Navigating through the bullshit

Like most girls, I grew up entranced by Disney movies with princesses living happily ever after with their respective prince. My two favorites were "Cinderella" and "Sleeping Beauty," and I apparently watched those on repeat until my parents "lost" the VHS so they wouldn't be subjected to "Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo" for the millionth time. (Just kidding about the hiding the movie part...though the rents probably considered it on multiple occasions.)

By the time middle school and high school rolled around, I had upgraded from animated love stories to craptastic romantic comedies such as, "She's All That," "10 Things I Hate About You," and "Save the Last Dance." (Sadly, I own all these movies...and watch them everytime they come on TV. Super lame, I know.)

Now, the recent trend seems to be raunchy comedies starring Seth Rogen/Jason Segel/Paul Rudd. Don't get me wrong, I adore all these movies. They're hysterical.

HOWEVER, they are perpetuating the cycle of fairy tales for single women who have grown up being spoon-fed lie after lie.

Let me 'splain.

In the preschool/elementary school years, we're taught that a prince on a white horse will sweep us off our feet and we'll ride off into the sunset in domestic bliss.

By the time we're old enough to realize that there are approximately 8 princes in the entire world (and most of them are imbred), we're thrown a new heaping of bullshit.

Princes aren't realistic or attainable for the everyday girl, so he gets replaced by the hottest, most popular guy/biggest badass in school - enter Freddie Prinze Jr., Heath Ledger, Chris Klein, etc. They will ultimately be an deuche and make fun of you or they may not even know you exist. But by the end of the movie they've fallen head over heels for you and go to great lengths to show it - typically by chasing you down when you've decided they aren't worth your time and they have to prove to you they are.

Then high school comes and goes, along with the facade that men actually perform romantic gestures, and we enter college/the real world/a combination of the two.

No matter which one you enter first, the guys are all the same. It's become impossible for them to think with the head located above their belt, and they make it their goal in life to hook up with as many girls as possible because they're young and at the peak of their sex drive.

So, as women, we start getting used...A LOT. Because it takes a few times before we understand what a booty text is, or that a guy might not be taking us out to dinner because he actually wants to date us, or that he may come over a few times and "cuddle," but the moment we sleep with him, he pulls the disappearing man act.

Then someone hands us a copy of "He's Just Not That Into You," or we develop tough enough skin to the point where we become immune to any sort of romantic emotions at all. Because sometimes, it's easier to be numb.

And just when we thought we've got it all figured out, Hollywood execs find another way to fuck with our minds and pull at our heartstrings.

Because it's totally likely that a guy will stop being a pot head, get a real job, buy an apartment and want to marry you after a one-night stand resulted in you getting knocked up.

It's also nothing out of the ordinary for a self-proclaimed man-whore who insists love doesn't exist to fall for an up-tight, controlling woman and throw all his old theories out the window.

So, go ahead, ladies! Whore it up! Store guy(s) in your phone as "booty call." Have as much no- strings-attached sex as you want and fall for the assholes, because, ultimately they will profess their undying love and adoration for you. It's the new guaranteed way to land yourself a man!

Written out in black and white, it seems so obvious.

But the problem is - my problem is, stuff like this:

and this: and this:

...still make me swoon. Every time.

So, as women, how do we navigate between keeping our guard up, but not becoming a total Ice Queen, and wanting the fairy tale, but not getting our heart broken over and over again?

When I figure it out, I'll let you know.

At the end of the day, I know I want my own real life love story - one that would beat the hell out of any of these movies, but I'll pass on the fairy tale. How much fun would that be anyway?

I'm a Big Kid Now

I started my new job on Monday.

I now ride the Metro to work, read the newspaper during my 20-minute commute and get this....

I

have

my

own

office!!

With my own window and everything.

Holy shit do I feel official!!

I suddenly feel the need to go out and buy office decor. You know, make it home-y. Maybe even feng-shui my work nest to promote a serene, productive environment. (Ha!)

Let's be real, the more likely scenario is for me to hang posters similar to those gracing the walls in my college dorm room. I.e. pieces of art such as:

and

Yes, that is a poster depicting different kinds of mullets and yes, I actually had this hanging up during my college years. Don't ask me why, but I think mullets are the most hilarious things ever. I even have a code word for when I see them out and about - you can't master the art of mullet hunting without a kick-ass code word.

And of course, I'll also need the obligatory DMB, Animal House and shirtless Paul Walker posters adorning my walls.

I think I'd be the hit of the office and the new favorite employee of the CEO.

The most hilarious thing about my new job though has to be that blogging has helped me. Seriously. I'm editing and posting web content using a program eerily similar to blogger. I never thought blogging would help me in the professional world but I am living, breathing proof that it can.

And I'm pretty sure this job will also help me develop a cooler blog once I start learning more about HTML coding. It's a win-win situation really.

In all seriousness, I'm really excited about this gig. I think it will really broaden my skills and experience and open a lot of new doors for me professionally.

It's an adjustment riding the crowded metro, weaving around the homeless people scattered up and down the streets, paying $10 for lunch and getting used to the all the hustle and bustle of a city. But I think I'm gonna like it. It doesn't hurt that there's a bar at the ground floor of my office. Coincedence? I think not.

The Quarter-Life Crisis is Setting in…Big Time

This is pretty much how I've felt lately.

I turn 25 on Thursday. I remember when I was five, cooking dinner at my PlaySkool kitchen, and imagining myself at this age living in an all-brick house with my husband, two cats, golden retriever and a baby on the way.

What the f was I thinking??!!

I guess I figured since my mom married my dad at 24 and had me at 25, that life would pan out similarly for me. (Interesting family fact: my mom had me at 25, my grandma had my mom at 25, and my great-grandmother had my grandma at 25. Don’t worry, I’ve been making The Hoff double-bag it just in case history decides to repeat itself for the fourth time.)

I’m definitely nowhere close to getting married and the idea of a baby terrifies me. (Maybe it’s the breastfeeding calls I get from women fighting back tears while they tell me that the skin on their nipple has completely fallen off. Dear God, the girls ache just thinking about that.)

But at this point in my life, with my friends going in a million different directions, it really makes me stop and wonder if I’m on the right path.

There are those friends who have gotten married, bought a house and are settling into domestic bliss; the ones who are in grad school/law school/med school, studying ridiculous hard and partying even harder (as my friend Law Student put it, “when I was in undergrad, I drank more to be social, in law school, I drink to get obliterated”); and the ones like me, who work boring 9-5 jobs and then drink the weekends away, only to curse Monday when it rolls around again, all the while trying to navigate the dating scene, or lack there of. (I apologize for that atrocious run-on sentence.)

Which begs the question: Is this really what life is about?

Since college, I kinda feel like I’ve been skydiving without a parachute- just free-falling and desperately hoping to find a way to avoid hitting the ground/a tree/side of a mountain. Definitely feel like I’ve come close a few times…

Not a very uplifting analogy, but you get the idea.

So, where do I go from here?

I picked a career (print journalism) with a very bleak future. After finally landing a job in that field, I was laid off 14 months later. Now, I’m working somewhere that has nothing to do with my skills, talents or degree and I have to fight the urge to smash my head against the wall fifty times a day due to boredom. Do I pick a new career path? Go back to school? Keep trying to land my dream job?

I live in a city that I like, but don’t love. I’m a southern girl, and I miss people saying “y’all,” holding my door open for me, random strangers striking up a conversation and peaceful drivers who don’t honk every two seconds. But I also enjoy how much there is to do here, how I haven’t even put a dent into all the museums, art galleries, exhibits there are to visit, and the fact that I can go out at night and not run into ten people from my high school. As The Clash so epically sang, “Should I stay or should I go?”

I guess this is where things get scary – the unknown/uncertain. What you want out of life, who you want in it, even where you want to live your life.

All questions to ponder/reflect on/freak out about I suppose. In the meantime, I'll hold firm to the belief that I’ll eventually grow some wings to help me fly like that damn eagle the Steve Miller Band was talking about and land blissfully into the life I want for myself.