Ready, Set...VOTE!

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend your ears- because it's time to VOTE!

That's right, it's Tuesday, November 4th, and it's time for the midterm elections. If you think the only important/exciting elections are the ones that determine who's sitting in that comfy leather chair in the Oval Office, think again. Today's elections cover senators, governors, congressmen, and a whole lot of issues, including immigration, the economy, foreign policy, and my favorite- women's rights.

Cute and effective!

Today, your voice matters, possibly more than it ever has before! (Just like when you were a chubby little baby and your mom's and/or dad's heart stopped as you muttered your first word.) That's how much it matters. Do your forefathers proud, and put those hands to good use! Extra points if you dress up as one of our forefathers or a historical figure as you cast your ballot. If all that political activeness doesn't get you riled up, you get an adorable "I voted!" sticker, too. Really, what's not to love?

If you'd like more information on the how, where, and why of today's voting sesh, please visit 

The Skimm's 2014 Election Guide and Rock the Vote. You've got until 7pm to get in line. 

Ready, set......VOTE!

 

Let's Talk About: Brittany Maynard

Hello, dear readers.

Today, I'd like to have a conversation about something a little controversial: Brittany Maynard.

   In case you haven't yet heard about her, she's been in headlines for the past week because she will be voluntarily ending her life on November 1st. This decision was made after Maynard was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer at the age of 29, and given just 6 months to live.
 
   In order to carry out her last wishes, Maynard has uprooted her family from San Francisco, CA to Oregon, one of only 5 states that authorizes death with dignity. Death with dignity is a medical practice in which terminally ill (but mentally competent) patients with 6 months or less to live can request a life-ending medication prescribed by a doctor, which they take when they feel the time is right (you can read more about death with dignity here).

    This story has caused great controversy, and even caused another terminally ill patient, Lara Tippetts, to pen an open letter to Maynard, begging her to reconsider. Much of Tippetts argument/advice is centered around how much of her own strength stems from her Christian beliefs, which is understandable; people often turn to their faith when life presents such devastating circumstances as these. And while I want to believe her words come from an earnest place, I can't help but feel that I'm listening to a sermon or television evangelist as I read them, especially as she mentions the recent release of her book. But hey, maybe I've become too cynical or critical of Christians as a whole.

As for my take on this story, Brittany's situation is her own, and we can comment on it all we like, but it likely won't change her mind. I hardly think this decision comes from a place of weakness- there is no way that this was an easy decision for her to make. What she is doing is ensuring that her loved ones aren't burdened with taking care of someone who is too sick or incoherent to make her own choices. She only wants to suffer to a certain point, and I think that should be her right. Some may call her selfish; I call her brave.

The fact that we can't get around is, it's sad. No matter what we say, whether Brittany chooses to go in a timely manner or wait until her body fails her doesn't change the fact that her family & friends will be devastated. The end result is the same, and as much as we like to judge, none of us truly know what we would do unless we were experiencing this first-hand.

I guess the question this leads me to is: is there a "better" way to die?

Please feel free to voice your opinion on this story in the comments section, and if you'd like to donate to the Brittany Maynard fund, please do so here.

Fall: More Than Just a Costume & Candy

It's October, and that means it's officially the holiday season! In an attempt to hide my exhausting enthusiasm for Christmas (there will be plenty of time for that later), let's chat about my second favorite holiday: Halloween, which is perhaps even more perfect than any other holiday because it occurs in fall, or autumn, if you're feeling ~fancy~. Crunchy, multi-colored leaves, pumpkin-flavored everything, children in costumes -or, better yet, dogs in costumes- football...I mean, what's not to love about fall?!

Like any self-respecting Halloween addict, I've already got my costume picked out, and my friend has agreed to let me dress up her skinny dog as a goat (Annyong, you're gonna look so cute!) Let me know if you find a little stuffed-Quasimodo, because I'm gonna wanna carry that little adorable thing around with me to really drive this costume home.

What's even better about this season though, is that as you get older, there are MORE things to do! When you're a kid, it's all about having a cool costume and competing with your siblings to see who can finagle their way into the most candy while trick-or-treating (Sugar highs! Cavities! YEAH!). You probably didn't give a rat's ass about fall as a season, except when the orange Oreos came out and admit it- you thought they were going to taste differently.

Empty promises, Nabisco.

To celebrate this wonderful season as an adult, I've compiled a list of 5 things I want to do/have already done this season that don't revolve around trick-or-treating:

1. Visit an apple orchard/pumpkin patch. Apple cider, donuts, and getting to pick out your own soon-to-be jack-o-lantern, all while enjoying the crisp fall air?! Count me in.

2. Try out new ciders (or better yet, Chicago's first cider bar). Apple, peach, pear- fall is better when you've got something fruity and alcoholic in your hand.

3. Roll up those sleeves, slap on that apron you forgot you had, and make your own pumpkin bread, like the Betty Crocker you were born to be.
Though I'm not much of a cook, I can attest that when it comes to baking, I can make some pretty delectable sweet treats.

4. Visit a haunted house- willingly or unwillingly. I'll be the first to admit that I'm a straight up scaredy-cat. In the Rugrats of life, I'm Chuckie, always saying "Guysssss, I don't think that's such a good idea!!! Can we go home now???" But screaming your brains out and digging your terrified little fingernails into your best friend's arm while wandering through a perfectly timed nightmare is a right of passage. Plus, once you make it through, you'll feel like a total badass.

5. Re-watch some of your favorite Halloween movies, but specifically Hocus Pocus. Because long before Beyonce taught us how to be flawless, the Sanderson sisters taught us how to be wickedly fierce.

I woke up (from the dead) like this!

  
What are you planning to do this fall??? Let me know in the comments!

Your Server Isn't Your Servant

You shouldn't yell at your barista, or server, or anyone who is serving you.

As someone with a number of friends in the industry, as well as a combined 3 years of personal experience as a hostess/waitress, I'd like to think that even though I no longer slave away delivering hot plates of deliciousness, I can recall on that experience and treat my server/barista/whomever in a polite and professional manner.

Earlier this week, I experienced someone who failed (with flying colors!) to adhere to this practice while getting coffee, and it utterly irked me. While I won't go into detail about the unfortunate encounter, I will ask this: how, in 2014, can people still feel that they have a right to be rude to someone just because it's their job to make, serve, or deliver? What makes you think this?  Is it because you work a "real" job with a desk and extension number?

Since it looks like we could all use a little refresher in Human Compassion 101, allow me to give you 5 reasons not to treat your service industry employee like crap.

Reason #1: Feet.

They've probably been on their feet for about 5 hours, and when the dogs are barkin', it'd be cool if the people weren't hollerin'.

Reason #2: Power.

Oh, did you think that you were in control of this situation? HAH. Guess again. That person is handling something that you're hoping to consume, so I suggest you be nice to them. Haven't you seen the movie Waiting? (<<< This link is not for the weak-of-stomach nor faint-of-heart!)

Reason #3: Humans Aren't Robots.

We all make mistakes. Forgetting to order your cheese on the side instead of on the salad isn't a crime. It's an accident, and it's bound to happen. As an added bonus, learning to forgive and not sweat the small stuff is good for your health!

Reason #4: The Customer Isn't Always Right.

Sorry, but the age-old mantra that managers have been feeding their employees is a load of badger poo and should be avoided accordingly. What happens when a customer enters a place of business and walks out with a bag of stuff or a belly full of food is an age-old tradition- an exchange of goods and services for money. What used to be treated as a business transaction between two equals has turned into a game where suppliers work their asses off to please the demands of customers, and the customers decide whether or not they're going to behave respectfully and professionally. If you've ever worked in fine dining, I'm sure you know this to be especially true. I know from experience that the customer isn't always right; in fact, as in the case where a perceivably wealthy older man decided it was his right to put his hand on me because I was a young, smiling hostess, the customer can be frustratingly, offensively wrong.

While your server might be working for you at the moment, they do not, per se, work for you. They are not your property or your pet, so don't touch them.

Reason #5: They're Somebody's Someone.

The next time you start to become frustrated with a barista or server, remember that they are a person, just like you. Just as you are a mother or sister or brother or son, they are also a mother, sister, brother, or son. If someone treated your daughter the way you're treating that teenager behind the counter, I guarantee you'd have a problem with it.  

My purpose in writing this post is to ask us all to recall a time in our lives- whether it was 10 years ago, last month, or yesterday- when someone showed us a little human compassion. Do you have that moment in your mind? Do you remember not feeling like badger poo? Good. Now let's pay it forward and see to it that someone else we cross paths with gets to feel that way too.

The Importance of Being a Karaoke Queen

I am a self-proclaimed karaoke queen.

Since the day I turned 21, I have been drawn to those bars with good song selections, thirst-quenching beverages, and small stages cast in neon light (there was once a video of that first inebriated performance, which I assure you has been conveniently lost, never to be found and ultimately used against me as social blackmail.)

There is something about karaoke that feels inherently familiar to me. Is it a throwback to my high school years spent in musicals? Perhaps. Is it the sensation akin to singing at the top of my lungs in one of my frequently too-long showers? Probably. The closest feeling I can use as to describe what this this adrenaline-pumping activity gives me is: fearlessness.

On that stage, for a few fleeting minutes, I am fearless. I am an entertainer. I AM CHER IN HER PRIME. I AM PRE-KFED BRITNEY. I don't understand other people's reactions when I suggest hitting up a tacky karaoke joint at some point in the night. The grimace, the quick head shake, the "no no, that's not for me- I'll just watch." What prompts this automatic refusal of fun? Surely, not everyone who says that can hate FUN?! What’s next, hating pizza?! If you hate pizza, you hate America (err...Italy, I guess?) and I can’t be seen with you. I’m lactose intolerant and even I love pizza. Everyone loves pizza, ergo everyone should love fun!

If you don’t hate fun -- which, I’m sure you don’t -- then why cringe at the mention of karaoke? My best guess is you’re scared. You’re petrified that people will judge you for having a few cocktails and belting out some Celine Dion to your heart’s desire. But I’ll let you in on a little secret -- they won’t. And if they do, who cares? That’s their problem -- not yours. If they want to criticize others for having fun, they’re already wasting their time and energy on something that doesn’t affect them. So don’t add to the wastefulness by spending an extra second worrying about it.

As the Karaoke Queen, I’d like to bestow upon you some fool-proof guidelines that will ensure you and your comrades enjoy a night of drama-free karaoke:

1. Never pick a song longer than 3 minutes and 30 seconds (No one wants to sit through your rendition of “Stairway to Heaven”- trust me, you’re not Robert Plant, and there’s a line of people waiting to rock out behind you.)

2. Pick a crowd pleaser -- something you and your friends know all the words to. This is how you truly win over the bar crowd as they inevitably begin singing along.
3. Dare to duet. Sure, everyone has heard “Summer Lovin’” thousands of times, but that doesn't make it any less of a classic!

4. HAVE FUN! Throw in a moonwalk, flip your hair, and rock your invisible Gibson through those musical interludes. People have more fun when they see you having fun; after all, isn't that why we’re here?

Follow these four simple rules and I guarantee that one day, we can all be karaoke royalty. P.S. If you like what I have to say about karaoke, make sure to check out Mindy Kaling's "Is Everybody Hanging Out Without Me?"; there's a chapter on karaoke etiquette :)

A Chubby Girl's Guide to Hot Yoga

Step 1: Don't go.

Just kidding- do whatever you want. But let me tell you why I will not be joining you and the other middle-class yuppies who seem to be rushing to these hot yoga studios that are popping up like daisies.

Last week, I ventured to a hot yoga studio in Lincoln Park, Chicago for my first ever Bikram yoga class. I had found a deal online that allowed you to try out different studios and gyms all over the city for a ridiculously cheap price, so I figured 'what the hell- why not?'. I had my pick of yoga studios, dance studios, mixed martial arts, boot camps, and for last weeks session, I chose to indulge in this new hot yoga trend that I've been hearing so much about from all the other white girls (it was in the weekly newsletter, in case you missed it.) So after work, with my gym bag and yoga clothes in tow, I went to hot yoga.

You would think that I would've been able to take some kind of comfort in the fact that I've been irregularly practicing yoga for over 6 months now, but alas, I could not...

...because this.room.was. HOT. We're talking 7th-circle-of-Hell hot. Hawt. First of all, don't be an idiot like me and bring a hand-sized towel just  to wipe the sweat off your brow, because you will look around and instantly realize that you are the only yogi without a full-size towel on top of your mat. Trust me-you'll feel like a newb. I mean, I knew I was gonna sweat, but a FULL SIZED BATH TOWEL?! Imagine my disgust when I looked over at my neighbor and realized that he had an entire puddle surrounding his mat/towel.Yeah, no.....that's gross. Where was all that sweat coming from?!

Unfortunately, I soon found out where from. My legs, my arms, my ass, the small of my back- I at one point even felt like my eyes were sweating (which is actually a very different feeling from crying.) It was everywhere. I chugged water at every chance I got, which wasn't too often, because no one wants to be that guy disturbing everyone's zen while he guzzles down his Aquafina. I couldn't even hold certain poses because my hand couldn't grasp any part of my body.

In addition to the sweat, which I imagine some people (i.e. not me) could get past, our instructor made Miss Trunchbull look like Miss Honey (yes I did just make a Matilda reference, because that Mara Wilson is adorable and so is Danny DeVito.) "Bring your hands UP towards the sky and reach with your chest and arch your back and stand on your tip-toes and tilt your chin up and KEEP THOSE ARMS UP TOWARDS THE HEAVENS AND DON'T YOU DARE THINK ABOUT BRINGING THEM DOWN OR ELSE THE YOGA GODS WILL SHUN YOU FOR ALL ETERNITY." I don't know if you've ever been barked at for 90 sweaty, smelly minutes by someone who is insanely more talented than you, but it is quite disheartening.

After it was over, I left scared, annoyed, and fuming, and not just from the temperature of the room. I was even further from zen than I had been before the class, and isn't that the whole point of yoga??

Follow whatever fitness trend you want; after all, everyone has to find something that works for them. But rest assured- I will not be caught dead in another hot yoga studio. I give it 0.2 stars and a "Absolutely Would Not Recommend Even to My Worst Enemy".

Sappy Girl

It's never been like this before.

I have never been like this before-loving and longing for your eyes, your arms, your touch; counting down the days until I can say something sassy and have that devilish, boyish grin is directed at me.

You exhaust me and yet, I am restless without you.

It was exactly as fast and slow and unexpected and familiar as all of the movies and books had said-I almost laughed at the cliche we had become. All at once you were there, saying everything I had ever wanted and needed to hear, and there I was saying it back, blurting things out before I could even think them through.

Love can be, has been, and will continue to be described in million of different ways, but what I've learned so far, is this:

 You don't have to think about it- it just is, and you just do. If you have to think about it, then you already have your answer.

Babies and Running and Kale- Oh My!

Some days, I have thoughts and feelings so big and powerful inside of me that at night, when I lay my head down, I'm thankful that I didn't burst at the seams.


1. I'm sorry it's been so long; I've missed you all dearly and promise to never let life get that much in the way of my writing again.
2. Today I went outside without a coat on, and it was glorious.
3. I've started running to train for a 10K in July. That doesn't mean that this will turn into an inspirational workout blog, but if it helps someone else become inspired to run too, so be it.
4. I tried kale, and there is something behind all the fuss about it.
5. I'm becoming more of a beer snob; if you have any IPA's you want me to try, let me know!
6. As a nanny, I've learned that kids really do say the darndest things. Here are a few of my favorites from these past few weeks:

• Me: "How can you be hungry? You just ate."
  Child: "I know, but food makes me happy."
• "Are you gonna tell my mom I was good?"
• "Look! I didn't poop in the tub!"
• Me: "Oh what a great picture of us! Wait, what are those?"
  Child: "Oh, those are your boobies."

6. Sometimes you will go on a date with a charming person, drink fabulous drinks and laugh your butt off at all of their jokes, and still want nothing to do with them, and that is ok.
7. I think I'm finally becoming comfortable with the fact that life is weird and unpredictable and all you can really do is try your best and ride the wave (I don't know when I started using surfing metaphors, but I'm just gonna roll with it.)

Cheers!

Valentine's Day: It's Not Just for Couples and Women Eating Ben & Jerry's Anymore!

It snuck up on us again, folks-

Valentine's Day. This is a holiday in which we're supposed to celebrate with our loving significant others- unless of course, we're single. Lucky for all of us single ladies, lead character on Parks & Recreation (Amy Poehler) has invented Galentine's Day, where women are invited to celebrate the platonic but equally important love they share with their besties, and that's great; I personally teared up on the train on Friday reading the sweetest text message I've ever gotten. The sender was none other than my best friend, Leslie. But the term "Galentine's Day", which is supposed to make single women feel included, is sadly exclusive to females as well. What term includes single men, or trans people? Surely there has to be a better name for the holiday that celebrates everyone and every kind of love...
     The best my tired brain can muster is " Every Day", because if you truly care about someone, they deserve to hear it loudly, and often, and not just when Kay Jewelers commercials remind us to. Hear me out; I promise, it doesn't have to be as cheesy as it sounds. You don't have to go full-blown John Cusack and pop up outside his/her bedroom window blasting romantic music from the boombox on your shoulder (do they even still make those? If not, what's the modern-day equivalent? Who knows...) Showing your love can be done in a million different ways; what's important is that you do it- show your mom, your brother, your sister, your neighbor, your dog, your doctor, your barista- whomever you love, do as Nike tells us and just do it.
     What I also want to mention about this weekend is that yes, I'm single, but I'm not going to shame anyone for being in a relationship. That would be pointless, and basically anti-love. I'm pro-love, so please, more power to you.
        I hope you all had a wonderful Valentine's Day, because that's what you deserve; I know I did.
 

Because Nothing Means Anything.

I need to do something meaningful soon, or I'll go crazy.

I mean it. I'm sick of the Instagram, the Snapchats, the Facebook- the bullshit. Will it matter a year from now? Will I remember anything from the hours of crap that I consumed?

Maybe its the wintery cabin fever talking, or the fact that my roommate is gone for the week and I'm not used to living alone, but I can't shake the feeling that nothing I do means anything. Its the feeling that you could disappear tomorrow, and nothing would change. The world would go on turning, and your entire small, mediocre existence becomes nothing but blip, a number in the system, a grave in the cemetery.
  Maybe it's good to feel small once in a while. I'm always hearing that my generations is self-absorbed and short-sighted; maybe it's good to feel unimportant every now and then, to get knocked down a few pegs. Maybe it's what we need in order to keep ourselves in check. We need to realize that no one really cares what we ate for dinner unless they were eating it with us, or that we can live without taking and sharing selfies everyday.
   
If we put half the energy that we expel on vanity and bullshit into something meaningful, maybe we could actually get something done, instead of documenting every single non-meaningful move we make.


**I realize that this post and entire blog can be seen as another form of bullshit media- trust me, I see the irony. For that reason, I think it's best that I take a Ron Swanson-style camping trip soon and take a step back from the things that are causing me to feel this way.

Bright.

This morning, you asked through sleepy eyes if I wanted you.
From my lips I whispered "yes",
but inside I screamed "always."

A Love Letter

This is a love letter to 32-year-old me.

   Dear 32-year-old Elizabeth,

   Hiya, champ- how are you?? Do people still say champ, or is that like outdated like "bra" and "chief"?

   Anywho, I wanted to write you a love letter, because no matter where you are in life, it's something nice to get, and you can't always wait for someone else to give you something you deserve.
    I hope you are well. I hope you're working, doing whatever it is that makes you happy. I hope it's something that your mom will be proud to talk about when she sends out the family Christmas cards. I hope it's something that gives you enough time to visit your family and makes you wake up in the morning with a sense of pride and purpose; it won't make you smile, because you're probably still not a morning person, but that's okay. Hopefully, whoever you're with will not only accept, but love that about you.
    Which brings me to my next topic- I know it's never been your life goal to be barefoot and pregnant, but I hope you've found someone that can keep up with you and add to your happiness while possibly popping out a few little ones. Your parents might not love him (/her), but I hope they at least like him (/her), because like it or not, their intuitions about men (/people) are pretty spot on. I hope that with them, you feel invincible.
    I hope your grandmas are still alive to see you get married. I hope you kept your pact and went Paris with Sarah like you always dreamed about. I hope Cassie has the kids she's always wanted. I hope your dad and Sue finally tied the knot (and let you be the band/DJ at the reception.) I hope your mom and Terrell went on a hundred more cruises and took advantage of every midnight buffet. I hope Leslie returned safely from her time in the Peace Corps and that you're living close to each other again. I hope you finally have an apartment with a balcony that will let you have a dog bigger than 20 pounds. I hope you finally cut your hair as short as you were too afraid to cut it. I hope you know a 1,000 songs on the guitar. I hope you got your first paid writing gig. I hope you're taking care of your body. I hope you're keeping in touch with the people that matter. I hope you're still taking risks and pushing yourself out of your comfort zone and taking what you want instead of asking for it.
      Mostly, I hope you're happy; incredibly, ridiculously, stupidly happy. I love you.

     Sincerely,
     Me

This Is Not A Resolution Post.

This is not a resolution post. This is a look at what I've done in 2013, a reflection on what has happened and how those things may or may not affect my future. If you think nothing has happened to you in the past 365 days, I urge you to try this.

In the year 2013, I:

1. Graduated from a wonderful school.
2. Realized that college doesn't necessarily prepare you for the real world, because it can't; nothing can.
3. Acquired and lost my first "big girl" job.
4. Fell head over heels and, shortly after, experienced my first heartbreak.
5. Realized that you can't live your life for someone else.
6. Found my passion for social change.
7. Bought my first pair of stilettos.
8. For the first time since I moved to Chicago, celebrated with my entire family in the city.
9. Questioned the corporate hierarchy for the first time.
10. Published my first piece of writing.
11. Felt (and feel) that nannies, teachers, and all childcare providers don't get enough credit.
12. Shamelessly gave my number to a bartender, because that's the kind of thing my best friend can convince me to do after only 3 drinks.
13. Got called up onstage at Improv Olympics.
14. Made new friends.
15. Lost old friends.
16. Felt my heart being pulled in a million different directions as vital people in my support system moved away.
17. Directed my first show.
18. Felt inadequate when observing my peers.
19. Learned that everyone must create their own path, and that you can't judge anyone just because their path isn't what you would have chosen for them.
20. Accepted that my life has never-and probably will never-run according to plan.
21. Realized that you must never stop learning or trying, because to stop doing either of those things is the definition of defeat.

There you have it, friends. It may not look like a lot at first, but in retrospect, 2013 was a pivotal transitional year. As far as 2014 is concerned, my only concrete resolution is to post here once a week. Other than that, I resolve to do and to love more and more often.