phone date soon!

Facebook is completely out of fucking control. Social networking isn't even 'networking' anymore. It's a forum for average people unaccustomed to attention battling for, well, attention. The latest and most annoying trend thus far is the frequent status update aimed at cultivating compliments and/or reassurance from peers. Allow me to break them into categories with examples:

The "Tell Me I'm Pretty"

Example: '...well, I guess he's just not the one for me.. should have known..'
Desired response: 'Girl, you can do way better than him! You're gorgeous and aMaZiNg!'

What it means: You've had a string of unsuccessful relationships that never last more than a few months. Upon the inevitable demise of each relationship, your gaggle of dingbat friends convince you that it's "totally not your fault", and that he is the asshole who "doesn't know what he's missing". Yes, he's definitely the one at fault. It couldn't possibly be your obsessive need for assurance and affirmation. Or the fact that you drunkenly said "I love you" nine days into the relationship. Or your inability to make a decision without consulting your mom. Or the fact that you have a copy/pasted picture of an engagement ring from Helzberg's website as the desktop background on your computer. It's his fault. He's the asshole. You go, girl.

The "Feel Sorry For Me"

Example: '...wish this could all be over...'
Desired response: 'Keep your head up girl, I'm here for you! This too shall pass!'

What it means: You are chronically incapable of handling challenges and you take every opportunity to blame others for your problems. You don't understand daily affairs that most adults handle because your parents have kept you in a constant state of blissful stupor for the last 23 years. If asked at gunpoint which company carries your car insurance policy, you would just shout out a color or a celebrity. "Car insurance?! Umm... Kim Kardashian!" Get a fucking grip and stop forcing innocent Facebook friends to have a front row seat to your incompetence.

The "Ambiguous Reference to Ex-Boyfriend"

Example: '...guess some people will never change..'
Desired response: 'Your right about that! Remember, everything happens for a reason! Call me tomarrow!'

What it means: You broke up with [insert ex-boyfriend] three years ago and on occasion, you get hammered and text him in the middle of the night. Said ex-boyfriend either does not return your text or he replies with something that you don't want to hear. Then, after repeated attempts to either rekindle an old flame or pick a fight, he inevitably stops responding and you slip into a deep depression that can only be cured with pints upon pints of Ben & Jerry's and a smattering of reassuring comments from your equally vapid friends, all of which are sure to contain cliche phrases and glaring spelling errors (see example).

The "Not So Ambiguous Reference to a Feud Among Friends"

Example: '...some people are SO immature...'
Desired response: 'Yeah I know, some people are so stupid.. good thing your bEsTiEs will always be there for you! Phone date soon!'

What it means: You and your friends are maddeningly passive-aggressive, and whenever you have a disagreement, you publicly address the issue using cutting remarks aimed at no one person in particular. Although by now, all of your friends know the identity of your target, and will post equally bitchy comments reassuring you that you're the bigger person. Bonus points if this feud began over a guy. Double bonus points if that guy hates both of you.

The "Someone Please Ask Me What's Wrong"

Example: ' ..... '
Desired response: [anything]

What it means: You are fat.*




*Before you condemn me for being an insensitive piece of shit, think about it. It's true, right? Ha. I knew you'd agree. You're a fucking asshole.

sore thumb

I just realized I'm horribly out-of-place at LatteLand on the Plaza for many reasons:

-I feel like a hillbilly for owning a Dell and not a Mac like everyone else.

-I'm not wearing plaid. Or thick-rimmed glasses. Or skinny jeans. Or Chucks. Or a scarf. Or iPod buds.

-I've showered in the last 48 hours. Or have I?

-I'm not scrawling in a notebook taking periodic breaks to gaze woefully out the window.

-I'm 90% sure that my entire outfit was purchased--over multiple visits--from Target, rather than some ultra-hipster underground thrift store.

-I carried my computer here in my Jansport backpack from college. Insta-self-consciousness.

ugh.

Bachelorette parties almost always mean excessive drinking and total loss of dignity. Last night was one of those nights.

FUCK.

T.M.F.I.

Dear New Moms of Facebook,

Congratulations on your new baby! He is absolutely adorable! You and your family must be so proud of the new addition, that's so great!

It was really considerate of you to post pictures of the little guy, especially the ones taken mere seconds after his birth. I really enjoyed casually scrolling down my home page while I ate breakfast only to come across pictures of your brand new baby covered in a layer of yellow film and blood. What an angel!

The umbilical cord is much more fascinating in real life than in the movies... I'm so glad you included fourteen graphic photos of it in your album! It's definitely one of those things that should be shared among family, close friends, co-workers, and any of your nine hundred friends on a social networking website. What's inside those lumps on the cord? Is it partially digested food mixed with bile? Could you post a 'note' about it when you get a chance... we're all dying to know!

Facebook really is wonderful, isn't it? Without Facebook, we wouldn't accidentally learn what a C-section looks like, or how far apart your contractions were for the eighteen hours leading up to your delivery. Thanks, Mark Zuckerberg! Anyway, I won't keep you for too long; according to your latest status update and mobile picture upload, your veiny unattractive breasts are engorged with milk and it's time to feed the little one! Yay!

Be sure to keep all of us posted on your baby's feeding schedule, frequency of bowel movements, and the rest of life's little moments that make being a new mom so special.

Thanks again moms!

Sarah

Parents: (Bleep) you

According to Yahoo! news, a new sitcom starring William Shatner is already under fire from whiny piss-ant parents, and it hasn't even aired yet. The title of the show is "(Bleep) My Dad Says" and a series of symbols implying an expletive is used in lieu of Bleep. Something like this: @$#*&. Scared shitless for the future of America's delicate youth? Some people are...

The Parents Television Council has apparently sent letters to 340 companies who advertise on CBS demanding to pull ad dollars until the show's title is changed. This "council" consists of parents with a common goal of protecting their precious children from the horrors of television media, and also to ensure that their children have no friends and remain virgins until they're forty.

Okay. I don't have any children, clearly. But if I did, I can think of about ninety other things I'd be worried about over the fucking TITLE of a television show that isn't even an actual word, just a bunch of punctuation. Is it just me, or are today's parents creating a generation of spineless, passive aggressive, overmedicated, overstimulated, overindulged children who are going to ruin this country? I wasn't a kid that long ago, in the grand scheme of things, but so much has changed for kids now and I'm literally terrified of the future. Today's kid has the following things at his/her disposal:

• Television with hundreds of channels in their bedrooms
• XBox, Playstation, etc.
• Constant access to the internet
• Personal cell phones, many of which have unrestricted web access
• Medication prescribed for "ADHD", also known as "being a fucking kid"
• Partial, if not complete, control of household disposable income
• Credit cards
• Clothing designed for adults (particularly women) but sold in kids' sizes

Here is what I had when I was a kid:

• A basketball hoop without a net and an underinflated ball marked "Dustin" (previous owner before it rolled into my yard, thus becoming my property)
• Sidewalk chalk
• Chores
• A one-peice bathing suit
• An imagination
• Curfew of "when the streetlights turn on"

Here is what our parents had as kids:

• Rocks
• AM/FM radio

Here is what our grandparents had as kids:

• Jobs

It's bad enough that parents are giving their children pussified names like "Sutton" and "Braxton", but they aren't even letting them compete with other kids. Nobody keeps score in kids' sports games anymore. I'm pretty sure that actual letter grades aren't used in some schools, but replaced with what I assume is a picture of a smiley face or a puppy or a pretty flower. Parents are worried about all the wrong things, like the title of William Shatner's shitty sitcom, or whether little Trystyn will be sad if his soccer team loses.

What they should be worried about are the "idols" of tweenybopper culture like Miley Cyrus and that vapid retard from "iCarly" who is all over the radio for some reason. These people are the reason that little girls are self conscious about their bodies and the tags of their clothes and what they need to do to gain the affection of older boys. Rather than sending angry emails to CBS over the title of a show, turn off the fucking television and talk to your kid about something. Anything. Take them outside and throw a ball around or draw something in sidewalk chalk all over the driveway. Occupy twenty minutes that would otherwise be spent ingesting bullshit advertising on the Disney channel aimed at turning your kids in to mindless brand-whores.

And for fuck's sake, cut your kids' teachers some slack. Because of you, they have a harder job than you can imagine.

They're heeee-eerrrrre (creepy Poltergeist girl style)

So this is my long awaited re-entry into the blogosphere. I am technologically illiterate and thus could not figure out how to create an entirely new blog on this thing, so I'll just re-vamp my old one.

Consider everything before this post (most of it almost two years old) to be shit. I'm starting over. The purpose of these updates is to share with you all my opinions on pop culture, my immediate surroundings, Corporate America, and the like. Expect strong profanity.

To Sara, Coop, and Lori: Happy now? ;)

dude...she's like...the COOLEST person i know...

You know how everyone always says refers to someone as “the coolest person” they know? I’ve said it about a lot of people, but yesterday in class I asked myself “who really is the coolest person I know?” My answer was clear: my friend Anastasia Potter. Allow me to explain…

Anastasia “A-Train” Potter, or “Train” for short, fulfills all of my requirements that one must meet to be considered “cool.” Many people in my life meet all of these requirements, but few exceed them to the degree that she does. The following are my list of traits that comprise a “cool” person, and reasons why Train has literally set the standard by which every new person in my life will be measured:

Intelligence: Train is incredibly smart, yet miraculously she has social skills, which is a rare combination. She is informed, educated, and willing to learn about anything, and I wish more people shared her desire to become all of those things. I can talk to her about Lil Wayne in one breath and world events in the next, and it flows naturally because she is a truly intelligent and worldly person. She appreciates words in the same way that I do and understands the importance of always expanding one’s vocabulary. You can easily tell who are blissfully unaware of their surroundings, like half of the people I know, and those who are all-too-keenly aware of them, like Train. I prefer to spend my time with those keenly aware, because I’d rather be smart and pissed than dumb and content.

Humor: I consider myself a funny person. Nothing makes me feel more alive than making people laugh, and in fact, I’d like to make a living off of it someday. That being said, I have never met someone who matches my sense of humor in such a way as Anastasia Potter. The girl is funny. Like, really fucking funny. She takes wit and sarcasm to another level, and I am absolutely serious about our plan to write a television show that will appeal to the kind of people who enjoy The Office and 30 Rock as much as we do. Train laughs with her whole soul and it permeates a room unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Not many people are capable of that…not even me, I’m afraid.

Confidence: Train absolutely embodies confidence at the most fundamental level. The best way I can describe the way she enters a room is a ‘graceful swagger’, yet nothing about her personality suggests pretention or conceit. She fully embraces her qualities as well as her flaws (I don’t see them but she insists they’re there…) and does it with respect, both for herself and those around her.

Character: I don’t know much about Train’s experience on her rugby team, but from what I can tell, she is a leader in every sense of the word. I have met several of her teammates and I can tell by the way they all interact with her that Train is respected and loved, and this comes as no surprise to me at all, because she gives herself completely to the organization as well as her teammates. I have serious trust issues with people; I make friends instantly but at the end of the day, there are few people in my life who I know I can depend on regardless of the circumstances…and that’s just fine with me. I can honestly say that I trusted Train the minute I met her, and that hasn’t changed since then. She’s just one of those people you meet and immediately conclude that you are on her side.

So for all of those reasons and more, I officially consider Anastasia “A-Train” Potter the coolest person I know. After writing this and thinking about what makes someone a cool person, I’ve decided Train is cool because she is wholly and unapologetically herself, and that’s all we can really ask for in a person. So...yeah. Love ya Train.