It’s been awhile. I know. Whatever. Get over it.
I havent slept in 3 days… I think it’s Wednesday?
Today is my last college class. EVER.
Yup — I actually pulled this shit show off.
Ok. I need to study or some shit I guess
Let’s be honest here, we all fall into that puppy love, goo goo gaa gaa state over some guy and totally put our friends on the back burner of life. After spending days, weeks, months, or even years with a guy, there’s a possibility you might run into that “oh shit” moment when the clock strikes midnight, and the man you thought was prince charming turns out to be the biggest tool you have ever met. Times like these are when we need our friends…
Guys will come and go, but your girlfriends will always be there for you.
Hell yea, I love a good pair of shoes, who doesn’t? Life is too short to live without a great pair of pumps…. you’ll not only look like you know the rules of feminism, but you’ll be a few inches above everybody .. literally and figuratively. When it comes to shoes, cost is never a concern. Do you think the designers at Manolo Blahnik say to themselves while designing their latest creation, “Oh, we’re going to have to use cheaper material, there are women who won’t be able to afford these…” FUCK NO. They reason like the rest of women in thinking that shoes are not things you want, they are things you NEED…regardless how many times you slip them on your beautifully pedicured feet. Stop asking yourself, “When will I ever wear these?” and start thinking
“I’ll make a reason to wear them.”
I mean shit, look at Cinderella, a new pair of shoes changed her life.
We have all had a Mr. Big in our lives. It doesn’t necessarily have to be a man who constantly comes and goes; it could end up being a friend, colleague, professor (Probably not the smartest idea). Regardless if it’s a friend, a lover or whatever, we’ve all encountered a person like this, and if you haven’t, brace yourself because it’s coming. Love is a ridiculously complicated word that has a shit ton of different meanings. This meanings evolve as we age (Or don’t age. Hello? Botox?!) But one thing I learned from Carrie is if you love someone, and I mean REALLY love someone, don’t give up on them.
If you have an awesome ass job that pays a shit ton of money, don’t be ashamed of that! All I have to say is, girl you should be damn proud of that! You put the time and effort into succeeding in YOUR life. DO NOT feel bad because your man does not make as much as you. It’s not his fault you’re naturally amazing and some men are even turned on by this. A housewife isn’t “being” something, its “doing” something and to “do” something, you have to “be” something first. There is absolutely nothing wrong with a woman owning the fact that she’s the bread winner.
Can you say “Stay-at-home-Dad?”
If you do not have a great love, then have a lover. After being in a few relationships I’ve learned that being in a relationship isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be. I’ve come to the realization that I’m too young to be tied down, but too old to be celibate. Let your inner Samantha Jones come out, and be fabulous. Do who you want, when you want, whenever you want. And if you’re not satisfied with your lover, find a new one.
Just remember there’s this thing called STD’s
and that’s something you WILL NOT be satisfied with…
My parents always tell me that college is the time to do things I wouldn’t normally do. Their idea of “stepping out of my comfort zone” is joining mathletes or some weird shit like that. My idea is getting fucking wasted every weekend. But what SITC has taught me about drinking is that it never goes out of style. So, let’s toast to Mexi Monday, Twisted Tuesday, Wacky Wednesday, Thirsty Thursdays and then the all mighty “Weekend.”
As a little girl I have always had this master plan to graduate college, get a job, get married, have babies, and live in Cape Cod on the ocean. But (Yes, there’s a “but”) sometimes you have to let go of those visions and accept reality. Charlotte has taught me that the idea of a perfect husband isn’t always perfect. You can’t force it, and you can’t pretend to see what you want to see. This wouldn’t be so much of an issue if David Beckham would just show up at my front door, but the right man will come into our lives when it is meant to be. I’ll be waiting Beckham….
Carrie, we love you, but shut it. Let a girl dream.
Would you settle on a pair of shoes because they are “OK?” The answer better be no. If you don’t settle on a pair of shoes, then why would you settle on a man? If you’re dating someone who has no aspirations in life, and no motivation, then sweetie you need to wake up and smell your Chanel perfume. Even though Samantha is a crazy sex addict (amen to her), she knows what she wants. She doesn’t settle for any man that doesn’t meet her expectations. It’s better to be single, then be with someone that isn’t the “the one”.
If you’re in a relationship and you’re not smiling anymore, you need to let go. Sometimes, relationships are not meant to work out. It takes an incredibly strong person to know when the ride is over. No, I’m not talking about your ride “reverse cowgirl” style, I’m talking about the ride you predicated to take on your “five year plan.” Every girl has one of these. Whether it’s meeting Mr. Right, getting married, and having kids or graduating college, becoming a billionaire and along that road keeping your options open … we all have these plans. Throw it all out the window. Fate is not a real thing. Sorry. Nobody will be more disappointed than yourself when five years down the road, you realize that you should’ve ended the relationship back when it was acceptable to be on Tinder. Match.com requires money and a personality. I’m assuming you will have neither at that point, since being in a bad relationship sucks the life and (hundred) dollar bills right out of you to compensate for your latent emotions. Close the sucky relationship door and lock it and delete/block his number. Learn from all the women on SITC, when one chapter ends, another one begins. You are the writer to your own life, so write the story you want.
Rock what your mama gave you. Never forget that you are who you are, you can’t pretend to be someone who you are not. All the make-up in the world will not make you a different person, it makes you a cake-face-crayola-crayon. Don’t deny who you are to impress others. We all buy a ton of shit we don’t need (but we really do need the newest pair of Loubiton pumps) to impress people that don’t mater. So buy the shoes YOU want, and date the men YOU want, and drink however many drinks YOU want, and screw anyone that judges you.
Amanda is a Disney Princess loving, wanna be Blair Waldorf, OCD freak that would rather be sunbathing on the beach. Her guilty pleasures include watching The Bachelor every Monday night, One Direction, and WAWA Slurpee’s. If she isn’t doing, consuming, or dreaming about any of that cool stuff, she’s probably just busy being a student at Rowan University.
Check here out here: www.linkedin.com/pub/amanda-kuster/85/932/192
Check me out here: http://www.linkedin.com/in/taylorcohen1/
Send me a tweet! @whatiknownoww @ttayl0r
#WhatYouNeedToKnow about friends, cutting them off, & your twenties…Bitchy Blair Style
Political debates are fun, but the people in attendance are not.
This requires a quick story to explain my new gained knowledge on political debates…
So, I volunteered for my honor society at the senate debate last Wednesday involving
I was briefed on the rules and etiquette of a political debate beforehand.
One of which is not permitting anyone in the audience to wear material that supports or opposes either candidate.
(I italicized that because its important … in case you didn’t catch my drift)
With that being said, as I sat down I noticed two (teenage) boys had managed to get into the debate with tshirts on supporting a specific candidate (of whom I won’t mention so that as you read this there is no bias).
I POLITELY (key word: politely) asked the two teenage boys to remove their shirts for the duration of the debate.
There were please and thank-you’s involved and even a “sorry for the inconvenience” mention was included.
As soon as the words left my mouth a group of older (mid forties) men and women looked at me like I was the spawn of Satan and ignorantly asked, “Do you work here or something?”
Hm, “Do I work here or something?”… Belittling question, I agree.
So, instead of stooping down to the ignorance of these audience members, I held up my badge (pictured above), grinned, and quietly sat down. That was that.
…OR SO I THOUGHT…
The debate starts and everything went great. It was an exciting educational experience with lots of very important people in attendance (yes, I brought my business cards this time…).
Once the debate ended I began to grab my belongings and felt a slight tug at my blouse from behind me.
I turned around to see one of the women glaring at me the same way my mother glared at George W. Bush supporters. Her finger was already pointed at me as if she was ready to blame me for the shutdown of our government and I’m 100% positive I saw steam coming out of her ears (okay, okay, So I’m exaggerating there just a bit, but if it was biologically possible for steam to come out of her ears … there would have been steam coming out of her ears).
Before I could even yell, “HELP I’M BEING PHYSICALLY ATTACKED BY A CRAZY WOMEN”, she promptly asked me,
“I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name earlier when you held up your little badge.”
Except, she wasn’t sorry. She was cocky.
and here is the one part where the crazy lady is right: my name wasn’t even on the badge.
Now, before I tell you what happens next I should tell you (if you haven’t figured this out already) I am overly sarcastic and sometimes people just don’t understand my sarcasm, nor think it’s as hilarious as I do.
With that being said, I replied “Why do you need my name, don’t you have your own?”
(I know, I know, hilarious!)
Crazy lady did not like this. She stuck her skinny little pointer finger in my face and told me that she thought I was rude.
This is the part of the story where I get completely confused and I’m sure you will as well.
“How was I rude ma’am? I kindly asked the young boys to remove the shirts and thanked them after doing so. I apologize if you feel that way, but in no way, shape, or form did I intend to come off as rude.”
WELL, WELL, WELL, crazy lady didn’t know what to say to that so instead she decided to start using some profanity…
“YOU STUPID BITCH, SHUT UP!”
Now mind you..I’m here at my University, representing my school, here for an educational experience and crazy lady over here is just ruining everything for me OVER A DAMN T-SHIRT.
YES PEOPLE, AGAIN, THIS IS OVER A T-SHIRT!
So I felt the need to ask her, “Ma’am” (because the name crazy lady didn’t come to me until later on that evening after I digested what had happened), do you see any other people in attendance with t-shirts or posters supporting their political party..no you don’t, because I helped usher people into the auditorium and I personally made sure that everyone was following protocol.”
Well, crazy lady did not like that. Crazy lady told me that it is a part of our Second Amendment right (that’s the one about gun control) that allows her to wear her shirt if she pleases. Actually, crazy lady it’s your First Amendment, but it’s ok I figured you weren’t educated properly anyway considering you can’t even follow the proper etiquette of a debate. This was followed by more of her profanity and her explanation on how I’m, “Never going to go anywhere in life.” I quickly yelled for the police (standing in ear shot) , asked for her to be removed, and to be shown where the free speech zone was located outside.
Agreed Mr. Ron Burgundy, Agreed.
(oops, did I just say that?)
the t-shirt reads: “The Second Amendment Protects the First Amendment”
this must have been where crazy lady got her amendments mixed up …
This is important not just in this situation but in life. Every time I stoop down to someone else’s level I never end up looking like the intelligent one or feeling like the winner winner chicken dinner. Keep your composure, your wits, and your mouth in tact. Crazy lady wanted to make me feel small. She wanted to make me feel unimportant. She wanted to make me feel like my job or education was in jeopardy.
I have to say Eleanor Roosevelt was on point.