Bad Cereal & Other Disappointments

I’m sorry I haven’t written in a while. I’ve literally been as busy as Obama since school started. Except, Obama doesn’t have a personal blog, so I’m technically busier.

Update: I’m currently eating a bowl of rice krispie cereal with about 10 spoonfuls of brown sugar, almond milk (to add in a healthy kick), and a glass of wine. I don’t know why anyone eats this cereal. It tastes like a wet couch cushion. There is literally no flavor and nothing to look forward to. At least with lucky charms, you can eat all the fake cheerios and then save the marshmallows for the climax of your meal. The brown sugar helps, but I must add in that I considered having a second bowl of just brown sugar and almond milk to satisfy my drunk belly.

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Update 2: (I’m not complaining, but I’m about to complain). I have a decently full schedule this semester. I have to take five classes, work two jobs, be the head of marketing for some magazine, and teach a class. I’m not sure who let me be in charge of anything, but I’m in charge of a lot of things. Be that as it may, I am taking a creative non-fiction class to satiate the urge to talk and write about myself all day long. I will be posting some of those stories as blog posts until further notice. Definitely give me feedback if you can! I prefer comments like “omg best writer ever!” and “Ernest Hemingway reincarnated as a woman.” If you HAVE to be constructive, please let my ego down easily.

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I was going to run in 2020 as a surprise candidate, but Kanye beat me to it. I wish I could buy you all pumpkin spice lattes and Ugg boots. To be continued…

Strangers with Pamphlets

I have waited my entire life for a Mormon to knock on my door and hand me a pamphlet. I’ve heard countless stories about this happening to other people and always felt left out and neglected, inevitably causing my abandonment issues. I just want to hear the spiel – that’s it. Sure, I have a lot of burning questions I’d like to ask and I’d want to keep them at my door step longer than necessary, but I mainly just want to hear what they have to say and be invited into their club.

I spent three hours this morning preparing for a run and convincing myself it was a good idea. This is always a long and tedious process. I was in the middle of sitting on my couch perusing the Internet to find the perfect pair of eye shades when my door bell rang. I got up and looked into the mini hole in the door. My heart skipped a beat with excitement and my hangover immediately disappeared. My big day had finally arrived – it appeared that there was a Mormon man at my door.

I opened the door and tried to hide my excitement. Even though I knew he was going to ask me to be in his club, I would pretend to be surprised. After he asked, I would give the same speech I say in the shower when I’m accepting my Emmy.

He had a pamphlet in his hand and handed me one.

WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW THE TRUTH?”

This was the pamphlets opening line. Aggressive. But ok yes, I would like to know the truth. I opened the pamphlet and the man asked me if I had ever wondered about any of the questions. My excitement dissipated as soon as I realized this was not a Mormon packet. He was a Jehova’s Witness.

Photo by giphy.com

Gif by Giphy

I indulged the man in conversation even though this was not the club I wanted to be apart of. He told me to pick a question on the pamphlet that I had wondered about. I chose: “What happens to us when we die?” I’m not very religious despite going to Catholic school for nearly half my life, but I had always held onto some hope that good shit would happen to me after I kicked the bucket. Perhaps an alternate universe where Oreos would make me skinny and Channing Tatum was obsessing over ME, rather than the other way around.

The man ignored the fact that he was in a college neighborhood and that there was a high probability of me being a college student. He proceeded to read me the answer on the pamphlet that I had in my hands. He read:

At death, humans cease to exist…”

I figured.

The dead…are conscious of nothing at all,” states Ecclesiastes 9:5. Since the dead cannot know, feel or experience anything, they cannot harm or help the living. -Psalm 146:3,4. “

What. This man is not only not a mormon like I wanted him to be, he’s calmly explaining to me that there will be no Channing Tatum and Oreos when I die. In fact, there will literally be nothing. He doesn’t seem rattled by this idea at all as I press him with questions like, “But are you sure?” and “Really?”

Gif by rebloggy.com

Gif by Rebloggy

After reading this section to me, I realize he’s trying to leave me. I linger at the door a little longer, but to my disappointment, he does not ask me to be apart of his club either. It felt like a bad breakup and suddenly I needed ice cream and tissues.

“NO! I will not let them do this to me,” I thought. “I’m too good for them!” I went on a run (that’s an extreme overstatement. I jogged a 12 minute mile) to make myself feel better.

As I was approaching my house on the way back, a miracle happened. The man with the pamphlets was walking toward me. As soon as he recognized me, he turned around and tried to walk back the other way. I heard his internal dialogue from a mile away:

Oh crap. This is so awkward. I just wanted to go back to my car. I wonder if she recognizes me. Of course she does. I should’ve just invited her to our club. She seems so cool and has great hair.”

Gif by picslist.com

Gif by Pics List

I considered running up to him and asking why he didn’t ask me to join, but decided to let him walk the wrong way. For now, I’ll continue to fantasize about an after life where people carry me everywhere and beg me to be in their clubs.

 

Becoming President Is Like Really Easy

Since Donald Trump was all “I’m running for President,” and it didn’t turn out to be a joke like I had originally thought, I decided I needed to see what the application process is like when you run for President of the United States.

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Photo by Daily News

Since I happen to be a champion googler (is that really not considered a word yet?) in two states, I found what I was looking for with ease. I googled phrases like:

How to become president of the United States

Can you run for President if you have a record

If you win the whole president thing, can you paint the white house a different color?

If you become president, do they give you a chef?

Does someone bring you breakfast in bed?

Do you get to do the grocery shopping or does someone do that for you? I prefer to grocery shop on my own.

How many bathrooms do you get?”

As you can see, I got a little off topic from what I was originally researching, but I consider all of these top notch, significant questions. On my google magic carpet ride through the inter-web, I discovered a wikihow (complete with photos) regarding how to become President. I also read the SparkNotes version and briefly reminisced about how the site got me through AP English in high school. So here’s the gist of it:

1) Be a natural born citizen.

As long as your mother birthed you in America, you’re good to go. Say thank you to your mom for birthing you. That shit’s painful and messy.

2) Be at least 35 years old.

Realistically, I’ll never be an actual adult, but if I ever were to morph into one, it would probably be at around age 35, so this rule makes sense. I feel like 35 years old is the age when you remember to buy toilet paper BEFORE you run out.

3) Live in the US for at least 14 consecutive years before running.

14 is an odd number and I’m not sure why that’s the rule. I picture a bunch of congress people picking different numbers out of Uncle Sam’s large hat at random.

Photo by funnyordie.com

Photo by Funny or Die

There you have it folks. The criteria is pretty straightforward, granted I’m sure you have to do a lot of other political shit before you run. I was expecting a lengthier list with requirements like: must have wrinkles, must be able to buy toilet paper on time or must be able to distinguish your and you’re. I assume the position can only be filled by humans although it’s not clearly stated in the wikihow. I chose not to run for President because I like keeping my weekends free and I don’t want my hair color to change so dramatically.