)

 

charlotte

Hey, all. It’s been a little while, but this is a post I’ve been thinking about for a couple of months. See, last year, Sarah posted a 25 Before 25 bucket list for her 25th birthday, and Jeannette has been writing about 25 life lessons leading up to her 25th birthday. Mine was this past August, and I thought about doing something similar, but I wasn’t sure what. Around the beginning of that month, a certain meme started showing up quite frequently on Imgur, one of the sites I browse when I’m bored. According to Know Your Meme, the Confession Bear allows people to post fairly anonymous confessions (linked to their user account for Reddit or Imgur, of course) “about taboo behaviors and controversial opinions that are often kept secret for fear of being ostracized.”

After seeing all of these, I figured I would go a completely different direction: 25 confessions, or 25 not-so-well-known facts about me, because I’m not ashamed of any of these, really. But, this was a lot harder than I thought it would be. I started making a list at the beginning of August, and as my birthday approached, I only had about 8 confessions. My birthday passed, and I still hadn’t written anything. I started getting busy with other stuff (new job!) and work (still my old job, too!) and I’m just now getting around to posting this. As it has been some time since my last post, I wanted to put a good effort into it, so I wrote it list + image style, like my other time-wasting site, Buzzfeed. So here they are… in the words of Usher, these are my confessions…

1. I can never spell “occasion” correctly. (I misspelled it typing up this post.)

2. I can’t ride a bike or whistle. (But you probably already knew that.)
Sadly, this also means that I cannot whistle while I twerk.

3. Charlotte and I have this Secret Single Behavior in common.char

4. I’m afraid that my hair will be completely white or grey by the time I’m 30.
I *am* Grad School Barbie. (via joannarenteria.com)

5. I don’t get the hype of Dr. Who, nor do I care enough to find out. (#sorrynotsorry)

6. I want to ride a zipline, and drive my car really fast on a closed race course, but don’t worry, that’s as far as my James Bond-esque aspirations go.

7. One of my biggest pet peeves is when people spell my name wrong… and it’s like, right there.

8. I have a hard time getting rid of “good boxes.” (It’s possibly a genetic thing. As far as I know, my Pop originated the “good box” concept.)

9. Contrary to popular opinion, I think that Godfather Part II is actually the worst of the Godfather movies. It goes 1, 3, and then 2.
Except for this part. The rest of the movie is too 70’s, but I love this scene.

10. I have this weird thing about being curious about how people decorate the inside of their homes while I’m driving by. (Definitely not in a creepy, “just for future reference” way. We’re guilty of it, too: big front window, sheer blinds, and always with the lights on. Its not my fault I can see that you watch FOX News while I’m in my car, going the speed limit.)

11.Ok, maybe not a whole pizza, but its good to have ambition and hold yourself to high standards.

12. I have a hard time taking an “adult” (and I use that term loosely) seriously when they’re wearing something with trademarked or licensed cartoon character (Disney or Looney Tunes, mostly) on it out in public.

13. Liz Lemon is my spirit animal.
Ask my mom about it sometime… if you dare.

14. I will NOT keep calm, and I’m so over those signs/posters. Same with mustaches. Don’t mustache all the things.

15. I have zero intentions of trying to “feel like a princess” on my wedding day. I’ve never asked to be coddled like a perfect princess, I’m a big girl, and I want to have a big girl, grown up day where my husband is equally as important as me, gosh darn it. (None of that, “this is your big day!” It’s his big day, too.)
However, I’m equal parts terrified and intrigued by My Big, Fat, Gypsy Wedding.

16. Growing up, there were never any babies or little kids around, so I have no idea how to interact with elementary aged kids. Now that I have friends with babies, I’m starting to understand it, but I still don’t get baby talk.

17. I have an overwhelming urge to smell all the candles in stores. Never go in Yankee Candle with me unless you’re prepared to be there for at least a half hour and to indulge me by smelling candles I like.
rage

18. You might be a bit surprised by the amount of time I spent in detention during the 5th grade. I was also sent home on the last day of 8th grade for wearing colored hair mascara (it was dark red on my dark brown hair) for our talent show. I guess you could say I’ve always had a kind of “fight the power” attitude.

19. I used to think that the negligees and fancy slips in JCPenney’s catalogs were really pretty dresses and wanted to wear one for my someday-wedding.

20. If I didn’t find a job in higher ed within two years of graduating with my master’s degree, I was planning on giving up looking for one. I was getting worried that things would get awkward with me for my friends who have been working in higher education.

21. I’m afraid no one will dance at my wedding.
Even if it’s like this, that’s ok. Please dance.

22. I won’t use a public restroom unless I absolutely have to.

23. If my feet are cold, I will more than likely bury them under you while sitting on the couch.

24. I can’t stand Seinfeld. I don’t get it’s popularity. I just don’t think its funny.

25. I get annoyed when my phone tries to autocorrect words that my sister and I have made up. Know our language already!
textAlright. There they are. Tell me something about yourself!

Nicholas Sparks is Pretty Much the Worst: My Most Unpopular Opinion as a Woman

I’ve made it no secret that I really just can’t get into reading books. I prefer to stick to my liberal-leaning music and entertainment magazines (to which I really do need to renew my subscription…) and humor books. The last two books I’ve read were Bossypants by Tina Fey (my new favorite) and William Shatner’s autobiography, Up Till Nowwhich I can’t help but read in Shatner’s voice. I also enjoy the classics, and my bookshelves are inhabited by Vonnegut, Orwell, Huxley, Vidal, Albee, and Shakespeare, to name a few. I enjoyed the Harry Potter series immensely, but beyond all of those, I can’t get into those books that young women are “supposed to” like.

As a middle schooler, I wasn’t into those coming-of-age books that were so sacred. Sure, there were the ones we had to read for class, like Island of the Blue DolphinsHatchet, and others — those were ok. Then came high school, and we started reading edgier books. Where a lot of girls went the romance route, I went down the path of the dystopian novel, and I’ve never quite looked back. (I’ve been very “fight the power” from a young age.) However, when I shared with a girl in my class that I had never read or watched A Walk to Remember, I was called un-American. Pardon me? I can see where my choice of literature could have been considered subversive at the age of 15, but by no means does my failure to take in chick lit make me an enemy of the country.

I’ve never, ever understood the appeal of Nicholas Sparks, or any other book or movie basically designed to illicit tears from the consumer. I refuse to willingly expose myself to “entertainment” that makes others cry, whether it’s inspiring or sad. That’s why I hate videos and links that others post on Facebook with comments like “literally just cried reading that” or “what a touching story!” — I avoid those at all costs. Maybe I’m just not a very emotional person, but I think I’m fairly well-adjusted person when it comes to my feelings. I know that many readers will not agree with me when I say that I think Nicholas Sparks books kinda suck. But that’s just my prerogative, and you’re also quite welcome to yours. A source I turn to daily to read well-researched, informative, and hilarious articles probably summed up my feelings about these books best:

Read some of the articles on this site… I would love nothing more than to write for them.

I’d like to think that this man survives off of the tears of groups of lady friends going to the theater to see these movies together, or women of any age reading the books with a bottomless glass of wine. I have seen a couple of the movies, and just didn’t think much of them. However, I have learned a few things from these movies:

  1. You have to hold on to someone’s face if you’re going to kiss them and mean it. (Brian will probably think I’m attacking his head.)
  2. When you cry, still try to look as beautiful as possible. (I know for a fact that I’m an ugly, ugly crier, and no one should have to see that.) 
  3. Someone always dies. (Cliché.) <– I originally had something else as my third point, but I decided it actually was too harsh of a criticism of this genre, and stands to be the only thought I’ve ever omitted on this blog.

Who wants to cry? Am I missing out on some kind of female bonding experience? It’s just not for me. Sorry if I’m offending anyone, but I won’t be upset if you don’t get my particular forms of literature. I’m not the only one who has considered how cheesy these books and movies are: check out Anna Breslaw’s Reality Index Reviews of The Vow and The Lucky One from Glamour. (Anna is probably my new girl-writer crush.) This article on Cracked also outlines another reason why I think these books are straight up crazy: remember when Noah threatened to let go of the Ferris wheel if Allie didn’t agree to go on a date with him, while she was sitting there with her current date? That’s a form of domestic abuse, my friends; in no way is threatening to kill yourself a romantic gesture.

Can I take a minute to suggest a couple of alternatives to these movies?


I’m ok with shedding a tear or two to this movie. If you don’t know, it served as an inspiration for Nora Ephron’s Sleepless in Seattle.


Perhaps the most realistic romantic comedy I’ve ever seen, and the only one I’ve been able to get my boyfriend to watch.

A lot of people have probably seen the second one, but the first film is an absolute classic. I don’t judge women who read Sparks novels, but I don’t particularly get it, and subjecting myself to sadness on purpose is just not my thing.