From Happy Meals to Happy People

I like to keep to myself. I don’t stick my nose – or any other body part for that matter – where it is not wanted, and so far it’s been so good. I’m unabashedly un- confrontational, and if you want to pick a fight with me, you win. That’s why what I’m about to stay goes against almost everything I stand for. The only reason I am choosing to write a blog so grave in opinion is because it’s a notion with which I have been wrestling for quite some time. People who are at a disadvantage in physical attractiveness make up for it in personality, humor and charisma. Phew. Saying that was like ripping off a band-aid: you know it’s gonna sting but you still want to do it anyways.

Comedians aren’t generally the upper echelon of society’s beauty. In general (as always, exceptions do exist) they are the frumpy Joe Shmoes at the party who got heads to turn by their quick-witted comebacks and laugh inducing self-deprecation jokes. How do I know? Because I observe the hell out of everything.

There was a sex and the city episode where Miranda becomes the center of entertainment for the bachelor party when she refreshingly makes fun of herself to a room full of girlfriends and fiancées as she chronicles the miseries of SoloVille. She later tells a confused Carrie Bradshaw that the only way she avoids the pity is with the jokes.

Very few things she said after that (or before, for that matter) ever made more sense to me. Beautiful people don’t often need to cultivate humor and wit because it’s rare they’ll ever be left off the guest list in the first place. Seth Rogan, one of Hollywood’s current funnymen uses his Jewfro and spare tire to create hilarious content and maintain a high demand. He used what God gave him, and he used it wisely.

I’m really not saying that all beauties are bores and all fatties are funnies, but if you look back a few years, the latter seems to be a growing trend. John Candy, Rosie O’Donnell, Jonah Hill…I can keep going if you’ll let me. I’m just really proud of these people for not shying away from the spotlight because the heads don’t turn when they walk into a room. What’s the use of staring at a tight-lipped super model? Looks fade, sweetheart.

There, was that so bad? Tell me if I’ve become too opinionated for you. I’m giving away a freshly ripped Band-Aid as the first comment prize.

A Ticking Time Blog

How does so much time pass between thoughts? I will never understand how there are times when the minute clock slows to a sweat inducing crawl almost to the point of stopping altogether, and other times I blink and it's been 2 weeks.

One of those times is now.

I love to write, honestly - I wouldn't make that up. I haven't stopped this time for lack of content, lack of motivation, or lack of internet access. (Hey, things are best in 3s). I really truly ran out of that precious asset we love to call time.

But, as always, I did not stray for too long. I'm back now and feeling more productive than ever. I did well in my Economics class (If an A to you is doing well, but feel free to be the judge), and my job is great! As I previously mentioned, I am the resident Social Media Guru and I couldn't be having more fun.

Accounting is alright, only made better by a fellow UGA-er and my Betty White channeling teacher. Seriously, she couldn't be cuter.

So stay tuned...because where there is time, there is always a way. It's the time part that's the struggle folks, not the will.

"Count Off!"

Quick, give me your top 3 goals for the day. Top 5? 10?

Bet you kept reading. Would you like to know how I know that? Because anything that requires lists or counting off is just plain intriguing. A famous quote by Mark Twain expressed our society’s power in numbers. One hundred years later, he couldn’t be more accurate.

But why?

Why is our society so fascinated with numbers and lists? Everyone knows David Letterman’s famous Top Tens. The spoofs and spin offs are innumerable. I’m not posing the question because I think I have solved one of nature’s greatest mysteries. I’m simply curious.

With all of the ADHD and ADD diagnoses in our world today, could it be that we, in fact, are all a bit deficient in attention spans? Top 100 of anything, whether it is books, movie or songs, is about the highest well go, and even that’s a stretch. Listing 5 or 10 of anything is much more comfortable.

We looove to count. We love statistics and demographics and ratings because they provide a constant series of change. And if life weren’t dynamic, it would indeed be boring.

So quick, think of your top 3 goals for the day. And go do them. Then think of some more! And if you need a little help, I can only imagine the Google hits you would get in response.

Here today, butterfly tomorrow

So you’re standing in front of your classmates at graduation, and as you rise to receive your coveted high school diploma you look down and realize you are buck-naked. You use your hands to cover yourself up and hurriedly scamper off stage.

Of course this didn’t happen in real life, please. And no, I don’t know anyone who suffered this fate either. What I do know is that we all too often feel as stared at and targeted as a naked grad on his high school’s stage.

The reason why all of you were able to so easily to relate to the shame and embarrassment the dream situation aimed to convey was because many people become humiliated too easily. Did simply reading my opening paragraph cause you to grin and have flushed cheeks? Snap out of it!

Stop being embarrassed! Stop being afraid of the worst! You are wearing clothes right now, ill give you a minute to check it out again and make sure. We good? Thought so.

As long as you continue to keep yourself out of the naked limelight, you will go far. If you can remove that one-foot from the cliché nightmare grave, you too can free yourself of self-consciousness and become a butterfly. Fly away into the successful sky. Just don’t come back for your diploma.

She's baaaaaack

How did I get back here again, computer? I started the blog not because I thought I'm awesome and my life is great (shout out to Jessica's Daily Affirmation on Youtube) but because I had a steady stream of ideas and witticisms that I wanted to share with my eager audience. Alas, alack I revved up the old writing engine and got my creative juices flowing. 10 posts and 100+ blog views later, the well ran dry.

Looks like my followers are going to have to settle on listening to my life in its entirety. Not that the existence of a young, jewish single about Dallastown isn't fascinating in of itself. Please, who are we kidding? Dallas is the younger and less cooler but diehard wannabe version of Los Angeles, you can't deny. And I am here to utterly reap the hand-me-down benefits. So far, Summer 2010 has been 50% everything I ever wanted and 50% everything my parents ever wanted for me. It's funny the way life works isn't it?

So say hello to my daily mon-fri 9-5 routine. I will walk you through it like an LA reject working the nightshift at the Dallas Museum of Art. iPhone-turned-alarm-clock goes off at 8. I'm out the door 8:30 listening to Kidd Kraddick in the morning all the way to my Microeconomics class commencing at 9. Kidd has been on the radio for as long as i can remember and I embrace the time I can spend with him and his team of entertaining workaholics. keep doin yaw thang. I spend 3 hours with a bunch of state school kiddos who need a boost in their GPAs and opted for summer school. Hey, I never said I wasn't one of them.

Class ends. I rush to car. I come home, quick change of clothes to go from drab to fab. eat some lunch and off I go! Only to arrive at the most fabulous internship ever invented, ever. Did I say ever? I meant to. At North Texas Kids Magazine, I sit with my head boss and second in command boss-turned instaBFF (Dr. Riordan and Heidi, respectively) from 1-5 being the extra set of eyes, ears, hands, brain and the like. Don't you wish you had one of me?

Anyways, I love it and I think it loves me. June wedding planned. Stay tuned.

So there's my cooler-than-yours life. Next to come: what happens when you find love at community college? or how to let your smarter-than-you boss win on words with friends? life can be complicated, but i didn't say it wasn't fun!!

When the old look to the wise

My sissy turned 18 today. She entered the big bad world of tattoos, cigarettes, lotto tickets (I wish I may I wish I might) and fake IDs. Yeah you read that correctly. Receiving ones very own fake identification card that falsely asserts the legality of alcohol has become as commonplace as the ability for an 18-year-old boy to buy his first issue of Playboy.

I hate that I had to drop that bomb on you parents, but if your child falls between the promiscuous ages of 18 to 20yearsand11months, then I think it’s safe to say they have illegally purchased this generation’s liquid courage.

Do I think that it’s morally or ethically right, absolutely not. Do I think you need to drink to have fun? Absolutely not. Did I get my own damn fake at 18? Heck yeah I did, no one wants to sit at home with mom and pops while precollege teens are busy downing mike’s hard lemonades in their parents laundry rooms. I can smell trouble like a mix of Tide and Coors light.

Sister, be smart, make good choices, only buy lotto tickets when you feel lucky, and please, if you want to buy alcohol come to your 20-year-old sister. I look much closer to actually being 21 than you do, let’s use our heads here.

Writing to avoid reading

You ever wonder why your room is its cleanest during finals? Or why you’ve checked and responded to every email/tweet/Facebook wall post instead of studying? Or perhaps you don’t really think about it you just know that you have managed to take care of everything else in your life before having to do the one thing that’s actually looming before you.

I bet if a study were conducted, it would find that students who haven’t set foot in the gym all year average 3x a week before cracking open the books. Anything to put off the task at hand. But really, why is it that we absolutely haaate studying?

I don’t enjoy cleaning my room. I don’t particularly love to drudge through 200 items of trash on Gmail. But I do ‘em both happily, nay, daily, this time every semester. Laundry? Check. Trash? Taken out. Twice.

I would put studying on an equal level of boring with the rest of these monotonous tasks, but for some reason we students have a particular aversion to absorbing yet another stack of index cards/notes/chapter outlines/insert random study method here. We’re just hardwired this way.

Perhaps if our mothers tested us on how to do the laundry we would be begging for that extra homework assignment. Hmm.