I might as well put it out there that I may very well occasionally be eight going on eighteen. I probably consume far too much coffee and far too little chocolate. I refuse to carry umbrellas and I haven't the foggiest idea how to use nail polish. Now that confessions are over - I'm glad you're here.
14. People are a lot more open to the idea of ingesting something called “Nutritional Yeast” after a couple of beers.
According to Buzzfeed writers and burned-out corporate workers who have clearly already peaked, we’re living “The Best Years of Our Lives.” Now is the time when we’re supposed to be fulfilling all our crazy dreams, and crossing items off our bucket lists left and right, practically every Friday night. Let’s hear some of those items: Going bungee jumping? Traveling to Bali? Publishing our autobiography? Going vegan? All these Big Plans, that would probably also make a great post on Instagram. So we’re all walking around with these Dream Buckets that are partially filled, and someday real soon, something great will happen that will motivate us to pull something out of them and do it, right?
Some days, you like a challenge. Other days, you don’t want to struggle. Whether they’re hanging neatly in your closet, in a heap on the floor, or thrown over the back of The Chair, I know they seem like an insurmountable challenge right now.
Yes. I’m talking about putting on pants.
I have a lot to be grateful for. Okay, don’t you run off now! Shockingly, I’m not about to go off on some rant about hugging trees and offer you a puff of some “special spinach”. We don’t need to go off the deep end yet.
Reading clothing catalogs is always a confusing experience for me. Alice, from Lewis Carrol’s Alice in Wonderland once said “Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast. ” Well, give me a Forever 21 Catalog, and I can become 6 impossible people before my Snooze alarm goes off. Watch me. Becoming a different you is overwhelming. But sometimes, we all need a little “reinventing.”
11 Makeup Tips from a Model Scared of MACⓒ:
Your brows may be the one thing you can get in shape without heading off to Planet Fitness, but most people admire a girl who’s stronger than her eyebrows. There’s something gloriously old-fashioned and simple about waking up with your eyebrows already on your face.
The Daily Life Starter Pack. Meme-Free and hard to put your finger on. Although you probably shouldn’t try - that’s how we get Sexual Harassment suits nowadays. At once comforting and embarrassing. Yet, as impossible to deny as a video footage from last Friday night, and as permanent as a tattoo. What? No, nothing Mom.
I've been told once or twice that I could play Alice in Wonderland, and I guess we do have some things in common. We both have long blond hair. She falls down rabbit holes; I fall down the black hole that is Wikipedia. We both sometimes drink things we probably oughtn't. And, if her musing is true, then we're both expert-level when it comes to giving ourselves great advice and not actually following it. So... this is Late. I have no Very Important Date. But, dear Hypocritical Masha- here is a report card for you.
So, consider this a meek defense of the long-lost art of the phone call. Go read that motivational quote on Pinterest. Take a deep breath. Put on the coffee pot. Crack your knuckles- it doesn’t cause arthritis.
Phone calls. You got this.
Do you have hands? Excellent. That's a good start. Can you hold a pencil? Great. If you have a sketchbook, open it and start by making a line, a mark, wherever. Doodle.
- Chris Riddel
Hey! You!
Are you tired of feeling guilty? Tired of sitting at your desk, surrounded by a concerning amount of empty coffee mugs, fiddling with your pen, contemplating whether penguins have knees, and eyeing that Facebook tab? Dreading that Thing You REALLY Have to Do?
Well boy do I have news for you. It doesn’t have to be so hard! With the power of endless task-invention, you can lose the guilt FAST, and keep it off FOREVER.
With the power of endless invention, you, my friend, are FREE.
FREE to go check your email!
FREE to update your LinkedIn!
FREE to go clean your room! Who cares that it’s already more sterile than a horse mated with a donkey? Not me! You’re the one that’s acting like an ass.
You’re FREE to colour-code your Google calendar!
To check your email! Again!
FREE to go draw a Pinterest-Worthy habit tracker with a PENGUIN on it!
But wait, there’s MORE.
The power of endless invention comes with a Hundred-Percent Money Back Guarantee!
In the future, your credit card will get handed RIGHT BACK TO YOU! After it gets denied. Again.
And yet, I don’t really want to tell her anything. “Oh Honey” or not, she’s definitely a lot sweeter than I am. She knows how to train 5 hours a day and then come home and do physics homework. She spends hours teaching herself how to count cards. And she doesn’t say “Fuck” when she drops a pencil. She wasn’t afraid of having “stuff.” Besides, who on earth would want a 4’11’’ kid walking around spouting unenlightened wisdom everywhere? Sounds like a bloody nightmare. She’d be fun at parties.
Things I’ve always been itching to try, things I can’t get out of my head, desires that are hard to calm, those topics I want to jabber endlessly about to someone. Perhaps when desires stop being watery drops of sudsy, vague, unclear ideas that reside in a bucket and start being burning, impossible to ignore, occasionally frustrating itches, I’ll finally stop being so patient, and just scratch. A little Rash decision making is good sometimes.
As Masha walked to the subway station that morning, she realized that it’s been an awfully long time since she’d actually gotten a report card. And that’s a pity. In a way, I almost miss the adrenaline rush that came with handing over the Scary Manila Envelope to Mama and Papa, hoping to be deemed worthy of whatever science kit was the pinnacle of my desires at the moment.
So I figured I’d give myself one. Don’t worry, it’s 100% Serious and Legitimate. I used a red pen and everything. So, Masha, here it is. I’m handing this to you the same way I’ve slipped transcripts to my parental unit for years now: here’s the report, and here’s my personal disclaimer. Something about how the barometric pressure outside hasn’t been ideal for cognitive function. Maybe there have just been way too many Thursdays lately. You know, I’ve just been really, really busy.
“Her Lifelong Search to be an Extension Cord,” or “Her Craving to be Irreplaceable to Someone” don’t sound like descriptions of a novel that flies off the shelves or the story to a movie that sets box office records. But, as the love-triangle-avoiding protagonist, which in a non-dystopian world of padded resumes and knitting clubs, I’m afraid that’s as close to a “Quest for Belonging” that I’m going to get.
We’re all craving a “detox,” but maybe it’s not to cleanse our bodies of nonexistent “chemicals” or to throw our phones off the Empire State. Maybe we just need to dump a day’s, or a lifetime’s worth of Little Things onto something besides a motion sensor. It certainly sounds less attractive than “Green Goddess” or “Australia, Disconnected.” I won’t get any dates by telling my friends “I’ll be your liver.” That’s definitely not sexy. But I can tell them that I’m fine with them cleansing their day’s memories with me. So Hey. How was your day?
(Credit for cover photo goes to the very talented Todd Shaffer)
“I don’t think you understand. You want me to tell you when you’ll be sitting in your economics class. I’m trying to tell you I don’t know if I’ll let you stand up tomorrow. All I know about your future is that it comes one day at a time.”
I’m not a fan of saying words changed my life, but that one sentence truly did.
From that morning on, Masha (who probably liked 5-Year-Plans and little red planners as much as Mao) refocused the lens she used to see her future. I see “Today.” “Right now.” Usually a “Tomorrow,” but beyond that, who knows. I can tell you that today, at 5 PM, I’ll be writing, or doing Law homework. I can also tell you that “Next Month” pages in planners make me uncomfortable, no matter how much pretty lettering and how many stickers they’re decorated with.
So, let me extend my wing out to you - I’m still a permanently exhausted pigeon after all. We may as well be honest - this haphazardly creative wannabe-hyperproductive insomniac won’t be altering her habits anytime soon. If I have to be Tired all the time, fine. So be it. But I’d rather be TIRED because I TRIED. Not because I wasted my time exhausting myself by scrolling 6.19 miles through the “inspiring” and “mindblowing” information that I secretly despise. Apparently, mistakes are a sign that you’re trying. But I think my phone’s equating of “tired” with “trying” might be a mistake in itself. After all (if I’m lucky) I may someday be able to conceal the ever-present bags under my eyes and showcase the results of my work. Something tells me that showing off my thumb’s pedometer (while sipping at the 3-shot espresso I swear I need) won’t have the same effect.
I wouldn’t doubt I’ve had a day when I’d walk down the street feeling like the Real Cool Kid, listening to the Arctic Monkeys while wearing naturally-ripped jeans, slightly worn shoes and an unevenly smooth jacket. And then, I’ll check my phone for the right address, walk up to that big glass building, and instantly feel like a five year old whose only trip around the block has been on a tricycle. And maybe that’s okay. We all want to seem grown and tough and experienced, and yet, I don’t want to be like that fake-vintage, fake-leather bomber for $12.99 from Forever 21. For a while, I’ll sometimes be stuck being a little stiff. Awkward. Creasing in the wrong places and very very unsure if I’m doing all this right. And I guess that’s okay. I certainly can’t expect my friends and those I care about to all be Mature and Classy and Professional, and thank heavens for that. When worn in, leather will move and mold with your body. I’m sure my world will move and mold alongside me, while hopefully retaining a capacity for stupid nonsense that I know I’ll always have. Maybe it’s a good reminder to me to not be afraid to befriend those who have stood the test of time. We like the idea of worn-in, well-seasoned things: leather, denim, cast-iron. Tough material showing it can take a beating. Some day, if I’m lucky, I might be “Worn in a Really Cool Way,” but until then, I guess I’ll have to wear my unwrinkled novelty in the coolest way I can.
“Random Acts of Kindness” remind me a bit of another kind of “Random Act” that I perform all too often. Let’s call them “Random Acts of Productivity,” shall we? I’m sure you can relate, or at least I sincerely hope so. It may be 3 AM and that paper may be due in four hours, but suddenly I’m the Housecleaning Hero. My floor needs sweeping! That month-old email needs answering! I must check my stocks! My notebook sits unopened on my desk, but you’ll find me in the kitchen making effing quinoa salad for tomorrow’s lunch. I’ll feel great looking at my spotless living room for a few minutes. Maybe feel a little less guilty for wasting the entire day doodling. But, really, I’m just avoiding something. Random Acts of Procrastination.
