Blame The Angst On *NSYNC

"It's tearing up my heart when I'm with you. But when we are apart, I feel it too."

Call me crazy, but I don't think at the age of 24 I should still be emotionally identifying with these lyrics. As of recently, I have come to a self-awareness that I'm still as angsty and compelled by irrational emotions as I was at 15. Can you imagine a grown, successful woman, sitting in an office cubical, sobbing and blaring "Quit Playing Games With My Heart" by the Backstreet Boys? Honestly, you shouldn't have to. That is an image that NO ONE should ever have to see. However, that woman, may or may not have been me at one point in recent history.

There are many immature habits which I have yet to outgrow. For instance, ordering chicken fingers and fries at any sit-down restaurant, simply by default... (I get nervous when I look at menus.) But this gut-wrenching heartbreak pattern might take the cake and it's undoubtedly my most difficult bad habit to break. 

Just so you have an idea of the self-inflicting pain I speak of, when I was 16 and a boy hurt me, I wanted the world to know what I was going through, so I would sit in my room, blast some cheesey pop music and post an away message on my AOL Instant Messenger that would look a little something like this...

Fortunately, no one uses AOL Instant Messenger anymore. Unfortunately, Facebook has completely replaced our hours spent chatting online with pals. With this new form of socializing readily available on our iMacs, iPhones, and iPads and over 700 "friends" to "share" my personal life with, it takes all of my mental strength not to post lyrics, music videos, and pictures of myself looking adorably lovable on my page, so the world can see how hot I still look after someone has done me wrong.

The problem is subliminal messaging. Yes! I sure do believe in that crap, as firmly as I believe that Miss Cleo was a phenomenal cosmic power in the psychic world!

As a young naive girl, I can guarantee that 90% of my time was spent with headphones on, engraining the wise words of Justin Timberlake, Hanson, Backstreet Boys, O-Town, 98 Degress, etc. into my hormonal, puberty-stricken mind. Have you ever paid attention to the lyrics of these artists? At the time, I swore that these words spoke to my soul. "Baby when you finally get to love somebody, guess what? It's gonna be me." and "Where's the love? It's not enough. It makes the world go 'round." and let's not forget! ... "Am I original? Am I the only one? Am I sexual?" 

I mean honestly, come on guys... "Show me the meaning of being lonely." ?? ... What the heck does that even mean?! I'm thinking it means the skills of song-writers hit rock bottom in the late 90's and all the while, the lyricists of "Stairway To Heaven" and "Hotel California" were rolling over in their graves.

Here's my theory, I struggle with starting relationships, discarding emotional baggage, and picking myself up after ties have supposedly been severed because these boy bands told me that's how it's supposed to be. In the majority of their songs, the message being sent to the listeners is that when you fall in love, it's going to be with someone that sucks. And that is going to suck for you. And you're never going to get over it. And you're going to cry yourself to sleep at night, wishing that you never met this person, while at the same time thanking the heavens above that you did, because there just isn't anyone out there that could possibly break your fragile heart quite like they do. Because of these boy bands' stupid advice, we do irrational, psychotic, bat-shit-crazy things for our lover's attention, go after unattainable people, and refuse to let go when there isn't a shred of hope left in a relationship.

Ladies and gentlemen, love doesn't have to be this way. When you decide that you are ready to be committed to someone, it should be with someone who is considerate of your stereotypical-pop-culture-emotional instability, who takes this in high regards, and because of this awareness, won't do things to hurt your feelings. Quit wasting your time on The Selfish and patiently await the arrival of The Selfless.

Love should be simple: "You like me, I like you, we like each other, and ALAS! We are happy." 

End. Of. Story. 

Forget the lyrics, forget the gut-wrenching drama. If it's keeping you up at night because you have knots, not butterflies, in your belly, it's time to let it go.

Here's one final a tip, if he sings "I'll never break your heart, I'll never make you cry.", has unnaturally colored, frosty platinum hair, and wears matching windbreaker pants with four of his buddies, run far, far away and never look back.

Dating Woes of The Modern Day Independent Woman

I just spent the last two hours of my life trying to unclog my toilet. 

No, the clog isn't a result of a massive dump taken. I have a very old apartment... cute, adorable, quirky and lovable... but very old. And it has a very old, very iffy toilet in it's very old, very outdated bathroom.

Needless to say, after two hours of tirelessly plunging... my toilet is still very old... and very clogged.

It is during times like these in my life that I wish I had a male companion the most. I wish I had a boyfriend now, more than ever, to unclog my godforsaken, rickety, teal-colored toilet... and then maybe he could hold me and we could just cuddle and lie there when he was through.

They say that when you are dating, you are attracted to features that your mother or father possessed while they were raising you. Although, this Freudian hypothesis is undoubtedly creepy as hell to me, I do find it to be universally correct.

Looking back on my childhood, I realize that my father was a literal "Jack of Trades". His nickname is Jack, that's why it's literal. Stick with me.

My dad cooked the food, cleaned the house, squished the bugs, fixed the leak, raked the leaves, worked the job, packed the lunch, nailed the drywall, talked the talk, and walked the walk.

Don't get me wrong, my mother is a very awesome lady. She is steadfast, moral, trustworthy, reliable, firm, hardworking, giving, and extremely intelligent. She just doesn't like to cook. Or clean. But, my father will be the first to tell you that he would be dead or in jail, if it wasn't for her.

Basically, my parents are the kind of people who did, and continue to do, whatever it takes to survive, without a grimace or complaint. And they do it together.

Growing up with such a powerful, ready-and-able couple, both of my parents felt it was very important that I learn life skills at an early age, so that I would never have to be dependent on anyone for anything. Anytime there was something wrong with my car, my dad made me come outside and watch him fix it... even in the blistering cold and pouring rain. Anytime, I fudged my finances, my mother made me sit down with her and look at where I went wrong and what I should do in the future to prevent it from happening again.

For all of this and more, I am so grateful. I am not a girl who is scared to kill spiders. I know how to unjam a garbage disposal. I can replace most fluids in my car. I know the proper way to paint a wall. I can bake a mean batch of chocolate chip cookies. I rarely need a knight in shining armor to come to my rescue.

HOWEVER...

For one reason or another, I suck at unclogging toilets. This is EXTREMELY frustrating to me. I am the kind of person that figures out ways to get the job done, even if it isn't necessarily the same way that everyone else does it.

But, unlike eating reese cups, I really think there is only one way to unclog a toilet. And it is a mythical mystery, in a far away distant fantasy land, one that I fear I will never travel to and discover.

This admission troubles me on multiple counts.

First: What kind of nancy sissy baby of a female can't unclog a toilet? It seems as though it's pretty self explanatory... just keep plunging until the flush flushes freely.

Second: I hate asking for help. I hate admitting that I need someone. My generation of females has been taught to behave as though we can do anything and everything that a man can do, and sometimes we can do it better. I know more girls that can change a tire than I do guys. It used to be that women were looked down upon if they didn't behave like a lady and now the most respected women curse like sailors while smoking Marlboro Reds. We no longer have to wait for a man to call and ask us on a date, if we want him, we have no other option but to be assertive and go get him.

Third: I want a man who knows how to work his plunger! (Please giggle at the potential dirtiness of that last sentence.) A man who doesn't scream if he sees a mouse in the house. A man who will let me squeeze the living willies out of his hand when I have to get a shot during a doctor's visit. Does such a man exist anymore?! I know how to do MANY difficult and distasteful tasks in life that are necessary for my survival, but that doesn't mean that when I am with someone, I want to be the man of the house. Of course, I enjoy being a handy woman, but I also enjoy curling my hair, painting my nails, listening to Mariah Carey, and crying throughout the entire ending scene of "An Affair To Remember" and I won't have time for any of those things if I'm always taking out the garbage and hooking up the cable box.

This is all well and good, but I just wonder what happens when we regress back to history's past ways of girlishness and want to be taken care of for a change. Will we begin wearing unbearable petticoats and take to fainting on chaise lounge chairs? Does needing a male companion make us any less of a strong female? Do we lose all sense of independence once we let someone into our lives? Is it okay for us to believe that we cannot do it all? Or is it at that very moment, that we lose the sacred womanly strength we once possessed?

I cannot answer any of those questions at this point in my life. One day in the very distant future, I may have that ability. All I'm saying is, after today, I'm adding "Knows how to unclog a toilet" to my list of dating qualifications and there isn't an ounce of energy left in my ever-loving plunging body that will admit to being ashamed of that.

Before You Speak

"Think before you speak."

Who truly believes this anymore? Anyone? Anyone at all? 

... *... crickets... * ...

With the upcoming election being beaten through our tiny pea brains by the media and advertising industry, it's no wonder that people don't know how to filter their speech, thoughts, opinions, and/or ideas anymore. When an obnoxious fly won't stop buzzing in your ear and won't land somewhere long enough for you to smash it to smithereens, what do you do? You call it an annoying bastard and curse the day it was ever brought into existence. This is a perfect metaphor for my feelings towards the 2012 presidential election.

In fact, just the other day I caught myself holding back the urge to call total strangers imbeciles as they stood in front of me discussing which political candidate they thought would be more beneficial to the future of our country. It could have been Albert Einstein and Sir Isaac Newton waiting in line before me. I didn't care. Because they were in heated debate about the election, they were both nincompoops to me.

Honestly, I find it very difficult to take any interest at all in politics, for the sheer reason that I can't stand listening to people argue, bitch, and bicker, and never come to an agreement on the subject at hand. I realize it's extremely important to educate myself on the election and candidates, take a stance, and finally to vote for the person who I believe will make their best effort to help me, my future, and the future of my children and this country. However, rarely is there a time when I can sit through the name-calling, mud-slinging, and slanderous statements for long enough to decipher through the muck and discover the real facts. It's literally a physical impossibility for me. In the end, I want to punch both parties square in the nose, before finding a more eloquent manner to ask if they could just shut the hell up.

I should not be surprised by any of this, I realize, because we live in a world where the freedom of speech is being abused more and more every hour of every day. When I say that the freedom of speech is being abused, please understand that I love the fact that we live in a country where it is permissible to speak your mind without the fear being stoned to death or imprisoned. What I mean by my statement is that very few people think about what they want to say, before they say it. All they know is that they are completely right, and the person they are arguing is 100% wrong... and they will figure out how to back this up, in due time.

It SHOULD NOT be this way. Granted, some of the most important thoughts are spur-of-the-moment, passionate spontaneities, which unfold in front of us before we ourselves even have a chance to comprehend their true meanings. But truthfully, a well planned, thoughtfully composed opinion is one that I'd much rather listen to, as opposed to one from a person who has no idea what they are talking about until the moment that they part their lips to speak and concoct their support as the word vomit falls from their mouth into my ears.

As important as it is to have well-constructed, organized thoughts, I understand that it is equally important to be emotionally connected with the words you preach. Otherwise, there is no way in hell you are going to convince any one that you know what you are talking about, or that your ideas have any type of validity to them at all. For pete's sake, when my own father tells me I'm overly dramatic and ardent, I correct him by stating that my feelings are passionate and heartfelt, otherwise, they would not be surfacing and would not hold a drop of importance to anyone listening. Something inside each of us pushes our scruples to the exterior and, to me, these convictions are worth weighing out.

HOWEVER...

The fact of the matter is, there are certain thoughts that each one of our brains contains, which we should just keep to ourselves. Before we speak at all, we should quickly ask ourselves, "How is what I'm about to say going to affect my listener, positively or negatively?". The answer to this may lean more closely towards the negative end of the spectrum, which is fine, as long as we are aware that this is the action we are about to take and accept the consequences which will follow thereafter.

I am not saying that we should not speak if we believe what we say will cause controversy, argument, or disagreement. This is by far one of the best ways for mankind to learn and grow. The point I am trying to make is that we should be certain that our hearts and our minds are in agreement when displacing thoughts through our mouths. We should be sure that what we are preaching is an idea which truly belongs in the minds of others for them to ponder, refute, or concede with.

Now, if CNN and FOXNews could just grab this concept by the reigns, I think you might be voting for Miss Goober Daisy as the next Commander in Chief. 

My slogan? 

"THINK BEFORE YOU SPEAK."