Me, abridged...

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I'm a "twenty-something". I am hopelessly awkward and romantic. I love music and movies and traveling and having new adventures. I teach first grade in South Carolina. These are my romantic musings and random ramblings.

Friday, June 14, 2013

Life imitating art.

I was watching "She's All That" recently, thanks to Netflix, and it got me thinking about predictable high school movies. Was anyone's high school actually like that? The extreme school spirit, the overly bitchy Mean Girls-esque popular crowd that does terrible things to the unfortunate, awkward and nerdy kids?  The popular boys making bets to see who can turn the weird, artsy girl into Prom Queen? The rich kids that discriminate against the poor kids? The cheerleaders cheering the name of a singular football player who is obviously carrying the entire team to victory all on his own? Either my high school was into going against the social norm or all of those movies are giving a completely unrealistic portrayal of high school. (What?! Movies are lying??)

I mean, no one poured pig's blood on me or anything or stood me up for the big dance. I was just a typical teenage girl, neither popular nor unpopular. The worst thing that ever happened to me happened my senior year, when I walked into a party and someone yelled, "What the F**K is Meredith Wicker doing here?!" like I was some sort of social pariah and making the party decidedly less cool with my unwanted presence. (In reality, I was just a really good girl who sang for the church band and had never been to a party with underage drinking before.) I also had a girl send me a carnation on Valentine's Day saying it was from this cute guy in hopes that I would go up and thank him and he would have no idea what I was talking about and I would be royally embarrassed. (Sorry for the run-on sentence.) Thankfully, I figured out it was an evil trick and saved myself from further social awkwardness. I guess people WERE a little mean at my high school?

But fear not, awkward high schoolers, none of that crap even matters when you graduate. No one cares if you were picked on or not. Many of the "cool kids" end up not going to college, staying in their home towns, and hanging out with the same people for the rest of their lives.  The football players will likely gain huge beer bellies and still throw parties for underage kids, while the weird, artsy girl becomes a famous painter or a graphic designer who lives in a hip loft apartment in New York City.  Life can sometimes be wonderfully fair.

Saturday, June 8, 2013

An Ode to Summer

Oh, summer time...the season of sun-kissed skin, sandy toes, and windows and sun-roof rolled down to let in the summer breeze. No one ever mentions the over-friendly mosquitoes, "Palmetto Bugs"-aka cockroaches-the size of your hand, or the miserable humidity.  My "summer look" consists of an abnormal amount of freckles and moles (thanks, English/German/Irish ancestors!); my "sun-kissed" skin turns just slightly pink all summer, never tan or brown, and the humidity makes my wavy-ish hair frizzy and disgusting. (What's up with girls loving their "beachy waves"? No such thing exists for me. My hair turns into dreadlocks after I emerge from the ocean.)  Also, I'm not going to beat around the bush...I don't have a summer glow; I'm just sweating from the humidity. ALL THE TIME. (And everyone wonders why I prefer fall in the mountains so much?)

Now don't get me wrong, living in a sleepy, Southern beach town during the summer does have its perks:
1.) I don't have to drive far to get to the beach. (Which would be more of a perk if I actually tanned.) None of that packing up all your crap and driving 2 hours. It takes me less than 5 minutes.
2.) Our town has a ballin' fourth of July parade. And a boat parade. TOP THAT, AMERICA.
3.) The likelihood of meeting an attractive guy that you DIDN'T go to high school with increases ten-fold because it's tourist season. (Downside: he leaves after a week and it's back to the same old familiars.)
4.) I don't have to work in the summer because I'm a teacher. To all of those who didn't choose this career path because of the monetary aspect: You don't have summers off, suckas!
5.) I get to see scenery like this, every day:
(Yes, that's my leg. It actually looks tan thanks to the filter. Thanks, Instagram!)


Sunday, June 2, 2013

What was I thinking?!

Have you ever looked back at someone you were dating and wondered what the heck you were thinking when you liked them? Like, just the sight of them now makes you angry, annoyed, and/or physically ill?  And the very thought of them touching you makes you want to run and hide?  (Or buy a taser and some pepper spray?)

Breaking up IS tough to do.  Personally, I find that the easiest way to do it is to be blunt and straight forward and hurt their feelings a little bit, just to make sure that they don't still pine for you. (I wish I could say that this actually works for me. It doesn't.)  I am unfortunately sometimes the "one that got away" or in some cases "the one that sprinted far, far away in terror without ever looking back".  If someone does something that I find unforgivable--or something that shows evidence of their mental instability, I'm not going to willingly welcome them back into my life.  I'm sorry, but "I do not like you or want to be around you again EVER because you are literally psychotic" is not me playing hard to get or being coy.  It is not a green light to try harder to win me over.  I am not trying to be a challenge.  I just actually don't want to speak to you.  

...I should really get a job helping Taylor Swift compose some of her break-up songs. They would be much more scathing and probably slightly less catchy.