I can't support your short relationship to engagement jump

I cannot be excited or proud or happy for you if you’ve gotten engaged before you’ve even been in a relationship a year. 

Do I sound like a bitch? 

Probably, but let me break it down for you. 

We, as humans, are learning creatures. We as ANIMALS are learning creatures. Since we’re humans, however, we can think logically (most of the time) and do things for our own needs and wants unlike some creatures. Many creatures do what is in their nature (sex) while humans have somehow maintained the connotation that sex is something that is sacred and should only be for marriage. But….if the animals do it….??? Doves are life mates, as they should be, but I’m sure one dove checked out another dove every once in awhile, AS THEY SHOULD. 

I’ve been a relationship now for over two years and it’s weird. I never thought I’d be the person to be in a long-term relationship and thought I’d end up marrying my high-school sweetheart because I got pregnant from a drunken one-night-stand with him. Because that’s my life. In my relationship, however, we have both grown as people, but have grown as a couple. This is something that I believe should happen while you’re in a relationship. Not while you’re engaged, or when you have that piece of paper that says “marriage certificate.”

WHY is the sanctity of marriage being ruined?! Probably because of people like you. People like you who just liked that Facebook post about the two that are engaged after being in a relationship for two months. People like you who think this is okay. And people like you that want to be engaged after barely knowing someone!

You think you know someone. Truuuust me, I’ve been there. I basically moved in with my significant other the day after our relationship “officially” started. You read that right: the DAY after. With this, I like to think of myself as an expert on relationships…lolwaitno, but I like to think I have a teeny bit of insight on the subject. I’ve been through enough in my life, anyways. I learned something new about my boyfriend yesterday. I learn new things about him at least every week, and some of these things I’d consider deal breakers at times in our relationship. But relationships are about growing. 

Can you grow with the connotation of getting a ring on your finger after barely knowing someone?! Nope. Is it right and just to marry someone just because you’re having a child with them?! No. Can you grow when you’re getting married just to have sex with this person because God doesn’t think it’s right to have sex out of wedlock?! NO!

Getting married merely for the above is pathetic, in my opinion. I believe in God, and I have my entire life. Do I believe everything my religion says? No, and I don’t think I could believe everything one religion says because we are an ever-changing people, and our minds are meant to be twisted, messed with, and we are ultimately searching for our morals and values at least every other year because we feel lost or we feel that God and/or Jesus (and/or Mary, too!) failed us at some point in the process and we’re re-thinking this. Whether you publicize it on Facebook or not, I know you do/have/will/always will. 

The Bible states (somewhere, idk I haven’t gotten that far and my religion isn’t one of those that can spit out every verse from the Bible verbatim in an instant) that premarital sex is a sin and is something that should be confined to only a marriage. Other religions get further into this subjects, while some religions just disregard the situation at all going willy-nilly with all of the willy’s going into nilly’s train hole. Ya feel me? I’m not naming names, because I’m not shaming anyone’s religion, but everyone has different beliefs. 

Never in the Bible does it say

…”thou shalt get married if thou breaks their chastity vow.”

…”thou shalt get married quick [af] to not break their chastity vow.”

…”thou shalt divorce because you had a small disagreement and now you’re done with life.”

If you’re going to strongly believe that premarital sex is a sin, then you should believe that divorce is one, too, because that is somewhere in the Bible as well. Also, I’m pretty sure that Jesus would rather have you breaking your chastity vow than getting married just to do so. And don’t deny to me and tell me, because statistically those that are chaste and their virginity is bound to the Lord; GET MARRIED SUPER EARLY AND IT ENDS IN SHITSHOW(S) MORE THAN THRICE. Jesus probably had premarital sex. Nowhere in the Bible does it say that Jesus is a virgin. Nowhere in the Bible does it say that Joseph was a virgin, and some religions don’t believe that Mary the Virgin Mother was, indeed, a virgin. 

This being said, if you have sex with your significant other, you have a bond.  Granted, I, myself, have had way too many ‘bonds’ with people, but when you know, you know, ya know? BASICALLY: You’re probably going to have sex on your honeymoon and it’s going to be TERRIBLE. Your hymen is going to bleed all over those white cashmere sheets your future-baby-daddy thought were going to be ~romantic. He’s going to miss your vagina thousands of times because he’s never aimed for any hole other than the one that’s in the toilet and it’ll probably rip some part of your anus unless you’re lucky. He’s going to finish in less than a minute while you’re sobbing uncontrollably because you’re in excruciating pain, and then he’s going to want to do it again and again and again because it felt so good to him. And your vagina is going to feel like it’s about to corrupt amongst itself and you’re going to comply with it because Jesus said that’s what’s right. 

WELL JESUS PROBABLY DIDN’T 

Premarital sex has always been a “no no” and I really want to know why. I feel that if you take my honeymoon scenario and put it sometime into your relationship whether that be a month, a year, or a couple of anything’s, your relationship with God and those higher powers you believe in is going to be significantly different, and probably better. 

Wait, what?! 

YEP you heard me right.

God has a calling out there for us. For some of us, it’s priesthood, ministering, sisterhood, etc. and for some if us it’s marriage. And for some of those married people it’s children and so on and so forth. If God’s calling for you is marriage: then you’ll find someone. Just because someone seems perfect doesn’t mean that this person is your perfect someone. They could be Jane’s perfect person and when your husband finds Jane and is riding the Jane train and you’re on the way to divorce: you’re going to be fucked. However, if you would’ve rode your husbands train previously, you both would've known that your relationship is inconceivable at that point and you weren’t mean to be together. Instead, that vow you’ve made for the rest of your life you’re stuck with since you don’t believe in divorce either and you praise the Lord that much. 

Your husband could be a cheater and have 10 babies on the way…. 

Your religion doesn’t believe in divorce.

Your husband could decide that he’s going to bring home this woman and have sex with her, and since you live there you walk in on this. But you can’t leave….

Your religion doesn’t believe in divorce.

WELL I PERSONALLY DO. I’ve seen enough ex-parte action against abuse in marriages, but they won’t get divorced because they don’t believe in it. Same with suicides because people are that incredibly unhappy. But what would’ve solved that?!?!?!?!?!!??!!?..

BASICALLY…TLDR;

I’m not supporting your marriage because you’re getting engaged when you barely know a person, and your dumbass(es) shouldn’t either. Instead, put a dick in yourself and pray to a higher power that you know that this man is going to be your husband. And guess what, he might be, he might not be. We are a people of chance, but we are a people of power. and that power is a phenomenal thing when used wisely.

It's A Different World

I live in the same city, but I don’t.

It sounds weird, but it’s completely true. I know there’re several different aspects to each city and there are different suburbs/stereotypes in every city, but there’s one small exception to mine: it’s small. Unlike St. Louis which has its many adjacent towns that people will still refer to themselves as living in “St. Louis,” the town I live in is just that: that town. If you live in an adjacent city, you live in whatever that city’s name is as well, but not the one that’s nearest to it like those “St. Louis” people like to say. 

As a freshman in college my parents basically decided for me that I wasn’t going to live in the dorms, and I needed to find somewhere cheap to live. Student housing around here isn’t cheap at all and that’s where my friend wanted to live and asked me to live with her. Thank goodness at that moment she in a way backstabbed me and in a way didn’t, because I got out of that situation fast. Instead, I found a duplex on what people consider the “bad” part of town. The city is separated out into four sectors: the south side, the north side, ‘downtown’, and the east side. Apparently we don’t talk about the west side, though. I lived on what was the “north” side of the city. There was a nice subdivision that even had it’s own pool, but all around me were trailer parks and not-so-good looking areas. According to the “locals,” the so-called “new ghetto” was down the road from where I lived now because they were cheap duplexes and could fit a lot of people. I put my blinders on and went into the situation, signing a lease, because to me, it looked like a pretty good place. 

What I learned? Just because you live in a “ritzy north side neighborhood” doesn’t mean that it’s  a good place. I got several things stolen from me while I lived in this area. Granted, I lived on a street with all college students, but my car would be locked, and things would still magically disappear. One time, my neighbors went car-to-car searching with a flashlight and broke into every car they thought they had a chance in and stole my wallet. I’d had a bad night and left it underneath the passenger seat of my boyfriend’s car (we were neighbors) and magically the next morning it was gone. I was astounded when various neighbors contacted me saying they had my items. One of my neighbors had so graciously scattered my belongings around the neighborhood, took all of my change, and cashed a $10 check from my grandparents. Real winners, right? These kids were also typically “ritzy” children themselves. 

After various touts with neighbors and roommates, I decided that I wanted to move somewhere with my boyfriend. We stayed at each others houses often anyway and were literally next-door neighbors. My new roommates had a problem with him coming over, but our other neighbors could come over at any time and it “wasn’t a problem.” It was a pretty fucked up situation, and I decided that I wanted to get out of it as soon as I could. The subleasing fee was ungodly, and my boyfriend and I got ourselves into a bit of a situation with moving, so we found a last minute apartment, walked through one day, and signed a lease at McDonald’s less than 12 hours later. It was a whirlwind of opportunity and stress that had been relieved, and I didn’t know what I had coming for me. 

The apartment we moved into was now on the “south” side of town. I always thought that the “south” side of town wasn’t that far away, until we had to drive back and forth with our belongings through the snow to our new apartment. It was disgusting and we had to clean the entire thing. Our neighbors did not seem like the greatest of people, but our landlords had just bought the place, and it seemed like things were going up. Since this was on the “south” side of town, life started to become a lot different. It didn’t take me 15 minutes to the grocery store anymore, I had several back ways to get home, and I was closer to the road it took to get to my job and my parent’s house. 

Getting more accustomed to the life on the “other side,” I noticed a lot of different things. While I didn’t live in the nicest subdivision, I lived all around the ritzy ones. These “ritzy” ones were multimillion dollar neighborhoods and they had an array of beautiful houses, pools, etc.. None of the pools were “private” pools, and they were extremely nice people. I saw more Mercedes Benz SUV’s, Porsche’s, and Lamborghini’s, and I saw more kindness than I ever did on the “north” side of town (other than when I popped my tire on the curb, but let’s not talk about that because it was a real bad day.)

My ‘new’ neighbors are drug dealers. They’re EXTREMELY loud and annoying, but I’ve left my wallet on the front seat of my car for an entire week and nobody did anything. My ‘new’ neighbors are kind people, and even though I hate living in an apartment, I’d honestly consider re-signing a lease just because I love living on the ‘south’ side of town. We’re closer to everything, there’re more places that you can walk and don’t have to feel like you’re going to get shot, and there’re less “lock your doors! High thefts ahead!” signs which is ultimately comforting. 

It’s interesting to see life from a different city while still in the same city, though, but it’s an incredible thing.

And it’s incredible to have two of the heirs of the Wal-Mart fortune as neighbors. ;)

Why I have no hope for Generation Z

i was at a concert Wednesday night when I had the most eye opening experience — I have a strong sense of sadness for Generation Z (and some from Generation Y as well, just to be inclusive.) 

This particular concert was at a bar in downtown St. Louis. I’d never been there before, but a friend and I had looked up online that 21+ get early entrance to the show, and since we’re both older than dirt, we grazed to that line. We had met a couple of people in the line that we had began talking to, some the same age as us and some older. Those older definitely seemed to have their shit together, however, those the same age as us seemed to be attention seekers. They constantly were taking pictures of themselves, having us take pictures of themselves, having others, and then during the concert (which we were all second row), proceeded to jump up and down like this was some rave when in reality, it was just Nick Jonas (which I mean could be a big deal to some people, but definitely wasn’t to these.) They were throwing up their sorority gang symbols constantly and elbowing everyone around them—lucky me!!— to try and “dance” so that he would notice them. Thank God that he’s not that type of person to feed into that kind of thing, so he basically avoided all eye contact with him. 

While those individuals are a part of Generation Y, like myself, the front row of the establishment was set aside for those who bought VIP packages. The VIP packages started at $200 and were basically insane from there on up. Obviously the only kind of people who are going to buy those are die hard Nick Jonas fans, and those that can afford it with mommy & daddy’s money. Those that were in the front row were 100% Generation Z. I met a great girl in front of us, that had to have been in high school, who was around the same age as the others in the front row, but her demeanor was much different than those in the front—however, she is one of few. 

Before the concert, they were much like the friends I had met before that were in my generation, taking pictures of everything. Themselves, the opening act, themselves with the opening act, and when Bebe threw her drum stick out oh shit. Generation Z went WILD, which was terrifying to say the least because most of them had NO IDEA who she was. It was when he came out, though, that struck a nerve in me. I understand that Generation Y is the first generation to grow up in a technology filled environment, and we’re much more susceptible to things of that sort. Much isn’t known about Generation Z at this point, but what I CAN tell you, is I have no hope for them. 

The girls in the front row, sorry if you were one of the few fellas there, aside from the girl that I had mentioned above, spent 3/4 of the concert taking selfies. They took selfies of themselves, turned around and took selfies while Nick Jonas was in the picture, took selfies with their friends in a similar fashion of the latter, too. Like no. It was terrible. Standing behind them made me realize they literally spend the entire concert on Snapchat/Instagram. They talked about how many likes they got on their picture with Nick, and when he even primarily looked their way a couple of times, when they were ACTUALLY LOOKING AT HIM, they shrieked like it was the end of the world and immediately brought up their phones to try and get a picture of this. 

I understand wanting to document your experiences someplace, I really do. When digital cameras were a thing, I was ALL OVER bringing them into Jonas Brothers concerts and seeing which picture I could best get of any of the brothers, and spazzing out while I did it. However, I was a baby 13 year old that had nothing better to do with my life than revolve it around the Jonas Brothers. When I was 16,17,18, like these individuals at the concert, I was not obsessed with taking the best selfie, or documenting every single thing that i did.

When I thought of that experience, I explored the same thing on Saturday when my university had a football game. The section I’m in primarily is full of freshman, Generation Z, with a few exceptions—yay me! again. I mean, it’s definitely a choice to be in that section, and I don’t regret it, but I guess I had never noticed anything of the sort until I went to the concert and noticed it. The game started early in the morning, so naturally everyone was at their worst due to getting up at 6 AM to watch a football game, right? Wrong. The front row of this section is ~exclusive, and they get their bodies painted with whatever catchy phrase was came up with and it’s plastered all over ESPN during the game. It definitely is a cool experience, but not as cool of an experience that I have to document every living second before the game starts— because the coordinators would NOT allow Nick-Jonas-Wednesday-night-generation-z material during the game, and either would the university. However, before? They can’t control any of that shit. 

These girls stood in front of the 40 yard line taking every selfie from every angle that they could. They asked, literally (and I know people overuse that word, but this was LITERALLY) every single person around them to take their picture, including my friends and I. I laughed at the friend that actually volunteered, mostly because he probably thought they were hot, as they had already gotten nearly 40 pictures of themselves taken from everyone around them. Then they proceeded to selfie with themselves, and after they got painted, continued to do so… while getting black and yellow paint all over themselves and after complaining that their Under Armour bra was going to get paint all over it—even though that was the point of lining up for the front row. 

I wasn’t expecting world peace and nobel prizes from Generation Z, but I also wasn’t expecting people who are obsessed with themselves and documenting THEMSELVES for the further future. I’ve never seen a generation so self-obsessed and obsessed with their phones and the social media that is on them than Generation Z. A generation so absorbed in their technology that they have to bring their charging cords to a concert and ask the bouncers if they can plug it in and are missing entire experiences around them. They’re missing experiences they paid for, for experiences that could disappear with the click of a “delete” button on a phone or a developers choice. What’s wrong with Generation Z is the fact that they’re missing the entire world around them, and they don’t even care. They’re not phased by asking a stranger to take a picture, or ten, of themselves, and are disappointing performers because they’re not watching a fucking thing. Welcome to the generation that IS NOT going to care about the things going on around them, because they’re only going to care about themselves. And while there are some good ones in that generation, like my cousin who literally gives no fucks about those portions of her life, but about changing things for the better… but then on the other side of the table, there’s my other cousin who is one year older than her, and is complaining to my aunt that she got less likes on Instagram than she ever had before and was about to cry about it.

That is what’s wrong with Generation Z, and I honestly, honestly hope that social media come sto a crash, so that there’s SOME hope left for that generation.Wh

Growing Up isn't getting married.

Something I always wanted to do when I was little was grow up. I think that’s all every child is and I honestly don’t know why, since it’s probably the worst and hardest thing in the world. Some people never overcome it, and while I’m still definitely not there 100%, I’ve realized over the past couple of days what growing up actually is, and how it feels.

Growing up is not having a baby and thinking that it makes you grow up because it doesn’t. My sister is a whole 30 years old, has 4 children, and still does not realize any sort of concept of growing up, and my mom will more than likely still be supporting her at the age of 50. Growing up is not getting engaged because you’ve been dating near a year or over and “that’s what you think you should to for excitement and to grow up.” That’s far from growing up, and you should only get engaged because you have the full intent of wanting to marry and spend the rest of your life with that individual.

Growing up is not getting that credit card and going apeshit on it, expecting a grant that’s supposed to go towards school to pay it off. It’s not deciding to get that gigantic TV package because you think you need it. It’s not deciding to buy yourself an “early birthday present” consisting of that new line of Kate Spade bags that cost roughly $350. It’s not paying off credit with credit.

Growing up is a trial. Growing up is realizing that you’re not the only person involved in your life, other people are involved to. Growing up is realizing that even when your significant other fucks up, that’s not a reason to leave them. They’re going to go through problems in their life too and if you truly love them, you’ll stick with them through those problems like they have with you. Growing up is realizing you’re going to have to take out another loan for school because your parents aren’t going to pay for your school anymore and you lost that grant that you thought was no big deal. Growing up is paying off that credit card after you went apeshit and realizing that it’s more than half of your paycheck and it’s almost impossible to pay those bills now. Growing up is realizing you only need what’s necessary for you to live.

We, as a country, take too much into the little things. You don’t need that Kate Spade bag. You don’t need to have that expansion TV package that costs $200 a month. Growing up is realizing that these things are accomplishments. You should get those things if you can afford them, not because you think you need it and are having someone else pay for it. So when you graduate from college, pay off all those student loans. Screw getting that new car if you have a car that works and gets good enough gas mileage, you don’t need it. Buy that house if you can afford it, but make sure that you can afford to pay off all of those things. Pay off all your debts in life with that hard-earned money. Don’t make the mistake of letting material items take place over the debts you have in life.

That, in my opinion, is growing up.

Find Your Matty McKibben

Have you ever had someone who will treat you like a princess in the sheets, but when you get out into the streets, they treat you like Regina George was treated when all she could wear was sweatpants? It sucks. It doesn’t just simply suck, but it really sucks, and if you wanna be like Jenna Hamilton and be ballsy with your frelationship, or whatever it may be, then I ADMIRE YOU.

Awhile ago I posted about my doppelgänger and how it seemed like we were drawn to each other. Well, Mother Nature proved me right again, and we are on speaking terms. That’s right! We are on speaking terms. We went to a restaurant, publicly, which is something we often did, but something we seldom did? Events with friends/publicly. We would “go out” publicly, but at the same time, we would be going to spontaneous restaurants all the time (that partook to me gaining a shitload of weight as well — high school me should’ve ran more track.) Any time we were around friends (mutual or one-sided) it was as if we didn’t know each other.

While Awkward portrays something that isn’t real life, some parts of it are real life. I’ve mentioned my promiscuity in high school/college (because I’m a basic white girl) and let me tell you, that part where she thinks Matty is just her fuck buddy instead of her boyfriend speaks to my younger self SO MUCH. My younger self would sleep with people to feel loved, to feel welcomed. It was until I was in public with said person that I would realize our true relationship (and deny it, because I didn’t have a Tamara sitting there telling me what was wrong with me, lbr.) I think the one that took the icing on the cake was the guy that was nervous to be around me in public. Now I’m a pretty tall individual, and it just so happened that tall people don’t have a thing for me, so I’ve had to succumb my life to dating short individuals. I’ve mentioned my obsession with frat boys, and this particular guy happens to be one of those. Oops. We met on Tinder because I’m cliche. I don’t know if it’s my fault for being a horny teenager, but we slept together not long after meeting each other (because I’m a slore, yeah.) He was super nervous about everything, but our relationship was trivial. We hated and loved (lusted, for lack of better word) each other, and mostly being in each other’s pants. Until my teenager-ness wore off and realized “hey! let’s be in a relationship!” We never made anything official (bc this man was an assfuck) but he would never want to be seen anywhere in public with me. He would never hug me goodbye, and would always drive across campus to see me, even though I walked to his house all. the. time. The final time we were “in public” together, he couldn’t even hug me because there was a woman in the car in front of us and “he was worried what she would think.” Granted, I looked like I was his fucking mom, but THAT DOES NOT MATTER. The point of this, is now he has a pilot license and that magically makes him sexy? and I’m confused at what the point of this blog post even is.

My doppelgänger and I talking has got me in weird moods, especially since I figured out that he’s being deployed soon. The funny part about that? The last time he was gone for a remote amount of time (basic training, bc that takes 4evr) he basically confessed his love to me. I don’t mean basically, actually, because he literally admitted it later on after I wasn’t smart enough to realize it. I’m in a relationship, yes, and I love that individual as well, but I do love my doppelgänger, too. As much as the other? Probably not at all, no, but I do still have love for him, and I just don’t want that to happen again.

Because you’ll always fall for the guy that wants you in private vs. the guy that wants you all over in public.

Keep Your Tape Clean

To the individual that has called me a “slut” and other choice words,

    We used to be the best of friends. I take that back because I don’t remember that much of our friendship. I thought I did, but I really didn’t. All I remember was talking a lot more than I’d talk to any other person, and you being a genuine person that the world deserved more of than just the rare few. I understand that everyone changes throughout the course of life, even throughout the course of a year, but you, sir, have changed more than anyone ever thought you would.

    I am not going to say that I was the most perfect person in high school, or even in life in general, but everyone makes mistakes, and as you get older, you grow into maturity. You grow into your “big kid” job, and learn your life lessons from that and building a family of your own, so if you choose, along the way. The generation I was born into has kind of fucked this up, though. I graduated with around 50 people, and out of those people, eleven of us are still in school. I am not stating that college makes you a smarter or better person, but I’m stating this fact because everyone in my graduating class had the plan to pursue, and was enrolled in, college. The other 48 of those students I graduated with, dropped out of college, and don’t necessarily have jobs, but might have kids, be married, or both. That’s what I’m getting at when I’m saying that this generation is weird. It’s weird because we don’t have a path for our lives, but we’re going to add another little life into that screwed up life, making that little life feel the wrath of.

MOVING ON…

In high school, I had to buy Plan B for an individual because they weren’t old enough. They were sixteen, and would not tell me who it was for, but were really anxious about it. It turns out this person was fourteen, and had just turned fourteen not long before this incident. This person acted way too much like an adult, as this person was calling people names and claiming that they were the Virgin Mary a month prior.

If you flash forward a couple of years, you’d find out that this particular individual has a child from a spontaneous one night stand. This particular one night stand, happened to be someone that I had hooked up with in the past. Therefore, this particular individual that decided to call me a slut and choice names — you’ve technically slept with me.

It’s all about keeping your tape clean. I’ll be the first to admit, my tape definitely is not the cleanest as I was into ‘bad boys’ in high school to get revenge on my high school sweetheart, and was into frat boys in college. Keeping your tape clean is metaphoric for how many people you’ve slept with. If you put it into perspective:

Your partner has slept with 10 people before they slept with you, and you lost your virginity to them. Therefore, you’re sharing sexual juices with those 10 people, as well as ANYONE they’ve had sex with prior to your partners altercation with them.
    So say Sally loses her virginity to Sammy. Sammy had sex with Silvia, Samantha, and Sarah. Silvia had previously had sex with Sergio prior to Sammy, as well as Seth. Samantha and Sarah both had sex with Sean and Slade. THEREFORE, since Sally is having sex with Sammy and Sammy had sex with Silvia, Samantha, AND Sarah, and those three had sex with other people: Sally has shared sexual ‘juices’ with Sarah, Samantha, Silvia, Sergio, Sean, and Slade, instead of just the one person she thought she was having sex with.

While I do not like putting this into perspective (due to my own personal issues), it’s a realistic issue. Since I’ve “technically” shared sexual juices with this man, does that mean that he’s technically a slut and all those names as well? Because it should. It shouldn’t be something to judge people on, because people get judged every day, yes, but people should not get judged on things, only to find out that you’re CONNECTED to a person in a way that you cannot get rid of and you cannot take back. Putting this into a greater perspective, I would hope, puts teens in a position to realize what they’re doing when they’re younger actually has consequences. I didn’t think much as a teenager, but I sure hope that as a “semi-adult,” I can change some people’s lives from becoming the oblivion of bullying that some have plundered into



TL;DR
You shouldn’t judge a book by it’s cover until you know at least SOME of the story that is inside of it, because you could share more than just history with someone.

Why you should be wary of the "fratdaddy"

I’ve mentioned some of my previous trials and experiences, but there’s one that I hold extremely close to me. I feel like I shouldn’t, because there are so many people that experience similar situations like this, and they need to be addressed because it is not okay. Yes, I let it happen for a short period of time, but at the same time, some girls are just like that.

Before entering college, I thought that frat guys would be the biggest assholes and I would not want anything to do with them. I went back and forth between if I was going to rush or not and if I wanted to make that financial decision whenever I wasn’t in a good place financially. I made the decision not to summer or winter rush ever, and sometimes I still kick myself in the ass for it and other times I don’t. My freshman/sophomore year of college, however, I decided my fate for frat boys was a lot different than what I thought.

Everyone has their first love, or what they think is their first love, at some point in their life and mine just so happened to start in high school. He ultimately decided that he was going to go to a different college after he got back from basic training, and it kind of broke my heart, but it was something that I had to live with. We were back and forth with each other all the time, and I didn’t know how to feel about it. When he went to college second semester, which would’ve been his first semester, he decided to join a fraternity. My first semester of college concluded of mourning over a dumbass ex that I used to try and get over my feelings for my first love, going home nearly every weekend (there were other reasons behind that as well) and ultimately writing letters to my first love. Around October 2012, I discovered Tinder and it helped aide my experiences with frat boys, and my first love decided that he was going to join a fraternity in January 2013.

My first encounter with “this type” of person was quite interesting. He invited me to a day party to which I ultimately said no because I wasn’t about to succumb myself to the depths that were the fraternity he was in. We ended up going on dates, hooking up, and he was ultimately my first college boyfriend. It was interesting, to say the least, and I’ll forever remember the experiences and the memories that we shared, but at the same time I won’t. I wrote a post yesterday about not being good enough to be invited to formal. This asshole is the one that the encounter happened with. Even though we had only started “dating” a month or two before his formal, he took someone else and there were pictures, oh boy were there pictures. She got extremely pissed off because I was texting him all night and it was a blast.

I can’t make every encounter with the man negative, however. He opened up my life to plethoras of new people. I met some of the most amazing people that I probably would’ve never met any other way, and I am eternally grateful for this. I can, however, make the type of person he was to be negative.

He and I had a rocky ending, and at the time I was making friends with other people in various other fraternities. I was dating, or so I thought I was dating, the so-called “frat daddy” of one fraternity. I didn’t realize this until he kept asking me for favors or his pledge class. My roommate at the time kept telling me that I was being considered their “sweetheart’ and I should feel proud about it, because apparently being a fraternities “sweetheart” is most sorority girls—and just girls in general—goal. I just kept with the flow because everyone around me thought that it was okay. I definitely should not have listened to them.

Around the middle of September, initiation for this particular fraternity was going on. Since I was “in” with the “fratdaddy” and he was asking me for various favors, this was a major part of what I did at this period of time. (Side note: I did “favors” for him because if I didn’t, he’d make me seem like a terrible person and that i did him wrong, and it upset me thinking that I was hurting them — yeah, I am a dumbass.) I was called to do the stupidest of things such as “take this group of guys here, pick us up from *here* at *this time*, and finally, “entertain this freshman because he *needs* it.” The last one was the one that I was not okay with, and why I ended it after the first time that it happened. This first—and only— experience scarred me for life, and has kind of made me a bit hesitant against men in general, but specifically those frat guys that are really into their fraternity.

I was told to pick up this freshman pledge from the house because he was about to be kicked out and he “needed to be happy before this happened.” This made my skin crawl, yes, because I wasn’t sure what i was expected to do. I asked said “fratdaddy”—let’s call him Bob* because that term is getting annoying. I asked Bob what I was supposed to do, and he told me to take him back to my place of residence and just chill with him until he called him and told him his ultimate fate. I agreed and I still don’t know why.

I picked up said freshman, and he didn’t talk to me the entire way. We get to my place of residence, and it’s terribly awkward. We start watching TV because there’s not much to do in my house as I’m not a very interesting person and I hadn’t really been home since this had become a major part of my life. This man starts trying to make out with me, and I started getting kind of weirded out—even more than I already had been. I kind of pushed him away and got myself a drink as this was going to be an interesting night, and Bob was not replying to the texts that I was sending him.

I sat back down on the couch and proceeded to stare at my phone while the man next to me—let’s call him John*— began to unzip his pants, and grab my hands. I tried to pull away and asked John what he was doing. (Keep in mind, John is a lot larger than I, and obviously a lot stronger than I.) He told me, for lack of better words, that “this is how this worked. This is what was supposed to happen because otherwise what else was the point of me picking him up and bringing him here.”

UM WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!

I immediately began trying to call Bob while John proceeded to jack himself off in front of me (and no, I’m not fucking kidding.) I tried to distance myself enough away from him and was rather fearful as to what his next step was. Bob didn’t answer my phone calls, and John decided it’d be a good idea to finish all over the carpet and on my feet. I was ultimately disgusted, so I just had to wipe it off and told him that we were leaving and I was bringing him back home, regardless that Bob hadn’t called him or not.

Bob calls him on my way of bringing John back to the fraternity house and ultimately tells him his fate that he’ll get a meeting instead of just ultimately getting kicked out—but I knew that he was already getting kicked out. He repeated over and over again “thank you so much pledge master,” and I wanted to punch him in the fucking face. I get to said fraternity house and there are so many people outside, mostly Bob’s friends, but not Bob himself. It took all that I had to not park my car and go to find Bob and punch him in the face, but he was probably with his actual sweetheart that wasn’t nearly being sexually molested by a member of his pledge class.

After this encounter with John, I ended things with Bob. I basically told him that he can fuck himself because nobody deserves to be treated like that, and that is kind of fucked up, and then blocked his number. I thought I took the most appropriate response to it, and I haven’t seen Bob or John to this day *THANK YOU HIGHER POWERS*. I honestly hope I never will because Bob won’t have a penis anymore.

The purpose of this isn’t to talk trash on frat guys because I’ve met some amazing frat guys. I’ve met some of the nicest individuals that will be the only ones to help you, even if there are several other peers around, and I am ultimately grateful that there are people like that out there. So I’m not talking trash on frat guys.

Who I am talking trash on, are those pieces of shit that think that they can treat you like a piece of meat and treat you like a play toy. If you think you’re some fraternity’s sweetheart, make sure they’re baking you fucking cookies and doing everything for YOU, not the other way around. If it’s the other way around, show yourself out of that situation, because you don’t want to end up being in a situation that could have turned even worse, and the person that you THOUGHT was a good person, didn’t give two fucks about you in reality.

Protect YOURSELF because YOU are important and YOUR safety is way more important than some guy. If that guy really card about you, he wouldn’t put you in any sort of situation against your will like that, and yes you are strong enough to say no. You are strong enough to walk away from that asshole, and I wish I would have realized that before this happened.

What I learned about children & makeup

As I’ve mentioned before, I work at a daycare. “Out of the mouths of babes” is something that we commonly use because let’s be honest: little kids say the damnedest things. Yesterday, however, was different. I totally didn’t expect something to come out of a child’s mouth, nor did I expect it to not only piss me off, but give me some hope of the future.

The daycare that I work at has ages 2-6. Six because some little boy was developmentally behind due to some hospitalizations, and two because apparently they’re being ballsy and letting in children who just turned two a couple of days prior. I am usually in the class (because it’s separated by classes) that is 2-3, and there are a couple of 4 year olds. The 5 year olds that have a 6 year old in their class are a bit different. They’re different because they’re (obviously) so much more mature than the little kids that I’m used to, and I’m only around them for an hour or so if they end up showing up in the afternoon.

Usually I come straight from class or don’t really care about my appearance when I go to work. I work at a daycare, for christsakes, I’m not going to show up wearing glamorized clothing every single day. I have worn jeans there twice because I just can’t move around in the pairs of jeans that I have like I would like to. Usually I show up in leggings or something of the sort, and whether or not I “put myself together” just really depends on how I’m feeling that morning.

Yesterday, we were outside on the playground, though. This little girl that I rarely talk to (because I hardly ever see her) came up to me and told me that I’m beautiful every day, but only from “this point to this point” as she pointed out to places on her body. She pointed to everywhere but her face, and at first I thought that she was talking about my size since I’m not the tiniest person in the world. Then I had to think to myself, though, because most little children will never comment on your size if they actually know what they’re talking about. Especially if their parents are embarrassed easily, are bigger themselves, or are just correct parents. I say this because one of my nephews has a bastard of a dad who likes to poke fun at the fact that my sister is a bigger woman. He tells my nephew that “he doesn’t want him to be fat” and “his girlfriends aren’t fat” (*SPOILER ALERT* his girlfriends aren’t fat because they’re on drugs and have 6 kids that they don’t have custody of because they were born with cocaine in their system. bUT ANYWAY.) My point is that I’ve never had a small child comment on anyone’s weight (at least when I’m around) except for my nephew whose dad is a bastard.

Moving on. I was trying to process what this little girl was saying. Finally she spits out “makeup doesn’t make you pretty.” The look on my face was that I was kind of astonished, mostly because a five year old is telling me that I don’t need makeup to be pretty. I sincerely appreciate these parents for teaching this to their children, because I feel that most individuals aren’t teaching this to their children and are teaching them that they need makeup to be pretty and they need to do this to be society’s version of “pretty.” I sincerely appreciate those parents who aren’t teaching this to their children because they’re going to grow up to be something someday. They’re not going to grow up being the little bastards that my nephew has grown up to be (right now he’s only 8, but it’s getting worse as time goes on) and they’re going to be those polite children that tell you you’re beautiful, and telling you the things that you want to hear.

What I tried to explain to this little girl, however, is something that she didn’t understand. While I fully believe that “makeup doesn’t make you pretty,” there are other things that do, which is what this little girl fully showed, but that’s not the point I’m trying to make.

Some people feel extremely uncomfortable if they’re not wearing makeup. I used to go to a counselor and she informed me that some people that were married, their husbands had never seen them without makeup because they would get up and just keep putting it on, and never really take it off.

I started wearing makeup when I was maybe 13/14. I didn’t wear a whole lot of makeup, but my mom finally decided to let me start wearing makeup because I would break out so much. I washed my face, but my face never seemed to agree with the fact that I didn’t want to break out so much. I only wore Clinique foundation and powder (because that’s what my mom wore) and maybe some eyeliner and mascara. Any time I wouldn’t wear makeup to school (or eye makeup rather) I would get asked “why do you look tired, are you sad, are you mad?” I thought these were just hits at me not wearing makeup for the day, but lord only knows what they were. In high school, I wore makeup more regularly with some days that I wouldn’t. Senior year I got stressed out enough with working two jobs, taking college classes along with my high school ones, and having an emotionally abusing boyfriend that demanded I be at his beck and call any time he needed. One of my friends, who I had had a relationship with in the past and was the first person I fell in love with, told me that he would like me if I “tried more.” He told me that I didn’t put myself together enough for him to like, and that he didn’t know how I could go out into public like that.

I ignored that hit at me because he was a douche bag. Freshman year of college, a whole new world came to me. I discovered YouTube, more specifically the beauty side of YouTube. I really don’t remember how, at this point, but I did, and I started spending a wide variety of money on makeup. I became a platinum member at ULTA within three months, and I just thought I was rolling high. I became a YouTube Partner, and enjoyed the different types of looks I could do from using makeup. Even though I’ve probably spend $5,000 on makeup in my entire life, I use every single bit of the makeup that I have, or I bless someone else with it. It’s the right thing to do. I also have extremely oily skin, which is why I broke out a lot in high school. I’ve finally found a regimen that works for me (that involves not washing my face very much because it’s very sensitive. Therefore, if I don’t wear makeup, I start to breakout. If I don’t wear anything on my face, my face will build up to be this entire grease ball and be a breeding ground for acne. i’ll wear makeup most days, but there are several days that I won’t—just not in a row because I’d rather not be a breeding ground.

What this little girl didn’t understand, and what I hope her parents eventually teach her, is that people have hobbies. I firmly believe that makeup is a hobby, and I hope that some parents eventually teach their kids that. I also hope that they don’t teach their kids to sort of slut-shame people that DO wear makeup. I appreciate parents teaching their children that you don’t need makeup to think you’re pretty, but they need to be taught just that; not, if someone weasr makeup, they’re automatically thinking as not thinking you’re pretty & need makeup and need to be told so.

35 Things I've Learned Working at a Daycare.

I’ve worked retail for 4 1/2 years. Out of those 4 1/2 years, I worked a variety of retail: food/drink, clothing, specific clothing, along with different brands and selling other miscellaneous things that don’t have to deal with food or clothing. Those years completely made me respect people, but hate people as well. If you’ve ever worked retail, you probably feel the exact same way (unless you’re just a die hard retail worker who isn’t affected by what people say.) 

When I started college, I vowed that i would never work another retail job again. This wasn’t super realistic, however, since in college you have little to no time to do anything. Every office-y type job I would try to get was nearly impossible, so I started another retail job. This job made me absolutely hate retail environments. It wasn’t the absolute kicker, but it sure pushed my buttons more than any of my other retail jobs had (and at one of them, my boss’ nickname for me was “little bitch," to say the least.) I had a boss that absolutely loathed me, and would show it. They would keep me there longer than what I was supposed to because the schedule was messed up and they wouldn’t have anyone there (not my fault.) Thankfully, our store manager was saintly, and she made things better. 

I started working an office-y job after this, but came to an ultimatum of having to do school projects or work my expected hours a week. This was a hugeeee struggle last semester as i “didn’t want to work retail,” so I got a job at a daycare fairly close to campus that someone in my cohort worked at. 

Working at a daycare has taught me SO much, which is what the point of this article actually is. Working at a daycare through college can be strenuous, rewarding, exciting, and annoying all at the same time. Here are 35 things I learned working at a daycare through college:

1.     You’ll be extremely uncomfortable your first couple of days. Weeks. Maybe even months.

2.     You’re going to have a parent criticizing your every move.

3.     Cursing around children is a no (obviously.)

4.     So when that child decides to be a little asshole, you have to contain yourself to not scream at them.

5.     Children’s clothes may not fit or they’ll start to run out of “extra” clothes they have. Telling those parent is always strenuous. “OH these? Yeah they fit him, you’re just doing it wrong.” Yes. I’m putting clothes on wrong, totally.

6.     If you’re not alone and have co-workers in the same room, dealing with their criticism can be difficult

7.     Especially if they flaunt their degrees in people’s faces and hate them.

8.     Accidents happen. All the time.

9.     So you’ll get used to pee on the floor, poop on your hands, ect.

10.  Little kids will eat everything.

11.  Rocks? Yep. Boogers? Of course. Food that’s on the floor, covered in dirt? A gourmet meal.

12.  You have to go through food safety classes in order to work somewhere where they’ll eat the food off of the floor no matter what.

13.  Since they eat a variety of foods, they’ll end up everywhere.

14.  Hair? Definitely. Clothes? Well, duh. Shoes? Yeah, probably that, too.

15.  There’re some parents that teach their kid if you get anything on your clothes to change it. These are the impossible kids.

16.  Then there’s the parents that don’t care if their kid looks like a meatball. These are impossible kids as well.

17.  You’ll more than likely receive critical complaints that you’re interrupting such and suches child’s life since you came there.

18.  This parent’s child will also more than likely be the friendliest one.

19.  Children will often call you by the wrong name—on purpose. They’ll also address every parent by their name promptly—whether said parent enjoys this or not.

20.  Crying is a major thing that happens. All the time.

21.  “NOBODY WILL PLAY WITH ME—NO I DIDN’T ASK, BUT THEY JUST WON’T,” tears. “SHE PINCHED ME,” bawling. “MY FOOD FELL ON THE FLOOR,” river of tears.

22.  There will be children that will talk very quietly, saying a bunch of nonsense. You’ll think it’s something important, and then they’ll cry about it.

23.  If you don’t like changing diapers, oh well, you’ll get used to it.

24.  You’ll also get used to kids jumping off the toilet, bending over and screaming “I NEED YOU TO WIPE ME.”

25.  If you take a picture of one of a couple of children, prepare for a flock asking for their picture.

26.  In order to keep a child’s hair out of their face, you MUST tell them that you’re giving them Elsa/Anna/Cinderella hair in order for this to happen.

27.  If you fix one’s hair, all little girls will flock around, too.

28.  Not stereotyping either, because if you’re a female with longer hair, prepare for little boys to flock around you to fix YOUR hair. Making you a “princess.”

29.  You’ll get the demand “hold me!” so many times you won’t even be able to count

30.  You may or may not know the parent, and if you do, it might get awkward.

31.  Seeing them in public could be awkward and/or a blessing as well.

32.  If one child is sick, prepare for them all to get sick.

33.  Prepare yourself, too. It’s a breeding ground.

34.  Get prepared for every single type of song-on repeat- every single day. Christmas in July? Definitely a thing. Halloween at Christmas? Of course. Kidz Bop? Everyday.

35. You’ll get hugs, hate glares, etc every single day from different children each day. At the end of the day, however, you’ll count every single one of them as a blessing and get very sad when they leave/you leave.