Torture Chambers On Wheels

     There's no denying the importance of cars.  I mean, let's face it, there's a movie where the whole storyline centers around these torture chambers on wheels.  In fact, I'd venture to say Cars is the best movie featuring inanimate objects (although, keep in mind, I haven't yet seen that Radio movie about all those radios).  Oh, and cars like help us get from point A to point B in the fastest way possible--which is always nice considering the fact that us awkward girls have to mentally prepare ourselves before any walk outside.  

     So, yeah, cars are cool, great, fun--UNLESS you cringe at the sight of acquaintances, wore those spiral no tie shoe laces in 2nd grade, and have permanent lines on your shins due to the habitual wearing of long Hanes socks.  In the "recipe for awkwardness," awkward girls are the dough--with the automobile serving as the yeast that causes us to rise to our optimum level of awkwardness.  Simply put, driving is not an awkward girl's cup of tea (and if you consider yourself a good driver and awkward, then you are living a lie and should stop reading this post now, seriously).  Also, let's face it, no matter how hard we tried to master Rainbow Road on Mario Kart, we always ended up getting lapped every game/throwing the controller at the TV.  What about automobiles is so painstakingly awkward, you ask? 

1) Parking lots are hell on earth to every awkward girl.  We either park so far away that our destination looks like a dot on the horizon, accidentally pull up next to a car where the passengers were just about to get out (yikes!), or park so close to the car next to us that we have to exit via the passenger side.  I'm not even going to mention parallel parking, for a simple blog post could never accurately depict the looks of horror on people's faces as they watch our 50th attempt at essentially the same back and forth motion that is getting us absolutely nowhere. 

2) Stoplights. Ha. We always forget that we share the road with normal people who know fully well that they can't sing "Set Fire To The Rain" at the top of their lungs and sound good.  Oh, and the person in the car next to you watching your American Idol audition is ALWAYS an attractive male who is a mix of Ryan Gosling, Ryan Reynolds, Zac Efron, Ed Westwick, Adam Levine, and Channing Tatum--ALWAYS.

3) For some illogical reason, we delude ourselves into thinking we can compete with the other cars in the fast lane.  Think again.

4) Gas stations.  We never pay with cash because, duh, that requires human interaction.  Instead it takes us 50 times to swipe our credit card the right way and standing there filling up our tank (as millions of cars go whizzing by) almost makes us feel more self-conscious than walking past a crowded bus stop does (key word being almost).

5)  It's a proven fact that on the 7th day, God created the green arrow so that awkward girls would have a reason to get up in the morning.  Without the green arrow, making a left turn causes our heart to beat faster than any presentation ever has or ever will.  Venturing out into the intersection is like throwing ourselves into the lion's den--wearing Lady Gaga's meat dress--donning a sign that says "Eat me, I taste better than any hyena you've ever had!"  Needless to say, it's the scariest part of our day/life.


Remember, friends, ya can't spell automobile without bile (I hope this makes sense......)!!!!


Peace, love, and tire marks on your friend's lawn because you couldn't back out of her driveway!
Awkward Girl

To (P)infinity and Beyond

    I finally gave in a few months ago and did it (no, I'm not referring to the ceremonial burning of all my old Aeropostale/AE/old navy sweatshirts)--oh, no, no, I joined 2.2 million of my closest friends and officially became a member of the exclusive Pinterest community.  The way I see it, I'm basically in a sorority since 99.9% of my fellow Pinterest users share a common affinity for Adam Levine (the other .1% probably do too, actually) and there's "pinning" involved--so yeah I'm, like, in a sorority, sorta.

     Anywho, as a college aged female of moderate coolness (and by moderate coolness, I mean extreme awkwardness) I felt I should step into this century/out of my oversized snuggie and see what all the hubub was about (yes, I did just use the word hubub--feel free to add my name to the registered sex offender list).  For all those who don't have a Pinterest--plain and simple, you're missing out.  Pinterest is a wonderful procrastination tool that should be in every awkward girl's tool kit--alongside economy sized hand sanitizer (an awkward girl essential), the coveted beer bottle opener (that also serves as a magnet, was purchased in Florida, and has a crab on it, cleverly exclaiming "I'm not crabby"), and car cassette adaptor (because that's the only way you can jam to your nano in your '96 station wagon).  Also, did I mention it's really fun to rewrite words that start with "in" by using "pin"?  Pinventing words is pretty cool--pindex cards, "Pinsane in the membrane," pinterracial relationship (okay, some are better than others--but you get the idea).  Little did you know, the person who created the word "pink" was employing this same technique.

      Out of the goodness of my heart (I can't even pretend to be serious as I type that), I'm going to share a few Pinterest tips--think, "Pinterest for Awkward Girls," or "Consumer Reports: Awkward Girl Edition," or "Awkward Girl's Guide to the Galaxy," or don't think at all--I understand how draining all those group projects and class presentations can be:

1. Pin all you want from LOLCats/awkwardfamilyphotos.com/your favorite funny website--but with caution.  Pinterest is where women go to look at trendy inspirational pictures/plan out their future wedding/marvel at Ryan Gosling's drool-worthy, god-like, chiseled, rock hard, defined abs.  No one wants to stare at your board with 100 captioned pictures of cats engaged in sexual acts (haha, sorry, really not funny/appropriate at all).

2.  That being said, google "best fashion tumblrs" and pin edgy outfits (which everyone and their brother/grandma/gym teacher/AA sponsor has already pinned 10x over) that your friends will admire, repin, and wanna know "OMG! Where is that outfit from? SoOoOo cool!"

3.  If you do pin anything that's edgy/trendy/not yoga pants and a sweatshirt, make sure the description is fitting.  When I pin something that I think is "sooo runway of Milan!" (but is actually "sooo Milania Guidice"), I always make sure to write "Wish I could pull this off!" or "So cool"

4.  Pinterest is great because it's the one place where being at a loss for words is totally fine--in these instances, a "." will suffice as an appropriate description (this is similar to the blank look you give when you're chosen to call in the order to Jimmy Johns).

5.  You must have some sort of "*~<3 Wedding Ideas <3~*" board because, well, let's be real--a girl can dream, right?  Plus, having a board where you plan out your dress, ring, bouquet, venue, place settings, bachelorette party, party favors, bridesmaid's dresses, husband's tux, cake, engagement pictures, invitations, save the dates, flower girl's dress etc (when the only vow you're probably going to take is one of silence) is so fun!!!

6.  FINALLY, be careful where you're pinning.  I suggest pinning from a secluded cubby in the library or in the privacy of your own home--because, trust me, nothing is more awkward than someone watching your "pintimate" pinning process (besides that awkward "pincident" when the questionable, on the verge of death, Betty White character commented on your most recent pin, "love it, but the clutch is too big!" ......)

Happy Pinning.


Peace, love, and Social (p)inadequacy.

Awkward Girl

#shitawkwardgirlssay

"I only like to joke dance."                                                                          

 "Wait, am I invited?"

 "No one knows me."

 "Why do I feel like I have toilet paper on my foot?"

 "Wait, can you hear my music?"

 "I want to die."

 "Is this normal?"

 "Am I the only one who watches Survivor?"

 "I'm just going to become a nun."

 "My sense of humor is too refined for them."

 "Can you tell I'm not wearing a bra?"

 "I just downloaded the best 90's music."

  "That makes me feel so uncomfortable."

  "This is making me sick to my stomach."

  "Is this real life?"

  "I miss Boy Meets World."

  "I'm not funny."

  "Can you wait for me?"

  "Please don't make me walk in first."

  "I hate windows down."

  "Hide me."

  "I know him, but he doesn't know me."

  "Pretend you're talking to me."

  "Where'd you get that beer?"

  "Don't worry, I'm gonna wear a tank top underneath this."

  "Wait, there's no toilet paper..."

  "Don't look."

  "I feel so slutty."

  "I can't walk in heels."

  "OMGOMGOMG GET ME OUT OF HERE."

  "This would happen to me."

I put the awk in "aquatic"

      Maybe it's because I'm fed up with this psycho Charlie Sheen weather (sunny and upwards of 60 degrees, then rainy and downwards of 20 degrees), but for whatever reason I find myself reflecting on summer--which naturally makes me grimace.  Don't get me wrong, I love summer just as much as the next girl.  What's not to love about a few months of peace and solitude--away from nagging professors, term papers, the dreaded group projects that seem to pop up in EVERY class, and, of course, the long "walk of shame" to class.  No, no, summer--I LOVE.  It's the whole "let's go to the pool, drown ourselves in so much tanning oil that we look artificial, and strut around in our newest ADORABLE Victoria's Secret bikini!" thing that makes me want to dive (okay, belly flop) into the deep end and never come up for air ever again.

     Why girls love being poolside is beyond me.  I guess it's something to add to my "things I loathe with a fiery passion that is only rivaled by the Kardashians' passion for insane amounts of eye makeup" list (hula hoop-ing, watching movie sex scenes, and interacting with people is also high up on that list, in case you were wondering).  WHY does a nice trip to the pool make me wish that I lived in that lonely cave with the abominable snowman from Monster's Inc?  Let me count the ways:

1) Simply put, this summer when you tell your mom you're "going to the Red Lobster's!" she'll know that you aren't going to an overpriced, mediocre wannabe seafood restaurant (though if you haven't tried their biscuits, you should probably just go back to whatever planet you hail from), but merely coming to my house for a Harry Potter movie marathon.

2) The only time I'll ever be comfortable wearing an itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka dot bikini is when national "wear an itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka dot bikini and get free Chipotle for life!" day comes around--until then, I'll pass.

3) "Do you wanna play with these diving sticks?"  Sure, why don't you just smother me in honey and direct me to the nearest bear-infested national park, while you're at it?  These pool games or "drool games" (as I lovingly refer to them) were more common in my neon star shaped sunglasses, tankini-wearing days, but, needless to say, I'm still scarred.  I put the AWK in "aquatic."  I can't dive, I flounce around like a mutant seahorse and call it "swimming," and I'm still semi-convinced a shark inhabits the bottom of the deep end.

4) Disrobing myself at the pool is, without a doubt, THE most vulnerable I will EVER feel--EVER.  I always feel like some weird wannabe subpar stripper when I take off my shirt and shorts and reveal my milky pallor to the world (for this is before I reach lobster status, you see).  Bruno Mars should seriously change his lyrics to "when you strip down to your bathing suit, the whole world stops and stares for a while."  Seriously.

5)  Last, but not least--the DEATH CHAMBER, oops, I mean the bathroom.  If you don't wear shoes in there, good luck trying to get rid of the athlete's foot/herpes/fungi/mold/questionable new species that has now taken residence on your feet.  Not to mention, some people actually take real showers in there and there's like naked babies doing somersaults everywhere.  It's just a really messed up situation that I try to avoid at all costs (and no, I do not pee in the pool, don't worry).

Well, if you ever wondered why I always refer to a "pool" of awkwardness, there ya have it.  Too many awkward occurrences there, and not enough aloe in the WORLD to make ANY of it okay.

Peace, Love, and whistles (from the lifeguard because you keep hanging on the lane line).

Awkward Girl

(Awkward Girl) Walk of Shame

     For awkward girls, "walk of shame" has a whole different twisted meaning than the general population's.  Forget the classic "Snooki look-a-like strutting down the street still donning last night's guidette makeup, wearing hooker heels and a sweatshirt (if she's lucky) that the guy she shacked up with (is that even the proper use of that word?) was kind of enough to loan her."  No, no, no my friends--I'm talking a different, but no less shameful, "walk of shame" that awkward girls face EVERYDAY OF THEIR LIVES.

    You see, an awkward girl's walk of shame is worse in that she can have SEVERAL throughout her awkward-filled day.  An awkward girl's "walk of shame" can range from anything to carrying a Victoria's Secret bag around the mall (like, cool, I bought a bra but everyone probs thinks I bought lacy cheetah print thongs) to the dreaded walk down the dorm floor to the shower in a towel (which is more of a sprint than a walk due to the male specimens inhabiting the other half of the floor) to arriving late to class (because isn't the classroom door ALWAYS at the front of the room and isn't there ALWAYS backpacks in the aisle to trip on?!) to walking back from a night out on the town and getting cat calls from guys on their porches (kill me now).  But, there IS one "walk of shame" that is absolutely unavoidable/HORRIFIC, and yes, I AM referring to the long trek to class.

     On a scale of accidentally liking someone's profile picture from 3 years ago to Kristen Stewart, this "walk of shame" is off the charts--like accidentally playing footsie with the guy sitting across from you at the library but 1000x WORSE.  Why is such a simple everyday task so daunting for us awkward girls?  While putting one foot in front of the other sounds simple enough--YOU COULDN'T BE MORE WRONG.  For starters, we are severely pigeon toed (because, really, why wouldn't we be?) and if we aren't paying attention we often find ourselves veering off track into a building/tree/Ryan Gosling clone.  Throw some ice or snow into the equation and we'd probably be better off to just chop off our feet and drag ourselves to class using our knuckles (seriously).

    Then there's the whole eye contact issue.  Every human is like a basilisk to us awkward girls (sorry for all the Harry Potter references all the time, but actually, I'm really not) in that we feel we will die (of embarassment/awkwardness) if we look someone straight in the eyes.  Therefore, we employ many tactics to avoid this whole dilemma.  Earbuds in, iPod on, because we feel this eliminates any obligation to look at anyone, EVER, since DUH we're totally captivated with our music (though we do always make SURE that our iPod isn't so loud that others can hear because, honestly, we're a little ashamed about the fact that S Club Party is on our Top 25 Most Played playlist). 

    We also find ourselves staring pensievely off into the horizon at distant objects such as trees, birds or buildings (as if we care about nature/architecture/anything but our current Words with Friends game) so as to look deeply engrossed in our complex thoughts.  Cute group of guys approaching?  We just received a really long, intense "text message" that requires us to keep our eyes glued to our phone screen or possibly our we just became severely OCD about our nail polish  and suddenly need to chip it all off until the group passes.

    When we do make eye contact (however fleeting the second is) we give a little half-smile that often isn't reciprocated, causing us to shift our eyes to that object in that distant that we were staring at prior to the whole awkward situation.  Unfortunately, this just makes us look entirely creepy/mentally unstable as we stare into the distance with that god awful half-smile glued onto our face.

    Last, but CERTAINLY not least, we have the whole "what do I do with my arms/hands?" problem.  Honestly, we're jealous of Captain Hook.  His life must be so easy because, undoubtedly, the most awkward thing about us awkward girls are our lengthy, gangly limbs.  If we don't have pockets or a cell phone/ipod to latch onto we literally don't know how to handle ourselves.  It takes every awkward fiber of strength within us to fight the urge to go all apeshit and pull a "Britney Spears" and shave off all our hair.  Without something to preoccupy our hands with, they swing lifelessly/awkwardly at our sides--making us look like some creepy human orangutan hybrid that just escaped the local zoo (or, if you happen to live in Ohio, the nearest farm).

    So, Snooki look-a-likes of the world, we actually feel your pain (minus the whole "we can't walk in heels" thing).  We endure walks of shame every time we step out our door.  As a matter of fact, I'm about to embark on my own--the dreaded tampons purchase.  YIKES!


Peace, Love, and chia pets.


Awkward Girl

   

 

Compliment (n): Verbal Raping

     Kinda funny (but actually really tragic, so not funny at all) how a simple sentence such as "I LOVE your skirt, where did you get it?!" can make an awkward girl want to set herself on fire, pogo stick off the top of a mountain, and fall headfirst into a pile of Forever Lazys that are doused in gasoline and self loathing.  Put simply, no one wants to be that chick in Mean Girls who was rocking her mom's skirt from the 80's, got complimented by Regina George, and subsequently looked like a complete arse when the whole exchange was over.  AND, don't even get me started on those giggling, sweet talking, creepy starfish earrings that Aquamarine wore.  Those earrings would bring about an awkward girl's slow and painful demise in that they actually make water boarding look like a simple playful game of bobbing for apples.  ****But, seriously, on a side note, what could those starfish earrings have possibly whispered to JoJo?  Like, "Don't worry, you only looked like a pubescent boy in 95% of this movie?" (Wait, what? Who said that?)****

     Anywho, compliments are to awkward girls as Achilles' heel was to, well, Achilles (I'm all clever comparison-ed out).  Compliments are deadly, and nothing makes us blush/consider self-imposed exile/feel more verbally raped than receiving one.  We are ALWAYS caught off guard since our awkward ways (clumsiness, inability to formulate worthwhile sentences, and complete ignorance to social norms) don't readily lend ourselves to the receiving of them.  Consequently, everytime a compliment is thrown our way, we lament the fact that it doesn't come attached to a life jacket (which would at least help us to stay somewhat afloat in the whirlpool of awkwardness that we seem to be constantly flailing around in).

     Unfortunately, compliments, for 99.999% of the population, aren't interpreted as a ticking time bomb (crazy, right?!) and are actually cherished by the receivers--thus we encounter them more than we would like to.  WELL, needless to say, awkward girls are not like 99.999% of the population and, plain and simple, COMPLIMENTS SCARE THE LIVING DAYLIGHTS OUT OF US.  Why, you may ask?  Well, let's see--we spend our days fuzzy socks on, hood up, head down, iPod in, hands in pockets, pretending that we are navigating the forests of Narnia when we're ACTUALLY just trying to get through the day by being as inconspicuous as possible.  Being the center of attention/really just getting ANY attention makes us slightly nauseous--hence the piercing glare we give to family and friends when they ask the waiters at TGI Friday's to sing us happy birthday.

    So, dear normal specimens of the world, try to think twice before you drunkenly go up to the awkward girl in the restroom at the bar and tell her "YOU'RE UBER PRETTY!" or "I LOVE THAT TOP ON YOU!!"  And, trust me, you will most definitely be able to discern this unique creature from all the rest of them.  She's the one who almost walked in on a girl ("Oooooops, sorry!!! I thought I knocked!!?!"), keeps using air quotes in casual conversation, and is about to have a mental breakdown because the only grinding she is comfortable with involves her teeth at night.

     All in all, if you wish to avoid witnessing an awkward girl self-destruct before your very eyes--keep the compliments to a minimum, or better yet, don't say anything at all.  You will save us awkward girls the embarassment of  accepting said compliment (which we somehow irrationally feel is tantamount to admitting that "HAHAHA I MAKE MEGAN FOX LOOK LIKE AN UGLY TROLL AND I'M SO TRENDY HAHAHA!") and having to come up with a compliment to give back to you (which will be less of a compliment and more like a creepy statement, a la "Your hair is really shiny today?.!?!") 

     It's best to adhere to Awkward Girl Commandment #362: "If you have something nice to say, it's better to not say anything at all." 


Peace, Love, and toe socks.


Awkward Girl

POC (Painfully Outgoing Chick)

     The POC or "the girl that pisses out whole unicorns" as I like to fondly refer to her is the bane of any awkward girl's existence.  Think the chubby "rainbows and butterflies" girl that "DOESN'T EVEN GO HERE," as Damien thoughtfully points out in Mean Girls.  Except this girl does attend your school, is in your classes, shares mutual friends with you, and pops up EVERYWHERE.  If you didn't know any better, you'd think she has her own personal Marauder's Map of your college campus and seeks you out--where ever you are, just to torture you endlessly.

     We all know her and have had the unpleasant task of interacting with her.  She will talk to ANYTHING and does not accept one word answers/grunts.  You're holding a chem book in your hand as you enter the elevator?  What a coinkydinc, because "OMG HER BF TOOK THAT CLASS LAST QUARTER AND SAID IT WAS SOOO HARD!"  You're drinking a coffee in class.  "IS THAT HAZELNUT I SMELL? SO JEAL, THAT'S MY FAV!"  You're a hungover, lethargic college student walking to class Friday morning at the crack of dawn and you pass her in your dormitory lobby "HI! GOOD MORNING!"  She's one of those people that you met at a party one time, yet she acts as if you used to take baths together as kids. 

     The whole time you converse with this Betty White clone, you are plotting your next move to flee the conversation.  She KNOWS you loathe small talk, yet she still tries to have meaningful, drawn out conversations at parties, in elevators, and at the library (garnering heart-shattering stares from your peers which subsequently makes you wish the silly bandz on your wrist had sharp spikes that you could use to claw this POC's eyes out with).  The POC's only redeeming quality is that she does always carry on the conversation (because God knows every conversation YOU'VE ever taken charge of seems to end in you awkwardly suggesting that "OMG WE SHOULD HANG!" even though just seconds before you were hiding behind a rack of clothes in the fetal position so as to avoid the wench), leaving you to simply nod, pity laugh, and spew an awkward sentence or two here and there.  However, you always still end up tongue tied and feeling violated when the conversation finally comes to an awkward, abrupt halt (because you had to conveniently hurry off to pick up your dry cleaning that you "forgot"). 

     POCs always grow up to be those annoying dentists that we all LOATHE who decide it'll be an AWESOME idea to ask the patient thought-provoking questions whilst their hands are flopping around lifelessly in the patient's mouth.  "Sorry, what's your major/life plan/hopes and dreams? I couldn't quite understand you."  No shit, Sherlock, it's hard to talk, let alone breathe, when your blocking my airway with your gorilla hands.  There's a reason POC and doc rhyme, my friends.  Yes, we have all encountered this painfully outgoing girl, whether it be in a dorm, office, class room, party, mall, parking garage, library, restaurant, chat room, animal shelter, etc.  Unfortunately there is no known cure for this chick's painful outgoing-ness (except for maybe a serving of humble pie in the form of this blog post i.e. YOU NEED TO TONE IT DOWN POCs OF THE WORLD BEFORE US AWKWARD GIRLS SPONTANEOUSLY COMBUST!) as it has been nurtured from day one by equally annoying and self-absorbed parents whose minivan is easily spotted because of all the obnoxious, brightly colored bumper stickers, such as "My kid is an honor student" and "I love my basset hound." 

     The best thing you can do when you see this girl approaching you is to duck into the nearest alley/become suddenly engrossed in a "phone conversation"/run away screaming bloody murder because, believe me, this chick is like a dementor in that she will  slowly suck out your awkward soul with every word she utters.


Peace, love, and Snuggies.


Awkward Girl