Picking a roommate is a very serious decision, if you’re lucky enough to be in the driver’s seat. Living with other people is not easy. Given how ill-tempered and OCD we can be, matching personalities is a fine art, if not an extinct art. When I coerced my best friend from back home on the east coast to move out and replace my old roommate, who ditched me for Australia on a wild whim in a matter of months, I thought I had won the lottery. I’m not saying I haven’t–we get along just great. It’s awesome to be able to live with your best friend. But sometimes you overlook the cultural differences that aren’t apparent when you don’t live with someone. Now that I’m living full-time with my Puerto Rican nugget, I get to soak in a completely new way of living. This is what happens when you move in with a latina:
Pardon the rainbow invasion. Today is the day the gay community celebrates leaping that dreaded hurdle and pronouncing their gayness for everyone to hear. For some it’s easy, for others… finding a resolution for the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict would be easier. Regardless of the journey, we’ve all made it, and it kind of feels like winning gold at the Olympics. It goes a little something like this:
You start out all young and innocent. Yay.
And then this happens.
And you’re like, “WTF I’m 10!”
Then these really weird feels start.
But–But–you’re a BOY.
Maybe it’s just a phase?
Goddammit! That smile! The feels.
And your internal struggle begins.
But you know. You know.
And sadly, those idiots at school know too.
Eventually, you just get over it.
Wait! But my family doesn’t know!
HELP! HELP! HELP!
And no matter how many times you try, you bail.
Then you get a bit dramatic. Shocker.
Until you just give zero fucks and go for it.
Not to mention your confidence, which then just gets insane.
And the birth of such sass.
Let’s face it: Oprah runs this Earth. For all that she does, I want to wish her the best on her big day. Since 60 is the new 20, I have thought of 20 reasons why we love her.
1. She has the power to single-handedly select the President of the United States/Leader of the Free World:
2. She stands up to domestic violence.
3. And gives it right back.
4. We all rely on her to get us through our Plebeian lives.
5. She secretly wants to be Beyonce too, like the rest of us.
6. She’s both hood
7. And classy.
8. She had a cameo in “The Lion King.”
9. She deals with basic bitches with elegance.
10. She’s subtle.
11. She is very persuasive.
12. She gives away free stuff.
13. She fangirls over One Direction too. (If she could time travel).
14. She’s not impressed.
15. She’s fabulous.
16. She has the ability to make you do this:
17. She’s a boss.
18. She gives a lot to charity, because with 7 or 8 homes, $3 billion and a private jet, she can.
19. But at least she earned it.
20. And last but not least, she’s beautiful.
The world can be overwhelming. We all get stressed out. It happens. All of us handle these pressures in our own, unique ways.
Some start to ugly white girl cry:
Some cooly accept the fate of shortly turning into an utter psychopath:
Some become alcoholics:
And some become violent:
I, however, handle it differently–for the most part. I have broken a stapler in a sheer fit of rage before. Not my best day.
Yes, those are MY colorings, MY coloring book that I bought at Target a month ago and MY 96 pack of mutha fucking Crayola crayons. I always have a coloring book and crayons wherever I am. It all started in the days when I was still watching “Barney” wrapped up in my Power Rangers sleeping bag sitting in a laundry basket. Those were the days…. My mom and step-aunt would always color with me. We would then sign, date, and give them to each other, well obvz they gave theirs to me and I gifted mine to myself as well. Anyway, it just stuck. I know I’m a grown-ass man, but let me see you try and pry these crayons from my cold, dead hands.
Go out and buy coloring supplies and let all your worries drift away like Kris Humphries’ fame.
Let me get a coffee to keep me awake during class.
The line is so long.
It’s OK. I have time…But why is this barista SO slow?!
I’m feeling a little better now. Coffee!
Wait, all of the high tables are taken:
Just stay calm. Calm down.
Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. It’s not the end of the world, right? This is so a first world problem. Let’s problem solve, we’re in grad school. Maybe a low table?
Wait…they’re all taken too. Well, there is one spot open, but the other 3 just look mean.
Starting to panic. I’ve walked back and forth like 5 times now. People are starting to notice how awkward I look. It’s sad. Starting to feel a bit emotional
But like, WHY aren’t there any seats? Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts.
Here she comes. My inner demon is breaking the hell out.
And now my group MMS for 505 is blowing up. I don’t have time right now! Stop buzzing!
And now whatsherface just walked by and waved.
I’m about to go 50 shades of crazy.
Hold up a second. I don’t need to sit with these people.
I’m going to go sit under a tree and enjoy the Earth and this beautiful SoCal weather. I am blessed.
Shit! I didn’t do my broadcast script.
My print class is teaching me how to do wonderful things.
Peace and love people.