Let Me See Your Booty Work

Now that I’m back in the city, I’m on the hunt for a new gym to join. I don’t have many requirements other than I want group classes with upbeat music (Nickleback is not allowed) and a collection of good looking straight men to show off my lunging skills to. In the quest to find this gym, I stumbled upon a barre class with an awesome 6 week new client deal that I couldn’t say no to (to avoid confusion, please note this isn’t a tequila bar). Up until my first class, I considered myself to be decently athletic. After 10 minutes of off and on squatting on my tip toes, my legs were shaking uncontrollably and I questioned whether I actually had any muscles. The following is a recap of my trials and tribulations:

I arrived at class about 20 minutes early to scope out the scene. I opened the door to what I think is the studio and find I can either take the freight elevator up or walk the 3 flights of stairs to meet my fate. I figured arriving to my first class in the elevator may have been frowned upon so I decided to hike up the stairs. As I dropped my belongings off, I began my usual people watching routine and found I was in a different league than I was used to. Mind you, I’m in an oversized pinny, spandex pants (which are actually required), socks that may or may not have been inside out and my hair was in a bun on top of my head...I thought I looked good. These girls/women were decked out in Lululemon attire, whether or not it actually fit them, hair ‘gently’ pinned back and looked like this was the one and only workout class that they participated in because it doesn’t require an awful lot of sweating. I also noticed that most of my classmates all had GIANT diamond rings. I wondered if we would get one as a party favor for showing up, but at one month in, having still not received mine, I’m beginning to question that rumor.

After politely declining to purchase the $15 special socks they sell (which I end up having to purchase the next class because i forgot my own), we file into the room and are instructed to pick up 2 and 3 lb weights. I was all like this is gonna be mad easy kids.

We began marching in place, adding in arm movements and I realized that I’m terrible at moving multiple parts of my body at once (otherwise known as multitasking). I think this is the reason why I was never allowed to take dance.

Next we were told to grab the heavier weights for some arm exercises. I noticed that I had grabbed one 3lb and one 4lb weight but was to nervous to switch them out. I immediately became concerned that one arm was going to gain more muscle than the other but since it was TIME TO GET MY SWELL ON I just went with it.

I get called out for pivoting incorrectly and decide I’m unsure if I like this teacher or not.

Next we move to the barre by the mirror. Now it was time to squat on my tip toes and pulse up and down. It only took me about 30 seconds to begin uncontrollably shaking at which point I began to question if I had any muscles and if there was a god.

Get called out a second time for not standing high enough on my toes. HAY LADY YOU TRY DOING THIS. Commenced dagger eyes.

My attention span started to wander so I glanced at the clock through the mirror and noticed it’s already been 40 minutes. Only 20 more to go and I was going to be a free lady… I then turned away from the mirror and realize I had read it backwards…it had only been 20 minutes. I hate myself.

“The higher the heels, the thinner the thighs”…Yea yea yea

I got corrected for like the 5th time because I was using my right arm instead of my left. That was totally my bad.

For the remainder of class I decide to focus my attention on the two poor boys who were forced to join today’s session and draw conclusions as to why they actually came. One of their girlfriends must have stated how hard the class was and promised sexual favors if he joined in. Not wanting to be the lone male, he dragged his friend and promised him plenty of alcohol and a way to meet girls. Sounds about right.

Moral of this story: I prefer regular bars where there are no clocks. Or mirrors to read clocks wrong. Good thing I still have 5 more weeks and 6 days until my membership expires...Not that I’m counting.


I WANNA SEE YOU WORK OUT FOR ME:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6PN78PS_QsM

Bonnie's Buzzfeed

For this post I decided to create my own “Thought Process Buzzfeed”. I chose to write down what I think about during my every day decision making process of figuring out what I want to do for lunch (which typically spans over a few hours). The first day I tried this, I made it to about 3:30 before realizing I had forgotten my plan. So to make sure I remembered the next day, I plastered my desk in post it notes. I then spent the better part of my commute home googling pictures to complete mah own personal buzzfeed. For anyone wondering why it takes me so long to accomplish tasks/projects, you now have an inside perspective of my fantastical thought process:

THE DILEMMA: What do I want for lunch today?? It’s currently 8:30, I just arrived at the office and I NEED to know. I have T minus 3.5 hours until game time. I want to try some place new. I’ve had enough of the salad bar. 

Hmm I want dreadlocks. I think I’d look great in them.

 

                                VS.

   (I think we know who looks better here)

I also need an island dog, and I needed it yesterday.

                                                             (la la la I love da sand)

                                                      

Eh on second thought, a dog’s too much work. I’ll settle for a kitten.

Time to check craigslist for a jeep *Spend the next 30 minutes Alt/Tabbing between windows when people walk by*

                                       This seems to be the most practical one I've found

Need a snack…WHO ATE ALL OF THE OFFICE CHEEZ ITS? I will find you.

This office is sweltering. Wicked witch of the west status up in here.

                                                  SHE'S STRAIGHT UP MELTING

What do I want to eat for dinner? Ugh no concentrate. Focus on lunch!

To go for a run or not to go for a run after work… Go for a run.

I’m.so.sleepy. Need caffeine stat.

                                                                Starbucks got clever

Decide I want to own a food truck. Cue googling wiki ‘how to start a business’

Changed my mind. I’m definitely not running today.

Would I sell treats from my truck? Cupcakes are overrated. Maybe I just need a candy truck.

What am I in the mood for? WHY CAN’T I JUST EAT PASTA AT EVERY MEAL and who invented carbs?

How do I get Oprah or Ellen D. to interview me? I WANNA BE FAMOUS, I’D BE SO GOOD AT IT.

                                                 If Honey Boo Boo can be famous, so can I

I’m craving a giant sub. And fries. So.Many.Calories.So.Little.Time.

Back to the issue at hand. WHERE DO I EAT?

Should probably just eat a salad. Do I go where I usually go or should I switch it up?

Oh my god, I’m freezing. Where’s my forever lazy?

                                                        (I do actually own one of these)

Does Panera count as fun and exciting?

Gawd Damn, it’s 11:50 and I don’t know where I’m eating.

*Panic starts to set in*

 Start closing windows on my computer, and get distracted by the jeeps again.

11:57: 3 minutes to go. Start asking everyone around me where I should go. Get asked the “What are you in the mood for question?” I DON’T KNOW THAT’S WHY IM ASKING. HALPPPPPPPPP

11:58: What have I been doing all morning, it’s almost 12 and I’m going to die hungry

11:59: Maybe I’ll know once I get in the elevator.

12:00: End up outside, overwhelmed, convinced I may perish before picking a spot.

12:01: It’s now or never. I’ve been standing next to the homeless man on the curb for 1 minute too long.

FINEEEE, I’ll go to the salad bar AGAIN.

*Spend the next 30 minutes eating my salad having FOMO (fear of missing out) that I should have tried some place new and/or could have been eating a giant sub with fries.*

There’s always tomorrow.

That's So Fetch!

If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it 100 times: people watching (or anything shiny) could keep me entertained for hours.  I spend most of the time wondering what's going on in these strangers’ brains to make them wear specific articles of clothing/act a certain way. If Mel Gibson could hear people’s thoughts in What Women Want, than why can’t I??? Would they have a pinball thought process like mine? Are they thinking about fro-yo? Are they looking back at me being like “Why’s this chick eyeballin me?” I have so many questions but no answers!

Walking from South Station to my office is by far the best people watching route (other than riding the train) and I make it a point to be wearing sunglasses so I won’t get punched in the face. I’ve considered making a dedicated twitter account to the people I come across but since I haven’t figured out a way to stealthy take photos to go along with my tweets, this’ll have to do. I definitely thought I saw Willow Smith today but it turned out to just be some other 14 year old girl with a mohawk. Is snapping a pic considered bullying? Nahhhhhh

I come across a lot of people who I call the “crazies” but I also witness a lot of people who lack any concept of appropriate attire. Now I know I can’t be one to talk fashion since I prefer sleeveless things BUT I’m at least aware of my surroundings and know it’s not appropriate to wear a leotard to work…as unfortunate as that is. I also wouldn’t wear something that didn’t fit me just because it was trendy. I see more girls whose friends need to sit them down and be like “LISTEN, YOU HAVE A CAMELTOE. CHECK YOURSELF”. Luckily for me, I grew up with a strong support system of family and friends who had plenty of opinions:

Wearing eyeliner to a family dinner: “Why are you wearing camo paint?”

Wearing skinny jeans to a family dinner: “Did you need a shoe horn to get into those?”

On wearing my favorite sweatpants: “You realize you have no ass when you wear those right?”

Trying to wear droopy shirts to every event possible: “ No.”

On wearing heals over 2 inches: “Oh okay amazon”

Wearing a flowy off white dress: “Hey Band Perry, nice doily dress”

Need more examples?

Since I experienced tough love, consider this my public service announcement on fashion 'tings that I may even send to Menino to plaster on bill boards.

High waisted, tight, short shorts:

These look good on about 5% of the female population yet the other 95% like to wear them as well. If I see one more girl under the age of 18 wearing these paired with a crop top, I may freak out.

Skinny pants that are too skinny:

This goes for guys, girls and hipsters. If I learn you have cellulite, in a place I didn’t know cellulite existed, while you’re wearing full coverage pants…we have a problem.  Ain’t nobody got time for dat.

Women who don't believe in bras:

I'm convinced there is a secret society for women, that when they turn a certain age, they think they don’t have to wear bras. Instead they wear the tightest shirt possible and just let them hang. Enough is enough. Gravity isn’t helping anyone in this situation and unless you have a clubhouse like the “He Man Women Haters”, this isn’t a legit thing.  #nomoreladynips

Giant glasses:
Coming from someone who is legitimately blind as a bat, and pays extra to have the glass slimmed down so my eyes aren't magnified, I don't see (literally ha) the appeal of wearing fake glasses just cuz. Since I already used percents, I'd say 8 out of 10 of these people, don't have the face to pull them off and I'd compare their looks to when Mr. Potato Head wears glasses.

In conclusion, everyone should be forced to watch at least one episode of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy and I think the world would be a better dressed place…Or at least the people I encounter while walking. 

This was a good 2 minute youtube voice over distraction:

CLICK MEH

And this was a catchy beat:

NSK NSK NSK

The Sporadic Heckle

Writing blogs on a regular basis is a bit more difficult than I thought it would be. Going into this, I was aiming for one new post a week but I honestly don’t have enough topics that I want to write about and I’m not sure people would enjoy a post full of LOLz cats pictures. Another grand plan I had was to have a reoccurring post called the “Weekly Heckle” where I would write about trending topics and my opinions on them. Clearly that hasn’t happened, so I’m changing the name to the “Sporadic Heckle”. That being said, WELCOME TO THE FIRST EVER REOCCURRING POST THAT I CAN’T PROMISE WILL EVER HAPPEN ON A REGULAR BASIS! The topics are potentially going to be all over the pace but if I happen to go on a rant about how cool I think Miley’s hair is, I give you permission to quit reading then and there. I will try my hardest not to.

Amanda Bynes:
Dat gurl be CRAY. I was never a big fan of her growing up but now I just can’t get enough. She’ll sue just about anybody, and then go all Taylor Swift on Drake. “I love you. I love you not. I love you…”

Her rap career will probably be short lived but mark my words that I’ll be at the front of the line for her first underground show here in Boston. Maybe she’ll be the next lil Kim.

Miley Cyrus’s We Can’t Stop song/video:
WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN?! When I first heard the song, I couldn’t stand it. But then I heard it again and decided it was kind of catchy. Then I watched the video and got confused while wondering if I could pull off that hair style (still up in the air). Next thing I know, it appeared on my spotify playlist and I’ve already listened to it 3 times before 8 AM.

My favorite parts:
“So la da di da di, we like to party, dancin with Miley, doin whatever we want” I was completely convinced she was saying ‘Molly’ but after googling multiple lyrics websites, I’ve confirmed that she pulled a Brittney Spears “If You Seek Amy” move. Well done Miles, well done.

“To my home girls here with the big butts shakin it like we at a strip club” I’m totally with Miley on this, forget the haters, only god can judge us. Miley’s twitter handle should be #1Twerker. I wonder if she's ever visited Zachary's...probs where she got her inspiration from.

Enough said.


Mistah Aaron Hernandez:
My news feed, as well as most of yours, has been blowing up about dis MURDER. If you’ve watched CSI for even one minute, you should understand the basic concept of what not to do when killing someone. Apparently he was too busy doing hoodrat things to pay attention to what Horatio had to say. 

North West:
A+ for Kim and Kanye being kreative but there’s no way in hell this baby’s going to turn out normal. That's really all I have to say.


 I probably should get back to work since this is only a 3 day week but I'm having a hard time concentrating with America's birthday coming up. It's really hard to file and complete tasks when I'm brainstorming what American themed tank top I should buy, my strategy for day drinking, what kind of snacks I'm going to need, pondering where my ipod is currently located so i can update playlists and researching where I can find a flag themed snapback. Meanwhile, my inbox is filling up and I'm all like "I'm currently blogging, and planning fun activities sooooo that letter you need mailed is definitely going to need to wait". Woof.

Anyways I hope everyone has a MERRY 4TH OF JULY! If you're looking for me, I'll 99% be somewhere in the ocean pretending to be a mermaid, who never has to sit a desk again, and looking for my Prince Eric, who will probably be wearing a cutoff and an American themed bandanna.  

CHEERS!

"Is there even alcohol in this?"

From the time I was 14, my summer jobs have mainly revolved around working in a restaurant setting. Whether it was counter service, cocktailing, waitressing, bartending or hostessing, I’ve made a go at them all. For two of those summers I also dabbled in being a landscape flower girl but the time frame for both jobs didn’t mesh well. I was working 7:30-3:30 planting and watering flowers (sometimes the weeds too if they were pretty enough), and 4:30-1:30 at the bar. This combination made for one sleep deprived Bonnie who was usually put in charge of driving the box truck VROOM VROOM.

The first few times I was a cocktail waitress, I had no clue how to differentiate all of the liquors let alone remember what we had. I was convinced we sold ‘Jim Bean’, and I made up beer flavors along the way. 

“Oh yes, I would definitely say that it has a hoppy taste to it” 

“You’re looking for a pale ale? How’s about a bud lite?”

I’m not actually positive how I managed to stay afloat during my bar learning curve but for the love of the alcohol gods, I did. 

When I initially moved to Boston, I made a go of working at Charlie’s on Newbury Street because no one in the real world wanted to hire me yet. I should have known from day one that I was not going to like working there. Mainly because I was forced to wear a men’s white button down with a tie, black pants and creepy black leather shoes… This was not ‘a single girl, new to Boston looking to meet all of the eligible bachelors cruising Newbury Street type of outfit’. This was an ‘I ate all of my feelings today so I’m wearing 3 sizes too large of clothes and I’m questioning my sexuality’ type of outfit. Needless to say, I only lasted a few weeks. 

Over the years, I’ve seen my fair share of customers who either made for an enjoyable experience or left me with the feeling of just wanting to kick them in the shins. I've been mentally compiling a list and I’m sure that by the end of this summer, I’ll be able to write a book...Or maybe just a blog post. If you’ve ever worked for one minute in the restaurant biz, you’ll know exactly who I’m talking about. However, if you’re reading this and it reminds you of something you’ve done/do, make sure you wear shin guards when you come visit me this summer! 

• One of the regulars who decided to eat all of the mint leaves from the bar to make sure he had fresh breath because ‘he was going to get someeeee tonight’. “Sorry there are no more mojitos because this fine sir is chewing on the rest of our mint supply”

• The ‘ladies night out’ group of women, who look like they’ve all been sucking on lemons, that end up drinking at least a bottle of Chardonnay each while judging everyone who comes in. “I hear she makes car commercials...in Japan”

• The regular who comes in each week with a different lady friend. “This’ll be our little secret”

• The “Can I please have your specialty burger but with no egg, pineapple, lettuce, tomato, onion, cheese, bun (I’m gluten free…)" "So you just want a plain burger…”

• The customer who orders something that’s not on the menu and is upset because they claim to have had it last year…When we’ve never served that dish ever…

• The customer who comes in wearing the same outfit that the servers are wearing. “Oh wassup Nantucket reds”

• The “Oh, I can vouch for him, he’s definitely 21” parents when I ask their kid for ID that he conveniently left it at home. "One name? Who are you? Seal?!"

• The bar patron who demands your attention the entire time they are sitting there and inserts themselves into other peoples conversations. “Let me tell you my views regarding politics because I bet you really care and I’ll make sure to progressively get louder if I feel like you’re ignoring me!” 

I could keep going but that would ruin my sequel to this post so in the mean time, just watch this:
 
Shit People Say to Bartenders


PS. COME VISIT ME ON THE WEEKENDS SO I DON'T INSTAGRAM COCKTAILS EVERY SHIFT! (Don't worry I know what Jim Beam is now...)

Summer Hours - Open For Business

As summer is creeping closer, I’m beginning to get restless knowing that I will be trapped inside Monday through Friday. I’m not sure why law offices don’t close down from June-August or why I just can’t work from home aka the beach. I would like to point out that there’s a little thing called Wi-Fi which I could use it while simultaneously working on my base tan. That's what I call multitasking people.

At what point should I grow up and learn to deal with not going to the Cape every weekend? The answer to that is never. Why not just move home for the summer and wear neon cut off tshirts on the reg? I’m on the hunt for a job that will give me summers off, while still paying me, that does not entail me being a teacher (this if for the sake of the children) but allows me to live in luxury. Does something like this even exist, and if so, why have you kept it from me for so long?!

As I'm preparing to move in with my new roommates for the summer (HI MOM AND DAD), I keep reminding myself that I'm not actually going to be on vacation and that I will have to make it to Boston by 8:30 each morning. I feel bad for any poor soul who encounters me during this commute and will make sure to have my obnoxiously large headphones and sunglasses on to hinder any social interactions.

Once home, I will definitely have to make some adjustments to my routine but I'm going to see what I can incorporate into theirs first. I mean, who knows, maybe Steve-O will want to watch Real Housewives with me as long as provide ice cream and commandeer the clicker before Antiques Roadshow.

Hungover Sunday mornings will now consist of questions on questions on questions and cats sitting at the edge of my bed judging me that I haven't moved all morning.

Combination of both parents:"Rough night, huh? What did you drink?"
Me: Mumble, mumble "tequila", mumble, mumble
Them: "Do you like the way you're feeling?"
Me: Silence.Stop making movements. Maybe I'm invisible now...
Them: "We need help in the yard soooo are you getting up soon?"

At that point, there will be no safe place for me to regret my night before in peace. Weeding here I come. 

Aside from that, I'm pretty excited to be with in a mile of Par-Tee Freeze (for those of you who aren't aware of my favorite ice cream place of all time, consider yourself told) and will hopefully get used to the early morning bus rides. I might even make some friends at the bus stop. Only time will tell.

Blah Blah Hipsters Blah

I initially thought that just by writing 'feelings' on a coffee cup it would accurately portray a hipster. Then I realized there were too many inconsistencies:

-In real life, they’d never be drinking a coffee from Dunkin or Starbucks. It would be from some obscure coffee shop that no one’s ever heard of.
-They’d also never be wearing those stunna shades (but I do look good). Should have borrowed someone’s ray bands.
-They would have used a filter to make it look more ‘old tyme’. Maybe Sepia or something.
-I'm missing an overly aggressive graphic tshirt. 
-A slight buzz cut is needed. 

Brighton/Allston is currently the central breeding ground for hipsters riding around on two-speeders and I’m smack dab in the middle of it. I have some issues that I need clarified and I’m not above stalking a hipster or two for an explanation.

Guys, I’m sorry, but skinny jeans are NEVER a good look (unless you’re Adam Levine and you’re singing directly to me). It also leaves little for the imagination, if ya catch my drift. Wearing your girlfriends zip-up? Even worse! I don’t care how cold you are, leave that shit at home. I get that you want to look super sensitive while at the same time making a statement but I’m confused as to how two sizes too small clothing achieves that for you.

Vegetarians don't eat meat because they don't believe it's ethical. Hipsters do the opposite of everyone around them because... Bueller? Bueller?

I can't even keep going.
I'm getting too worked up.
This is what hipsters do to me.
My emotions are all over the place.

I'll leave you with this: I’m onto all of you and your anti-mainstream ways. If knocking some sense into you requires me forcing you to listen some Selena Gomez or another pop star, I’ll do it.  


LISTEN TO DIS:

Robin Thicke just screams sex, all day every day:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yyDUC1LUXSU

(Now go watch the unrated version)

People Watching vs. Running

While speed walking on an incline or flailing my arms on the elliptical, I am always on the lookout for interesting gym goers:

The guy who’s wearing shorter shorts than me…and most of the females there

The guy who makes it known his high kicks are ten times better than yours during ‘cardio blast’

The girl who takes up half the mat just to show you how flexible she is

The girl who is on the treadmill when I get there and still on it when I leave… “I’m barely sweating”

The girl wearing full make up, a sports bra and chewing gum. “What? Like this is hard?”

The guy who only works out his back and arms so he can’t actually touch his hands together

The guy who wears a cutoff and just struts around looking at himself in mirrors. “One thousand and one. One thousand and two.”

Couples who work out together (3 types):

                -The girlfriend who just giggles at every exercise thinking how cute they look together. The guy starts regretting his decision to suggest this bonding activity

                -The girlfriend looks miserable and will probably break up with the guy after 3 more of these sessions. “Go home and step on the scale, write down how much you weigh, and subtract it by like, 20”

                -The most in fit/good looking couple you’ll ever see and you wonder how they met and how you can steal that babe of a boyfriend. “LOOK AT ME. I CAN DO SQUATS TOO”.

Or instead of going to the gym, I sometimes decide to run. How i get motivated:

1. Think about running
2. Think about running for about ten more minutes 
3. Decide I don’t want to run anymore
4. Then decide I should run because I’m dressed and I ate a box of girl scout cookies earlier
5. Cue my new ‘Runninggggggg’ playlist that I just wasted another 30 minutes creating on spotify
6. Start jogging
7. Wow, I’m feeling pretty great
8. I wonder how fast I’m going
9. I’m probably the fasted kid alive 
10. Run past another runner just to show them how in shape I think I am
11. Convinced I’ve run about 3 miles at this point
12. “You have hit 1 mile. Pace 8:55” says the British woman courtesy of my Nike running app
13. SAY WHAT
14. Start to get tired
15. Make a decision right then and there that I’m never running again after this 
16. Start to disregard all traffic signals fearing if I stop, I'll never get going again. IM RUNNING HERE 
17. Begin blaming everyone and anyone around me for making me do this
18. Black out
19. Appear at my apartment
20. Feel slightly accomplished
21. *Forget how much I hated physical activity ten minutes before* 
22. Huh, now that I can breathe again I feel pretty good
23. Maybe runnings not that bad.
24. I should do this more often.
25. Eat more girl scout cookies.

First 45 seconds of this seem about right.

If it’s Creepy, I’ll Try It

I literally can’t help myself when it comes to trying out or investigating weird things/trends. Growing up, if someone told me not to touch wet paint, I'd automatically have an inexplicable urge to reach out and touch it. Next thing you know, I’d leave a trail of fingerprints and I'd be caught 'red handed'. This is how I feel about online dating. I don't necessarily believe in it, but curiosity got the best of me. Instead of the usual conventional methods, I've listed a few others that I've dabbled in:

Tinder:

It’s all fun and games until you come across multiple people you went to high school with and a cab driver tells you you’re being immature for using it. Before going out one Saturday, I downloaded the app and was immediately hooked for the next 48 hours. It definitely seemed okay after a drink or 10 to message random guys my where abouts and hope they might meander my way. Come Monday morning, I was all tindered out.

OkCupid:

It’s essentially the MySpace for online dating. Once ‘FreckleFinder’ emailed me, I called it quits. 

Match.com/Eharmony (not sure which one it was):

Why do they ask me so many questions? I just want to look at the pictures. Why would I want to get to know the guy first before seeing his photo?! I tried justifying that I would only need a handful of guys to take me out to make up for the 3 month trial fee but again, after answering one too many “On a typical Friday night, what would you prefer to be doing: A. Bowling B. Out dancing with friends C. Sitting on the couch watching movies D. Cleaning” I lost interest.

Grouper:

Seemed like a good idea at the time but after going on two of them, I decided I’d rather just go to a bar, climb on a stool, scan the room for a group of normal looking guys, take a shot and saunter in their direction…Or in reality try to make eye contact and send a message via telepathy like WALK THIS WAY.

Craigslist:

Yea, yea, yea this was by far the creepiest one I tried (Sorry, Mom). I was casually searching apartments when I clicked on the personals. Next thing I know, I’m reading (and by reading, scanning for keywords) a post that essentially went like this: blah blah looking for a sugar daddy? blah blah like shopping? blah blah blah no commitment? blah blah want money? Blah blah. Out of all things, my first thought was 'What if I become famous and someone digs this up? How do I do this without leaving a paper trail?" Normal. Next thing I know, I've drafted an email and am one step closer to finding a sugar daddy...Until he responded, saying he was 29, worked for the mbta and was just lonely. Game over.

After writing this, I've realized I probably shouldn't have access to the internet; I'm not sure how I've managed to come this far without having a stalker who knows where I live and that since I'd prefer not to become the next Craigslist killer victim, I should probably just go ahead and delete the fake gmail account I may...or may not have.

Cheers!

If you've listened to Evolution 101.7 for 5 minutes, you've definitely heard this:

Cazzette - Beam Me Up

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HUKkq2LXiUU

One Year Shy of a Quarter Life Freak Out

QUICK WHAT'S THE NUMBER FOR 911?

All through college I had big dreams to work for the government, FBI type of things. Closer to graduation I began to realize that’s not what I wanted to do with my criminal justice degree. As May crept closer, I was still clueless. While most of my friends were frantically applying for jobs, I took on the approach that I wanted one more summer on the Cape to do hoodrat things, relax before taking a 9-5 job, and hoped that in those few months I would realize something I was super passionate about…other than Calvin Harris.  Fast forward two years, and I still don’t have a clue as to what I want to do for the rest of my life and while that freaks me da fuck out, I'm slowly starting to accept it. Other than becoming famous and being the parking garage mogul of Boston, I have a hard time pin pointing what direction I’d like to go in. I also now have weekly panic attacks that go something like this: IM 24 YEARS OLD WITH NO DIRECTION, AN INABILTY TO COMMIT.... AND WHY AM I CURRENTLY ON CRAIGSLIST LOOKING AT PERSONAL ADS FOR FUN WHEN I SHOULD BE LOOKING FOR AN APARTMENT? I then have to remind myself that it’s not the end of the world, there are a lot of people my age in the same position and that calling home and telling my parents my life is over is a little melodramatic.

But this is normal right? It totally has to be. While I have no clear path paved for me, it's not always going to be socially acceptable for me to binge drink, wake up the next morning wondering who I snapchatted, demand a breakfast sandwich be delivered to me and then claim that I'm never going to drink again. That being said, I can't waste my time thinking about what's going to happen tomorrow when I should be more concerned about where I'm going to order fro-yo from tonight. Maybe one of these days, I'll wake up and have a better idea of what I want to be doing ten years from now, but until then IMMA KEEP DOING ME.

Yours in life lessons,

Bonnie

PS. You should listen to this song:

Electric Guest - This Head I Hold

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nVSiwMVaKe4

Johnny Blogger

WELCOME!

I decided to try my luck with writing a blog because I developed a fear of over tweeting and losing my twitter street cred. I'm 24 years old (that's me ^!) with a knack for acting like I'm 15. People watching is one of my favorite activities and I find it's a great conversation starter when there's an awkward silence...either that or a hipster joke.

My thought process is what some would call a bit random but I think that will help keep you all entertained or at least still reading. So sit back, relax, take a shot of tequila and enjoy!

Cheers!