As some of you know, before Matt and I moved to Grenada so he could attend medical school, I worked as a hair stylist in the city for years.  One of the hardest things about living overseas was not being able to work.  Because jobs are scarce in Grenada, Americans are not allowed to legally work, so I was left to my own devices, which usually included me doing hair cuts in our teeny apartment for other medical students.  It actually became a pretty lucrative business, if you ask me, and I managed to keep up my skills as best I could while away for two years.

Now that I’m back in New York, New York, the city that never sleeps, the place where dreams are made…and broken, I was eager to get my groove back, and start wielding those scissors (not violently, just cutting hair) again.

New York, New York...Ain't nowhere else like it...

So, I kind of thought I was going to go back to my old routine, without skipping a beat…you know just pop back in where I left off?  But I must confess, I skipped a beat, or a few beats for that matter.

The night before my first day back at work, I couldn’t sleep.  I tossed and turned, having nightmares of over sleeping and being late for work.  When my alarm finally went off at 5:30 AM I felt like I hadn’t slept a wink.  I got out of bed like a zombie, hurried up and got ready, and managed to down a cup of coffee before Matt drove me to the train that takes me into the city for work.

While buying my ticket for the train, I fumbled, as three people impatiently waited behind me for the train that was to arrive in three minutes.  Suddenly I felt like the “out of towners” that I used to get so fed up with back when I was in my New York groove.  Back then, if someone was in front of me that didn’t know exactly what to select of the touch screen to buy their ticket, I would mumble something under my breath to hurry them along, and then grunt something like, “Tourists,” as I scoffed away, coffee in hand, scarf thrown around my neck.  P.S.  I am sorry to any of the people I did this, too.  Just know that I got pay back yesterday, and I totally deserved it.

When I got off the train, I walked up to the little coffee stand on the street, where I used to order my uj, a small coffee with vanilla coffee cream.

Look at all those delish treats...

However, much to my chagrin, the coffee man who used to know me so well, didn’t so much as blink my way.  I was really hoping for one of those custard-filled donuts that he used to so kindly give me for free back when I was a New Yorker, but yesterday I got nothin.’

When I walked into work, I immediately saw some of my peeps, and things quickly started to turn around.  It was so good to see some of my old friends, and everyone was so welcoming.  Before I knew it, I had a client, and it was time to start doing some hair.

Let me just tell you, I only had four clients yesterday, but by the time I was finished I felt like I had run a marathon (not that I would know what that feels like).  I was so absolutely exhausted, that it took me all night, and all of today to recover.  The pure exhaustion took me back to the days when I was first doing hair in New York, and how I would go home at night and just crash, sometimes still in my work clothes.

While riding the train home yesterday, I began to marvel at the stamina I used to have. Around the time I left for Grenada, I could work non-stop for nine hours, and not feel a thing.  I could work a busy Saturday, then go home and go out to dinner with Matt, watch a movie, then go shopping, etc, etc.  I was like a fine-tuned machine!  I think it’s safe to say, I wasn’t a machine yesterday.  I was more like a car that needed some jumper cables.

Despite my elderly-esque exhaustion today, I really feel like I got my groove back yesterday.  I survived my first day back to work, after not working for two whole years, and I didn’t get eaten alive.

And any real New Yorker knows that’s an accomplishment.

~The End.

Photos by elizabeth-aboutnewyork.blogspot.com and pinterest.

Oh, and I love these.

On this Valentine’s Day, it’s a little different from the last five I’ve spent with Matt.  Usually we go out to dinner, and it’s a tradition for me to bake him a heart-shaped cake.

Except this year we’re still in Texas while Matt studies at the Kaplan retreat for his Step 1 exam he’ll be taking in March.  Since we’ve been staying in a hotel, and there’s no way for me to bake this year,  I thought I’d send Matt a different kind of Valentine.

Here we go…

Dear Matt,

–>(You can listen to “Loving You” here if you want…)<–

And I just wanted to let you know that…

And I just have to tell you that…

Because…

–>(You can listen to “Teenage Dream” here if you want…)<–

You’ll always be my funny valentine…

My sweet, comic valentine…

You make me smile with my heart…

Your looks are laughable…

Unphotographable…

And…

Now you probably already know this, but…

So…

Like, forever?

Please?

All photos by pinterest.

Exactly.

Usually the first thing that crosses my mind when I wake up is something like, “What time is it?  8.  Okay, time to get up.  What am I going to eat?!??!!”  Yes, the first thing I think about when I wake up is FOOD!  In fact, I’m usually already thinking about it while I brush my teeth for bed the night before.  I’ll be brushing my teeth going, “Coffee? Yes, definitely coffee.  Cereal, maybe?  Oatmeal with bananas or oatmeal with apples and cinnamon?  Egg, perhaps?  Yeah, definitely eggs.  Eggs and coffee for sure tomorrow.”  I know it’s weird, but I’m not alone.  Recently, while turning down the covers before I bed I asked Matt, “Is it strange that right now I’m excited about what I’m going to eat tomorrow morning?”  He looked at me and said, “No, not all.  I always think about what I’m going to eat before I go to bed.”  So I asked, “Well, do you get excited about it, though?”  He considered it for a moment and then simply said, “Yeah.  I do.” C’mon, are we a match made in heaven or what?

2.)  Wait, how old am I again?

Just yesterday I was in a group of people who I thought were around my age, until the subject of age came up, and they all said they were between the ages of twenty-two and twenty-six.  I was like, “Yeah, I’m twenty-four…” and then a big mental whoop-lash came back around smacking into reality, letting me know that I am in fact twenty-nine not twenty-four.  My theory on age is that everyone has their own magic number that they never age passed.  Mine just happens to be twenty-four, but it can technically be anything depending on the person.  Does anyone else ever forget how old they are?

3.)  What will we name our first-born?

Yeah baby, don't worry, you'll get used to it...

So many options, so many options.  Usually this thought is sprung when the latest celebrity has a baby, and gives their child a completely ridiculous name…Apple anyone?  Blue?  <–Sorry Beyonce I heart you, but I don’t heart your first born’s name.  Anyway, it usually prompts me to start coming up with my own random/different names that in my fantasy world I would name our first born…you know the kinds of names that your husband would never go for?  Yeah, those kind.  The daydream always ends the same, with me settling on the names that Matt and I have already discussed fully (which I can’t disclose now), and me usually moving on to pet names instead…

4.)  WWJD (What Would Joan Rivers Do)?

Ever since I watched the Fashion Police episode when Joan blasted Christina Aguilera for wearing that completely wretched shirt she tried to pass off as a dress (awkward), and Joan said, “Looks like Lady Marmalade got into the peanut butter again,” her voice has been haunting me.

No comment.

I hear ya Joan. I hear ya.

I zip up my skinny jeans and I hear Joan in that thick New York accent say, “Oh Sarah, did you get into the peanut butta again?”  And I want to say, “Yes, Joan.  Yes, I did,” because the truth is, I have been getting into the peanut butter lately.  Guilty as charged!  But I listen to my inner Joan and sometimes change my outfit accordingly.

For those of you who have read my blog for some time, you know that I also often ask myself WWDD (What would Dolly Parton Do) for the angel on my right shoulder, and also WWLD (What Would Larry David Do) for the devil on my left shoulder.

5.)  Should I get bangs?  Like, real bangs?  Like bang, bangs?!?!

Kel, it's totally all your fault.

Not to pass the buck here, but I fully blame Kelly Clarkson, and how cute her bangs looked at the Superbowl, for my latest hair mishap.  Yes, I am a hair stylist, yes, I said I was done cutting my own hair, but I lied.  Yes, I lied to each and every one of you and you believed me, but it wasn’t over.  I cut my hair again, giving myself Kelly Clarkson bangs, which were cute in theory, but after a day I hated them (naturally), and decided they didn’t flatter my face…which technically I already knew…because I’ve had bangs numerous times.  Okay, I’m done with that painfully long run-on sentence.  Let’s just say the voice in my head telling me to do it has now been silenced, and I’m resting easy…with bangs.  Oh well.

Enough about me, and more about you…What are the odd things that cross your mind?

~The End.

Photos by http://larryfire.wordpress.com/2009/05/09/the-most-popular-baby-names-of-2008/, HelloGiggles, myfashioncents.com

I didn’t go to a regular college, I attended a musical theater conservatory for two years right out of high school, where there were lots of eccentrically awesome theater people, but no fraternities or sororities, and no clubs.  If I had gone to a university, though, I guarantee I would have never joined a sorority.  I have absolutely nothing against them, I think that they can be a great way to meet new people, but I guess I’ve always preferred to do my own thing independently.  On a side note, Legally Blonde always made me want to be part of a sorority…but that’s a different story for a different day.

These girl might make me change my mind about joining a sorority...

It’s been fun always being so independent, but what happens when a self-proclaimed non-joiner tries to, well, join something?

About six months ago I found this blog called HelloGiggles.  It’s this quirky blog, that takes all kinds of different blogs from women and puts them on their site.  The first time I laid eyes on it, I thought I had found some sort of mecca for other girls so similar to me.  It was filled with cute little stories about their collective love for Sweet Valley High books, Judy Blume, and all things Molly Ringwald.  As I looked through the hundreds of posts, I couldn’t believe how much I had in common with these girls.

When I saw the link that said “Contribute To Our Blog,” I got so excited.  I immediately filled out the little form where you can submit three of your posts, tried to think of something witty to say for the “about me” section, and gushed to them how obsessed I was with their blog.  I told them how much I loved Sweet Valley High, and how I tried to form my own “Babysitter’s Club” when I as younger, too.  I sent it in, and immediately got an automated response back that said my submission would be reviewed, and I’d hear back from someone in two weeks.  I patiently waited for two weeks, but after fourteen days…I heard nothing.  There was no formal rejection, and no response saying they wanted to use one of my posts either.  After three weeks had passed, I decided to fill out another form with three different blogs, but again two weeks went by, and nothing.  So, I did it a third, and a fourth, and a fifth…and there was nothing but crickets.

I was disappointed.  I asked myself, “What did I do wrong?  Did they not like my posts?  Didn’t they like me?”  I was so sure they were going to love it, at least one of them…how could I be so wrong?  It was then that I grasped what it must feel like for girls who pledge a sorority, thinking you have found a group of girls where you perfectly fit in, only to not be selected and left wondering why.

The bigger question was why did I care so much?  It wasn’t like me to care about something like this at all.  I think it was because when I finally decided I wanted to be a part of something, I couldn’t.  I hadn’t anticipated that.

It took me back to high school, college, different places I’ve worked, auditions I haven’t landed, and made me remember situations I hadn’t thought about in years where I felt left out.  Had my fiercely independent attitude been nothing more than a defense mechanism all along?

I really can’t be sure, but all I know is, I’ve learned something from this situation.  Sometimes people are going to like you, and sometimes they won’t.  Sometimes everything fits right into place the way you expect it to, and sometimes it doesn’t.  All you can be is you, and nothing more.

It’s kind of like what Dr. Seuss said…

“Today you are you, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is youer than you.”

Sometimes just being you is all you can be, and that’s enough.

~The End

Photos by alphalogistics.us, xfinity.comcast.net, imdb, safenetwork.org

Six MORE Things I Might Never Understand.

1.)  Pajamas in public…especially celebrities who wear pajamas in public.

Seriously? You went shopping wearing this?! Oh, for the love.

C’mon people seriously?  I don’t get why some people wear their p.j.’s to run errands such as shopping, getting gas, having their nails done, etc.  How hard is it to just slip some jeans on?  Or even yoga pants?  Why wear the plaid pajama bottoms that are clearly made to sleep in?  I don’t know about you, but for me this screams, “I just woke up, didn’t shower, and I was too lazy to dress myself so here I am, world!”  You wanna know why?  Because I’ve never heard of anyone showering and then putting their sleep clothes back on to go outside.  I mean, does that happen?  You guys tell me.

2.)  Why I ALWAYS pick the squeaky cart at the grocery store.

This is the face I imagine I'll have when I pick a non squeaky cart for the first time.

Why, WHY, WHYYYYYY, must I always pick the squeaky cart?!  As fate would have it, each and every time, no matter what I do, I get a cart that either screeches, scrapes, or squeals at the grocery store.  It never fails.  I have even gone as far as to put one cart back, and grab another, only to find that, that cart also squeaks!  What typically ends up happening is that I give up, go about my shopping, often to find every person I pass turning around to see where that awful sound is coming from.  UGH.

I may never know the meaning behind this, or if I’m meant to learn some significant life lesson from it…Patience, perhaps?  I’ll keep you posted if I have any revelations on the matter, though.

3.)  Sheryl Crow using one, yes only ONE, toilet paper square to wipe.

She was quoted as saying, “I think we are an industrious enough people that we can make it work with only one square per restroom visit, except, of course, on those pesky occasions where 2 to 3 could be required.”

Say what?!

Speak for yourself, Sher.

Just to give you a visual of what one square of toilet paper looks like, in case you forgot.

Okay, so I respect the message behind Sheryl’s stance, but I’ve got to say, it’s not realistic.  How would that little square even do anything?!  In my opinion, why even wipe at all then?  That little sucker is not going to go very far, can we all agree on that at least?  I think my favorite part is when she eloquently references “those times where you might need two or three…”  Two or three?!  That’s it, Sher?  I don’t think I need to get into why that is not sufficient, do I?

4.)  Chelsea Handler

Someone please make me understand!  I really want to get what it is that is so funny about this woman, because right now I’m in the minority.

Okay, so I get that this is supposed to be funny...

I’ve tried you guys, I really have, but I still don’t get it.  Does she have to grow on you?  Maybe it’s that sort of thing….Whatever it is, at this moment I don’t find her antics at all entertaining.  See, here’s the thing:  I usually enjoy a sort of dry sense of humor, but with her, I can’t help but find her extremely obnoxious.  The fact that Jennifer Aniston and Reese Witherspoon are her good friends makes me want to understand her appeal more, because I love those two.  Unfortunately, until I do,  I remain a part of the “I just don’t get it” club.

5.)  Why I can’t learn to read a map.

It's all Greek to me.

I can read the light up maps at the mall…Does that count?  Just kidding.  I would say I have a decent sense of direction.  For example, if I’ve been somewhere once, I can usually remember how to find my way there or back, but it has nothing to do with road signs.  If I start to read signs, I’ll get lost.  I’m better listening to my intuition and just going with it.

It’s a different story when it comes to road maps.  Let me put it this way, if my life was dependent on finding my way home by reading a road map, I wouldn’t make it home.  I also don’t understand highways or how to read a compass.  What I’m basically getting at, is that I am not the person you want with you when you’re lost.

6.)  The backlash on Paula Deen.

Such a good ol' girl.

Okay, so correction, I do get what some people’s stances are on the controversy with Paula Deen, but I don’t agree with it.

Why?  For many reasons that I’m not going to go full throttle into, so let’s just leave it at that I love her.  Like, I want to hang out and cook some of that down home cookin’ with her.  If you’re out there Paula Deen, pick me pick me!  I want to make some of that jello poke cake with you.  Please?

A lot of people came out and scathed her after she announced her diabetes diagnosis, but I remain a true fan, and feel only she knows the reasons behind the choices that she made.  Whatever she chose, I heart her.

Oh yeah, and that guy, Anthony Bourdain, who comes out periodically to harass her?  Dude needs to get a life, because clearly he’s living off of her publicity.  Note to Anthony…lay off my Paula…Mmmkay?

~The End

Photos by posh24.com, wellandgoodnyc.com, http://www.instructables.com, sharalsthoughtsandramblings.blogspot.com, smart-traveler.info, susanweinernutrition.com

“Excuse me, but there is a lady waiting to be helped.  You can clean that spill up later.”

These are the sounds that I have heard lately.  The sounds that won’t let me escape the undeniable fact that I am positively…

Becoming a lady.

Ugh.

See, now I always kind of thought this right here was "lady" status...

I’m only 29, I honestly had no idea that I was treading on “lady” status, that is, until I was referred to as a “lady” not one, but two days in a row.  I’ll admit, the first time I thought it was a fluke.  I was in line at Starbucks trying to get an iced coffee, and there was a teenage barista and his twenty something year old manager working behind the counter.  The Justin Beiber-esque looking boy was in the middle of cleaning up an entire jug of iced tea that fell out of the fridge, and the manager was restocking cups near the coffee machines.  I walked up, with no one else behind me, and patiently waited for a few moments.  Then, the manager says, “Excuse me but there is a lady waiting to be helped…You can clean that spill up later.”  I almost bursted out laughing…“lady” moi?  You cannot be serious.  “Girl” maybe, but “lady?!”  C’mon people!  Then, the teenage boy stops what he’s doing, leaves the rag on the floor, and proceeds to come up to me and say, “I’m sorry ma’am.  Sorry for keeping you waiting.”  I couldn’t help it, I chuckled a little.  First “lady” and then “ma’am?”  I thought it must be a coincidence, no doubt about it.

That is, until…

Directly the next day I was having lunch in the food court of the mall, where a group of six or seven teenagers were loitering.  They weren’t eating, they were simply “hanging out” at the mall.  They were no older than fifteen or sixteen, and the group consisted of mostly boys and two girls.  One of the girls had the most obnoxious laugh I have heard in my life to date.  It was this obscene cackling that occurred every ten to twenty seconds, and the worst part was, it wasn’t even a genuine laugh.  How do I know this?  Every time I looked over at her, I saw her staring out of the corner of her eye at the boy sitting next to her before she would bust into one of the cackles.  Also, her mouth wasn’t smiling, she was basically just shooting out sound, for the sake of shooting out sound, in an attempt to laugh at the boys jokes.

But whatever, this is normal teenage stuff so far…

I actually got up to move because I was on the phone with a friend, and her laughing was so ridiculous that my friend couldn’t hear me.  As I walked passed the group, the teenage girl decided to suddenly scream in the boy’s face, I guess she was trying to be funny or something, and I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.  I jumped a mile, because it startled me to the core.  A cackle I would’ve expected, but a shriek?  No.  A different girl who was sitting across from the boy and girl with the cackle said, “Oh my gawwwwwd.  You totally just scared that poor lady!!!”

That was it.  They couldn’t have been talking about me!  Could they?  I looked behind me, and my question was validated.  The whole group was staring off into the direction I was walking away, and when I made eye contact with the girl with the cackle, she immediately looked away.  I could not deny it any longer that they were in fact talking about me.  And to top it off, she looked at me in the way you might look at an adult, that you were afraid was about to reprimand you.

And that, my friends, is how I became a lady.

~The End.

Photos by ideachampions.com

I was so honored that so many people loved it and would take the time to write out messages in response to it!

So, thank you to those who commented, and please know that I read each one!  I’m sorry if I couldn’t respond to everyone, but also know that I really wanted to!

I appreciate all the feedback, and hope to see my new readers around soon.

xo

Sarah

There I said it.

How old are you when you learn to count money again?  Six…seven?

Maybe I need to go back to elementary school? I'd probably still fit behind one of the desks...

I distinctly remember learning to count money in maybe first of second grade.  We had these little paper coins and dollars that we would use to practice with.  It frustrated me then, and I’m still frustrated now.

Don’t get it twisted, I know how to count money.  That’s not the issue.  The issue is the sheer panic I fall under while doing so.

Sometimes I wish I had one of these.

I went shopping the other day, and when it came time to pay, the change called for 67 cents.  Easy right?  Normally, but there were at least four impatient people behind me.  I started frantically searching through my wallet, muttering under my breath, “I swear I had a quarter in here somewhere.”  The sales girl, who was probably about seventeen, was chomping on her gum, staring at me in disbelief.  I pulled out some change, dropping multiple coins on the floor, and that’s when I really started to panic.  A nice southern gentleman behind me picked it up, handing it to me, and giving me an “I feel sorry for you” smile.  As I retrieved the coins, I immediately started counting, but I kept getting stuck from the pressure. “Ten, fifteen, twenty,” I mentally counted, “Wait was that twenty cents I just counted?  What did I just count?!”  I stared down at the coins in my hand, the hysteria blurring my vision, and started over.  Getting frustrated, I handed her my entire handful of change, and let out a deep sigh of relief that it was off my hands.  She looked at me like, “Are you crazy?” And proceeded to count it out for me, pushing the remaining change back over to me across the counter when she was done.  I weakly smiled, embarrassed that I’m a 29-year-old woman who has change counting panic.

I’ve got to be honest, I think I totally deserve a big fat “Who does that, like seriously who does that” label?

After all, I’ve earned it.

My only question is:  Am I alone in this?  Or do other people have the “change panic” too?

~The End.

Photos by phillysportsphan.blogspot.com, and pinterest.  

She is one crazy b*tch.

Okay, okay, so we all know that this b*tch is crazy, but admit it, she is saying exactly what you’re thinking.

To be honest with you, I have no idea what changed.  I used to find this woman thoroughly obnoxious, but somewhere along the way, she made me laugh.  And then she made me laugh again.  And then I thought, “This woman is brilliant!”  There is something about her that is so wrong that it’s right.

She has a reality show with her daughter, and if you haven’t watched it, you must.  She is bat sh*t crazy, but she has a heart while acting like a maniac.  In a recent episode, a close friend of hers has passed away, so she decides to scatter his ashes.  Sounds normal enough, right?  Wrong!  I watched in horror (and awe) as she dutifully dispersed his ashes in places in LA like Rodeo Drive in front of Chanel, in the garden of the late and great Judy Garland’s home, and lastly on the dance floor of her friend’s favorite bar (which was immediately followed by a dance party led by Joan.)

This woman has completely lost her mind, but she is undeniably hilarious.

Jersey Shore

Speaking of a bunch of crazies...

Are you guys sensing a theme yet?

I told you these were guilty pleasures…

It’s actually painful for me to admit that I am pretty much obsessed with these fools.  Every one of them is more ridiculous than the next…and I LOVE it.  Like, I really love it, and I can’t hide it.

Snookie is by far my favorite, though I have to admit, I was really quite disappointed with her behavior when her bf was visiting in Italy last season.  That was some really gross stuff.  Oh, and also her behavior with Deena…that was just…well, strange…Okay, so maybe Snookie isn’t my favorite.  Maybe I don’t even have a favorite, but let’s just say I love this show as a whole.  Sure it’s mayhem, and a complete debauchery every week, but boy oh boy does it make me bust a gut.  In a good way.

Makenzie from Toddlers and Tiaras

This child is cray-cray.

This child is totally out of control, and I can’t stop watching the train-wreck.

Whether she is screaming (in her thick southern accent), “I want my ne-ne” (ne-ne is code for pacifier by the way), or telling other kids to stop hugging her when they recognize her from television, there is no denying that this child is pure entertainment at its best.

I just feel bad for her mother who gets OWNED by Makenzie on nearly every episode.

Teen Witch

Yes, this movie was filmed in the 80's.

“Top that, stop that, I don’t really give, uh, about that.” <–Does that ring a bell.

Basically this movie is the cheesiest movie you could ever dream up.  It’s like “Pretty in Pink” with Molly Ringwald, but with little people and musical numbers.

It is probably the most random film you will ever lay your eyes on, and if you’re watching it you’re likely to think, “What the H am I even watching right now?!?!”  But then something magically happens…you’ll get sucked into all the musical locker room scenes, and you just might find that you’re actually enjoying yourself.  A lot.

Well, that’s all for now, folks.

But tell me…what are some of your guilty pleasures?

~The End.

Photos by hellogiggles, tv.yahoo.com, eonline.com, nj.com

I just don’t get it.  As a hairstylist, this has been one of the most elusive things for me to try and understand about people.  I’ve come across many perfectly put together people, who just don’t like/or want to have clean hair.  Maybe the natural oils give them more body or control over their hair, or maybe they just like the organic smell of dirty hair.

Okay, so I love Edward too, but Robert Pattinson is said to go weeks without washing his hair. Even though I'm Team Edward, I've got to say EEEW.

I once overheard a boss telling a client, “You only need to wash your hair once a month.”  The client said, “Wow, really?!”  To which he replied, “Oh yes, I haven’t washed my hair in over two months.  I just rinse it out, and layer more conditioner on it.”  Uhhhh…Say what?!  I may never understand this concept.  I think I’ll stick with my fresh, shiny, and clean hair any day of the week.  Thankyouverymuch….but to each their own, I guess.

2.)  Grown-up Cartoons

I’m sorry to say this, but I just don’t get it…any of them…South Park, Family Guy, The Simpsons, Beavis and Butthead, etc.

I know you guys might hate me for this, but what is funny about this again?

To be honest with you, if I’m going to sit down and watch a cartoon, I’d rather watch good ol’ Scooby-Doo.  I’ve tried to watch a variety of adult cartoons many times, but each time, I can’t get through more than five minutes.  Maybe it’s just not my sense of humor…Whatever the reason, grown up cartoons don’t float my boat.

3.)  Debates on Facebook

Seriously, what is up with getting into back and forth disputes on Facebook.  You guys know what I’m talking about…someone writes something that someone else doesn’t agree with, someone comments back refuting what the original person said, original person defends their stance, other people get involved, situation gets out of control, and so on and so forth.

Exactly what I'm talking about. P.S. I stole this from twentytwowords.com

Here’s a concept:  If you don’t like what someone says, how about just not saying anything at all?  I kind of thought we all learned that in Kindergarten.  I read plenty of things that I think are completely ludicrous, but every time I want to write something in response, I just think to myself, “Why bother???”  Chances are you’re not going to change their mind anyway.  So, why not just leave well enough alone?  If someone thinks Marvin the Martian would be a great President, who really cares?

4.)  Juice Diets

For those of you who’ve done it, please tell me how, because I never could.  I gotta to eat.

Yuck.

I’ve never detoxed, gone on a juice diet, raw food only diet, or anything else of the sort.  I suspect that I wouldn’t make it more than a day if I tried.  Juice diets are so perplexing to me.  Yes, you can probably drop a lot of weight quickly, but I assume that the second you start eating solid foods again, the weight probably just piles back on.  So, what’s the point?  For those of you who regularly “juice” to lose weight, please enlighten me about the benefits and why you do it.  I’m genuinely interested.

5.)  Phone games.

You don’t have to tell me, I already know I am completely alone in this.  Everyone seems to love phone games, whether it’s Words With Friends, Fruit Ninja, Angry Birds, etc.  Even my three-year nephew when asked what he wanted to be for Halloween declared, “An Angry Bird!”

However, I don’t get what’s so transfixing about them.  Alec Baldwin almost got kicked off a plane because he couldn’t put down his game of Words With Friends for godsakes!  So, what gives?  Why is everyone so obsessed?  I’ve never been very competitive, so maybe that has something to do with it…Or maybe I just haven’t found the right game yet…

6.)  Football

Yes, I fully admit this.  I really don’t get it.

At all.

Okay, why would I want to sit outside in this weather to watch this game again?

I don’t get what the game is all about, and I don’t get why people love it so much, or why they’re willing to sit outside in sleet or rain to cheer on their favorite team.

One time, I went to a college football game in the dead of winter, and decided it was a good idea to wear a flimsy jacket and heeled boots.  I just couldn’t bring myself to layer up like the rest of the normal people.  Plus, I thought I looked cute.  Well, it started raining, my pants got wet up to my knees, and I swear I’ve never been more cold or miserable in my life!

I really don’t think there is any hope for me when it comes to football.  I’ve had many chances to embrace the game.  I was a cheerleader for a total of 6 years between middle school and high school, and I still don’t get it.  Many people have tried to explain it to me, but every time they get about half-way through, I usually end up looking at my nails and deciding I need a manicure.  Let’s be real, I’m just not that interested.

So, tell me…

What are some things you might never understand?

~The End.

Photos by Twentytwowords.com, IMDB, Amazon, juice-diets.com, and nflpassers.com