Back In Session

Ahhh summer break - was it as good for you as it was for me? Wait, what's that? You thought we had just forgotten about the blog, so busy were we with the many small pleasures and annoyances of our everyday lives? PISH POSH! No, sillies, we simply thought we'd take a break from the blog to make up for the fact that as adults we don't get real summer breaks!

Not buying it, huh? Okay FINE. The truth is that we are apparently as bad at keeping up with the blog as I used to be at keeping up with a journal (read: v. v. bad). But we're back now, refreshed and ready to get to the adulthood sharing and sermonizing!

First order of business? Discussing the many adult things we did on our summer breaks! Me, well, I did a couple of things, the most "adult" being that I attended the weddings of two of my very best friends (shout out Meg and Allie!). Adding them to my friends Boris and Anna, this now makes four of my close friends who are hitched. WOAH.

Now, I'll admit, attending weddings isn't really "adult" per se. I mean, what with the "macarena"-ing, cake munching, and general open bar induced shenanigans, you could argue that wedding receptions are actually the opposite of adult.*

So, I'll give it to you, the receptions aren't adult. You know what part is adult? The VOWS. Yes, those things are serious. I'm not religious or sentimental at all and the vows still make me all misty and contemplative. That's a huge commitment wrapped up in those little words. Seriously. SO LARGE. Thinking about making that type of commitment makes me feel...adult. Bet you thought I was gonna say scared, right? Well you're wrong. I totally admire all of my friends that have made that commitment so far and I look forward to them giving me advice when it comes my turn to make the leap...as long as they give the advice BEFORE hitting the open bar.

So...what adult things did you all do this summer? And SERIOUSLY, OMG, HOW EXCITED ARE YOU FOR FOOTBALL?!!!!!!!

They (don't) know too much.

I'm talking about old friends, and when it's time to call it quits. For some close to me, they know that a few years ago, I embarked on writing a book all about this subject. It's a fact, I am a big fan of breaking up with friends that suck.

I had a brief reminder of the characters in this book a few days ago when I learned that a few of my old college compadres and I would be frequenting the same Independence Day destination. Initially, I thought this will be great time to show them how great I'm doing in life and how sexy my boyfriend is. Until I remembered that we had an extremely anticlimactic falling out, followed by an even less remarkable (if possible) attempt at reconciliation. The whole thing was just lame. Not dramatic enough to be exciting, but just annoying enough to be...annoying.

This got me thinking about the initial encounter we might have given the (very high) chance that we bump into each other outside Fat Tuesdays. Do we hug? Pretend that we don't secretly wish each other gets fat? I'm not sure if it's become so apparent just yet, but "fake" isn't a good color on me. I actually wasted an inordinate amount time thinking about this run-in, and if it would come to fruition before realizing...wait a second...do I really care?

I've devised a very simple test as to whether or not you should continue a friendship with someone based on this simple equation. If he/she has missed 3 or more significant milestones in your life, or on the converse, you've missed more than 3 in his/hers...let's just face it...you're not friends.

After a quick count (how hard is it to count to 3?) I realized that there have been 5 major milestones since 2008 in my life.

1. Dad passed away.
2. Move to New York City
3. Move back to Florida
4. Move in with boyfriend (uh..yeah...that is a big deal)
5. Start a business

At that point, there is just too much you don't know about me to be my friend. Now of course, this doesn't apply to strangers or as the more optimistic refer to them "friends that we haven't met yet." They get a fresh slate. But people that call themselves "friends" well that term comes with a certain level of responsibility, pal. And vice versa, if you got married, and I've never met the guy, or know his name...yeah we're not friends.

I read a quote from the Tipping Point today and it said that the maximum number of people that we are physically capable of having a genuine relationship with is 150. I have 831 Facebook friends. Something is wrong with this picture.

So part of my growing up experience this year is to realize who my real friends are, and start putting more energy into those relationships...all the while balancing a career that encourages me to schmooze and blow smoke up people's ass on the regular. Awesome.

The plan is, there is no plan.

Typically, I am avid planner. Almost to a fault. (Probably definitely to a fault.) But I've learned a valuable lesson recently, and that is you can't always plan for life. Sure you can calculate risk, asses situations, and make good decisions, but sometimes your plans just end up getting shot to hell.

Like our blog. We actually had a weekend planning session detailing the rubric we would follow to ensure success in our "growing older and wiser in 365 days" idea. Clearly, we haven't stuck to that plan, and after a brief conversation with Wendy last night (between her grueling work hours and incredibly demanding television schedule), we're okay with that. And the reason we're okay with that is because day to day life provides us enough material to write about that is enriching and entertaining enough to still be considered a worthwhile study of the art of becoming an adult.

So there it is, the plan is...there is no plan. Enjoy our random posts in no particular order from this day forth.

Are you a Hoarder? Because I don't want to be with a hoarder.

This is the statement my boyfriend made not two days ago, while looking me expressionless, straight in the face. Without knowing if it was completely accurately, I answered, "Nooo" accompanied by a "How dare you make that accusation face."

The reason he asked might have something to do with these...

So while Wendy has the problem of not having enough "stuff," I suffer from the opposite affliction. Sure it started innocently enough, man-friend and I decided that we might try our hand at refinishing chairs and then turning a profit by selling them on Ebay or some very cool consignment store that appreciates Crafty-Cathy home-made looking one-of-a-kind chairs. (Probably the same type of place that carries the elusive kindergarten quality macaroni necklace.) Turns out that we refinished 1, (front left), only to find out that in it's original state, that specific brand of chair sells for $300 on Ebay. In it's quasi Lily Pulitzer want to be state, it is worth about $20 (to my mom).

Now, I can't seem to drive by a yard sale or garbage heap without glancing expectantly at the concealed treasures. And all I can think about is getting a larger place to hold more and more stuff. Just imagine the projects we could dream up (but not actually ever follow through with) if we had an actual studio or...gasp...wood shop.

I'm like a Confessions of A Shop-A-Holic protagonist. I find an inexpensive hobby that catches my attention, buy all of the expensive necessities to make the hobby happen, then lose interest within a week. Good thing my interest this time was a chair, and not a puppy...although I did go to the Humane Society yesterday...

In conclusion, my advice to Wendy is to compromise on the furniture. Buy something nice, and finance it. Hell, I haven't paid a dime for my couches yet and I've been straight chillin' for 6 months. (Gotta love those no payment deals.) More times than not, your cool vintage, thrift store find ends up right back at the thrift store. And sometimes they smell like kitty litter.

And IKEA's not so bad (as long as you don't buy the 7.99 end table), I am staring at my TV Stand and bookshelves right now in the signature black-brown Lack, and I feel very, very chic.

Minimalism is so hot right now.

"I Totally Meant to Call, It's Just, That I've Been SOOO Busy"

On behalf of both Tink and myself I want to start this blog post by apologizing for being "that guy." You know the guy that I mean: he comes on all hot and heavy, taking you out for drinks at sexy little nightspots, regaling you with witty stories, and generally just getting all up inside your head. And then he disappears, leaving you alone with your " poor me" oreos wondering what went wrong. Those guys suck and we are truly sorry for being like them. That being said, we're back! So put down the oreos and read on....

Right now, I'm writing this from my CAVERNOUS apartment. Before you get all jealous about my square footage, know that my apartment is really not that big. I mean, by New York City standards, it's the freaking Taj Mahal. By every other city in the world's standards? Pretty average. And still...it feels cavernous. Why? Well, because aside from a pretty nice bedroom set, a love seat, and a chaise (yes, its frenchy, look it up), I have NO furniture. I've lived in Atlanta for going on seven months now, yet I have no coffee table, no kitchen table, no desk, no lamps, no random console for storing my mail and old magazines, no chairs, no bookcases, NADA. Seriously, I could full on tumble in my living room. While the retired cheerleader in me loves that, the adult in me is crying out for a goddamn table!

The problem is that I'm kind of paralyzed by the thought of buying furniture. It just seems like such a big undertaking. Here are the questions I'm grappling with:

1) Do I go cheap? I could go cheap, but then I risk regretting it in two years when I have to go out and get yet another coffee table. Going (too) cheap just feels like saving a little now to pay more later. Plus super cheap furniture just looks so....cheap. Fine, Ikea stuff is sometimes so cool and euro looking that it escapes looking cheap. Still, I have a different issue with Ikea, namely, that EVERYONE our age outfits their apartment in Ikea and so we all look like lemmings....cool, euro lemmings, but still.

2) Do I go expensive? Ideally, I'd like to get nice furniture. However, I cant afford to put out all of the cash to get nice stuff right now and the thought of taking on more monthly payments makes me want to curl up in a ball and cry for my mommy.

3) Do I scour vintage/antique stores? This is an excellent option....or it would be if I was at all adept at picking out cool vintage stuff. Tink is very good at this sort of thing. Me? Not so much. I can't tell if something vintage is cool unless: (a) someone tells me it is or (b) it is so obscenely expensive that it just HAS to be cool.

Ugh, even typing this out makes me tired. Any suggestions?? Please help! Unless, of course you want to come over to my gymnasium/living room for some tumble and dance time.

Cats and Dogs, Living Together

In one of her last posts, Tink described the various steps that twenty-something couples take on their way to becoming the married-with-kids, suburbia-dwelling, CBS-watching, soccer moms and dads that we think of as true "adult" couples. Let's recap these steps:

1) Meet the Parents

2) Move In Together

3) Get a Pet

4) Get Married

5) Have Kids

There are tons of little steps in between these (i.e. go on vacation together and both come back alive and in love), but from where I'm sitting, these are the BIG 5.

Well readers, I am finally joining Tink as a proud, card-carrying dweller of Step 2. Yes, that's right, the BF is moving in! Cohabitation - all the cool kids are doing it.

The cats and dogs living together title is actually very apt for this post. See, my boyfriend is very dog-like: attentive, loving, and active, yes, but also a little messy and prone to knocking over expensive tchotkes and losing his toys (i.e. his new Droid Incredible). I, on other hand, am very cat-like: neat, aloof, and as likely to be found sleeping as awake. Us cohabitating is not going to be boring, that's for sure!

I've been very lucky in my life to have some of the most amazing roommates that a girl could ever ask for. Sure we sometimes fought about dirty dishes, clothes-sharing, or forgetting to lock the door, but we always survived those fights and lived to watch another 6-hour marathon of One Tree Hill or The Challenge: Inferno 2.

I know that living with the boyfriend is going to have its challenges. He likes to watch CNN every night, while I go apeshit if I miss a second of the Bachelorette. He's a blanket thief. I never remember to fill the Brita. But I also know that like my other roommates and I did, me and the bf will get through the fights and live to have another night full of wine and snuggling...with him having all of the blankets, of course.

So, tell me readers: what were some unexpected challenges that you faced when cohabitating for the first time? What were some unexpected benefits?

Failure Notice

[An actual screenshot, from my actual email.]

We've probably all seen one of these pop up in our inbox before. A typo in an email address, or the address doesn't exist anymore, and you receive a friendly automated message.

Typically, the first words you see are MAILER DAEMON. First off, what is a "daemon," is that like a Demon named Damon? Some sort of hybrid? I don't appreciate the half-hearted spelling. And quite frankly, I don't get it.

Next, you see something like, "I'm afraid I wasn't able to deliver your message to the following addresses."

I just don't appreciate that kind of transient sympathy. I'm in my late twenties for Christ's sake, don't you think I question my success enough...now I have a blinking, midday reminder that I'm a failure. It's really no way to get the creativity flowing.

The next line: "This is a permanent error; I've given up. "

Great, you've given up. That was the last viable contact I had at HARPO Headquarters, and now what am I supposed to tell my client..."I've given up!"?

It takes you through all the stages of grief in a matter of moments. Then the sassy, albeit well-mannered automated email, concludes with a, "Sorry it didn't work out." You're sorry?

It's tough to be a grown up. That--we've all come to understand pretty quickly. But I think what's more difficult is to keep on being a grown up. To make the conscious choice to keep getting slapped around by the turns of fate everyday, and going back for more. To not become the guy on the couch at your friend's house, or the person that moves back in with your parents, or the girl who decides to become a cocktail waitress instead of working the 9-5.

One of the breakout stars of this project has been one of my guy friends who serendipitously provides me random sound bites about being an adult, and he dropped another totally unsolicited pearl of cynicism on me today. He said, "It's just the way the world works. Sucks, huh? I never thought it would be this way when I was younger. No wonder there are so many cynical assholes in the world." (This came from the same person that told me as we grow up, people only get together for weddings and funerals.)

I can't say I disagree. But that's not to say, I wouldn't go back for seconds or thirds in the buffet of life. (Sorry, Golden Corral is on my mind after driving around Orlando this weekend.) I guess I'd rather be told I'm a failure, then never try in the first place. And although this may be a permanent error, I have not given up.

I would ask for comments, but clearly...our efforts are futile. So I'll just say thanks to all the random people that do occasionally read our blog. And for those that do give a shit enough to comment, you'll be the ones with the walk on roles when it becomes a movie. Because it will. Fuck yeah.

Automatic, Supersonic, Hypnotic

...Funky Fresh!

Okay, wow, that was a lame title. But admit it, that Ciara song is the jam. The topic of this blog post? Not so much the jam. Today we're talking about...billing options!

I've been thinking about this recently. Not only do i have TONS of bills (seriously, so many), but I feel like I also have a shit ton of options when it comes to how I want to receive and pay my bills. Do I go automatic debit? Paperless? Traditional? With Cheese? Without?

At the moment, I'm experimenting with my options. I get paperless (i.e. email) bills for my cell phone, one of my student loans, my cable, and my washer and dryer rental. I get traditional bills for my other student loan, my electricity, my furniture payment, and my credit cards. This sort of mix-n-match system is admittedly a little schizophrenic, but it's working for me so far. Maybe one day, I'll commit to an option...but I will not be pressured into it (do you hear me Bank of America? STOP ASKING ME IF I WANT TO GO PAPERLESS EVERY SINGLE TIME I CHECK MY BALANCE!!!).


I haven't yet ventured into automatic debit territory...I don't know why, but that stuff scares me. I guess I kind of feel like with automatic debit I'll either end up paying for something twice or not paying at all. I don't know...I just like to keep a paper/email trail of my payments (it's the lawyer in me.)

What do you guys do to manage your bills? Is automatic debit the best thing ever and I'm missing out? TELL ME!

Oh Mama.

Mother’s Day got me thinking about growing up, and being a mom in particular. I figure that at the age we’re at (late twenties) this is when people start thinking about that sort of thing. And it’s a strange moment, when you start to see actual biological clocks begin to tick among your friends.

The first holy shit period after you graduate college seems to be the “moving in together” phase. This is when college sweethearts make the plunge into cohabitation much to the resentment of many a single guy or girl friend. They hate it and break up or eventually get engaged.

Next tends to be the marriage segment. This is when all your friends start to get engaged and you start hearing things like “OMG, we are so old!..people are…like…starting to get married…” You stand in a few weddings; buy a few ugly bridesmaid dresses, and the initial shock fades into gradual acceptance.

So after about a year of marriage, the newlyweds (provided they haven’t already gotten divorced) begin to explore the idea of procreation. An outsider begins to see small things happen. Purchases reflect plans for the future: a house with 3 bedrooms, a car with safety features, an energy efficient washer and dryer. And then comes…the puppy.

Nothing says I’m dying to take care of something, but I’m just not ready to take another life into my own hands like a cuddly, snuggly little newborn canine.

Once you have successfully fostered a puppy into an adolescent (which takes what about 4 weeks?) raising an infant seems a little less scary. Cleaning feces becomes a little less repulsive. Babies in general seem much less frightening, and maybe even…cute?

(No I didn't pull this picture off cutestbabiesintheworld.com, this is an actual baby that I know. Thanks Josh and Amy for choosing to reproduce...well done!)

I’ve actually witnessed this entire process unfold a few times, and have actually begun to live it myself (although it looks like I will be taking the advanced course, skipping the marriage stuff and going straight to the puppy.) and it is heartwarming to say the least.

I know what you’re thinking…wow Tink this is really inspirational, it’s like nothing I’ve ever heard before—you really capture the essence of the human process here. I mean how did you become so objective, yet all encompassing…some perspective!

Sure it is simply an overtly simplified commentary on the incredibly obvious…but I feel that sometimes it helps to explain things when we take a look around and just observe. What the hell, Seinfeld ran for how many seasons, and that was their premise.

So we've talked about finances, and this was a total tangent, but somewhat relevant based on the holiday. What's next?

Rich Friend, Poor Friend*

It's Friday afternoon and you get a text from a friend asking if you want to go out to dinner at the cool new restaurant that just opened downtown. Totally awesome...except you've already been out to happy hour twice this week, had dinner at that overpriced sushi place on Monday, and booked a spa day with your college roommate. What do you do?

If you're me, you go out anyway and tell yourself that you're not being irresponsible, you're being social. Nobody can blame you for being social, right? Well, of course not. But don't expect your credit card company to cut you slack just because you're Miss Popularity.

Unless you're the richest person in your circle of friends, you've probably experienced an "OMG-am-I-too-poor-for-my-friends?" moment or two. Me? I've had my fair share of these moments. In college, my new girlfriends seemed to think nothing of eating out 2-3 times a week AND getting mimosa brunches on Sundays. I liked mimosas as much as the next girl, but I had a meal plan and my parents expected me to use it. Things haven't really changed much now that I'm out of school and an "adult." I still have tons of friends that can afford lavish girl's weekends and think nothing of having 3-martini dinners on the regular.

Now, of course my friends are awesome and never pressure me to spend money I don't have. The pressure is totally self-inflicted. But, come on - nobody wants to be the friend that misses out on the reunion trip to Vegas or can't afford to go to dinner. So, what do you do?

Some strategies:

(1) Take Charge! If you're the one planning the dinners or trips, you can pick the most affordable options. Instead of a trying out that expensive bistro, suggest a potluck dinner with a fun theme. Instead of that trip to the Caribbean, invite all of your old college friends to visit you in your new city.

(2) Man up! If you can't afford to do something, don't be ashamed. You work hard for your money and its up to you how you spend it. Tell your friends that you're sorry, but you just can't make happy hour this week. Then maybe invite them all over on Saturday to do something fun and free (i.e. lay out by the pool, catch up on Vampire Diaries, gossip about coworkers).

(3) Share! This one really only works for dinner, but it's a gem. In college, my best friend and I would of course never say no to weekly girl's dinner. But, we wanted to watch what we spent, so we decided to always SHARE dinner. It was genius. We never got overly fully (seriously, portion sizes are ridiculous), we saved money, and we got to enjoy time with our friends. Win-Win-Win.


Alright frugal friends out there...what are your strategies for dealing when you feel like your friends don't share your money woes?

*If you don't get the Rich Dad, Poor Dad pun in the title, than you clearly did not take AP Economics at St. Thomas Aquinas High School in Ft. Lauderdale. Lucky you. Seriously, LUCKY YOU. But also, Rich Dad, Poor Dad is really good and always inspires me to want to invest and spend my money wisely. I highly recommend it.

Mo Money, Mo Problems?

YEAH, RIGHT. Sorry, B.I.G., but I am simply not buying it. I'm pretty sure that for me, right now, at this stage of my life, mo money would equal mo happiness.

Seriously, money is at the very top of my stress list (also high on that list right now is the fact that I see the sandwich lady at Jimmy John's way more than I see my friends or my boyfried...but I digress). This isn't really all that surprising. See, unlike Tink, I have not been supporting myself financially since I was eighteen. Sure, I had my own checking account that I would put my meager paychecks from working at the tanning salon/martini bar/summer camp into, but I pretty much used that money to pay for drinks, manicures, and ballet flats. All of the BIG expenses (rent, utilities, doctor's bills, phone bills)? Those were covered by my parents. It's only since January that I've really started to appreciate how much stuff there is to pay for on a monthly basis. I'm not kidding when I say that I've seriously considered giving up home internet.

Anyways, I don't really have any advice or fun stories to share on this topic. Finances are simply NOT fun. Also not fun? The prospect of getting a financial advisor. Seriously, why do I want someone to tell me to put more money into my savings and spend less on wine. I LIKE WINE. SHUT UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE, YOU MISER.

If you are more mature and wise than me and DO want a financial advisor, click here for some advice on how to pick one. Just don't say I didn't warn you when he tells you that you're spending too much on after-kickball beers.

It's Taxing.

When we began the Peter Pan Project, we wrote to all of our friends and family and asked them what they thought it meant to be an adult. (Most of you know we did this, but if you're just tuning in, that's how we got started.) Anyhow, almost every response had something to do with finances. Such as, "You've become an adult when you are financially secure, and you don't have to depend on your parents to help you out."

Originally, we planned to have an entire section of organizing finances, doing taxes, and planning for financial stability. But then, we realized there was much more exciting fodder for the blog in our everyday lives, and finances are a major snoozefest.

However, it was worth a mention and it works out that, in light of our slightly skewed schedule, it falls in the same month as taxes--which makes it somewhat relevant I guess. It's also relevant because I have a financial planner that I had an initial meeting with who has been stalking me to "take some time to worry about me" and make time for a second meeting. I like how they use the fear factor in sales..."What would happen if you were unable to work and bring home a paycheck?" (Well, I'd probably move into a van down by the river...) or "If you haven't started thinking about retirement, it's already too late." (Well, maybe if I held a job for more than 10 month increments, we could start talking 401K) It's all based on the premise that eventually you will most likely become disabled, and/or die. I"m glad we cleared that up.

So this year, I was lucky enough to have only 2 W-2's which made it much less confusing than last year when I had 4 W-2's and 2 1099's. What made it a little more sticky was the fact that I lived in both NYC and Florida. Different tax laws. Apparently in New York City, they pay you much more money, but take just as much back--I mean who else is going to pay for new bucket seats on the 6? In Florida, you make less money, they take less back. So somehow this year, I had a little tax evasion situation on my hands. I received a form saying that I owed the IRS $319.00 because there was W-2 that was not entered properly last year, and income that I hadn't claimed (Ha! I knew it sounded too low.) And in addition to that, I owed the state of New York $250.00 for I don't even know what. So 2 different checks going two different places, not to mention my tax return coming into my bank account, Turbo Tax being taken out of the return, and probably some other money taken out for something, somewhere.

It's things like this that make me yearn for younger days. When you just brought these confusing forms to your parents and they filled them out for you. Like immunization records. Who ever thought twice about those? You just stuck them in your Jansport, plopped them on the dining room table, endured a few Hepatitis shots, and you're all set.

So when I think about finances, I do feel pretty adult. I live a cash only life, meaning I don't use credit cards, and have no debt. I also am completely financially independent, except for when I make my boyfriend buy dinner. I haven't accepted money from my parents in many years. I file taxes. And granted, I don't have as much money in my bank account as I'd like to have, but that's all coming in due time.

Soon...let's say in the next 10-50 years...I'll be a mom, and I'll have to worry about all the annoying paperwork for someone else. So I better start practicing on myself I guess...and a phone call to that financial planner might not be a bad idea.

"Have you ever had someone say 'You have a case of the Mondays'?"

Ahh Monday. The most hated day of the week. But thankfully, I woke up with a slightly less awful perspective than I had last week, and isn't that what life is all about? Learning to be less miserable than you were the week before? Wow that sounds depressing! Actually, I was in a huge funk last week, and I finally crawled out the other end and woke up with a brand new "half-full" glass of piss and vinegar.

On the subject of threats...could not agree more with Wendy, our generation (other than being technological wizards) are complete bastards (ourselves included). I didn't go through 7 years of higher education, and I still think I'm worth 6 figures. And from what I can tell from interviewing people, it is only getting worse. I mean that is, if they even look up at you from their IPad during an interview, it will most likely only be to tell you that the tasks that you require are far, far beneath their scope of interest. No thanks, I'll just keep tweeting my way onto the Millionaire Matchmaker.

Another threat that I realized over the weekend is my work. It is threatening to take over my life. I mean that in the most sincere way possible. The line between "work" hours and "home" hours no longer exists, I'm losing sleep, and I find that I have literally not one interesting thing to speak of that is non work-related. People talk a lot about balance, and many people preach that with savvy time management, a glossy agenda (Wendy), and superb organization...you too can HAVE IT ALL! (sparkle, sparkle). Well, I guess that means I am screwed, because everyone saw the picture of my closet, and clearly since I am writing this at 10:08PM and plan to return to work emails after, I have not found the elusive "balance." But that's what the word "Project" in front of "Peter Pan" suggests, a work in progress, so that's what I am working on this week. Step 1, close laptop and watch Pam Anderson and Kate Gosselin humiliate themselves on Dancing With The Stars.

Give Me What I Deserve

Full Disclosure: I thought of this "threat" over a week ago, but I put off writing about it because I didn't want all of you guys to think I was a huge brat. Honestly, what I'm about to say might alienate some people. Still, when Tink and I started this blog we promised to be honest....so here goes.

One of the biggest threats to my current and future happiness is my sense of entitelement. I was raised to believe that I was going to do big things with my life. Now that my life is finally starting, I'm sort of left wondering where all those "big things" are. Where's my big important job? My fancy apartment? My social circle populated with the witty and fabulous? My position on various charity boards and committees? In short, where is the awesomeness that I was promised?

Alright, calming down now. I know that I'm only twenty-six and that, due to attending approximately 7,000 years of schooling, I have really just started my life. Still, I sort of thought it would all be easier. I mean, the simple fact is that even though I make a good amount of money, I can't afford designer bags or takeout dinners every night...but I still sometimes buy them because honestly, I feel like I DESERVE them. I mean, after working all weekend and eating breakast, lunch, and dinner at my desk, I deserve something...right?

Taking this to a less superficial level, as some of you know, the legal industry is currently in the toilet. What this means is that people who worked hard for four years in college, passed the beast that is LSAT, aced law school classes, and did the appropriate extracurriculars still don't have jobs. They did everything right...and it didn't pay off. I know that nobody promised them anything, but aren't these people right to be a little pissed?

I think they are. But I also think that they (and me, this post is supposed to be about me) need to realize that acting/feeling entitled is not going to help any situation. It will only make others, espescially our older coworkers and superiors HATE us. I mean, a short google search of the terms "generation Y" and "entitlement" turns up over 30,000 hits. One of the articles on this issue warns that people who feel entitled are not only more apt to cause workplace conflict, but are also more likely to hate their jobs (probably because they don't feel like they're getting enough gold stars). I think this is totally spot on. I know that I need to stop feeling entitled to praise and start feeling okay with negative feedback. I also know that I need to stop feeling entitled to designer bags...because my budget simply can't cut it.

Thou Shall Not Doubt

Yesterday was not a good day for Tink. Tink had very uncharacteristically low self-esteem yesterday. Tink needs to grow up.

Yesterday was a day that I wished that I didn't have my own business, that I wasn't a (somewhat) adult, and I could put my head under the covers and wait for all the nonsense to subside. Turns out running your own business does not excuse you from upset clients, public or virtual ridicule, or an endless amount of second guessing and self-doubt. No sir.

Mr. Tink told me that I needed a thicker skin, and I agree. But I thought I already had a thick skin? Soon I fear this skin will turn into leather.

So what did I do, I called my good friend Wendy, who seemed to be having a hell of a day herself. Just as I had geared up to whine, complain, and sing the blues, she gave me this disclaimer: "If you are calling to bitch about your clients, I can't deal with that today."

Fair enough.

And sometimes, when it comes from the right person, that's what you need. A reality check.

In hindsight, yes the things that I was so upset were trivial. And yes, amidst the stupid annoying things that went down yesterday, some huge strides were made. And today was another day, full of opportunity.

So now that we've identified some of our awesome opportunties, we need to talk about threats, that's right Marketing Majors, its a full on SWOT analysis. Threats are things, people, thoughts, or habits that threaten your personal happiness, growth, or livelihood. And no that's not Webster's definition, that is the Project Peter Pan definition.

One of the biggest threats in my life is self-doubt. Sometimes I freak myself out so much that I lose sight of all the progress I've made or the accomplishments I should be proud of. It's a really sick game of constant "What If?" And it's a major waste of time. I get that, but its an addiction. So I've said it out loud, now I can start fixing it. This week, I'm going to focus on grabbing my balls (Figuratively) and quit doubting my abilities. I"m starting to sound like a gnarly self-help seminar, so I'll leave you with one last thought, repeat after me, "You can do it!"

QOD

Question of the Day. I've been thinking about QOD because many of my friends have embraced this cult hysteria that is Cross Fit, and all they talk about is WOD or Workout of the Day. I have no idea what that means, nor do I think I will ever step inside one of these Cross Fit Gyms...anywhere that carbs and grains are barred from their members, and words like "Paleo" replace good old fashion expletives is just not on my short list. When they come out with a gym where the bread and olive oil are within arm's reach of the treadmill, sign me up.

Holy Tangent. So Question of the Day. As we go through this process of growing up, we're faced with tons of questions big and small, and it's our goal to start posting them to see 1) If maybe you have the same questions or 2) You already came across that question and have a genius answer to it. Some of the questions will be deep, and thought provoking and others will be completely superficial, because like my mom tells all of her sixth grade students, "Yes, there is such a thing as a stupid question."

My question today is...In the timeline of your life, are your late twenties supposed to be dedicated to working your fingers to the bone? Because that's what I'm feeling lately, all of my friends between 25-30 are in these jobs that are super demanding, just hoping that it will pay off soon and they can then have time to get married, raise a family, LIVE life, enjoy things...So what do you think, is that what we're supposed to be doing?

Segue...pronounced SEG-WAY

So apparently I forgot to mention in my previous post that we have now moved on from the topic of "Getting Organized" to that of "Opportunities." The goal of this topic is for us to identify the myriad opportunities for success, growth, and fulfillment that we encounter on daily basis. In other words, we hope that this topic will help us to take off the proverbial blinders so that we can recognize that Random Guy from Law School # 2 asking us out for happy hour is a networking opportunity and not simply another thing keeping us from climbing into bed and catching up on "Lost."

So, in the spirit of opportunities…our next step is to give you guys an opportunity to be more involved with the blog. How, you wonder? Well, by instituting what we're going to call "Questions from Neverland." Basically, we're going to have new posts on a regular basis that introduce adulthood questions that one or more of us are grappling with at the time. It's a very communal way of wondering, "Is this normal?" We hope that your responses will not only help us with our various adulthood dilemmas but also incite interesting conversations among the responders.

First question: What is an adult way to deal with a fight with a parent/parents?

Go ahead, dazzle us with your wisdom. If we get no responses, we might get that "last kid picked for the kickball team feeling" (or as Wendy might identify with.."last Freshman picked for Phys Ed Volleyball Team Feeling")

Get talkin!

The Gifted Child

I am incredibly gifted. No, no don't leave yet - I promise I'm not totally conceited. See, I don't mean that I'm gifted intellectually, although I did endure years of gifted classes in my adolescence after completing a puzzle in record time when I was six (I SWEAR this was what was on the gifted test in first grade). See, although I'm no slouch in the smarts department, what I'm particularly gifted at is taking something that others would see as an opportunity and turning it into something terrible and fear-inducing. Basically, I am a big scaredy-cat.

For example, about two weeks ago I was asked by a senior associate at my firm if I wanted to travel to North Carolina to meet with a client. Of course I said yes - you ALWAYS say yes when a senior associate asks you to do anything. Immediately after saying yes, however, I began to freak out. There were SO MANY things that could conceivably go wrong. I could miss my flight and look irresponsible to the associate, I could embarrass myself in front of the client by not knowing what the hell I was talking about, I could forget to get some pertinent information and have wasted firm money, I could get lost in North Carolina and accidentally stumble into some Duke bar (shudder). See? So many AWFUL possibilities.

Eventually I got a grip and realized that this trip was not something to be feared, but something to be EXCITED about. I mean, as far as I know, I was the first first-year associate to get asked to go on a work trip. I mean, talk about an opportunity -sure, I could screw up, but I could also pull it off and look pretty rockstar.

So, I packed my bags and hopped on the plane...and everything went great! No flights were missed, no huge faux pas were made, nobody was disappointed. I survived. Plus, that little ball of fear and insecurity about my capabilities as a lawyer got a little smaller.

Final tally: Adult Baller Wendy: 1, Big Scaredy-Cat Wendy: 0. Gifted IN-DEED.

Divine Intervention

Most people wouldn't know that I am a Christian, but I am. I suppose that's not a good thing that most people wouldn't assume that about me, and I am working on it. However, I know a thing or two about answered prayers, and I had another spiritual encounter this week. This doesn't sound like it fits in with the conclusion of the "Getting Organized" series of posts, but it many ways, you'll see at the end of the story, it ties in.

In my PR company, my goal is to create a synergy among my clients and encourage them to work with and support each other. This was actually going along quite nicely until one client decided that another one of my clients' services were too similar to theirs and therefore created a conflict. They gave me an ultimatum, and told me to choose who I was going to represent. (A virtual "This town's not big enough for the both of us...")

For a few reasons I was conflicted. The aggressors are difficult to work with, technologically inept, demanding, and ultimately never satisfied, however it was steady income coming in from them each month, and I have gotten a few referrals from them. So I did something that I usually forget to do, and I prayed about it.

This was my prayer: "God, make this clear to me. Take the decision out of my hands. Send me a sign." (Really, I'm not kidding...as cliche as it is, that's what I said.)

Two days later, while in a text conversation with one partner in the aforementioned business, I received a text message from the other partner in the business. I quickly realized this text was not meant for me, but instead meant to go to the other business partner.

It read:

F*CK Tink! Don't event communicate with her. She's a bitch. She made her decision. Her and [the other client] can have a nice life!

Now keep in mind, there had been no decision made either way on which client I would represent yet--until then.

It was strange moment. A combination of relief that I had an out that didn't involve an awkward "It's not me, it's YOU" conversation, and a realization that "Wow, I asked God for something, and I got it." I mean it doesn't get more direct than that. I asked for a message, and got a text message.

I read a quote this week by Garrison Keiller that said, "God writes a lot of comedy...the trouble is, he's stuck with so many actors that don't know how to play funny."

Ain't that the truth. So what did I do, I laughed. Hysterically. And so did all my friends that I showed it to. We all had a great laugh at their expense.

So how does this fit in with Getting Organized? Well I started out by getting organized in the physical sense, and by the end of the process ended up with a succeedingly clearer mind, stronger vision, and deeper passion for my clients and my life. I know where I want to go; I know that I'll get there by protecting the integrity of what I've created, and approaching everyday with a sense of humor.

I mean if the big man upstairs is doing it, why shouldn't we?

Burning the candle at both ends...

What a total loser I am. I mean according to my last post, I should still be deep in the caverns of my filthy closet sending SOS signals from a makeshift telegraph machine.

Sorry to leave you hanging like that. The good news is, I actually DID organize my closet. I bought matching canvas shoe bins, got about 36 more hangers, did a little Roy G. Biv color schematic from left to right, and it was actually looking pretty sharp.

The bad news is that in the time between then and now, the closet is once again a disastrous reminder of my penchant for disorganization. Especially of the clothing varietal.

Again, no great excuse other than the the overwhelming success of my new business, and subsequent incredible demise of my social life! But I won't let this blog be like all of those beautiful diaries I bought throughout adolescence and wrote in only once. I'm back people, and I'm ready to grow up...not that the past weekend was any indication of that.

Is there a temporary respite from adulthood on holidays that basically demand the irresponsible, binge consumption of food coloring laden alcohol? I think so.

And if not, is there some sort of tablet that takes away the feeling that follows 3 days of irresponsible, binge consumption of food coloring laden alcohol? I hope so.

So I do have a lot more to write about organization and its benefits and also my take on being 26 so far (real asshole of an age), but right now I've got to focus on getting the green tinge off my teeth before work in the morning.

Organization: Fun? No. Important? YES.

Two posts in two days?! Who I am a power blogger?

Yes, I know this is out of character, but I feel kind of bad that Tink and I have given "organization" such short shrift. Why? Well, because I feel like getting/being organized is actually a really important part of adulthood. Really important. Like, really. I mean, I have one friend who told me that the defining "OHMIGOD I'm an adult" moment in her life was when she created a super elaborate filing system for all of her important papers, her passport, her insurance and tax records, etc. I have countless others who told me that they think remembering to pay all of their bills on time is a real mark of adulthood. Even people like me who came out of the womb making lists and checking them twice have to step it up now that they're real life adults.

No longer can we just throw away all of our receipts and count on our parents to pay our bills on time or remind us of our siblings' birthdays. We have to do it all OURSELVES. And it's daunting, it really is. I mean, I get like 8 bills a month - that's a lot of paper on my kitchen counter and a lot of dates to remember.

I think the only thing you can really do to tackle the organization monster is to be proactive: make that filing system, use an Outlook calendar and/or agenda, set up automatic debiting for bills that don't fluctuate too much, wake up a little earlier everyday and jot down that day's "To Dos," buy birthday cards whenever you're at CVS so you have them on hand when you inevitably forgot you old roomie's special day. I know it's not fun, but it's necessary...unless you want to be "that girl" whose cell phone is cut off because they didn't pay their bill. Trust me, you don't to be that girl.

PTI

I get these "PTI: Pardon the Interruption" emails where other attorneys are asking for some referral or information about 2-3 times a day at work. In these emails, the attorneys are usually apologizing for interrupting our very busy days. With this PTI, I'm not apologizing for that, but rather for the interruption in the blog posts schedule....seroiusly, where have we been??!!

I don't know about Tink, but I certainly do not have a very good excuse. I mean, other than, you know, just being busy with life. Anyways, my apologies.Now back to our regularly scheduled programming...

I did pretty good with my "getting organized" goals! I didn't hit them all exactly as written, but I think I totally fulfilled them in spirit.

1) I cooked for myself! Okay, so not three times like I wanted to, but I made one big meal and it served me 4 times - thank you Paula Dean and your easy chicken pot pie (seriously, try it, it's YUM-O).

2) I called my mom at least 3 times AND remembered my Dad's birthday. Go me- favorite daughter status for sure.

3) I did NOT wake up in the morning for the gym. Honestly, it is just TOO HARD. I am currently too addicted to BONES (David Boreanaz...SWOON) to go to bed before midnight, so the morning gym thing is NOT happening. However, I did go to the gym 5 times last week. And I lifted weights 2 of those times, so I'm thinking this is still a win.

4) Not sure I called any long-lost friends. However, I did buy 2 friends birthday gifts AND i hung out with some old college buddies in DC...so again, I'm thinking win.

So...what have I learned? Well, I guess I've learned that the act of SETTING some organization goals is at least 1/2 of the organization battle. Write down your commitment to organization (or, even better, tell it to a friend or parent) and you're definitely more likely to stick to it.

In other news, I'm traveling for work for the first time ever this week and I'm TERRIFIED. Seriously, so nervous. WHAT IF I RUIN EVERYTHING?!

Happy Birthday Tink!

Just wanted to take time out of another Manic Monday to say HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my best girl Tink! She really is the best friend a girl could ever ask for.


So Tink, I hope you've cleaned out your closet enough to be able to locate your best dancing shoes-party hat combo...because it's your birthday and you deserve a party!

xxx,
Wendy

Tangent: Adulthood: Not a fan.

I originally put on my list of Adult To Do's, Attending or planning a funeral. In our twelve month experiment, I never thought that would come to fruition during month two.

Please excuse the somber tone of this blog, but if we've learned anything from the initial pursuit of adulthood, it is to expect the unexpected, and also that adulthood is definitely not all rainbows and gummy bears.

Part of growing up is saying goodbye to people. That is just the cold hard reality of the fact that we are mortal, and we don't live forever, but I don't think anyone ever quite knows just how to deal with it, when death arrives on your doorstep.

So yesterday, I spent the majority of the day at my friend's mother's funeral. She died after battling cancer, which is coincidentally the same disease that took my own dad's life almost a year and a half ago. The differences in their funerals were overwhelming, my dad's on a Sea Ray in the middle of the ocean, hers in a catholic church bursting with people. She was survived by her two sons, and her husband that stayed by her side right up until the very last moment. I clenched my teeth as I saw them carry her casket, but it didn't stop the tears from coming--from me or anyone in the crowd. I saw my boyfriend cry for the first time since I've known him. I'm crying now as I write this.

Funerals are a reminder that death is inevitable. For the religious, they take some comfort in knowing that he or she is in a better place, but does that really fill the void? Does it keep you warm at night?

For me the most comforting thing about yesterday was that our friends filled 4 of those long wooden pews from corner to corner. People drove in from out of town, flew in from across the country, just to be there. Just to show that they really, truly cared. After the days events were over, we went to our favorite shitty bar, and played our favorite shitty drinking games. A sign maybe, that life goes on, and despite tragedy, you can still smile. And then we ate shitty pizza.

As I walked out, hand in hand with my boyfriend, and along side another couple, my friend said, before getting in his car to head back out of town, "You know what they say...when you get older, you only get together for weddings and funerals."

I think that made me cry the most.

Cleaning Out My Closet

I must admit "getting organized" is not a topic that I was initially drawn to. Why? Well, as Tink mentioned, I already am organized. In fact, I'm kind of OCD about organization. I am physically incapable of going to sleep with dishes in the sink, I unpack the very second I get home from a trip, and we've already discussed my penchant for agendas and scheduling.

So, since I'm pretty comfortable with my organization skills and my status as a bona fide neatnik, I thought I'd have nothing to add to this week's discussion except for some useful tips on how to be better organized.* However, I soon realized that I was thinking about this topic on too superficial of a level. Being "organized" is not simply about a having a neat underwear drawer and an elaborate calendering system. It's so much more than that; it's also about prioritizing, having a plan, and generally choosing to de-clutter your life. And on these fronts, I can certainly use some work.

For example, right now I'm having a hard time with work-life balance. It's not that I'm working sooooo much, because I'm really not. It's just that I don't understand how I'm supposed to go to the gym, cook a healthy dinner, catch up with friends, call my boyfriend, check in with my mom, work on the blog, AND sleep all when I get home at 8:00 at night. Right now the gym, the healthy dinner, and the check-in with mom are suffering the most - this week I had PBJ for dinner 2 times and called my mom 0 times. I definitely need to get my shit together.

So, here's the plan. This weekend/next week I will:

(1) Write a menu for next week that has me eating at least 4 home-cooked meals.
(2) Call my mom 3 times on the way home from work.
(3) Try to go to the gym in the morning at least 2 times (I've heard that people who go to the gym in the morning are more likely to stick to their gym schedules and it makes sense - so many things can come up by the end of the day that can make the gym seem unimportant/too much of a burden).
(4) Call at least 3 friends that I haven't spoken to in a while.

This checklist is out in the world now, which means I'll be held accountable (like Tink with her clost pic!). Feel free to post your own checklists of things you'd like to do and I promise that me and Tink will check in on you and nag you til you complete it!

*In case you do want some organization tips, there are MANY blogs on the subject. Here's a cool one:

http://www.thatsneatorganizing.com/blog/

Tangent: Real World Edition

I haven't had the time to think about my "Getting Organized" post yet. Why? Well because work has been pretty crazy and also American Idol has started and also I am thinking of dyeing my hair a different color and OMG there is too much to think about!!

So by way of diversion I thought I would tell you this funny little story. Be warned, you will feel old at the end.

The scene: A bar in Atlanta. Think Senor Frogs - frozen drink machines lining the walls and fratty guys lining the halls...you got it?

So I meet a friend there, sidle up to the bar to order a "JET FUEL" (score one for good decisions!) and who do I see? COHUTTA.

If that name doesn't mean something to you, I'm sorry, but we cannot be friends. See, Cohutta is number 1 on my list of the Top 3 greatest guys to ever appear on The Real World. Number 2, of course, is Danny from New Orleans (*swoon*). Number 3 = one of Cohutta's castmates from Real World Sydney, ISAAC... WHO WAS ALSO AT THE BAR!!!

Seriously, Cohutta AND Isaac! I almost peed myself I was so excited. I don't really know why - I mean, I know more than one person who has been on RW/RR. And not in an "I feel like i know them way," either. But anyway, I was pumped. So 2 or 3 more JET FUELS in, I decided to go up and talk to Isaac (not Cohutta...I was too scared b/c he's my fave). Here is the gist:

Me: Hi Isaac!!! You're like one of my favorite people from the Real World EVER!
Isaac: Oh yeah?
Me: Yeah! I love that you swam in the fish tank!
Isaac: Yeah...so, um how old are you?
Me: 26. You?
Isaac: 23

So there you have it. We are older than people on the Real World. I defnitely knew this before, in a vague way. But being face-to-face with someone from a show that I have watched since I was 12 and always thought the people on were so much older and finding out that, in fact, I AM THE OLD ONE, made it a terrible reality. BOO. Time to switch to PBS I guess.

Airing My Dirty Laundry

In the spirit of getting organized, I am going to split this into a before and after series of posts. It wasn't until I suggested the "Getting Organized" topic that I realized I was the only one in need of some serious organization. Apparently most people are actually overly-organized to the point of obsessive behavior. Not I, senorita.

I'm going to go ahead and put it out there that I am the "Messy Friend." You know that friend who has a ton of clothes all over the floor, tank tops and boxer shorts spilling out of their drawers, and can never find two of the same matching shoes? That's me. I am a mess. If a friend wants to borrow a shirt, I'm more than happy to hand it over, but it will more than likely be plucked from the bottom of a pile of dirty laundry.

I am very hesitant to do this, but in an effort to give you a full understanding, I've decided to sacrifice my dignity...and post a picture of the current state of my closet.



Ohhh, the shame! Thought of changing my name! (Lion King, anyone?) So in the most basic way, I need major organization.

But there are a few not so basic ways that my life needs organization too. For instance, my live-in lover and I had a very organizational talk the other night. (My best friend referred to it as a "Come To Jesus" talk...Not sure what that meant, but I liked it). We basically stated the state of the union, where we are going, and what needs to be fixed along the way. After that, I felt that my relationship was "organized." Or better yet, reorganized.

There are many things in my new business that need organizing. I need to nail down the outlines of a business plan, find out who we are targeting, and what our 6 month strategy for growth will be. (Admittedly, I probably should've done this BEFORE I started.)

I guess more than anything organization is a state of mind (and OK a state of closet too). If you have a clear picture of what needs to get done, it is much easier to achieve it. So now that you have all seen a picture of what I need to do, I am off to tackle the closet monster. If you don't hear from me in 72 hours, call the cops.

Sneak Preview

Here are the topics that will be rounding out the SELF section.

This week: Getting Organized (Personally, Professionally)

Next Week: Opportunities

Week 3: Threats

Week 4: Habits

Week 5: Priorities

If you don't know where you're going...how can you ever get there?

Wow that was deep for a Monday morning.

Number 9!

It appears that counting is not one of my strong suits, for I left out number 9 in my list of peeves!* Fear not, I have something to add. And that something is….motorcycles!

Yes, all you Harley afficionados out there should be thankful that I am not President (or a Senator). Because if I was, your loud obnoxious bikes would be banned from roadways. ALL OF THEM. FOREVER. There is nothing scarier to me than when I'm driving along, singing (really well), and some horrible hog races by me, IN MY LANE, going way over the speed limit. I've literally almost driven into other lanes because of this.

So there it is. Motorcycles, I hate you.

*The word "peeves" is really starting to appeal to me. I'm in the market for a dog, and while I am generally partial to old-fashioned human names for pets (Walt, Harold, Clyde, Norman), I'm thinking "Peeves" could also be fun…espescially if the dog is annoying and is added to the list!

Headbands like this?

A Woman Peeved

Today (like most days), I am peeved about a number of things: I'm peeved that the new pumps I bought yesterday appear to have the annoying side effect of making my toes numb, I'm peeved that Jake kicked Gia off the Bachelor (Vienna, really? WTH dude), I'm peeved that the amazing chaise I ordered in December is still not in my living room, etc, etc.


As you can see, I'm a pretty peeved person in general (the sunny smile I wear is a ruse). That being said, I don't think that I have too many "pet peeves." Essentially what this means is that I have a lot of little peeves, but none that are big enough to qualify as pets. Among my little peeves:

1) People eating off of my plate. If we have not decided, pre-order, to share, then we are NOT sharing.
2) On tv, when people end phone calls by just hanging up. Have tv writers never heard of this little phrase called "goodbye?"
3) People who want to be my best friend on airplanes. Also included, overly talkative taxi drivers and nail/hair techs. I'm not your friend and I don't want to hear about how finding God changed your life or your latest fight with your mom. I'm reading/sleeping/staring into space here - you do the same.
4) People who always change plans. I WROTE OUR PLANS IN MY AGENDA, you jerk.
5) People who don’t respect lines. When I was in China, I learned how much I LOVE lines and orderliness. Respect the line, people.
6) People who are too high and mighty for reality television. Honestly, reality television is a wide and diverse genre that encapsulates both crap (A Shot at Love, Bad Girls Club, Dog Whisperer, anything with Rachel Ray) and geniosity (Amazing Race, SYTYCD, House Hunters, Project Runway on Bravo, Teen Mom). You can no more say that you hate all reality television than you can say that you hate all dramas.
7) Along the same lines (sort of) people who scoff at me for purchasing tabloids. Yeah, like I need YOUR judgment, Publix checkout guy.
8) People who are too cool to remember my name and that we have met 16 times before. I sat behind you in a class. We spoke numerous times. YOU ARE SO RUDE.
10) Girls who wear obnoxious headbands. You're not Blair Waldorf, get over it.
11) Talking politics at inappropriate times. Look, I worked for two senators and still harbor dreams of being a senator or a lobbyist one day myself. I love politics and government. Just not at a football tailgate. Keep your "Gators for Palin" pins at home.
12) Salespeople at stores. Please stop asking if you can help me or get me a dressing room. I'm fine, and you're crowding me.
13) When people don't change the toilet paper roll all the way (like they leave the new one on top of the used one). Is just changing it so hard?
14) People who went to/go to/like Syracuse. Eew. Also, your mascot is a fruit.
15) Girls who wear high heels to EVERYTHING. We're at a study session, ladies. Unless you have a date after this, take off the pumps.

Whew. So many peeves, so little time.

Happy Valentine's Day

I'm very busy munching on Sweethearts (yes, those chalk-like candies that you used to give out with your Gem valentine's cards back in 2nd grade- LOVE EM), but I thought I'd take the time to post some fun links for you all on this most commercial and cliche of holidays:

For those of you that hate valentine's day but love dolphins: click

For everyone that loves Pauly D (me, me, me!): tap

For those of you that SERIOUSLY hate this holiday and need a big pick-me-up, do not hesitate for even an instant: go

For those of you still in need of a gift: hit

For those of you staying in tonight, romantic movie that both sexes approve of: here

...and romantic dishes to serve: here


Enjoy!

Raisin Hell

Greetings Never Never Land! It’s me, Rufio. Feel free to chant that if you’d like. (I do.)

In true first-entry fashion, I suppose I should disclose a little bit about myself to give you a basis for judgment. But, I’ll make it short and sweet because it’s Pet Peeve week, and talking about myself isn’t nearly as fun as broadcasting a complaint.

Where to begin, where to begin…

A/S/L. Despite the masculine name and profile picture of a tweenaged boy, I am in fact, a chick. Referring to myself as a “lady” or “woman” doesn’t sit well with me quite yet. Maybe it will when if I grow up. A child of twenty-five, I currently reside in Washington, D.C. and cruise in the slow lane on the road to adulthood. I’m an exhibitionist by trade (exhibition coordinator by title) for a company where people take me seriously, I think.

My maturity level has significantly digressed over the passed year, due to the fact that I’ve become a boomerang, of sorts… moving back home with my parents (“temporarily”)… playing with old childhood friends on the weekends… rekindling an old flame with an Ex from five years ago. (Note: It’s long distance, meaning every night I get to lock myself in my room at my parents’ house and talk to him on the phone. Jealous?) Basically, I’ve been living in my own slightly modified version of Never Never Land.

In all honesty though, I’ve got it all together… just not quite figured out.

Speaking of irritating situations… it’s Pet Peeve time! (Weak segue, I know.)

The winner of the coveted title as my biggest pet peeve is… Ordering something off of a menu that comes out COVERED in an ingredient that was NOT listed in the description. Sounds stupid, but hear me out…

Most people have an ingredient that they’re not particularly fond of. For me, that ingredient is the raisin. I loathe raisins, and handle my detest for them much like I handle my detest for everything else. Avoidance. A simple tactic made difficult thanks to raisin-censored menus. Instead, I get sucker-punched when my “Yogurt and House Made Granola” arrives drowning in a sea of raisins, and ruins my appetite.

The worst part, is that there’s simply NO effective way to remove raisins from a dish once they’ve been added. Especially if the intruders are baked in. It’s a done deal, leaving me with no other choice but to send the raisin-clad dish back… though it pains me to do so.

If only the menu had included raisins alongside ALL of the other ingredients in the dish, I could’ve simply chosen something raisin-free. Crisis averted. A solution so simple that it makes the situation all the more frustrating. Thanks for letting me vent, I feel much better.

Bangarang,

Rufio

Mr. Technorati

Here's your token: CQKEWPVFHMF3. Bring on the followers.

Cheer Fear Volume 2: The Resolution

First of all, doesn't that sound like the title to an amazing movie based on murderous, possibly zombie cheerleaders -- kind of like R.L. Stine's seminal classic saga "Fear Street Cheerleaders?" It does. Also, I would totally see that saga -- Ari Golds of the world, get on it!

Anyway, as you guys know, this weekend I went to a cheerleading competition in order to face one of my fears. Let me just tell you, this competition was AMAZING. These girls were young, bouncy, shiny, sparkly, and athletic. I have never felt so old - well, except for that one time my law school roommates and I called the cops on our neighbors for having a party...on a Friday night...in the summer (yes, we are AWESOME and ADULT, I know, thanks).

So I got to the competition and battled my way through throngs of tiny cheerleaders in oversized bows and GAGA makeup. And I proceeded to watch about 30 minutes of the competition before I even attempted to call my coach. Seriously, I was so nerdy. I was legit nervous to call him - as if he were a guy I was asking out on a date. SO LAME.

After hemming and hawing for a while, the cheer gods helped me out and I spotted Ernie in the crowd - and then awkwardly did NOT go up and say Hi. Yep, I continued to stand alone. LAME.

Finally, though, I mustered up my courage and went to talk to him....and it was awesome. We talked all day. He asked about my life and what I'd been up to since leaving his charge at age 18, he wanted my advice on his plans for the future, he talked to my mom on the phone and he bragged to his new cheerleaders about my successes...it was like hanging out with a really good friend. And that night, when I left, he told me he was so happy to see me.

Needless to say, I pretty much floated out of that competition. It was SO, SO nice to have a day like that with someone that I pretty much revered throughout all of my teenage years.

This post seems pretty self-indulgent, so to make it fit the theme, here's my takeaway: it's fine to put some people on a pedestal, just make sure the pedestal's not too high, for if it's so high that they become unreachable you can't have a relationship with them....and isn't that the point?

Consider Me Peeved.

This week we are talking about Pet Peeves. Why? Because we said so. That's why. It's a fun semi-related paralell to the Who Am I, What Do I Stand For theme we have going on this month.

I was also planning to wait until I got home, but I am currently sitting in my office (Panera) and the moment struck. I simply couldn't resist. The man sitting across from me was a combination of my pet peeves IN THE FLESH. The true embodiment of all that is nails on a chalkboard to me, was literally within 5 feet of my being. Little did he know, I was not trying to receive better cell phone service, but instead stealthily trying to snap his photo and thus immortalize this jerk-off forevemore.

I choked, thought he knew what I was up to, and got blur. Sorry for the major anti-climax. But just to give you a visual: Take Ray Romano's brother in Everyone Loves Raymond, shrink him to a normal human height, add a mustard sport coat, a Brooklyn Accent, and a smoker's rasp. Are you in love yet?

The reason he inspired the pet peeve post was his above-normal public space cell phone volume. He came here, I suppose, to take advantage of the free Wi-Fi, and break the concentration of every semi-employed dilligent individual trying to concentrate in a 4 mile radius. Same reason I come here.

He was talking on his cell phone about what I can only assume was people that had defaulted on their mortgages, that he had sold them. Which highlights pet peeve numero dos, pushy sales people. I've been in sales, I get it, and therefore reserve the right to never put up with their wierd, manipulative, guilt-inducing tirades EVER. Not with car salesmen, advertising salesmen OR women, product peddlers, or those freaks at the mall that want to polish my fingernails or clip in a fake ponytail. I fell for that once and it won't happen again. (And yes, I bought $125 worth of synthetic hair, but that was back when I was bartending, and I actually made a decent living.)


Which brings me to Peeve Number 3: Entitlement. Just get over yourself. You're a nobody like the rest of us until you prove otherwise. So much ego stroking these days, let's just cut to the chase. Work harder, earn respect, don't just expect things to fall into your lap. Accrue karma, do for others, don't just sit by the phone and expect a call from Diane Sawyer to request an interview, tell you what a great job you are doing, and how amazing you are.

Still on the entitlement front, just switching gears: Large people in small clothes. Who are you to be wearing that? For the love of god, no one wants to see your fat ass packed into tight pants (and leggings...just avoid all together) or your naval-indent through your tiny Polo. I can hear it now: "Sure that's easy for you to say, you skinny bitch." And for the record, I am average weight, and I have a plethora of sexy plus-size friends that know how to dress in clothes that accentuate their body type, rather than make a mockery of it.

Moving on. This is almost too much fun, and I fear that I could write forever.

Repeating Noises. Anyone who knows me well enough, especially my loverboy, will tell you this. Anything that repeats for more than let's say 10 seconds, I have to make it stop. Blinker noises in your car. The sound a forklift in Home Depot makes when it is reversing. Alarm clocks from the upstairs apartment. A leaky faucet. I don't consider myself an anal person, but repeating noises are the mental equivalent of Chinese Water Torture for me. I can't.

I'm trying to wrap this up, so I'll just give you a quick listing of the rest, minus the witty banter. Belts in belt loops on girls. People that make plans and cancel at the last minute. When people meet you time and time again and don't remember your name (THIS IS HUGE). People that constantly have a new scheme. When people ask a question, then don't listen to the answer. When normal words are misspelled for no reason (Kwik instead of Quick)(Kash instead of Cash), the way Jerry Seinfeld looks like he is always laughing at his own jokes, and last but not least people that wear enough perfume to kill a horse. Because...wait for it, two of them just sat down next to me. You smell like a baby prostitute...and what is that beeping???

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood...

...And I? I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.

I haven't posted in a few days, and the guilt finally got to me. I registered my first LLC last Wednesday, and the reality that I am a new business owner has started to set in. And by reality, I of course, mean panic. It's hard to describe the freedom that comes along with starting your own company. On one hand, you feel at liberty to make your own hours, use whatever tone you'd like in an email, and ultimately do whatever you want. But on the other hand, you're also a prisoner to it. I had guests in town this weekend, and the anxiety that set in over the fact that my BlackBerry died during a 4 hour beach excursion really took the fun out of things. And I got a sunburn.

I guess this is one of those "rise to the challenge" moments in life that you hear so much about, and to borrow a phrase of Wendy's, I'm standing at the gates. The fun part is, that I never really thought this would happen this year, while we were simultanesouly embarking on Project Peter Pan, so it actually is pretty serendipitous. I love that word.

To keep you abreast of what's happening with the new company (which by the way does PR and Events): We signed our first client last Friday. I have three meetings today, and will hopefully have 3 new clients by the end of the day. If I sign two clients this week, I will be making more money than I did at my prevoius job per month. I just wanted to lay a little groundwork so you can follow the progress (or failure) as we go. It should be very exciting for everyone, provided I don't crash and burn and have to move back in with my mom and her two chihuahuas.

I realize this post was more expository than reflective, but alas...there is a point. This road to adulthood, no matter how much we plan for it, is sure to surprise you at points. And when those curve balls come, its not about throwing your hands up in defeat, but instead sacking up and making lemons into some tasty beverage. (Wow, it's a cliche landslide!) So as I duck, dodge, dip, and dodge (Dodgeball fans?) around these obstacles in adulthood, there are also a few random things I would like to accomplish and/or I think would qualify me as an adult. I've taken the liberty of compiling a list...

1. Make a good decision.
2. Start something, then finish it.
3. Think before you speak.
4. Prioritize your life.
5. Become independent...financially or otherwise.
6. Forgive someone.
7. Go to your friend’s wedding and behave like a human being.
8. Get Botox.
9. Buy a house. (Or just first, last, and security on a rental on your own)
10. Exceed expectations at work.
11. Tell your parents you love them.
12. Plan/attend a funeral.
13. Follow a dream.
14. Do something you’re afraid of. (For me that would be giving blood)
15. Get an HIV test.
16. Take time for yourself.
17. Care for someone.
18. Choose a cause to support.
19. Choose an (educated) stance on religion.
20. Start saving for retirement, know the difference between a traditional IRA and Roth IRA.
21. Do something to make the world a better place.
22. Maintain a monogamous relationship.
23. Invest in youth preserving products.
24. Dump one of your friends.
25. Abandon reckless behavior.
26. Obey the speed limit.
27. Win an argument rationally.
28. Recycle.
29. Pick out baby names.
30. Say you’re sorry, even when you know you’re right.
31. Have patience.
32. Comparison shop.
33. Stay in on a Saturday night.
34. Learn something about your ancestors.
35. Take in a stray (animal or friend).
36. Tell the truth when a white lie would be so much easier.
37. Teach an old dog a new trick.
38. Pray
39. Love someone more than you love yourself.
40. Sing in the rain.
41. Wear sunscreen.
42. Play BINGO.
43. Be alone and be OK with it.
44. Organize your sock drawer.
45. Have a yard sale and/or donate to GoodWill.
46. Have a huge fight with a sibling, and find a resolution.
47. Be a shoulder to cry on.

47 is kind of an odd number, I guess I could've gone the distance and went for 50. So as we go, these are the things that I am going to try to incorporate into my journey. We encourage you to make a list of your own, and if you don't feel too violated, post it as a comment.

Also, our next topic is Pet Peeves, which I am so excited to write about. If anyone wants to chime in on this topic, please let Wendy or I know, we would love to introduce some guest bloggers, and or recurring characters to the project. (I mean there are plenty of Pan aliases left...)

Lots of love, and thanks to our 9 followers. I feel like a rockstar. Granted more like the Mamas and the Papas reunion tour type of rockstar, but nevertheless a rockstar.

Cheer Fear

Guess what peeps? I'm facing one of my fears! In the process, I will also try to overcome one of those pesky weaknesses I mentioned the other day. How, you ask? By going to a cheerleading competition of course.

Some background: I am a cheerleader. Well, technically I'm not a cheerleader right now, at this moment (unfortunately my law firm is lame and does not have a cheerleading team). But I used to be. I of course cheered for my middle school, high school, and college sports teams: Go Cougars, Raiders, and HOYAS! But my biggest love, by far, was cheering with my all-star team. All-star teams are those teams you see occasionally on ESPN: they're made up of girls wearing uniforms no bigger than a bathing suit, copious amounts of glitter, and bows bigger than their heads. These girls, ridiculous as they may look, are some of the best athletes around.

My all-star team was, in a word, BADASS. In one year we won five national championships and two state titles. When we walked into the competition arena, people stared. Being on that team was like being famous. But that fame only came because of our hardwork. We practiced Tuesdays and Thursdays from 8:30- 11:30 at night and Sundays from 12:00 - 8:00. In a rundown gym in Miami. WITH NO AIR CONDITIONING. These practices were beasts of a workout: tumbling on concrete, stunting until our hands bled, running laps forEVER…it was rough. And it was all lorded over by Ernie - our coach and sometimes tormentor.

Although Ernie was tough on us (REALLY tough sometimes), all of us loved him. I'm pretty sure most of us would've walked through fire for him. A lot of the girls were really close with Ernie - after all he was only about 25 or so, it wasn't like he was so adult. But even though I loved him, I was never too close with him. Why? Well, because of that dastardly fear of authority. I was never able to talk to him, even though I probably spent more time with him than I did with my own father.

All of that changes this weekend. See, Ernie is bringing his new all-star team to a competition in ATL this weekend and I've already contacted him to let him know that I'm here and want to see him. Gotta admit I'm kinda nervous…. But I'm totally gonna call him and meet up at the competition. C'mon fear of authority…BRING IT ON.*

*Sorry, I had to. You don't get a say, this is not a democracy, IT’S A CHEEROCRACY.

Wah Wah Weaknesses

So is it obvious yet that one of my weaknesses is procrastinating? I'm sure it is, since in my strengths post last week I signed off by saying that I'd post about my weaknesses TOMORROW. Eek. Boo to me for making you guys wait.

Yes, it's true, procrastinating is certainly up there on my list of weaknesses. I've been known to put off 10-page term papers until 8pm the night before they're due (or later if SoapNet is playing one of those sure-to-suck-you-in America's Next Top Model marathons). But usually these papers turn out great, allowing me to use the procastinator's most favoritest motto ever aka "I work better under pressure."

So, aside from being solidly docked at procrastination station, what other weaknesses do I have? Well, unlike Tink, I'm not an asshole. I am, however, a brat. A big one. I like to get my way, I HATE when people change plans on me (even if they have a good reason), and I don't like sharing - of clothes, friends, blankets, the remote, or attention. I definitely need to reign this in, because at this point in my career, I'm a cog...and people don't appreciate bratty cogs. Also, the boy toy hates it when I go ballistic over moving our dinner plans back an hour.

What else? Well, like Tink I also have a problem with authority. However, my problem is that I'm TERRIFIED of authority figures. This served me relatively well as a kid: I never got in trouble at school and my parents thought I was perfect so they never suspected I was sneaking out with handles of vodka to get drunk with Tink. However, as I've gotten older I've realized that this super odd fear of authority figures is holding me back: I was never close with my professors (making it hard for me to get recommendations even though I did well in school) and I currently have no mentors in my profession.

Another weakness I have is that I'm super sensitive. Seriously, my feelings get hurt so easily, its ridiculous. Along the same lines, I'm terrible at accepting criticism and get super defensive when people try to tell me I did something wrong...sometimes I even cry about it. TERRIBLE!

Also, I hate when people get mad at me and am willing to do pretty much anything to make sure they don't. I used to be much worse about this - at one point in college my ex-boyfriend tried to get me to go an entire night without apologizing. I lasted like 30 seconds...and then I apologized for apologizing! As you can probably imagine this weakness served to make me very easy to manipulate - most of the friends I had in high school pretty much walked all over me. I don't blame them though, I was kind of a doormat. While I've certainly gotten better at this, I still do a lot of things just to please other people and I don't stick up for myself nearly enough.

Finally, and this one is pretty much something only the girls will get, but whatever, I am way too harsh on my body. Like most girls I know, I hate my body (or parts of it)...and objectively, my body's pretty damn great. I know that it is, and yet I still can't help myself from bitching about it alot and letting the fact that I "feel fat" ruin a perfectly good day at the beach or the mall. BOO.

Well, there you have it. This was super cathartic.

Strength and Honor.

Good evening, folks.

So as promised, the follow up to weakness portion of the task this week. Now I'm here to talk about my strengths, which to be honest, I'm pretty stoked about.

Talking about myself has always been a favorite past time of mine, and now to tell you all the things that I am really good at and really proud of, well that's just a dream assignment to me.

To start off, I want to preface this post with the information that I ran a half marathon this morning. That's 13.1 miles for the couch potatoes out there. I didn't train (which I don't recommend) but I finished it, and I am damn proud of myself. As a result, I feel like a rheumatic old woman who can barely move and walks with her back bent at a permanent 45 degree angle. And the good news is that I will feel even worse in the next two days.

And that make a nice segue into my strengths. First off, If I say I'm going to do something, even if I'm not totally prepared or ready, I'm going to do it. What I find now, especially in business, and even in friendships, people just do a lot of talking, and not a lot of doing. And for anyone out there guilty of this vice, I have one message: Talk is cheap. I've done a lot of talking in my day, but 10 times out of 10, I follow through. No one thought I would sell everything and move to New York City, and 3 months later, I was there. For anyone that doubted I would get my own business started, it's done. I back it up, and I don't just mean a great dance move.

Another strength is that I am fearless. Not that I have no fears (open water, heights, NEEDLES, Perez Hilton), but when I approach most situations, social or professional, although I am aware of the possibility of embarrassment, failure, or saying the wrong thing, it never holds me back. I always dive in head first, which to be honest has burned me a time or two. But with those odds, I'm going to keep at it.

Lastly, this is the answer that I would give in a job interview. I'm creative and resourceful. Creative because I can create a concept from scratch that no one has ever done before, resourceful because I can pull it off with zero budget. So on a professional level--that's where it's at.

Admittedly, I have a lot of ground to cover this year, but ultimately I think I have a pretty good foundation, and on Wendy's Strength Vs. Weakness-O-Meter, I think I register on the strong side. But I'll keep thinking about it as I pile on the Icy-Hot and polish my finisher's medal.