Because What I Say is Mildly Interesting

A peek into what my mind wanders through

The Candy Crush Saga… of life

I used to look down on those that played Candy Crush.  I didn’t get it–what was so compelling about a game that was essentially Bejeweled but looked as if it were made for 4-year-olds?  Granted, I loved Bejeweled–because I was an adult–I wasn’t going to settle for Candy Land’s version of it.  But then one day came when I was fed up with Song Pop and had no desire to play Draw Something; I needed a change.  So I downloaded Candy Crush.

The first few levels only reaffirmed my belief that it was a dumb game since it was extremely easy and not overly compelling.  But then the levels added new tricks and spins that Bejeweled never did–I have to clear the jelly?  I have to bring the acorns and cherries to the bottom?  YOU MEAN I HAVE TO NOT ONLY CLEAR ALL THE JELLY BUT ALSO FACE A POINT MINIMUM AS WELL??  And then there was no turning back: I was hooked.

Candy Crush addiction is not an uncommon thing, though granted it’s one that not many people are proud of.  I’ve always been fairly good about owning my traits that others look down upon (liking Nickelback, watching Devious Maids, licking the plate at restaurants, etc.), and with Candy Crush it is no different.  This might be due to the fact that there are literally millions of people who are in the same boat as myself.  But if something is addictive, isn’t it usually bad?  That’s why I decided to take a closer look at Candy Crush and explain how being addicted to it is actually a good thing.

Candy Crush teaches you to never give up

It’s all about persistence: a trait smiled upon in today’s society.  Do companies hire the person who merely submits a resume on LinkedIn?  Hell no!  They hire the person who follows up and calls and keeps in touch.  When times get tough, you can’t just give up and walk away.  I played one level for 3 weeks straight.  I thought I would never beat it, and oh the joy I had when I finally was able to go to the next level!

Candy Crush teaches you that hard work pays off

Just when you think there’s no way you’re going to be able to tackle all those pesky chocolates, you do, and Lemonade Lake is filled again!  See, with Candy Crush, goal setting is highlighted and emphasized–by setting the goal to beat the level, you make so many bizarre creatures happy, and how rewarding is that?  You accomplished what you set out to do, and everybody wins (except for maybe your phone battery).

Candy Crush teaches you that it’s okay to ask for help

Humility is also a trait that people should have.  Some people will never advance in this world because they are too proud to ask for help.  By linking to Facebook, the only way you can get to another level is to ask a friend.  I guess I myself have not matured that much and am still too stubborn as I have yet to link to Facebook.

Candy Crush teaches you to be innovative

Did you know if you run out of lives, you don’t merely have to sit on your ass and wait for new lives?  YOU CAN CHANGE THE DATE IN YOUR PHONE AND GET 5 NEW LIVES!!!  Imagine if we were all that innovative in our daily lives–we would get so much more done.

Candy Crush teaches you that when you find that special someone, it’s magic

You know the feeling: when you’ve found “your person” and everything feels right?  That you can take on the world together and nothing can tear you apart?  That’s how I felt when I, for the first time, was able to combine two chocolate sprinkled cake balls together, and was in awe of what happened next: beautiful lasers shot out and destroyed everything in their path–red crescent candies, orange ovals, purple flowers–everything.  That’s what true love is: knowing you can accomplish anything once you’ve found that special person.


So next time you make fun of someone crushing away, just remember: they’re bettering themselves as a person, and learning valuable lessons in the process.


The Definition of a Slut

It even sounds like a dirty word–you have the seductive “S” followed by a short, harsh sound.  But what does it mean?  The dictionary defines the word as “an immoral or dissolute woman; prostitute.”  Obviously throwing out prostitute is going a little too far–they could’ve at least said hooker.  But, as usual, I digress.  There is so much more to the word than alluding that someone is getting paid for OTPHJs.  I’m going to spend this blog going over all of the acceptable definitions of the word, in hopes to better educate America.  Lehgo:

A Slut is…

  • Anyone who is not my friend
    ex: “Ugh, look at that slut on the treadmill.”
  • What you can call your friends.
    ex: “Hey, Slut?  How’s it going?”
  • Anyone who talks to my boyfriend
    ex: “Who does that slut think she is?  That’s MY man.”
  • If my friends talk to my boyfriend and I’ve had too much to drink/I’m PMSing
    ex: “She’s such a slut!  She knows I love him!  WHY IS SHE DOING THIS TO ME AFTER I LET HER BORROW MY SHOES?!?”
  • Anyone wearing the same outfit as me/wearing something that I also own even if I’m not wearing it
    ex: “That SLUT has my dress on!”
  • Anyone who hurts my friends
    ex: “I can’t believe she gave you the stink eye–what a slut.”
  • Anyone wearing too much eye makeup/red lipstick.
    ex: “You’d think that slut was off to a rainbow party.”
  • Anyone who’s a bitch
    ex: “This slut totally cut me off on the highway earlier.”
  • Anyone who has a punch card at the STD clinic
    ex: “Look at that slut–walking around like she owns Chlamydia.”
  • Anyone who is dressed more provocatively than I am.
    ex: “You can totally see that slut’s underwear.”

There’s so much depth to the word that I can only begin to scratch the surface.  However, what I can do is offer you a flurry of synonyms to use in instances where someone is embodying more than one trait of sluttiness.

“That whore!  What kind of floozy thinks she can steal my parking space AND talk to my boyfriend while wearing some skanky top?  She looks like a streetwalker! I bet that jezebel has all kind of STDs–probably from all of her years of being a trollop.  What a strumpet.  And could her makeup be more hooker-esque?  Ugh she is SUCH a hussy!”

Lastly, I would like to end on one defining statement: We’re all a bunch of sluts.  Every last one of us.

You’re Beautiful. Say it, own it, believe it.

For those of you that know me, you know that I would much rather be witty and sarcastic and make people laugh than write something with an agenda.  But, if you do actually know me, you also know I’m incredibly petty and bitter—I try my best to turn it into something positive with my blogs, but this is something that has bothered me for a while that I really want to talk about.

In every single post I mention at least one time that women (mainly me) are crazy.  I will never deny that.  However, I never go into too much depth about what causes craziness in women.  One of the primary catalysts to craziness is jealousy, which stems from insecurity.  Women are considered crazy when they act jealous à they are jealous because of their insecurity à they are insecure because of men.  Whenever guys complain about a crazy girl annoying them I get so frustrated because they made them that way in the first place. No, they may not personally done it, but one of their penis-toting brethren definitely did.  I realize I’m going off on a tangent, so I’ll try and be more precise in my thoughts.

Every woman is beautiful.  We are nurturing, loving, caring (yes, I realize those are all pretty much synonyms), and we really just want to be loved.  We do not realize we’re ugly until someone points it out, namely a man.  From the time I was old enough to know I was ugly (when a boy on the playground told me so) until I was 21, I fully believed it.  I have spent the majority of my life absolutely hating my appearance.  Some good has come from it: I consider myself to be very nice, funny, and selfless—the kind of girl you know will always have your back and always be there to cheer you up.  I did this because I did not have looks to fall back on.  Society has taught us that beauty pretty much trumps all: you can be mean, stupid, and carless, but if you’ve got a decent face and body you will go far in life.  It’s sad, but true.

People will always gossip and talk behind the backs of others—I’m guilty of it as well.  But what gives any person the right to say directly to your face that they find you unattractive?  What is the point of that?  It’s one thing if you see a guy you like talking to a girl and you pettily say to your friend, “I’m better looking than her,” but to directly confront the girl and say that?  Obviously that’s out of line.  Yes, there’s a bit of a double standard, because really it shouldn’t be an issue at all, but unfortunately that’s the world we live in.

Here are some of the things people have felt they needed to tell me:

  1. Your nose is so big it should have its own gravitational orbit
  2. You have a great personality, but not so great face
  3. You look like a man
  4. You totally have a dick
  5. You’re so hairy I bet only guys who are into bestiality would be into you
  6. I’m shocked that anyone would ever find you attractive
  7. Your skin is so awful and ugly—do something about it
  8. You have man arms
  9. You’re so ugly I hate you

For a few weeks in high school I received regular phone calls from a group of people who just wanted to tell me I was ugly.  They wrote “Man” on a traffic cone and put it on top of my car.  I also received an anonymous typed letter someone slid through the crack of my window into my car telling me I was the ugliest person they had ever met.  And even if there weren’t people directly telling me how ugly I was, I was hearing it from the media.  Magazines kept telling me to work out because fitness was “hot” and yet I worked out all the time and was too muscular and no guy would want me because I wasn’t feminine enough.  I had horrible, pale skin, was far too muscular, had a big nose, and jacked up eyebrows (thank you, Italian heritage).  I ask again: what is the point of telling someone directly to their face they are unattractive?  How does telling someone they’re ugly make you feel better?

I know I’m not the only one that feels this way: being a teenage girl is one of the most difficult things in the world.  What sucks is that when you do finally start to gain some confidence, you’re shot down and thought of as cocky and conceited.  In high school guys didn’t like me because I was too fit—now it’s one of the main things they find attractive about me.  But, heaven forbid if I should have a day where my cellulite seems to be slightly less cottage cheese like and my skin isn’t greasy, and I decide to say, “I think I’m pretty,” because then I’m just conceited.  I can’t win.  And it sucks because I let it happen: I work out to stay in shape because I like the way it looks, but I only like it because I know that guys will find it attractive.  I will literally spend hours at the gym for the sole purpose of wanting to be perceived as attractive.  I know I’m funny, sweet, and have a lot to offer, but damn it if society and men haven’t convinced me that looks trump everything else.

Basically, here’s what my rant boils down to: never, under any circumstances, should someone tell someone they’re ugly.  Everyone deserves to be told they’re beautiful, and there is someone out there that thinks that.  What makes you the expert on beauty and gives you the right to make those decrees?  Are you flawless?  Half the guys that insulted me growing up are now grotesquely overweight and some of them have done jail time.  #Winners.  It needs to be stopped at a young age so girls don’t grow up and become bat shit crazy like myself.  I wish someone had told me as a young, insecure adolescent that I was pretty and made me believe it.  Whatever shred of confidence I manage to muster up, I still have problems believing someone when they say I’m pretty because of all the crap that I had to deal with growing up and in relationships (I’ve even had boyfriends tell me I’m not pretty).  And to think, I probably had it easier than half the girls out there.

I’m not saying you shouldn’t be entitled to an opinion, but try to build confidence rather than destroy it.  For every, “You look like you got hit with the ugly stick,” replace it with three, “You look really nice today.”  For the guys out there, if your girlfriend flips out because you’re checking out another girl, don’t you realize that guys have been telling her all her life she’s not good enough?  You know you’ve done something to crush a girl’s heart in the past, and this has what’s come of it.  Have some sympathy.  And girls: you are absolutely beautiful, and never for a second let anyone tell you that you’re not.

I realize this was completely jumbled and not well organized—that’s what I get for letting passion take control of the keyboard.  Thanks for listening.

Why Girls Eat Their Feelings

Probably one of the main things men do not understand about women is the need to eat our feelings.  And why should they?  We’re majestic, beautiful creatures they could only hope of one day understanding.  But I digress.

I have been eating my feelings ever since I can remember.  I blame my parents.  When I was 4 years old, I learned how to swim.  I was scared out of my mind, and didn’t want to swim to the second black line in the pool where my dad was standing.  So what did they do?  They told me if I swam to where my dad was, they would get me a Disney chocolate bar (remember those things?  Nestle chocolate bars that had scenes from Disney movies etched into it–brilliant sales tactic for young girls like myself–I GET TO EAT SIMBA!!).  So there you have it: I was scared, so I got some chocolate.  And thus the addiction began.  And I am not alone.

Why do girls eat when they’re sad?

Women are constantly filled with guilt.  We get it from our mothers, and it’s what makes us so good at guilt tripping our boyfriends.  And, because we are forever on a quest to look skinny, we deny ourselves delicious, fatty foods.  So, when we’re sad because we got dumped or got into a fight with our mom, we pig out.  The other night I fought with my boyfriend and immediately went out and bought a piece of six layer chocolate cake.  I chased it with some sesame chicken and broccoli, and topped it off with 3/4 of a pint of white chocolate raspberry truffle ice cream.  I felt 10 times worse after, but now the pain was coming from the fact that my stomach was going to burst and I felt so guilty for consuming those worthless, excessive calories.  I projected my sadness onto the food, because I would much rather feel guilty over eating too much than feel sad.

Why do girls eat when they’re on their periods?

There are more scientific reasons behind this phenomenon.  Prior to our periods, in the feared PMS stage, our bodies release high amounts of estrogen, AKA the crazy bitch hormone.  I find I mainly alternate between pointless depression and irrational anger.  So I grab some chocolate.  It is a scientific fact that chocolate acts as a sponge for excess estrogen.  When it’s uncontrollably coursing through my veins and I rudely snap at you, just give me a chocolate bar and watch it soak up the hormones and allow me to return to normal. 

When PMS ends and our period begins, we become bloated.  This is our bodies way of encouraging us to eat more by making more room for food–if your stomach is going to be big and obnoxious anyway, why not fill it with something delicious?  Fact.

Why do girls eat when they’re angry?

Guys will go to the gym and punch some punching bags.  Or drink excessively.  Girls will take out their hostilities and aggression through vigorous chewing–take that, potato chip!

Why do girls eat when they’re happy?

When I accepted my job here in Charlotte, I spent the next few hours at the airport waiting for my flight.  I had just gotten my first big girl job, and I was going to reward myself.  I looked around, and my eyes were drawn to an angelic light surrounding one place: Cinnabon.  I was so happy that I was officially employed and was going to be living near my boyfriend that I just wanted to keep the party going and eat food that would make me happy.

Why do girls eat when they’re scared?

It’s called comfort food for a reason.  When we were younger we had our security blankets.  Now we have biscuits and gravy.

Why do girls always have an excuse for eating?

Because we’re filled in glass cases of emotions!!  But seriously, girls will find a reason to eat whatever they want.  I sometimes will spend 3 hours in the gym for the sole purpose so I don’t have to feel bad about eating more than a sumo wrestler, so yes, I am going to eat whatever the hell I want and please don’t respond with, “OMG you’re so lucky you can eat whatever you want and stay fit.”

I’m also just addicted to food…

What The Bachelor/Bachelorette Has Taught Me

My boyfriend once quoted a statistic of women who watch Reality TV Dating Shows being less satisfied with their love lives than women who don’t.  Obviously the premise behind this is saying that when women watch shows like The Bachelor/Bachelorette where individuals are whisked away on fabulous vacations and one-of-a-kind dates on ABC’s dime in hopes to find love, they find their own relationships unsatisfying.  That statement is stupid because there’s no way of truly proving it: maybe the girls who participated in the surveys were dating douchebags.  Or maybe the girls who were satisfied in their relationships were so busy eating Chocolates and reading that thoughtful “Just because” card their boyfriend left them that they didn’t have time to watch The Bachelor.  Either way, he claims over and over again I would never complain about anything that he does if I refrained from watching such “garbage.”  Sorry, honey–your snoring would be a nuisance even if this show never existed.

I disagree with his rants and raves, because I’ve actually learned a lot from watching this “ridiculous and unrealistic” shows.

1.  Keep your composure when being dumped and handle it with maturity.  It’s not cute to cry in the back of a limo when you were snubbed a rose by that girl that was there for the “wrong reasons.” Plus, you met him 4 weeks ago.  Come on.  But seriously–I can’t tell you the amount of ugly crying and screaming, “What??  I’m just not good enough for you?!  IS IT BECAUSE MY BOOBS AREN’T BIG ENOUGH?!” I’ve done post break up.  When Bachelor (and all around hottie) Sean Lowe broke up with Lindsay to propose to Catherine, she wished him the best of luck and walked away, only letting a few tears fall when she was in the privacy of a limo.  I didn’t really care for Lindsay, but had so much respect for her for being that chill after having her heart broken on national television.  Props.

2.  Jealousy gets you nowhere.  I get fussy when my boyfriend says a girl on TV is hott–these gals and guys have to deal with their significant other dating up to 24 other people at a time.  It really puts things into perspective, especially when the ones who are going on and on about being jealous get axed when the Bachelor(ette) gets tired of putting up with their shiz.

3.  Be nice to everyone.  This applies more so from watching The Bachelorette than The Bachelor, because girls are so catty and it makes great television.  These guys are able to form bromances despite all going after the same chick.  I suppose this is something girls should just learn from guys in general, but nah, don’t feel like giving them the credit.  Case in point: Emily Maynard dumped several men before selecting Jef to be her beau, and Jef maintained great friendships with some of her castoffs.  I’d like to think I could do the same, but let’s face it: I’m too mentally unstable.

4.  You cannot be a contestant on The Bachelorette unless you can rock the middle part.  This is why I can never be on the show.  So sad.

5.  A trip to the hospital will work in your favor, but limit the sympathy to one trip.  This one probably goes without saying, because sympathy can get you many places.  However, there’s a limit to the amount of bodily injury you suffer through before it gets old.  Every season at least one individual has to leave a date to go to the hospital for dehydration, broken bones, attention, etc.  Now, while they lose out on time trying to woo the girl or guy, they end up either with a rose or special one on one time due to the Bachelor(ette) feeling sorry for them.  BUT DON’T ABUSE THIS POWER.  Tierra fricken “hurt herself” way too many times on her season, and while it got her a lot of attention from Sean, eventually the victim card got old and her told her to GTFO (obviously not his exact choice of words, since he’s a true gentleman).  Even the most nurturing and caring of people will get tired of always having to say, “Awww, you poor thing!”

There you have it, folks.  I’m a better

Why Girls Use Social Media

Ah, social media…  And to think, I used to be so happy/completely obsessed with AOL Instant Messenger—oh how we’ve evolved.  My journey into the social media world began the summer after 5th grade when I convinced my mom I was “mature” enough to get a screen name, and thus TallGurl1221 was born.  Fast forward to 8th grade, and suddenly Myspace was all the rage.  In the Fall of my sophomore year in High School (2005), I was so agitated that I couldn’t access Myspace from the school’s computers that I decided to make a Facebook account.  This was back when you had to be invited to join, and they only recently let high schooler kids in on the social network (you couldn’t befriend college kids at the time—perhaps they were trying to limit statutory rape,who knows).  I’m not even going to delve into all the blogs I kept throughout the years, because obvi this one is the only one that matters. 

But enough about my boring history.  Today’s blog will be about why girls use today’s social media.

1. For Attention.
One of the great things about Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram is it allows tens, hundreds, or even thousands of people easy access to you.  And girls will take full advantage of it.  Why do you think there’s so many “No Makeup Day” selfies, or, “Lake Day” bikini pics?  The absolute only, and I repeat, ONLY reason a girl will post that is because they want other people to “like”, re-tweet, share, and comment saying things like, “I’m so jealous of how pretty you are!” “You look beautiful!”  “Let’s bang!”  Do I make sure I’ve been hitting the gym religiously if I’m going to a beach where iPhones and digital cameras are present?  You bet your spray tanned ass I do.

2. To be “Funny.”
Funny is in quotes for two reasons.  The first is because, as much as it pains me to say, girls are inherently not funny (obviously there are the exceptions that make the rule—Chelsea Handler, Amy Schumer, me).  The second is because half the time girls try too hard to be funny, don’t know what funny is, or guys lie and tell them they’re funny in an effort to hook up with them, which is essentially an extension of the first reason.  When we’re not seeking out attention for beauty acclaim, we’re carefully crafting out our word choices in an effort to make people laugh and thus receive more likes, re-tweets, shares, and comments.  We’re selfish bitches—it’s not enough for you to comment on how jealous you are of our hottness; we have to be funny, too.

3. For Stalking.
This is probably my favorite aspect of social media.  My junior year of high school, the swim team awarded me with the “Most Likely to Facebook Stalk You” award.  At the time, I was embarrassed of my title and denied all FB Stalking accounts.  Now I embrace it.  The sheer amount of talent I possess in the realm of Facebook stalking is definitely on par with any professional government background search (except mine focuses on what people truly care about: relationship status and drama).  It pains the depths of my soul that Facebook creeping is so frowned upon—I’m even still victim to looking down on someone when they inadvertently confess to it.


Example: On Thanksgiving break of my junior year of college, I was hanging out with my friend who invited someone that I had known since Elementary School, but hadn’t spoken with since 6th  grade, to hang out with us.  We were talking about theme parties, and I mentioned how one of my favorites was an Anything But Clothes party, to which she said, “I saw your pics from it—they were so cute!”  I hadn’t attended an ABC party since my freshman year, and my first thought was, “What, are you stalking me?”  I should be flattered that anyone would care about what I post since a lot of it is completely pointless, anyway.  Also, who am I to judge when I’ll go on a photo viewing frenzy of people I haven’t seen, let alone spoken to, since high school, or maybe even middle school?  And don’t deny it: you’ve totally done it as well.

Here’s another example of someone who’s stalking tactics mirror my own and should be commended: I met a guy at the mall who played Football for FSU, and I mentioned I swam for Clemson and that my name was Maddie.  10 minutes later I had a new friend request on Facebook, which means this guy had to either Google search “Clemson Swimming Maddie” or go directly to the roster to look me up and search me on Facebook.  That’s both commitment and tech savvy.  Snaps to FSU Football Player dude.

I don’t even have a Twitter and sometimes will get on to look at my friend’s Tweets to see what they’re up to.  Am I that pathetic?  Or do I just the guts to admit what everyone secretly does and thinks?  And if you don’t do this then you might have a life, which is totally cool also.

So listen up, ladies—don’t get weirded out when you discover someone’s creeping on you.  It gives you the only reason you use social media for: attention.

Man, this combined with my “drive-by” blog might lead to some restraining orders.  Whoops.

The Most Shocking Thing on the Internet

This blog is gripping and cutting edge, and everyone likes to be shocked.  I’m about to drop a textual bomb that will make you question everything you ever thought you knew.  Do I risk losing my tens of readers and whatever little credibility I may have built from my Swimming Makes You Ugly and Boob blog?  You know it, but life is about taking risks, so here we go:

I like Nickelback.


There, I said it.  Your mouth is probably halfway to the floor by now.  And you know what? I don’t care.  If you’re really honest with yourself, you probably don’t hate Nickelback either, but you hopped on the bandwagon of bashing Nickelback because you lacked the balls or metaphorical lady balls to admit that they honestly do have some good songs.  Hate is such a harsh word, too—reserve it for when Taylor Swift steals your boyfriend (you know that bitch is one song and squinty eyed sloth smile away from jumping your man’s bones).

“But, like, all their songs sound the same.”  No, Chad Kroeger just has a very distinctive voice, so alter your statement to, “All of the singing sounds the same,” and then I’ll agree with you.  How can you honestly say that “Photograph” and “Animals” sound exactly the same?  That’s like saying, “I literally just want to have Mike Tyson punch me in the face repeatedly until I turn into a memory foam pillow.”  Exaggerate much?

And now you’re probably like, “Well, regardless, I think they suck, and so does everyone else.”  Right, that’s why they’ve made millions and millions of dollars and have been a successful band for the past 14 years.  People are totally buying their albums and concert tickets sarcastically—you nailed it.

And for all you guys that hate Nickelback with a fury deep within your loins, it obviously isn’t enough to stop you from frequenting strip clubs every Saturday night, because you know they’re just playing Nickelback albums on a loop intermixed with Pit Bull and Flo Rida.  Is that girl blowing dollar bills out of her hoo-ha really going to be as entertaining without Chad Kroeger rasping away sweet melodies about liquor and sex?  The moment would be lost and the ambiance ruined.

Honestly, I don’t care if you tell me you don’t like them and that my musical taste has been compromised because of it.  I remember my ex-boyfriend’s sister asking me if I liked Nickelback, and then leaning in to stage whisper to her brother, “Nickelback is my least favorite band in the entire world.”  Um, okay?  I find your shoes ugly, you gonna stop wearing them?  Oh, you are?  Grow a backbone.

What do I hope to accomplish with this blog, you ask?  I hope that my courage will inspire others to come forward, or at the very least let the scared, frightened Nickelback fans know that you are not alone–and it does get better.