The Batman Review

                The Batman sure packs a vengeful punch with a whopping 2 hour and 56-minute runtime. The star-studded cast was beautifully focused on their respective roles and led by director Matt Reeves into a dark, gritty, and enthralling story. The Batman premiered worldwide on March 4, 2022, and boasted $128 million at the box office on opening weekend.

               The movie skips the usual start of showing poor little Bruce losing his parents and finding the role of the bat – a happy plus in my opinion. Getting right into the grit of the story after many reboots felt right and left little to be desired. Throughout the movie, we learn little tidbits of information about the parents we do not get to see murdered and it helped the story flow without it being drawn out as it would have been if the movie centered around the orphaning in the beginning. The plot sets up a little slowly and I do feel like I got a little lost or maybe even distracted from it about halfway through. There were two major plot points and, I guess you could say two major villains. I completely forgot about the one even though they directly influenced each other. I am not saying that is necessarily bad, but it did leave me feeling a little stupid when I realized there was still most of the movie left to unfold. One interesting aspect of that is it leaves you feeling like the movie could have ended multiple times with a cliffhanger ending, but then BONUS MOVIE. Even with the long runtime, the movie never seems to drag. There is consistent action and a compelling enough storyline to keep my attention throughout.

               Pattinson really brings this role his all from the fight scenes to the more emotion-forward scenes. I know his casting was contested by a lot of people, but he brought the role into his own. I feel like he took aspects of other actors in that role and morphed them into a new type of Batman. The campy feeling of a Keaton and Clooney Batman and the grit of Bale came into this vengeful yet almost friendly hero of the neighborhood. Careful wording because this is a different universe. I like it and I am excited to see where he can take this Batman.

               Unfortunately for Pattinson, he was well overshadowed by the magnificent Paul Dano as The Riddler and the very unrecognizable Colin Farrell as The Penguin. These two dominated the screen anytime they were on. Dano is spectacular in every single second of screentime. Pumpkin pie anyone? There was a scene during a car chase, which made me feel like I was screwing around on the video game GTA, that Farrell was so into the character it made me wish there was more of him in the story. I think the ending may have set up a deeper storyline for him, but it is very open-ended. Let us not forget the other important characters in the movie: the ever-loyal James Gordon, played by the wonderful Jeffery Wright, continues to be the OG. The new Alfred, played by masterful actor Andy Serkis, did not get much screentime and that felt like a negative even though it did not hurt the overall plot. I will always want more Andy Serkis.

               Can we talk about the music? The perfect score by one of the greats (in my opinion), Michael Giacchino, delivered on every turn. It leads you in and out of every scene and brings tension or, no matter how dumb this may sound, JUSTICE to the forefront. He killed it yet again, but I never doubted him. I did NOT enjoy the multiple scenes where a dang headlight was turned right into the camera. I do not need to be blinded to enjoy this movie and my sensitive retinas do not thank you. One other thing I did not enjoy was the forced loved story. There does not need to be a love story in every movie, I do not know how many times people have to say it. There can be a movie with a male and female lead where they do not fall in love! GEEZ! 

At this point, I feel weird not having mentioned Zoe Cravitz. It is nothing against her, she played the role wonderfully, but her character was just eh throughout the movie. I wish they made her more compelling or gave her more to do. I do want to know how she afforded all those nice wigs though. Get me on that cat woman wig budget, please. 

In the end, The Batman came to play! Dano gave us the villain we deserve and pushed it to the limits with his performance. Pattinson did not let us down and I am so ready to see his Batman grow. The cast played together perfectly to give us a quality movie. I highly recommend seeing it!

But I AM Enough, Mom

 Let me start by saying that I love my mother. She is my inspiration for being unapologetically weird and throwing yourself into something with 100% effort even if you barely know what is going on. She has always backed my decisions and helped me talk through tough situations. Through every stupid fight and every smart-ass reply, she has been here. But sometimes, she makes me feel like I am less than worthy.

Tonight, my mother told me that she is suspicious of my relationship. I have been with Eric for almost two years and things have been wonderful. We are a team through and through. Yet, my mother told me she believes he is using me. Using me for what? I have no idea as I am in massive student loan debt, barely make enough money to pay said debt, and the fanciest thing I own is a Nintendo Switch. She said, "I mean, he is skinny and you're fat. I don't understand it. When I was younger, it was all about looks. I just worry that he is only with you to use you." As if, merely because of my weight, someone couldn't love me. If someone couldn't see the funny, creative, caring person beyond the fat. If I'm not deserving of a man that cares for me because of my rolls. 

I initially laughed it off. "What could I possibly have that he would use me for?" I told her I am happy with Eric, that he cares about me and loves me despite my body. The conversation ended. The day went on. But then we all sat down for dinner later and I couldn't focus. I didn't want to eat in front of her.

She handed me a plate and I said, "No, thank you." She questioned me and I simply said, "I'm not hungry." Before my shaking hands and stinging eyes gave me away, I had to leave the table. I came upstairs and sat in my room alone crying. Sobbing. Wishing it wasn't this way. Wishing I was skinny so you would just love me the way I am. Wishing I wasn't here anymore so no one had to talk to you about my weight behind my back. Wishing I could just be someone that you were proud of. Wishing I was beautiful. 

And then it all came back down again. For one of the very few times in my life, I had been feeling like maybe I was pretty. But it couldn't last. I am back. Back to thinking that, no matter what I do, I will always be ugly. 

**Side note: I have not said this to many people, but the main reason I have tattoos is that I want people to look at me and see something pretty. Since I honestly believe at this point that something will never be me, I hope that my tattoos will suffice. 

Whoops

 I was flat called out the other day by a friend. "Why haven't you been blogging?" She asked. I laughed, she laughed, then we both stopped and she said, "So?" Honestly, I'm a lazy POS. I keep telling myself to grind and get it done - there's no other way I'm going to be famous! But DAYUM, it's hard to get to it after a day of work where I feel drained as hell. 

So here I am, back at it tonight. Happy Easter, if that's your thing. I think Passover is going on too. Whatever you celebrate, happy day!

I've been brainstorming things for a few weeks. Things for my future and growing an online presence. I thought of a really good (maybe) idea before coming on to blog. What if I started a weekly video series called "Shannon Tries New Things"? I have some ideas of what I can do for a few weeks until I hopefully gain some viewers to suggest new stuff. Nothing too wild or gross, normal things - skills, arts and crafts, make-up/hair, foods - whatever! It could be entertaining for people to watch, right? I guess we can wait and see how it pans out. 

I didn't come on here with much of a plan for tonight. I hoped something would happen when I started typing, but nothing really flowed out of me tonight. Not that things usually do - unless you ask my boyfriend then I'm sure he would say farts do - but it was wishful thinking that something interesting would happen when I started pressing these dang keys. Star Wars music started playing so that is always a plus. I hope the next addition to my blog will be better. Someone comment and interact with me, please.

Any kind stranger want to pay off my student loans?

Wild N' Crazy Friday

 It's late. 

I've spent my Friday night alone in bed watching a rom-com. I'm not complaining, it was exactly what I wanted. Well, not exactly, but that's Stardew Valley's fault for having connection issues. This was my second choice after scrolling through Netflix. 

LOVE. Who the hell decided that needed to be packaged and sold? What a dumb idea. I understand everyone's experiences with love are different but do people really think rom-com love stories are real life? YES, we do. I'm a full-blown idiot for believing it, but I can't help even an ounce of it. Holly and Liam are from different backgrounds and social statuses - they were never supposed to meet but by pure chance, the two pick the same New York City exclusive hotel party and grab a free drink at the same time. Their love must overcome the staunchy high-life family of Holly versus the laidback willy nilly life of Liam while the two work on advancing their both well-respected careers. Will love persevere?! Of course it will, but I am here for the ride!

I do hate how it hits real life though. These romance tropes alter people. We are sold these ideas that one person can fix another solely by being "different". HOLY HELL, that is NOT true. If the person you're dating has done something terrible to the last 5 people, it will most likely happen again and it won't be magically better just because your smile is genuine and you "care more". If someone says no, it's NO, not "no but maybe if I keep trying it will be yes". How about we also stop acting like bringing someone to a wedding you just met to make an ex jealous is ever a good idea. If something is meant to be, it will happen. Forcing shit doesn't work. Shout out to the one guy I tried to force into a relationship after 3 months because I didn't want to wait and see if things were real - LOL my bad, bro.

It really makes me think about how things are right now. I'm not saying my relationship is perfect nor should people follow what I'm about to say as law. It's just what I think when this stuff comes to mind. Again, it's late. 

Things that rom-coms get wrong and right:

• Romance is whatever you want it to be. It's not one defined thing, it's what makes each individual (I forgot how to spell this word for a second) in the relationship happy. What one person might think is romantic might not be the same for another. Your friend might think grand gestures with big circus-like shows is the definition of romance, but another friend might find a partner making a favorite dish after a long day the most romantic gesture in the history of humankind. Don't get hung up on the romance of movies. The real world costs money and breaking into an ice rink to skate around is a felony. I think...I'm not a cop.
• The edge of sleep, late-night talks in a cozy bed with your partner are PRIME. Goofy, sincere, deep - it doesn't have set parameters, yet it's always perfect. When you hit that good talk, time doesn't matter. You have work the next day? I don't care, this moment has to last as long as possible. We can be sleepy later.
• Relationships are HARD. They have ups and downs, there is nothing you can do about that because life is going to hit you and that will push into your relationship. If it's worth it, you'll know. I don't know how, but you will. 
• This is the most important - NEVER doubt yourself because some asshat came into your life with a bad attitude. Some people aren't ready for a relationship. Some people aren't ready to appreciate you. You can try to make it better, sure. But don't keep trying when it's not getting better. Set a limit. Once that is reached, leave. Harder than it sounds, I know. You are worth everything. Your friends will be there. Your family. Someone will be there to help. 

It's late. I'm tired. This post hopefully makes sense to you like it does to me. Now please excuse me as I go to bed now.

Alexa, play "thunderstorm sounds".

Redirecting My Life...Maybe

Here I am. A 28-year-old New Jersey native trying to take a chance on myself and spend $48 to start a blog that could possibly make my future better.

C A R D  D E C L I N E D

I forgot that I set a bill to be taken from my account on the due date and not the day of sending the payment. When I thought my bank account looked fluffed, I should have known it was wrong. Rookie mistake? Probably. Did it make me depressed that this is my life? Definitely! It feels like that should not be happening at this age, but it does – not the card declined, but the depression because of money and the gigantic foreboding bills. I must budget better, especially with the insane amount I pay to student loans per month. It is getting incredibly difficult to see a real future with this hindrance. Imagine being 28 and having a net worth of -$150K and for what? Two degrees that mean nothing to the job market. Two degrees and still only making $32K per year. Dreams went out the window a long time ago.

So, Blogger. It is me and you. We are going to work hard and get a following, gain loyal readers, give the people entertainment, and write at least three times a week. I tried taking a chance and the world said, “NO,” in bold font. No chances for me, but back to the grind of Blogger.

From my past blog entries, you can see my mind is all over the place. It will continue to be like that. My posts will have no cohesive theme besides a GIF in every post and the shining gem that is Yingst writing. You will not see award-winning writing here, but you will be entertained. I will be posting an ongoing fanfiction once a week or so along with whatever is on my mind. Maybe some posts for products I find out-of-the-park amazing or ones that are so, so terrible it is not even fathomable.

 

Vader and Palpatine, the sith cats, say hello.

Delusions of Grandeur

Before you read anything, consider buying my book! Please? Thank you? Fuck myself? Cool


I have such a vivid imagination and it has definitely made my life interesting, to say the least. I've lived in so many different stories in my head alone, not even counting the real world where shenanigans were plenty. A lot of people compliment my "creative mind" and often wish they had a similar skill. I just wish I had a more realistic sense of the world.

These ever-growing ideas that swirl in my head have only made it harder to grow up in the "real world." I expected my life to be different by now - to have more umph if you will. Books, movies, tv all pointed to adults as these well put together with their worries being things like getting their kid's favorite toy for Christmas or rushing home because you left the country without one of your kids. Sorry, bad examples - it's the holidays and the examples are pretty limited right now with the lineup. You get the picture, though. I hope.

I thought my start to "adulthood" would be...bigger. Better. Not wetter though. It's plenty wet - I'll spare the details. I just expected more. A different job. A different town. A different love life. Different everything. Not that I'm complaining, per se. My life now isn't all that bad. I have a nice apartment - maybe not a working vacuum right now. And maybe I have to wait a few paychecks to be able to buy a new vacuum. But a nice apartment. A good job with great people. A loving family. I have like 1 or 2 real good friends. It's not all awful.

Compared to what I thought my life would be at this point? It's garbage. If all went like my imagination, I'd be in a loft apartment in Philly with big windows and a view of the dazzling city lights. Palpatine, my cat, still exists. He just has tons more room to run and more window perches. There would be a medium sized balcony where I could install a hot tub and still have room for a table, chairs, and a grill. My days would be spent working at a publishing house, working as an editor. Maybe I could teach one or two creative writing night classes. There would be people happy to see me come home, like cool neighbors that would bring wine over some nights that we happily drink out on the balcony, watching the city. One of my hilarious and handsome male neighbors would slowly fall in love with me and we would make each other happy. I've gotten carried away now.

I know, Han. I know. But I'd also have like two or three best-selling novels out too. You know, no big deal. I'd also like the underscore/dash key on my laptop to not be stuck down after Palpatine chewed it off. Went to fix it after writing that sentence and I'm pretty sure it's now completely broken off. Whoops.

I know I'm still young and I have a long road ahead of me in every aspect of life, but I'm so impatient and my mind keeps throwing out these ideas and it's making it so hard to see what I have now. This makes me sound ungrateful. I'm an asshole.



Also, been thinking a lot about nostalgia. I was OBSESSED with writing fanfiction when I was younger. In fact, I was 13 when I started writing and it was fanfiction that got me going. Embarrassing yet inspiring? None the less, I've been thinking about it a lot lately and even tried to go and read old fanfiction but my god it was all awful. We were just a bunch of overzealous kids trying to write complicated stories with absolutely no formal training. It was entertaining though. I was thinking about doing something similar on this blog. Maybe posting a chapter a week or more likely posting a chapter when I remember/feel like it. It wouldn't be so much fanfiction to readers as it would be to me as I'm writing it. It would feel like a normal story to you as you read along. I don't know if that is something people would be into or not. No one ever leaves comments on here so I'm going to assume it's a good idea and go for it starting soon. Good talk everyone. Glad you could be here.

Back with a Vengeance

I haven't posted in a long long time. Awful blogging, I know. This isn't my full-time job, so calm down. I'm doing my best.

Wanted to post something real. Not my usual blabbering with funny lines thrown in for a good kick. Real feelings. Gasp! I know. What the fuck am I doing?

There are a lot of people that would disagree with me, but it's hard to believe those people over the adamant opposers. I believe, deep down in my unchangeable soul, that I am ugly. I don't like to use that word because I do find it hard to believe that anything in this utterly amazing world is ugly, but me - I AM ugly. My eyes are too close together. My nose is too big. My skin is spotted with scars and blemishes. Fingers too short, hands too wide, chest too small, shoulders too wide, feet too square. The list goes on. The one redeemable quality I might like: my lips are sort of nice. But my smile? Hideous. My voice? Gargantuan.

Because of this, I am left with a serious problem. I don't trust others too easily when it comes to feelings. I put too much trust in the strangers I meet on dating apps, hoping they don't murder me when I meet them for the first time in a dark parking lot. But the men that actually might have feelings for me? Crazy. Unbelievable. Why would anyone in their right mind choose me over someone beautiful? And you know what? Very few people have chosen me over someone else. I get passed over time and time again. I'm so tired of it. I'm tired of coming in second. Tired of being the almost one.

I have a great job, make good money, pay my bills, about to move out on my own, about to have my first novel published - and yet, here I am. Still feeling like nothing I do will ever be good enough to catch someone's attention. Thinking no one will ever want to put in the effort to make me happy.  And maybe no one will ever fill that role. Maybe it's up to me and me alone to make myself happy. It sounds sad, but people shouldn't have to rely on others to feel something amazing. Sex jokes aside on that one.

While I do relish the thought of being with someone - being able to enjoy the small bliss relationships give off. Holding hands in public, the subtle nod that two people chose each other. The hugs. The big, warm, safe hugs. Secret kisses on the walk to the car after a lovely date night. Just being with someone you can put all your trust in with no question. I want that. I want that so bad. But, it's looking less and less likely for me if I can't see beauty in myself. If I can't let someone feel without questioning it.

Maybe I'm meant to be alone. Meant to be the odd family member that brings her dogs to family dinners instead of kids. The person people get to look to and think, "At least I'm not them." Everyone has a purpose, so that could be mine. I'll make people laugh and make them cherish what they have. I don't know the future. Wish I did. I wish I could see what happens so I wouldn't worry as much. Oh well. I'm giving up looking for the future and focusing on what I can for right now. My writing. Crafting my work and making it the best it can be. It's all I can do.

What A Bright Future...

...with little spots of darkness

When you're little, it is normal to have a crush on your parent. Little girls usually get all giddy and say they will marry their fathers and little boys swear their lives on their mother being their only one. It's cute, sometimes a little weird if the kid gets too old to be saying it. Possibly sort of serial killerish, too. Who am I to judge, though? 

Of course, when you get older, you might start to notice flaws in your parents. I'm not saying they are awful people, just little things you would rather not have to deal with in a forever partner. Obviously, your forever partner will als have flaws, but everyone does and it is stuff you can handle on a daily basis without wanting to shank him or her. Or maybe you do want to shank them, but you hold back. Love: it's crazy fucked up.

This is a very convoluted way to get to my main point: I don't want someone like my father. Don't get me wrong, I love my father. He works hard and never gives up on his family no matter what. He's always there if you need something. Like the time I ran out of gas on the way home from work and he showed up with a gas can and a sarcastic remark about me being smart. He yelled at my for a second on the phone, but he still left the warm house to come help me out in the cold weather. I'm not questioning him as a person or saying he is a shit father. He isn't what I want as a partner for one specific reason. 

He likes to believe in the old standards for men and women. 

 

He is a classic believer in women cook and clean while men do the handy work. I get that sometimes it's easier for one person to do something because they are more skilled in the one specific skill, but why leave it up to gender? In my almost 25 years of life, I have never once seen my father grocery shop. I joke with my mom that my dad will probably lose his shit when she dies because he won't know how to live. When he gets home from work, dinner is done. He puts his empty lunch containter in the sink and expects my mom to wash it for him so he can make his lunch for the next day with dinner leftovers. One time my mom refused to do it, "You won't serve your man?" He said it as a joke, but then when my mom still refused to do it because she also works just like him, he said he doesn't need lunch and will buy food from the food truck instead. 2 hours went by before my mom gave in and cleaned the container and made him lunch. 

You are a full grown man. You know how to soap a sponge and clean your shit and put food in a container. 

I don't understand why my mother lets him get away with petty shit like that. She will wait on him hand and foot and then complain that he never helps. If you expect him to do something, then you need to stop treating him like a child. The worst part is that my brother has seen my father do this and now expects the same. When he comes over for dinner, he does not one bit of help. He won't even bring his plate to the sink. My mom even goes as far as not asking him for help. One time, I said something to her about why I have to work so hard and my brother gets to sit on the couch.

"Because you are a girl and he is a man. Girls are supposed to do this."

Excuse me? Just because I was born with tits and a weird triangle between my legs, I have to work my ass off in the kitchen while the men get to drink and relax? I call bullshit. Shove me back in and send me out with a dong. I don't even care how much I love getting dicked down, I don't want to be a female if this is the type of shit I have to deal with my entire life. 

I remember one time my mom was commenting that the dish washer smelled a little funny. My dad said it's fine and it's supposed to clean itself when dishes are in there. I told him that's not right and you have to run it with no dishes every once in awhile to keep it clean. He told me that's not true. "Put dishes in and run it. See how clean it gets." Yes, because putting dirty dishes in there and expecting the entire thing to get clean makes so much sense. I tried telling him that it doesn't make sense and he said I don't know what I'm talking about. 

Girls are allowed to knows things men don't know, dad. Did I mention that my dad didn't know what a hymen was? Had to explain that to him when I laughed at a hockey player's name and how the announcers said, "And there's hymen, breaking in front of the net!"

I don't want a man that expects things to be done for him just because he has a penis. My weird triangle should not limit me to being your servant. 

...I'll serve that dick, though. 

Do You Hear What I Hear?

Christmas Themed!

But not really. I'm talking about the voices in my head. Not creepy voices. More like the voices that are planning out my future. It's me, but calmer and not as weird. The me that isn't singing The Diva Dance from The Fifth Element any time of day.

I'm going to get mushy. Are you ready for mushy? If not, please leave and come back when you are cause it's going to get grass after a downpour mushy. 3, 2, 1...

I cannot wait to be married to my best friend in the entire world. 

I'm not engaged nor am I currently dating anyone. The last "relationship" I was in ended because of my fear of moving too fast. I'm scared of getting into something and catching feelings, being vulnerable. I mostly keep offering to suck random dick when nothing else is working out. Yes, all terrible portions that do not, in any way equal a whole woman ready for a serious, deep relationship. But one day I'm going to be married to the best guy for me and we are going to be so god damn happy.

I was in bed. Friday night. Alone as usual. My life is a myriad of fun and exciting plans, obviously. After work, I had dinner with my parents and then took a shower. My hair is super soft and my skin is moisturized. Lightly scented with some cranberry and grapeseed. God knows how many fucking grapes you need for grapeseed oil. It was on sale at a discount beauty place. I see cheap that usually isn't cheap and I buy. Reason #35935 why I'm broke. Also $50 Philadelphia Flyers sneakers. Not my point. 

I'm in bed smelling good, feeling soft all over, cuddling my giant fluffy body pillow (Walmart, $12. You're welcome,) and I think to myself, "You know, a man right here next to me would be sublime right now." I'm not saying this is the only thing I think about, because anyone reading my blogs knows my brain is ALL over the place. It also isn't the only thing that I think will make me happy. This isn't about needing a man to survive. Fuck, I can survive without a man. There are tons of sex shops plus websites usually have free delivery.It was just...at that moment, that is the only thing I wanted. A guy that would smile at me just because he loves me. One that would hold me close as we fall asleep. The both of us so content with how our days went and now getting to spend our nights together. Our words not making sense as we fall asleep next to each other. 

Lately, my head has been projecting this awful idea that I'm just not pretty enough to be allowed the privilege of being attractive to anyone. I'm afraid that small children whipser to their mothers that I'm scary or that beautiful women pity me. Lately, I've been picturing my future as me alone. All my beautiful friends have families and someone by their side. I'm alone at my desk writing about what it's like to still be single in your 50s. Still singing The Diva Dance. I'm not upset about The Diva Dance part. 

I don't know what it was about tonight that made me feel different. That made me think I would actually be with someone. Maybe I had a good day. Maybe I shouldn't have microwaved that plastic cup and then eaten out of it. Either way, it was nice to think that maybe, just maybe I won't end up alone.

If you haven't guessed by now, I'm going to be a kick ass wife one day. I mean, just look at my high school yearbook, my sense of humor must be out of this world considering how many times it was referenced. Plus, that cranberry and grapeseed scent is damn delicious. Sometimes I smell like watermelon. Don't even get my started on how many different Chapstick flavors I have. 

17. I have 17 different Chapsticks. 

Sweet Child

You've been working hard

I know a lot of people my age have been working relentlessly hard to get even one rung up the ladder. I know a lot of people my age have also been under immense scrutiny for not being where others expect us to be for our age. And that fucking sucks.

"Go to college." We did that.

"Work hard to get good grades!" We did that, too.

"Well why aren't you doing the thing you went to school for?" Please, Susan. Stick to your dry meatloaf recipe and leave me alone. 

I don't know what else we are expected to do. I went to college, worked shitty summer jobs to get money, and even went back to get my M.F.A.  What do I have to show? Unemployed and cannot even get a call back from the local movie theater for a minimum wage job. You know why? I'm now overqualified. I did what I was told and now I can't even get a shit paying job. What a great time I'm having being belittled by my parents that don't understand why I'm stuck here with nothing to show.

I have friends that went for more "ambitious" and/or "useful" degrees and guess where they are right now. The same boat as me. Living at home, taking whatever work that comes along. Constantly pushing for the jobs we were told would be there once we obtained a degree. Not that I'm expecting a job, because that would play into the idea that everyone my age feels entitled to everything. I'm only relaying what was told to me as a young 18-year-old. I am constantly trying to explain to my parents what is going on right now:

The jobs expected to open up once I graduated are no longer opening up because people are working until they are 80 instead of retiring at 60 or 65 because things are so god damn expensive. It. Fucking. Sucks. 

My main point for this post is to let people know that you're doing great. It may not seem like things are going your way or you may feel like giving up, believe me, everyone feels that way. There is so much holding us back and so much making the future seem muddled. We will get there. And you know what? It's okay to take a break once in awhile to let your head get a better grip on what is going on.

You've worked hard to get here. Soak it in. If no one else has said it to you up to this point: I'm so proud of you. It doesn't matter where you are in life according to others. You know where you want to be, you know what you want out of life and you're working towards it one way or another. Someone might get to their goal before you, and it's okay. You can be a little envious, but don't let it distract you from your goal. Keep chugging away. Both at your goal and celebratory drinks (if you're into that.)

All I'm saying is that one day, I hope you're sitting in your dream house with whatever your dream is...be it a family, a garage full of exotic cars, your own beach, I don't know. Whatever you want. I hope you have it one day. Whether it be next week or years from now. Don't give up on yourself.

Things I'm Addicted To

Don't judge me

Having no job means no money. No money means I can't do shit besides sit at home and wish I was out. I also sometimes try and guilt my mom into buying me Taco Bell where I shame eat alone in my room and watch other people be happy on Netflix. C'est la vie!

My point is: I have nothing to really write about at the moment. So, I've come up with a list of weird things I'm addicted to. Hopefully others find these just as addicting, otherwise, I'm just a giant weirdo and all my sneaking suspicions that I'm too weird are correct. Probably the latter. Fuck.

Onto the list:

• Q-Tips, the number one thing you shouldn't do with these cotton angels is stick them in your ear and rub them around for that joyous eargasam. I used to do it at least twice a day because I cannot stand when my ears feel dirty. I also used to get a massive ear infection at least every other month. My tonsils and adenoids were removed because my ENT doctor told me that was the reason for my ear infections. Hahaha, major surgery because I'm a freaking weirdo. 

• Dyeing my hair, killing it with bleach and then drowning it in hair masks once a month (or when I remember and feel like it.) Give me all the colors and all the shades. I've wanted lilac hair for the longest time. Rose gold hair to make my eyes pop. But I'm an adult now and can't do that shit anymore. I have to stick to the normal colors like brown and blonde and red. 

• Cheese. Must I explain this one?

• Collecting weird things and never using them. I just cleaned out my trunk because I have a Groupon for a car detailing and need my car empty. I fucking found plastic golf clubs in there. I bought them in college to play mini golf in the dorms. No one ever wanted to play mini golf with me. Am I weird? Who the fuck doesn't wanna play mini golf? I also had a trident I made with a broom handle and cardboard stacked and cut to look like the top, all spray painted gold. It's cool as fuck, you can't even judge me for that one. 

• Star Wars. I wouldn't say it's an unhealthy obsession, but probably more bad than good. I could be minding my own business on Facebook and a god damn advertisement comes by like, "Star Wars character necklace HALF OFF!" Oh, fuck me sideways, HALF? There's no way I can't at least look at what they have to offer. As I sit there with my Millennium Falcon necklace on and a R2-D2 necklace hanging off my dresser with my BB-8 ring chilling on the shelf above me and the multitude of themed earrings sitting in my jewelry box with even more on my Amazon wishlist. I have my life in order, obviously. Just let me go eat popcorn out of my Stormtrooper head bowl and drink out of my Darth Vader cup. Did my Death Star ball roll behind the couch again? Why does my friend still have my Ewok stuffed animal? My Ewok tattoo is bigger than my Millennium Falcon tattoo, the Lightsaber one I eventually get has to be the same size as the Ewok I think. WHERE IS MY SECOND CHEWY STUFFED ANIMAL?! I've said too much. 

I think we are done here. 

Time For A New Post

I guess...


I honestly have nothing I want to write about this week. Realized last week that I wasn't changing the default font to match the font chosen for the first blog entry, so there's that lovely little tidbit. Not that anyone asked. 

Right now, I'm listening to "Her Voice" from The Little Mermaid on Broadway. I might be a little wet. Wow, probably TMI, but I'm writing an entire book about dicks and shit so is that really a problem at this point? Go listen to it if you've never heard it before. I'm sure every woman will sigh and men will probably scoff and mumble how they can sing like that if they wanted to (but deep down they really want to melt into that man's arms). What? Who said that? Not me. 

Anyone else usually enjoy the villain more than the hero? Prince Eric and Ariel are cool and all, but URSULA IS MY MAIN BITCH. Her songs have so much more depth rather than, "I'm a young teen and my dad is a jerk for not letting me go have fun!" Shit, Ursula is all, "People said I was a bitch, but I'm totally not..." as fucking lightning and shit is all around her. Totally not suspicious at all. Bad bitches don't play. 

Villains have the better story most of the time anyway. Who the hell cares about a Princess that started living with dwarfs or one that dances around a forest singing all the time? Give me that deep dark backstory with grit and body! The only shit villain I can think of at the moment is Gaston. GO FIND A DIFFERENT BOOTY TO CHASE, WTF.

Still listening to "Her Voice". That man could sing me to sleep every night if it were up to me. Instead, I grip my long ass body pillow and fall asleep wishing it was any man. Scratch that. I somehow still have standards even if I've been alone entirely too long. LOL WHAT ARE RELATIONSHIPS?

REPLAYS "HER VOICE" FOR THE UMPTEENTH TIME

You guys think Ursula had back problems? Those melons look heavy. 

I Missed Motivation Monday and That Beautiful Alliteration

Well, fuck

My apologies for the profanity right above, in the past posts, and in future posts. I curse a lot. I read somewhere once that it's a sign of intelligence. Did I research it further to confirm it? Nope. We can stick to it being true.

Anyway, I wanted to talk a little bit about the novel I'm currently working on. I finished graduate school in March of this year - M.F.A. in writing, 3.88 GPA. Go, me! Shame on me for slacking during a few classes, but I was working full-time and didn't give a shit a few times. Can you blame me? (Probably)

In order to finish the program, I had to write a thesis. Normal thing for graduate students as most of you probably know. There were only two guidelines besides length (80-100 pgs):

-Poetry had to be one poem per page, single-spaced

-Fiction and Non-Fiction had double-spaced

I looked up the guidelines a semester early, knowing I should get a head start. Thank fuck I did, otherwise, I would have been screwed in every sense of the word. Or lack thereof I should say since I had to stop seeing some hook-ups to get shit done. Let's say it sucked. No...it was stressful. Yes, no double entendre with stressful. 

There had been this idea in my head for some time, but I never actually sat down to write it. Online dating and the hell that is truly is. From the absolutely insane guys that scarf down giant burritos to impress me to the tame men that impersonate Jesus in their free time. Don't forget the weird sex encounters. I may have accidentally tried butt stuff once. 

I just wanted to throw out some of my favorite parts I've written so far so some people that aren't getting scenes sent to them random hours of the day can see what I've been up to recently. I really hope to get this published once I'm finished and it definitely helps to have people that would be interested going forward too. 

"I eventually found myself with his dick in my mouth. I really can't explain how it happened. We were kissing and next thing I know I was kissing his cock with my entire mouth. Weird how that happens, huh? Or does it only happen to me?"

"His tongue lazily licked around like he was licking an envelope closed. No, wait, that might have actually been nice. It was more like he had peanut butter stuck in his mouth and my vagina just happened to be in front of him during this unfortunate time."

"I offered him my fries, and he took that as an opportunity to unzip his pants. Now, please laugh with me as I explain the irony of offering him my French fries and him whipping out his own French fry of a penis in return."

"Did I need to take a shit on this guy to get him to leave or what? I guess I could have asked him to leave, but that's rude. Ruder than taking a shit on him? Debatable." 

Those are a few very short excerpts from my novel in progress and there's so much more to go! Here's to finishing it and getting it published! 

Nobody Likes You When You're 23

Wait, 24 definitely sucks more

I know I JUST posted the other day, but I was in bed staring at the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling (they weren't shining for me. You lied Owl City,) and I just started feeling this overwhelming sense of dread. Nothing too big, no existential crisis, just..."oh, fuck."

Me realizing I'm not adulting correctly and I'm expected to actually be adulting at this very minute:

Everyone else in the back cheering cause I make a really good example for everyone else my age that is sort of adulting cause at least they aren't me!

Seriously, think for a minute. 22, you're either just getting out of college, still in college, or have a steady job that is working great for you. 23, people are still figuring things out, kind of floating around and seeing how things work. Actual adults still think it's okay for you to be confused about bills and how life really works. Then 24 hits and suddenly you have to be grown-up. *Shivers*

My mom is suddenly dropping more and more hints about grandchildren and asking me when I'm going to settle down with someone.

"I just thought that, since you're getting older, you'd have been with this one forever." She casually said to me after I ended things with the one guy I had been seeing.

"I'm 24!" I laughed back at her. The longer I studied her face, the more I saw she was serious. What the actual shit?

How? Why? I'm still considering myself a kid when it comes to making decisions! This isn't..no!  I want to go back to 21 when I was still in college and allowed to make stupid decisions like getting drunk mid-day when my ex broke up with me on Valentine's day and eating half a pizza only to throw up in the sink and then eat more pizza and watch Disney movies! I want to live across the hall from my best friend and do stupid college papers and have that be my biggest complaint. Shit, now I'm over here worrying how I'm going to pay my car bill and actually be able to move out of my parent's house before I'm 30.

Send help.

That Time In Wisconsin

RockFest, anyone?

Don't ask why Sarah and I went halfway across the country to attend a rock festival because we have no real answer. When people ask us, we mostly look at each other and say, "Uh..." 

Let's be real for a second. How could we not have gone to this amazing festival? First of all, there were bands like Rob Zombie, Avenged Sevenfold, Slayer, Volbeat, Shinedown, the list goes on and on and on. Believe me, it was four days of absolute bliss. At least I thought it was going to be. 

So everyone knows: I'm not a camping person. I wouldn't say I was miserable, but I definitely wasn't happy. I was a little better when I gave up on trying to look like a decent human being and skipped daily showers since it was a long, uphill walk to the communal showers where I found a used band-aid in my stall and someone else yelled there was a bloody tampon in theirs. It got even better when I stopped trying to hide the fact that I poop because there were literal piles of shit in the port-o-potties. Let me tell you, when you see shit smeared across the port stall, you kind of lose any hope that you will make it out of it all unscathed. 

We got there early in order to be considered to win backstages passes. We, of course, didn't win shit. However, we did win the absolutely amazing thunderstorm package. Bad storms were making their way in and all we had was a discount tent and a car. I remember waking up around 1 or 2 from loud rumbles of thunder in the distance. I shuffled on my air mattress and tried to squint over at Sarah. I wasn't sure if she was awake or asleep, but I was already bugging out. How the fuck are we supposed to survive these bad storms in a god damn tent?  

Fast forward about an hour and the rain is pelting our tent with such power that you'd think it was hailing. Sarah moves around on her mattress and I see her sit up and look at me. 

"We should run for the car." She started to grab her stuff. Phone, speaker, anything electronic she had in there. I grabbed my phone and my damn stuffed animal. A bright burst of lighting went across the sky simultaneous with the loudest clap of thunder I heard up until that time (not long after that I almost shit myself out in a different thunderstorm but that's a different story). Sarah probably saw my face was like:

but I didn't have time to care what Sarah was seeing. I was about to bolt to the car as fast as my short little legs could take me. I stood outside the tent under the lowered canopy waiting for Sarah to close the tent and get alongside me so I didn't just ditch her (on the real, I'd ditch ANYONE if it was something more serious like a bear or Sasquatch I don't know.) Our little god damn blow up pool was sagging now with all the excess water building up, it was bound to break any minute now and it pretty much did the next morning. 

We get in her car dripping wet head to toe from that short run from the tent to the car. We start laughing. Kind of manically. 

"Well, this is it!" I laughed and wiped water off my face, pushing my hair out of the way.

"Probably for the night, look at the radar." Sarah showed me her phone and pointed to a spot on the map, "This is us." A small dot in the middle of a giant storm-colored mess. We looked at each other and laughed again. 

In the morning, we went into the tent and, wouldn't you know it, the entire thing was soaked. Mostly my side cause that's just my luck. I had two books in there that were ruined. My mattress and sheets were beyond soaked. So we did the only thing we could think.

We laid our mattresses out in the sun and hung our sheets all over the canopy and across her car like the most white-trash thing you've ever seen. We drank some cans of Mike's Hard Lemonade and sat by our deflating pool as new people drove in and stared. 

I wish we had a sign that said "Jersey" cause it would have explained a whole hell of a lot. 

Better Late Than Never

Not a period reference

I'm late with my second blog post. Part of me was hoping to do a post every Thursday, but we see how that worked out. I knew what I wanted to write about days ago, but I'm a slacker. On with it, then!

I met this guy. He is really quite amazing and probably everything a girl could ask for: charming, cute, caring, actually wanted to be seen with me in public. You know, all the important things. Especially that last one. Or not, I may be asking for too much on that one. 

Anyway. Imagine that! A man that honestly wants me and likes me and all that good stuff. (Though I'm pretty sure the sex helped sway him a little.) So, you obviously know what I did.

I GOT OUT OF THERE FASTER THAN A DOG WHEN IT HEARS A CHIP BAG OPENING. 

Sabotage? No, I'll go with stupidity. I essentially had the dream man, but then I spooked. 

"I thought he was going to be my future son-in-law!" My mom was very upset when I told her I ended things. "Are you serious?" She yelled and slammed down a bowl of white rice onto the dinner table. Her squinty eyes were somehow bigger than normal in a more almond shape, probably straining them so I could better see the disappointment. "You make your own decisions, but I don't agree with you." Thanks for having my back on that one, mom. 

"You wanted me to be unhappy just so I was with someone you like?" I tried. It didn't work. Her mom-beam was too over-bearing-- I MEAN...powerful. Yeah, powerful. Heh.

"You looked happy." Her pursed lips told me she was done with the discussion. Forget what I want, right? My dad sat at the other end of the table quietly like this: 

Truth is? This guy wrote me a love letter of sorts explaining how happy he was with me. Telling me that he felt exhilarated every time we were together. That he was falling for me.

I felt nothing.

How could I possibly allow it to go on anymore if I knew it wasn't going to be worth it for him? What if I stayed with him purely because he was a good guy that my mom happened to like and then a year down the road I realize I won't ever have feelings for him? And maybe a year down the road I could have ended up really liking him, no one knows how things like that work. But there's always the off chance I was just wasting his time. That's not fair for anyone. 

Or maybe I'm just a selfish asshole that has standards way higher than they should be? 

Tune in next week (or really later this week, who the hell knows what I'm doing) where I make more bad decisions!

Start This Engine

Wait, What?

Here I am, writing this between applying for jobs that I probably will never hear back from no matter what kind of education I have. Isn't that a great feeling? Having two degrees yet nowhere to go with them? Graduate high school, go to college, get a masters degree! Yeah, not working out for me. Thanks for the advice, world. 

I'm writing a book. My thesis for graduate school, extended and edited for the reading world. In the meantime, my mother keeps telling me to start a blog. 

"You know, Joe told me that you should start a blog! It apparently is the first step to everything in your field." Mom, the first mention of a blog.

"Have you started that blog?" Mom, the second mention. In the middle of dinner. My dad glanced up from his food. He was probably looking out the window. 

"Write a blog! You work with kids all day! They're funny. Write about them." My mom, the most recent mention. Not sure if she's trying to get me into a lawsuit or what. 

Moms never give up. I'm still confused if she wants me out of the house or to succeed. Who am I kidding? Both. Always both.  

I can't tell you how many times she has come home with some convoluted job proposal. So-and-so told her about some company and does this and that. Or some guy in the store told her about an opportunity to do something or other. My dad gets mad when I snip at my mom, asking her to stop sniffing around for a job. 

"She's getting you opportunities!" He yells and waves his hand at me angrily. 

She's trying her hardest and I appreciate that. But she never comes home with anything solid or actually worthwhile. She will either tell me about something that makes no sense or tell me about something that is completely out of my league right now. 

And that is just jobs! Don't even get me started on her trying to find me a man! She came home from getting gas one day, "Shan! There's a really good-looking man at Wawa. He smiled at me and took my card. You should go see him."

"I don't have to get gas?" I looked at her with my eyebrows scrunched yet raised in absolute mortified confusion. "Am I supposed to drive over there, see him, and then go, 'Oh! I didn't want to get gas!' and drive off?" 

That's exactly what she wanted me to do.