More reactions to everyday sexism

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I just returned from an interview as part of my job as a reporter, to which I’d decided to walk, because it was only a 10-minute walk and it’s spring. But of course, I experienced what I was raised to expect and tolerate; assholes.

In a short 10-minute walk, I experienced an entire list of things that are way too common for anyone to have asked for it.

1.When you feel like you HAVE to say hi to a guy when they say hi to you, even when they definitely aren’t making eye contact.

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2. When you can feel your skin crawl while some old guy who probably has children stares at you.

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3. When you start to question your definitely-not-come-hither outfit just because some pervert hooted at you.

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4. When you Google Maps directions to walk somewhere, and rethink going because the directions take you off heavily-trafficked streets.

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5. When you make the conscious decision not to make eye contact with anyone, because that may be too inviting.

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6. When you’re walking down the street alone, in broad daylight, but still feel the need to walk  closer to another person so you aren’t singled out… again.

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7. When you’re relieved to see other women.

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8. When you have to clench your fist not to flip a cat caller off because you’re alone, and he’s a man.

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9. When you realize part of the reason you loved this haircut was because you thought it wouldn’t attract pigs, and you were wrong.

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10. When you realize the moment you get back to work/home/a familiar place that you were clenching your teeth the entire time you were outside.

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6 amusing things about depression

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In honor of stopping my pills and feeling semi-normal for the first time in a while, here are the things I’ve just embraced about depression, and even find somewhat amusing.

When you know you’re only getting compliments because people don’t know how else to talk to you.

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When your mom says “your self esteem” in reference to your mental illness.

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When someone tries to talk to you while you’re working through an anxiety attack.

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“How are you doing?”

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When someone can relate to your brain.

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When you finally relax and your body handles it by twitching.

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… I’m boring

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We all have crazy stories from when we were young, before we knew better and really had to hunker down to become responsible, hard working people who contribute to society.

Except I don’t.

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Freshman year of college was great, but aside from that time I discovered I’d walked back to my dorm room in someone else’s shoes (albeit drunk), and never found out what happened to my own, I wrapped up my wild and crazy period pretty quick.

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At 24, I didn’t expect to have accomplished basically everything I’d set out to in my career, have a person ready to marry me, have two dogs, a nice apartment, (a pretty rockin’ bod if I do say so myself), a decent wardrobe… and absolutely no life.

The most exciting thing I did this week was change the color scheme in my bathroom.

Most people my age are still figuring out what their career should be, or are trying to kick it off. Most of the people I talk to were trying to get their life on track at my age.

I’m basically Doogie Howser, but less exciting.


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So, sure, it’s like, “Boohoo, ya jerk. That’s a pretty nice life.” But it’s also like, “I gotta let my freak flag fly. Just let me live.”

This would be easy if my fiance weren’t five years older than me and had already lived his life, and if my friends weren’t wrapping up that chapter of their lives/busy living them.

So what do I do? Do I go to the bar by myself and try to stir up trouble? Nope, because rape and abduction are real things. Do I send out a Facebook post asking for drug dealer recommendations? No, because jail is a thing, too.

I could go on vacation… har har, yeah, right. I’m a journalist, and make journalist money.

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I only have a few good years before my metabolism completely craps out on me and I have no choice but to settle down and be a married bore (no offense, fiance and married people). But I don’t know how to get my fun train on the road without doing something illegal/outside of my pay grade.

Yes, it’s a #firstworldproblem, and I should be happy. But… shut up and get your life together.

What moving across the country for the second time in a year means to me

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Yes, I am moving back to the state I was so happy to move away from eight months ago when I got the job which allowed it. No, I did not fail. Neither my boyfriend nor I failed at anything while in Oregon, except finding jobs in better areas that would allow us to stay here. The thing about Tillamook–the county to which we moved–is that it mainly consists of people who have family here, or who are looking to slow down after retirement. This makes it difficult for two people looking to have careers full of any growth whatsoever (a.k.a. my boyfriend and I). So, long story short, after deciding we’d want to settle down near our immediate families anyway, we found wonderful–and I do mean wonderful–jobs closer to the end of Pennsylvania where I grew up.

I am over the moon about the opportunity to return home to both our families and promising careers, however, moving back across the country for the second time in a year has presented about 128,785,436,435,960,596 more challenges than the first time we made the trip.

1. Everything went wrong that could go wrong; shipping our additional car involves Russians who like to sleep (long story), things cost money, our pets’ heads are falling off, etc.

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2. We’re traveling on Thanksgiving and Thanksgiving weekend, by car. And since God or Warren Buffett or whoever has decided to take a big white dump on everyone earlier and earlier every year, we’re facing driving home in another Polar Vortex. As if Wyoming didn’t already suck.

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3. We only found a place to live a week before we’re set to leave. Do you know what it’s like, having a job, having the whole world open to you, but not knowing if the world has a Pennsylvanian roof for me and my boyfriend at a reasonable (journalist) price? I should hope you do not. It’s nothing short of adorable. Did you catch the sarcasm there? And, of course, finding a place in the county we’re moving to that’s within our budget and doesn’t have a shooting every other hot second was another fun hoop to jump through.

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4. You cannot do anything on a journalist’s budget with two dogs.  One dog–eh, sure. Two dogs–holy God with a side of crackers, you are screwed. Flying home? Nope, you’re going to pay more for your dogs to fly than Beyonce does for a private jet. A train? Good luck asking the conductor to pull the train over because one of your dogs looks like she has to poop. We’ve tried to tell the dogs how much pain they’ve caused us. We just ended up giving them kisses and contemplating getting a third one.

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5. We’re worried we’ve accumulated more than a mid-size sedan’s worth of belongings. We were only allowed to put 100 pounds in the car we shipped, and how in Sam Hill do you know what 100 pounds looks like when you’re just trying to throw part of your life in a back seat? 100 pounds is nothing. It’s a 12-year-old. We own a 35-year-old Sumo wrestler in training. But then there’s still another car to put things in, and the thought of trying to get everything we own in there without a professional organizer is simply madness.

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But yes, we are very lucky to have this opportunity and grateful that we can finally get started with the life we’ve wanted. We’ll just be happy when this is all over.

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Signs that I’ve found my “person”

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1. He knows how to wake me up in the morning in a way that won’t make me hate everything.

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2. We not only say the same things at the same time, but we do the exact same thing at the same time as well. We’re not proud to be this close, we’re actually pretty weirded out about it.

emo-awk3. Playing games in which we have to guess the other person’s answer is completely pointless with us, because we already know the answer 99.95% of the time.

get out4. We use inside jokes around other people and forget that they don’t get it, because we spend way too much time together.

weirdos5. We both talk to/about our dogs like they’re people, and treat them as such in and out of the public eye.

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6. We get equally excited about staying in bed or doing nothing all day.

let-me-sleep-for-the-love-of-god-gif7. Every adorable sitcom couple that I wanted to be like before I met him–we’re better than all of them.

jimandpamIt’s hard to put everything into words, but at least with him I don’t have to. I got really lucky that way.

 

 

Loser Alert: I’m Not Cool, and I Love it

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I’m tired of complaining. I’m tired of pretending boogers don’t just randomly fall out of my nose when I talk to people (sometimes). From now on, I’m going to do what I used to wish I had the confidence to do.

1. I’m going to start wearing what makes me comfortable. These moccasins don’t go with my leather jacket? Too bad. They both make me happy and my mom says you’re just jealous. And that outfit idea I’ve been mulling over, the cocktail dress with the flannel over top? It’s happening.

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2. I’m going to eat a cheeseburger every day. I’ll probably even carry one around, or walk around nibbling on a burger like I’m just sipping from a smoothie. Salads are for birds, and I have to put entirely too much dressing on them to get through it anyway.

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3. I’m done apologizing for speaking like I don’t know words. I know words, I know lots and lots of words. And just because I can’t put them together correctly sometimes when I want them to come out of my mouth, doesn’t mean I’m not smart. What’s your GPA? That’s what I thought.

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So, yeah. Things are going to get real around here. Look out.

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Signs that I Need to Graduate Already

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You know how people who have been in a stagnant environment that no longer presents a challenge for too long tend to become weird and borderline psychopath (I don’t use the P-word lightly, because no girl wants to be referred to as– or will admit to being– a psychopath)?

I didn’t understand how these people came to be until I entered my last semester of college. Here’s how I can tell…

1. The small world in my head is getting bigger, and I’m becoming less and less a part of reality. Example: Yesterday I was in Walmart, and found myself determined to get a carton of International Delight iced coffee to the point where it’s all I could think about. I was so consumed by my future with this caramel macchiato magic that when a man got in my way, instead of saying, “Pardon me,” all I could get out was a smile and, “Coffee.”

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2. My professors have picked up on the fact that I’m no longer doing them a favor when they call on me in class. They are the ones doing me a favor. They can see the desperation to be told I’m doing something right in my life. I just want to make someone proud. If I can’t win in a 300-level class in which all I have to do is raise my hand to get an A, what is life?

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3. Out of the four weeks of class we’ve had this semester, I’ve worn sweatpants to class… four weeks. I figure in a couple months I won’t be able to do this, whether I have a job or am desperately begging someone for one. This is probably the most depressing part about still being in college; being able to dress like a bum because you’re living off government funding and aren’t qualified to work in the career you want. People, we can dress like bums BECAUSE WE ARE BUMS. How do you feel about yourself now, hmm?

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GET. ME. OUT. OF. HERE.