Category Archives: life lessons

Moving Home

cute couple

Today I bring you a guest post from a lovely blogger I met via the Bloggers In Sin City conference. Her name is Jenna Britton and she’s generally awesome. Enjoy!:

I moved home to Los Angeles from San Francisco in May 2009 and it felt a bit like failure.

I was still smarting from the pain of a nasty and recent breakup just months earlier, and days upon moving home I found out that my former love had already married (yes, MARRIED) someone else.

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Vegas life lessons.

las vegas sign

I didn't even realize there was a bride and groom behind me. Who photo bombed who?

I love Las Vegas. If I could go there every other week I would. This was my second year at the Bloggers In Sin City conference. The first one changed my life in that it was something I would never do: get on a plane to meet a bunch of strangers and share a room with one of them and hang out with them for three days. This time I knew more of what to expect. I even had the same roommate (Kelly! Here’s her blog).

And this time, I learned a lot more. About myself. About people. About life. Here are my lessons. I hope we can all learn something.

There is so such thing as a 24 hour buffet. This is true not in only the literal sense; that as much as Vegas loves its buffets, it doesn’t have one that is open all the time. And thanks to the concierge for scoffing at us for asking. Sir you work in Vegas, and this is the question that throws you? But the life buffet is also not open 24 hours. When you have a delicious buffet, you need to savor every moment and get seconds, if not thirds. There is so much to try. Don’t focus on only one item. And when it inevitably ends, have something to look forward to. Except when you die, then it’s kind of over. Unless you believe in the afterlife in which case, have fun talking to John Edward on his loser show.  Continue reading

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Things about living with a MAN.

bachelorettes

Above: Laura prepping her boyfriend for a video we made for Hello Giggles, which you can watch here, but keep in mind it’s a satire about girls and their PERIODS. 

This post is brought to you by Laura Kadner. Enjoy:

 

Once upon a time, I lived with my boyfriend. We moved to the worst city in the world and got a tiny studio apartment. Sometimes it was awesome and sometimes it sucked. Here are some things I learned about living with a man:

1.) Try to get an apartment with at least two rooms. In my cohabitational experience, we lived in a studio apartment. Sometimes it’s nice to be able to go in one’s own space. In a studio apartment when you get in a fight or someone’s trying to work, you’re basically trapped.

 
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Never complain, never explain.

 black cat

 This quote “never complain never explain” was attributed to Katherine Hepburn. I don’t know if she actually said it because I wasn’t there. I was super, super not there. But I am trying to make this my new motto. Not complaining is, for me, harder than not explaining. As women I think we feel the need to apologize for ourselves, which I’ve written about here. We also feel the need to explain ourselves a lot, which men typically don’t do. But I’m working on it. I want all of us — man, woman, E.T. — to work on this.

Example: you’re sick and cannot come into work.

DON’T:

“I’m so sorry but I have the flu and it’s giving me mad diarrhea and I can’t stop vomiting and I just can’t come in today, I am so so so sorry, please understand, I can’t move, I’m really sorry I hope you guys are okay!”

ALSO DON’T:

“I’m not coming in today, deal with it, bros.”

DO:

“Hi. I’m ill today with the flu and will not be coming in. Let me know if you’d like a doctor’s note. Thanks.”

 

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On giving up drinking and complaining.

cocktail

R.I.P fun.

I have decided to give up drinking. Not forever, that’s hilarious! But for the month of April I am going to abstain from my favorite hobby. I wanted to announce this yesterday but I figured people would think it was an April Fools’ joke. I am going to stop drinking this month because I’ve had some health issues lately and I have to get real: if I don’t give up alcohol I’ll never know if I would feel better without it.

I’ve been under so much stress lately and I think it would be good for my soul and my head if I complained less. If you’re already stressed and you complain about everything, “you’re gonna have a bad time” (South Park ski instructor.) I’m not ashamed to admit that within the past two months or so, I have developed a single gray hair. I’ve named him Eric. No reason. My boyfriend, knowing how vain I am, asked me why I didn’t get rid of it. I’m keeping the single strand of gray in my bangs as a reminder that I need to calm down, slow down, and treat myself better. I’m also wondering if I should face my fear of getting old and dye my entire head a silvery gray or white. Just to get over it. And dye it back again. I probably won’t. But I need to give less of a fuck about things that don’t matter. Because I am literally making myself sick. And gray. And it’s exhausting.

To all my martinis, margaritas, gimlets and gibsons, see you next month!

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Don’t look back in anger.

Almie Rose with JFK and JackieAIN’T NO THANG, JACKIE.

Summer is coming. It always does. And every time it comes I am horrified because I feel I’m never ~~bathing suit ready~~. And every year I say to myself, “Fuck you summer, you will not best me, I have a yoga mat.” And every year it bests me. Except.

Last May I went to Bloggers in Sin City, a conference for bloggers (shut up) that changed my life. I’m not one to join a big group of people I don’t know and have never met. But my mom said, “You have to do this” and I thought to myself, bitch please who acts like they have to be dragged to Las Vegas for a weekend? I am so glad I went.

I wrote a post about how I was freaking out about being seen in a bathing suit, because pool lounging was imminent. But when I got there I saw that everyone was in the pool and having fun and simply did not give a single fuck and it made me want to have fun too and also not give any fucks, not even half of a fuck. So I put on my lady swimming trunks (too afraid to go full bikini) and finally got in the pool.

Today I was looking back at the photos from that trip and fuck, I WAS SKINNY. I WAS SKINNY AND I DIDN’T EVEN REALIZE IT BECAUSE I WAS TOO BUSY BEING AN IDIOT. That’s just so typical, isn’t it? To think you’re fat and then look back and say, “I wish I were as ‘fat’ now as I was then.” To quote Nora Ephron (or what I remember of what she said), “If I knew now what I knew then I would tell myself to wear a bikini throughout all of my twenties.” And the thing is, unless it’s killing you, there is nothing wrong with being fat. It’s all about your attitude. And your mind. And my mind is poisoned.

(Even now I’m looking at that photo of me with wax JFK and I’m thinking, “I know my arm is skinnier than that, why does it look so big?”)

So the thing is now, I am sad because I have actual legit stomach issues and it is never flat. Not bikini ready. On Sunday at 5:30 AM I woke up to run to the toilet to throw up. And it came out of my nose as well and I almost choked to death and died. And I realized, “I should definitely get this checked out. I should take better care of myself. I should eat well all the time, and not succumb to comfort foods.” Like just now I ate 6 milano cookies and realized it was 420 calories. That’s like a meal. And it wasn’t worth it at all. Ain’t that some shit? Yeah, so my body is legit fucked up, it’s not just in my mind anymore. My stomach hurts frequently (once I had to sit under my desk and rock myself back and forth) and I have to dress like a pregnant woman so that nothing constricts my mid section. Is this not the most sexy fucking thing you’ve ever read on my blog?

My point is this: ladies and lads, you get more awesome every day. If you don’t like yourself today, then like yourself tomorrow. The only person that you have to look like is you. There is no size or weight that you have to be. You do not need to lose weight. That is a myth. What you need is to be happy and confident. If more women were happy and confident with their bodies then maybe we wouldn’t have to photoshop the fuck out of everything.

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Whatever happened to the teenage dream?

justin bieber wrapping paper

I mean this is what instagram was made for, right?

Why did I hate being a teenager so much? Being a teenager is awesome. Nothing you do matters. Nothing. Teenagers, I’m not trying to put you down; on the contrary. I’m trying to empower you. Don’t you realize how awesome it is when nothing you do matters? You can do anything. Anything! Go to school, don’t fuck up your grades, and then do whatever the hell you want. Stay out late on a school night. Wear something stupid. Be ignorant. Don’t try to be an adult. Being an adult kind of sucks, I’m gonna be real. There are a lot of great things about my life, like I get to legally drink (even though I still get carded which is both flattering and extremely embarrassing), I don’t have to tell my parents what I’m doing all the time, and I can basically say, “Fuck this shit, I’m an adult!”

Now here are the downsides: as an adult, drinking takes a harder toll on my body, I actually miss my parents telling me what to do because now I have to make those decisions for myself, and if I say, “Fuck this shit, I’m an adult!” I have to deal with the consequences, good or bad. And guys, my knees hurt. I’m in my twenties, not even my late twenties, and my fucking knees hurt after a workout. Which reminds me, does anyone have a good workout DVD/whatever other than The 30 Day Shred? Because The Shred works but it kills my knees every time. And as vain as I am, I don’t think it’s worth it. So yeah, your stupid knees hurt and you have to find a job and keep it because you have to pay for boring shit like bills, and sometimes you cry in the corner of the shower thinking, “LOLOLOLOL” in your brain. Because being an adult can be absurd.

I didn’t appreciate being a teenager because as a teenager I felt ugly, hated that I looked so young, and wished I didn’t have to go to school. Those were my problems. Those aren’t problems. Those are, “Shut up you’re not ugly, one day you will LOVE being told you look young, and get your shitty body to school you idiot it’s a lot easier than real life.”

Teenagers: have some fucking fun. I mean it. If not for you, then for Uncle Almie.

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