Wednesday, March 10, 2010

You say tomato, I say....PICKLES!

I'm beginning to notice lately that I'm not like the others. You normal blogging-folk. But, granted, I'm not your normal 24 year old. Sometimes I wonder if this detracts from readers who are seeking the usual fare: those who share their American Idol faves, their daily dieting woes, or pics of cool shoes they wish they had. Some write about their political opinions, or share interesting facts about technology. Or cupcakes.

I don't watch enough TV. I like eating. And I hate politics. I'm pretty meh about cupcakes. (But I do love pickles.)

I mostly write about cleaning out drains. And whine. And assume that people enjoy learning about the not-so-crazy escapades of my weekend.

At first I worried about this......Ok, I still worry about this. But I can't help that I don't easily fit into a mold. It's like trying to stick a star through a square. Too many pointy parts.

Here are some topics that seem to set me apart from the usual blogging fare:

Like, Totally My Fave Things <3
My childhood consisted of me teetering between being a tomboy and a girlie-girl. Well, let me rephrase that....between wanting to be a tomboy, but actually being a girl. In the end, I realized that me not liking normal girlie things was just the simple fact that I was a little bit odd. Unique, is what I prefer to call it. (But we don't know this word when we're 6.)

Here are a list of my all-time favorite things, from childhood to present, to give you an idea of the inner turmoil I endured between normality and oddity, and why I might not be an average 20-something blogger...

Fave Toys
  • Barbies & Mutant Ninja Turtles
  • Polly Pockets & Micro Machines
  • Disney Play Peoples, and putting live ants into potentially dangerous situations
Fave Movies
  • I was obsessed with Star Wars....(I had a crush on Luke Skywalker. I wished I was Princess Leia. I had a subscription to Star Wars Insider. You can kiss my ass.)
  • I was obsessed with The Little Mermaid (there was a giant Ariel painted on my wall. Top that.)
Fave Books
  • "The Babysitter's Club" & Chuck Palahniuk
  • "The Boxcar Children" & JD Salinger
  • A book featuring different shaped milk splats. For reals.
Fave Activity
  • Softball.....though I was deathly afraid of the ball.
  • Not bike riding.....didn't learn that till I was 13.
  • Playing house.....though for some reason I was always the dad.
Fave Food
  • Bacon (no more than 15 pieces)
  • Pickles (in a bowl)
  • Whipped Cream (also in a bowl, eaten after pickles)
My god, no wonder I turned out the way I did. (And thus, the blog audience dwindles...)

Fashion Smashion
I was not always into what I wore; my mother chose my clothes up until elementary school. I had some faves:
  • Black & White patterned culottes (short skirt with black spandex shorts underneath - so early 90s!)
  • Yellow plaid wool-looking shirt (I wore this every freaking day in 5th grade. The only time I will ever wear a plaid shirt, again, due to the recent mass influx of plaid wearing hipsters.)
  • Culotte Dress (look to the right...stripes AND polka dots!)
When I got to middle school, I realized that I could buy my own clothes. My idea of rebellion was buying hordes of G+G apparel, such as a platinum silver t-shirt that said "What If?" in chunky lettering. (It's like "As If?," only more existential!) Looking back, I suppose that in itself was my punishment.

In high school, the mantra was always "I must I must I must increase my bust." I hadn't really grown them yet. Too bad my face hadn't grown in yet either. But I did have lots of leg. To hell with the index finger rule!

It wasn't until college that I began to realize the importance of wearing something that not only made you feel good, but didn't try to compensate for anything. (Here in NY, everyone looks fabulous. You don't want to fall behind, or make apparent the fact that you're from New Jersey.) But here's where I probably differ from the status quo folks...

Don't get me wrong,
I love shopping. I am impulsive, and addicted to buying things that will fill the gaping emptiness inside my soul; at least temporarily. However, I'm not one to pounce on any new trend that the fashion industry tries to shove down my throat. Inspiration? Yes. Let me be inspired to buy something cheaper and more interesting than your boring, grey ensemble and the purse that looks like a metallic garbage bag. Let's face it, you're talking about a girl who wears lederhosen with blue, white and black striped stockings, which make my legs look like poisonous Amazonian snakes. I've got my own set of fashion rules.

Yo, look me in the eye when I'm talkin' to you.
  1. Got a fancy-shmancy gathering? Finally nice outside? Need to dress to impress? No LBDs (Little Black Dresses) here. I always go with the LN2: "LittleNeonNumber".
  2. Brighter is better.
  3. No single article of my clothing is more than $25 (with the exception of shoes and dresses, which should be under $50.) If I don't spend that much on what I feed myself, then why the hell should I clothe myself in that kinda dough?
  4. You're only young once. Don't dress boring; there's tons of time to do that when you're old.
  5. Take advantage of thrifting.

Fashion is a great way to be creative and be yourself. Not rape your wallet and turn you into an UGGs-wearing poster girl for a nation of fashion zombies.

Rant ended. (This is the last time I blog about fashion. I promise.)

Pop Culture
I have a confession to make: I read Perez Hilton. I too am a sucker for cheap gossip about other people fucking up their lives. Yet, I think this is just a natural human tendency. Sort of like passing the car accident on the turnpike. You just can't look away.

However, I don't often blog about pop culture. First of all, there are PLENTY of people doing that already. (Just google "Gaga"...I doubt you'll find any drooling babies.) I'm sure if you wanted to read those sorts of things, you would go to say, Mr. Hilton, instead of me. (Perhaps, most of you do, and right now I'm talking to absolutely no audience whatsoever.)

I will say this: I've met Perez. He lived in a pig sty and almost slept through our JLo interview. And to top it off, he hardly acknowledged the crew. So much for being outspoken.

If you ever meet me, I guarantee to talk your damn ears off.

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