Why I cannot drink coffee ever, ever again



Recently, I gave up coffee. I know, it’s a sin, but my intentions were noble. So then today I got a large iced coffee from McDonald’s and now I feel like I’m on crack. I don’t even know what crack feels like, but based off of what I’ve seen in movies and have dramatized in my imagination, this is pretty close to being on crack. So now, I am swearing off coffee for good, and here’s why.

1. I have been shaking uncontrollably for about five hours straight, and will probably continue to do so well into the night.


2. This headache is making my vision blurry, so therefore, the world is coming to an end.

dying3. Have you ever had so much energy that you’re afraid you’re just going to Hulk out on someone and lose all control of your bodily functions? No? Oh…

giphyThat may not seem like a lot of reasons to give up coffee, but when they’re happening at a high intensity and all at once, it’s exhausting and I can’t really think about much else. I don’t even know, like… I can’t even… No.



Reasons I broke up with makeup


After enduring one of the worst sunburns known to man a little over a week ago, I decided to do away with makeup for a while. Since then, I’ve been coming up with excuses to continue discontinuing the stuff.

Excuse No. 1: If I get a pimple that desperately needs covered up, chances are that makeup is not strong enough to get the job done.

ewExcuse No. 2: I prefer to spend more time sleeping, instead of using that valuable time putting on stuff I’ll just have to scrub off.

likedisExcuse No. 3: That one model that one football player is married to–she was in The Devil Wears Prada–once said that she rarely wears makeup because she likes to let her skin breathe. And, I mean, for the sake of one’s health, I should probably just not wear makeup.

nomakeupExcuse No. 4: It is really annoying when I go to rub my eyes at work and I pull my hands away with crud all over them, and the stuff I meticulously put on my face now looks like I put it on in the dark with my feet.

man-makeup-gifExcuse No. 5: I can get really big bags under my eyes, but my thighs are so much bigger, and makeup can’t cover those up, so I’ll spend more time on those instead.

no gym

I’m a changed woman… Kind of


I apologize for the lag between posts, it’s just that I’ve been so busy figuring out this “real person” thing, and getting used to having to tuck in every shirt. But I’ve also learned that I’m a changed woman since moving to the west coast… And then there are some points I cannot budge on.

Things I will not change:

1.The correct pronunciation of Lancaster (LANC-ist-er). I hear Lancaster thrown around a lot because of being closer to Lancaster, Calif., but they don’t say it right (LAN-cast-er). It’s just not natural. If I came over here and just went all Chandler and said, “Oh, I SO want to to go to CAL-if-orni-A” I would be shunned faster than you could say tsunami. Which also happens here.

It’s cool, east coast. No need to prepare me for the most terrifying weather disaster the world has ever known. When Alaska was at risk for a tsunami a couple weeks ago, everyone in my office was asking whether or not we would get one in Oregon. My reaction? I went on weather.com, looked at the 10-day forecast and said, “Well, it doesn’t look like it’ll affect us.” I was thinking about a hurricane. A hurricane, east coast. That’s what you’ve done to me. What happens when Alaska gets a tsunami? Oregon gets a tsunami. Not rain. If one state gets a natural disaster, it ruins it for the entire coast.

So, yeah, I’ll keep Lancaster in my way, west coast. You keep your tsunamis.


2. My snobbish taste in farmers’ markets. In Pa., we have Amish pastries and strong coffee. In Oregon, we have flowers and organic vegetables. Do I fully grasp the meaning of organic after living here for almost two months? Not even close. Do I want to? Offer me a large cup of coffee at a ridiculously low price and we can talk.


3. Saying Pa. when referring to Pennsylvania. It’s all I have left of home. I’ve also realized that Pa. is the only state I’m aware of in which its natives refer to it by it’s postal abbreviation. No one out here says OR, or CA, and I think they think we’re weird for thinking so highly of ourselves to use our state’s postal abbreviation like the whole world should know it. I mean, they should, but still.



Things I have begun to change:

1. Coincidentally, I gave up coffee. I don’t know if it was the lack of a good strong coffee that didn’t cost $5 that got me off of it, but ever since I stopped drinking it I’ve never fallen asleep earlier in my life.


2. I no longer desperately need to go five over the speed limit at all times. Maybe the reason everyone on the east coast needs to drive so fast is because it’s not as pretty as the west coast. All I know is that now, before I simultaneously honk my horn and give whomever the bird, I look out at the bay/ocean/field/mountains/port/flowers and think, I’m only five minutes away from a McDonald’s breakfast burrito.


3. I’ve stopped expecting people to be nice. Yes, I brought some of that east coast cynicism with me, but it’s been helpful. When you expect either no response to your “thank you” or “nice to meet you,” a rude response or an opinion you did not, in any way, shape or form invite, you’re actually surprised and that much more grateful for the nice people you come across. Albeit, a little suspicious, but yeah.


And that is what two months in Oregon has taught me.