20 Ways To Trick People Into Thinking You’re Smart…

Frenchy: Hey, Marty, are those new glasses? Marty: Oh yeah, I just got them for school. Don't you think they make me look smarter? Rizzo: Nah, you can still see your face. down your bra?

Frenchy: Hey, Marty, are those new glasses?
Marty: Oh yeah, I just got them for school. Don’t you think they make me look smarter?
Rizzo: Nah, you can still see your face.

1.  Attend art galleries, and act deeply moved when you’re staring face to face with a giant painting of nothing but a big black dot.

2.  Say ‘palate’ whenever referring to your taste in food.

3.  Wear black framed, non-prescription ‘nerd’ glasses.

4.  Live in Brooklyn.

5.  Repeat ideas smart people have said in your presence and pretend that they’re your own.

6.  Use words like, actually, literally, honestly, and personally, at the start of most sentences.

7.  If you watch any reality television, You. Must. Not. Admit. This. EVER.

8.  Tell people your favorite television shows are Homeland, any HBO show (other than True Blood), Downton Abbey, or Breaking Bad.

9.  If you have nothing intelligent to contribute to Facebook, Twitter, etc., at the very least, use these correctly: there, they’re, their, your, you’re, we’re, were, then, than.

10.  Pretend you’re really up on politics, but only read the headlines.

11. Tell people your favorite movies are foreign films, and then name drop at least three titles.  Extra points if you pronounce them correctly.

12.  Hang out at any coffee shop except Starbucks, and preferably one that sells crappy coffee that costs twice as much as the chains.

13.  Shop at independent bookstores, and scour the historical fiction section (hopefully while wearing your black framed nerd glasses.)

14.  Tell people you studied abroad.

15.  Tell people you’ve read lots of books, and name-drop titles like The Importance of Being Earnest, Ulysses, A Tale of Two Cities, The Odyssey, The Old Man and the Sea, etc.

16.  Talk about Freud and drop at least one of his theories into conversation at a dinner party.

17.  Say you love every Woody Allen movie whenever given the chance.

18.  Use the word ‘juxtaposed’ in a sentence correctly.

19.  Use words like layered, texture, ripe, raw and supple when describing music.  Bonus points if you can use any of those words to describe Bon Iver’s music.

20.  When drinking red wine with friends, first refer to the taste as full-bodied and complex, then once you really have their attention, talk about how you love the hints of oak and cedar wood.

~The End.

Pictures courtesy of IMDB

About these ads

It’s Just How It Is (according to me)…

Everyone is dazzled by a French accent.  It’s just how it is.

Just ask Brigitte Bardot.

If you don’t believe me, just ask Brigitte Bardot.

You may find yourself appreciating things like stewed meat, beets, capers, meatloaf, fiber supplements, etc. after reaching the age of 30.  It’s just how it is.

If someone had told me 10 years ago that I would willfully eat a beet salad I would've said you'd gone cray cray.

If someone had told me 10 years ago that I would willfully eat a beet salad I would’ve said you’d gone cray cray.

Most people think they’re smarter, more talented, better looking, funnier, etc. than they actually are.  It’s just how it is.

Said most people.

Unfortunately said by most people.  If you disagree, you’re probably one of ‘em.  Sorry to break it to ya.

Cancer really, really sucks.  It’s just how it is.

Everyone already knows it.

Enough said.

One day you might realize that Hall and Oats is a highly underrated band that makes you want to bust a groove.  You might come to this conclusion at a wedding reception when the band is playing Rich Girl, or maybe it might occur to you while listening to the radio in your car, but it will most definitely not happen until after the age of at least 25.  It’s just how it is.

Hall and Oats

Love the handlebar mustache.

Listen here to:  Rich Girl

Mixed tapes are highly underrated.  It’s just how it is.

Screen shot 2013-03-30 at 6.13.41 PM

Charlie from Perks of Being a Wallflower would back me up on this (if he were a real, living human being.)

Taylor Swift dates too many dudes and writes too many songs about them.  It’s just how it is.

I'm not hating, though, Tay-Tay.  I still heart your music very much.

I’m not hating, though, Tay-Tay. I still heart your music very much.

Everyone has a mirror face and it’s awkward for everyone else witnessing it, except for the person making the mirror face.  It’s just how it is.

Kim K. is a perfect example.  Naturally.

Kim K. is naturally a perfect example.

Detroit (my hometown) is so much cooler than anyone gives it credit for.  It’s just how it is.

The D

Period.

Teenage drama is and will always be the worst kind of drama no matter how old you get.  It’s just how it is.

See what I mean?

See what I mean?

The accordion is an extremely annoying instrument that is not at all pleasing to the ear. It’s just how it is.

Sorry all you accordion lovers...

Sorry all you accordion lovers…

Everybody wants to rule the world.  It’s just how it is.

Right?  Right.

Right? Right.

Every girl born in the 80′s tried to form their own Babysitters Club when they were a tween.  It’s just it is (or was).

How it all began...

You know you all did it.

No one really knows who coined the term “catfish” or what it has to do with being a scumbag online.  It’s just how it is.

He's looking at you, Mante Teo.

He’s looking at you, Manti Te’o.

~The End

Photos by http://solo-vintage.tumblr.com/post/30864230906/hoodoothatvoodoo-brigitte-bardot-photo-by, http://tastefoodblog.com/2011/06/26/roasted-beets-with-feta-mint-and-pistachios/, http://awakeningcounseling.com/blog_01/hello-world/, http://www.discogs.com/viewimages?release=1790330, http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/one%20winter, http://www.hollyscoop.com/taylor-swift/complete-guide-taylor-swifts-boyfriends.html, http://weheartit.com/entry/35517184/via/joy_sandra#, http://detroitlives.org/2011/01/14/friday-photo-run-long-live-detroit/, http://i.imgur.com/s7aMEw8.png, http://media-cache-is0.pinimg.com/originals/47/12/22/471222d7b0bcd02fda31b5c90d5ca3e6.jpg, www.monsterpop.com.br

Phil Dunphy for President, Yo.

I have a confession.  I love Phil Dunphy.  Don’t worry, my husband doesn’t mind.

 

Such words of wisdom, Phil!

So, there are Jerry Seinfeld’s (eh, pretty funny), there are Larry David’s (um, ridiculously funny), there are Ray Romano’s (definitely a good time), and there are Al Bundy’s (hey, he had his moments), but no one and I mean no one is funnier than Phil Dunphy.

I’ve always had a quirky sense of humor, and I don’t usually find the conventional stuff, knee-slapping hilarious the way a lot of people do.  I need originality, I need ridiculous, I need absurd, I need you to cross the line, and then I need you to cross it again and again.

I love to laugh, but to be honest, it’s not that easy to make me lose it.  I’ve been known to sit in on many a Will Farrel movie and not so much as crack a smile.  But Phil.  Well, there’s just something about him that makes me laugh until I pee (not literally, but well, you know what I mean).

You know what?  Rather than tell you, why don’t I show you?

I think what’s so awesome about the actor who plays Phil Dunphy (Ty Burrell) is that in his Emmy speech for Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Comedy, he alluded to being a struggling actor prior to Modern Family.  He had been in the business for years doing odds and end roles, but not gaining much recognition.  Landing a part on a hit sitcom for your first big break?  Not too bad.

I was late to hop on the bandwagon of Modern Family.  This semester at school I’m taking a sitcom writing course where we study Modern Family episodes, and then for a final project we’ll write one of our own.  I had never seen the show before, and I have to admit, when my teacher announced that it was the only show we’d be studying, I had my doubts.  I felt like all the good stuff had already been done.  I was wrong, and immediately realized that after watching the pilot episode.  Somehow week after week the writers come up with new ideas that highlight each of its hilarious cast members.

Really, what I’m trying to say is that if you don’t have this show in your life, than your missing out big time.

On a side note, Phil Dunphy was the only thing that got me through this recent President election.  While the Facebook feuds were blazing, I chose to take a neutral standpoint and simply say: Phil Dunphy for President, yo.  If Phil was Pres he’d definitely make us laugh, and I think we could all use more of that.

~The End

Photo from ABC.com

An Open Message to the Guy Who Lives Above Us…

Dear Guy Who Lives Above Us,

You don’t know me, but I live in the apartment below you.  I probably know you better than you think.  I know about the atrocious sleep schedule you keep, I know that you don’t work very much if at all, I know that you like to move furniture around at all times of the day and night, I know that you like Good Morning America (I can hear you watching it every morning), I know that you sometimes dance all by yourself (mostly late at night), I know that you have very, very loud and obnoxious friends, and I know that you enjoy Wyclef Jean.  Cool.  So do I.  Particularly, I love his rendition of “No Woman, No Cry.”  Here’s the thing though, Guy Who Lives Above Us, I don’t really enjoy Wyclef Jean at three in the morning…on a Sunday.

It’s not like you don’t know that you’re noisy.  Multiple neighbors have filed complaints about you, including the elderly woman who lives above you. Then, the night when Hurricane Sandy hit New York, you really outdid yourself.  You had a party that lasted all day and all night.  Some part of you decided it was a grand idea to have this massive party at your place in Brooklyn.  You must have said, “Hey guys!  Party at my digs!  My neighbors won’t mind!!!”  Just curious, what made you think that was a good idea?

Maybe you thought that it didn’t matter, because most of New York was shut down and didn’t have to work.  I get it.  I didn’t have to work, but guess what?  Other people did have to work, including my husband.  Yes, he still had to report to the hospital by 7 AM, even though your party didn’t stop until 5 AM.  And by that time, he was already up for work.

Not cool, Guy Who Lives Above Us, not cool.

I’m not really sure where we go from here, but I’m just going to put this out there:  The next time I get the urge to sing Lisa Loeb’s “Stay” or “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” by Taylor Swift at the top of my lungs, I’m going to do it.  Yeah, I just may belt one of those suckers out, and make you listen to me.  Then again, I may sing a song with notes I can’t hit, notes that make me screech, and make you listen to me try.

So there.

The moral of this story, Guy Who Lives Above Us, is that sometimes your poor decisions make me go…

Seriously.

We’re pretty nice people (The People Who Live in the Apartment Downstairs), and hey, we’re just trying to get some sleep.  So, can you please just shut the f*ck up.  Please?

Thanks.

Sincerely,

The Girl in the Apartment Downstairs

P.S. Does anyone else have noisy neighbors?

~The End

Photo by Anne Taintor

How To Find Out If You Still ‘Got It’…

The title of this post might be slightly misleading.  Don’t let it fool you.  This isn’t much of a how-to guide at all, but rather my own personal story.  I hope you find it funny…

It all started one random Tuesday morning.  I showered, ate breakfast, and dressed for work.  I put on my black skinny jeans, black high-top Converse sneakers, a crew neck cream-colored sweater, and rhinestone button earrings.  Once I was ready, I grabbed my Kindle, and rushed out the door to get to the subway.

After a few stops, I settled into a seat on the train and began to read.  Not long after, a group of high schooler’s, all of them clad in plaid uniforms, hopped on the train, and began to converse loudly.  I tried my best to read, but the kids’ voices were boisterous and distracting.  Soon the lady sitting next to me got up and moved, and in her place, a gangly, freckled-faced boy with wavy brown hair sat down.  He was no more than fifteen or sixteen tops.  I continued to read (The Perks of Being a Wallflower) and I felt as though he was reading over my shoulder (I really hate when people do that, by the way.)  I ignored it, but after some time he quietly uttered, “Hey,” under his breath.

At first I assumed he wasn’t talking to me, so I continued to read (I was at the part where Sam stands up in the car while listening to Landslide by Fleetwood Mac.)

“Hey,” he said again, this time louder.

I raised my eyebrows and looked at him.  “Hi,” I said.

“What are you reading?”

“The Perks of being a Wallflower.”  And with that, I went back to reading.  (By this time Charlie was talking about Aunt Helen.)

“What school do you go to?”

I took note of his penny loafers, navy blue stock, uniform pants, and tried not to laugh.  This kid thinks I’m in high school?  I asked myself.  Wait.  This kid thinks I’m in high school.  Awesome.  I thought.

“What school do you go to?” he asked again.  “Saint Ann’s?”

I considered letting it go on, but he was so sincere that I felt a little bad.  “No, I go to college actually…and I’m 29…almost 30…and married.”

“You are not.”

“Yes,” I insisted.  “I’m afraid I am.”

“No, you’re not.  C’mon what school do you go to?  I’m not gonna stalk you or anything.”

“I’m serious.”  I showed him my ring to prove it.  “See,” I said.  “I can show you my driver’s license, too, if you want.”

“No, that’s ok,” he said, convinced now.  He stood up, and flung his backpack over one shoulder.  “Nice meeting you…,” he mumbled.

A few minutes later it was time for me to get off the train.  As I walked to work, I couldn’t help but laugh.  I looked down at my Converse shoes, and realized that maybe I was dressed kind of young.  I mean, I am young, but not sixteen.  Still, it made me smile, and inspired me to promptly put a status update on Facebook.

In other news, my dad has edited my name in his phone-book to “Mrs. Robinson.”

And that my friends is the story of how I found out- I still got it.

~The End.

The Woes of Being a Short Person…

This past weekend I went to a concert with my very tall friend, Reagan.  We went to see Morrissey at Terminal 5 in NYC.  One of the reasons I was so excited about this concert was that it was a small venue and standing room only, which meant a great view and an opportunity to get close to the stage.  So, why is Reagan’s height significant to this story you ask?  It’s simple.  She could see and I could not, because well, I’m short.

Sure the music was great, and Morrissey can still sing like he did in the 80′s, but I might as well have been listening to him on my iPod, because I couldn’t see a thing.  Nada.  Not even a little bit.  You know what I think is funny?  (You short people will hopefully identify, and appreciate this) All of the tallest men in the whole damn joint were somehow strategically placed in front of me!  Why, Why, Why does that always happen?

Throughout the concert, I became accustomed to watching other people’s faces around me for their reactions, because I couldn’t see anything myself.  Occasionally the crowd would “Ooooh” or “Ahhhhh” and I just had to assume something really cool was happening.  The most exciting part of the concert was when Morrissey sang the lyrics, “Close your eyes and think of someone you physically admire,” in his Bri-ish accent and followed it up with ripping his shirt off like He-Man.  The only reason I know this happened was because my tall friend who could see, turned to me and squealed, “Oh my God, Sar, he just ripped his shirt off!  That was crazy!”  I had to judge by her reaction of shock, then laughter, and then glee that she was thoroughly entertained by his antics, and that it was the highlight of her experience.  However, I did not see any of it.

At one point I blindly held my camera up in the air, set the zoom mode all the way up, and took a pretty decent picture.  In fact, I didn’t realize how good it was until I got home and saw for myself.  Geez, the lengths short people have to go to, to see what’s going on!

Not bad, huh? What can I say, I make the best of my circumstances.

On a side note, I left with a cool souvenir.  I bought myself a t-shirt with Morrissey in a barber’s chair, getting that signature ‘do of his.  How fitting for my profession!  Although I didn’t buy one, they were also selling tote bags that said “Shoplifters of the World Unite.”  Ha!  I thought that was quite cheeky and clever (forgive me for the British slang, but I’m going with a theme here…)

If I learned anything from this experience it’s that next time I go to see one of my favorite artists live, I will invest in some really, really good seats or skip the “standing room only” shenanigans all together, because it was kind of the pits.

Can any of you short people out there identify with this?

~The End

Words With Trends.

***WARNING*** 

This post is a rant.

I have a confession.  Sometimes I get really, really annoyed with my generation.  I don’t mean to be a traitor or anything, but I can’t help myself.  In my daily life, as well as the internet on sites like Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest, I see the same trendy fads and phrases popping up nearly everywhere.  It’s like one day they’re not there, and then POOF, they’re EVERYWHERE.

So, I have to get this off of my chest…

I bring you…

My Top 5 Most Loathed Words With Trends:

1. Swag

As in, “He’s got killer swag.”

Oh, “swag”, I loathe you most of all.

Swag, swag, swag…Before ‘swag’ I never knew that I was capable of loathing a word so much.  I don’t know what it means, and to be honest with you, I really don’t care.  All that I really know is that I cringe every time someone uses it in reference to a virtue, and if I never heard the word muttered from any other human beings lips for the rest of my life, I would be a very happy girl.

2. Fingerstaches

Can we stop this? Please?

Can we talk about fingerstaches for a second?  I’d honestly like to know why, when, and where this mustache fetish started?  Not only is the term for this horrendous trend ridiculous, but I find the whole “let me hold up my finger with a fake mustache drawn on it” really sort of dumb.  I have actually seen people with a tattoo of this absurd fad, and I can’t help but think, “C’mon, seriously?!”  I mean, I get it, it was funny for about two seconds…wait, no it wasn’t.  It was never funny.  Ever.  So, can we all resolve to stop this mayhem?

3. Awesome Sauce

As in, “Dinner was totally awesome sauce!”

I’m cringing just reading this.

Oh…’awesome sauce,’ I really don’t like you.  This is one that didn’t bother me much in the beginning, but then I started hearing it, and then I started hearing it some more, and then I started hearing it so much, in reference to so many people, places, and things, that it made me want to rip my hair out.  Why can’t something just simply be awesome?  Try it.  It feels good to say something is just plain awesome.  It’s sincere.  It’s effective.  If I had the choice, I’d never hear ‘awesome sauce’ again, unless of course, it was in reference to a sauce that was actually awesome, like Frank’s RedHot, then it would be entirely acceptable.

4. Adorkable

As in, “She’s so super adorkable.”

The gal who inspired the craze.

I admire Zooey Deschanel.  She’s quirky, whimsical, and she’s also really, really smart.  She has marketed herself as the cute-dress wearing, 60′s inspired, unique actress who stars in the coolest independent films.  Plus, she has really great bangs, but that’s not the point.  The fact is, there is no other actress out there like her, and she did a great job at setting herself apart.  Genius.  You want to know what’s not genius?  The dumb stigma that someone labeled her with- “Adorkable.”  Yes, she is adorable, and she might even be a bit of a dork in her free time, but can we just call her what she really is?  A very smart business woman.

5. (Insert adjective and select a gender here) problems.

As in, “Being too short to see out of the peephole of your front door = Short girl problems.” (By the way, that happened to me.)

I blame you, Jersey Shore.

So, it all started with Jersey Shore, as most annoying sayings do.  Pauly D referred to Snookie and Co. as having “meatball problems” when bad fortune started to come their way.  That was it.  A mania was born.  Suddenly you couldn’t go on Facebook without someone lamenting about their, “short girl problems,” or “tall guy problems,” or “nerd girl problems,” and so on and so forth.  Everyone wanted in on the action, and it became, well, exhausting.  So, I have to ask, can we just keep all of our whatever guy/girl problems to ourselves?  Please?

~The End.

Pictures by Ghettoredhot, Pinterest, shortgirlprbs.tumblr.com

My Ode to Snoop Dogg (if he should ever read this)…

What’s that you say, Snoop?

Dear Snoop D-O-Double G,

I want to hereby thank you for preparing me with the knowledge of knowing what to do in  situations that involve the 5-0 (aka the cops). You see, the other day I took ride to CVS to pick up a prescription for my husband.  After completing my purchase, I exited the store, got into my car, and proceeded to pull out of my parking spot.  However, as I was doing so, I glanced down at the prescription I had just bought, and started second-guessing whether I had picked up the right one.  So, what does any good wife do?  She texts her hubby to make sure, of course!  As I was texting, though, a police car suddenly pulled up beside me, and I started to freak.  I’m no dummy; I know it’s against the law to be texting and driving, but the thing was, I wasn’t technically driving, so I wasn’t sure what to do.

Snoop Dogg, just like an angel from above, I heard your voice say to me, “When the pigs try to get at ya- Park it like it’s hot/ Park it like it’s hot/ Park it like it’s hot,” and I calmly pulled back into my parking spot and turned the ignition off.

And can I just tell you, Snoop Dogg, you were so right.  The police officers looked into my car at me, and I was like, “What?” because I knew there was nothing they could do about it.  I was in a parked vehicle, and I wasn’t breaking the law.

So, I just wanted to say thank you for indirectly providing me with the tools I needed on that fateful day, because to be completely honest with you, I had no idea that a song I listened to on repeat in my beaten down Ford Tempo back in 2004, would be so influential on my life.

So, thank you, Snoop Dogg.

Your fan,

Sarah Palma

~The End

Photo by fanpop.com

I’m In A New York State Of Mind…

Have you ever noticed how many delusional people exist to this world?  I’ve always said that New York is a sort of Mecca for people with unrealistic expectations, and the kind of place where it’s okay to dream really big.  In fact, you can’t not be a dreamer and survive in New York.  Just think of the teeny, tiny apartments that cost thousands of dollars a month to live in, and all the inconveniences that go along with New York living; having multiple roommates so that you can cover rent, grocery stores that are miles away, five and six-story walk ups, schlepping heavy laundry for blocks in the dead of winter.  Why would anyone go through all this?  It’s simple.  Because there is no greater place to make big things happen in your life than New York City.  Period.  I guarantee every person you pass on a bustling, taxi-honking street has some sort of dream or expectation about being in New York.  Whether it’s to star in a Broadway show someday, become chief editor of the New York Times, hit it big in the corporate world, become a famous blogger, become a famous fashion designer, publish a best-selling novel, write a screenplay that will win you an Oscar, etc. etc…And I should know, because as you may have already guessed, a few of my biggest dreams were mixed in there.  You see, this massive fool’s paradise is probably why I love New York so much to begin with, because let’s face it, I’m a little delusional, too.

You’ve heard the old adage about New York:  “If I can make it there (insert robust drum beat here) I’ll make it anywhere.  It’s up to you, New York, New York.”

Obviously this guy made it in New York…just look at him.

Everyone has also heard the success stories about making it big in New York, but the one thing nobody ever seems to talk about, are the thousands of people who come here year after year who don’t make it.  They’re the people who New York eats up and spits out.  They’re the same people who once got goosebumps while listening to those Frank Sinatra lyrics, but can no longer bear to hear the song.  They are those that slowly fade into the distance or simply “go back home” eventually.

My pondering on the subject started last night on my subway ride home from work.  There was this early twenty-something-year-old girl sitting nearby on an extremely crowded, yet surprisingly quiet rush hour train.  Her friend was standing in front of her and they were sharing an iPod as they listened to music.  Suddenly at the top of her lungs she decided to act out an entire scene from what I presumed was Mary Poppin’s, complete with both male and female roles (including an astonishingly bad imitation of some sort of British accent.)  She totally got her wish; every person in the subway car stopped what they were doing to stare.  Her routine climaxed when she impersonated a crash, which highlighted her ability to do sound effects as well.  Her male friend, a seemingly sweet and quiet type, stood there looking slightly embarrassed by the spectacle, but remained supportive as he said, “That was amazing.”  She replied, “I know, acting out the scene in its entirety is part of the process I go through before a big audition.”

I really wish my story ended here, but unfortunately it didn’t.  When she was done with the show tune extravaganza, she moved on to Nicki Minaj, so that we all could see that she was a gal of many talents, including rapping.  She rapped the entire song of “Super Bass” and also sang the hook as loud and as tone-deaf as her voice could carry her.  All the while, her friend stood there, ear phone in one ear, trying his best to look carefree, even though his cheeks had turned a slight shade of pink from embarrassment.  She paid no attention and was thoroughly engrossed in her rap, when she suddenly stopped and stated the following: “I watch every interview I can find of Lady Gaga and Nicki Minaj, and do you wanna know what all of them have in common?

Girl’s Friend:  “What?”

Girl:  They both say that they like to impersonate characters every day of their lives, because it makes life more interesting, and because they love standing out.  Isn’t that just like me?

Girl’s Friend:  Totally.

Girl:  (smug) I guess that must mean I am going to be famous someday, too.

Girl’s Friend:  Yup.

Just as this conversation wrapped up, it was time for me to hop off the subway.  On my walk home I couldn’t help but envision all the rude awakenings that I was sure this girl was going to get, and I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for her, too.  I guess I could see some of my younger self in her…Untainted confidence, hopefulness, and even though she was extremely annoying to me after a long day at work, I could still admire something about her.  She believed in herself.  Wholeheartedly.  I had to give her credit for that.

Maybe not everyone makes it in New York, and maybe some people do eventually fade into the dust, but I guess everyone has to figure it out on their own.  Still, I hope someday I can say that I made it…really made it…in New York.

~The End.

Photos by Pinterest.

Seven Things That Are Underrated (if you ask me)…

1. A woman with a firm handshake

Totally boss.

I don’t know about you, but I appreciate a confident, firm handshake when shaking another woman’s hand.  Nothing is worse than going in for an assertive grip only to be met by a feeble handshake in return . Those limp hand shakes are for the birds, and leave me asking, “What woman started this wimpy habit?”  I think there is something so refreshing about a woman with some substance behind that palm.  To me, it says, “I’m a strong, capable, secure woman, and I’m not afraid to show it.”  C’mon ladies, men do it, so why don’t we?

2. Eating dinner alone

When I was younger I hated being alone.  I could easily spend days and nights completely consumed by hanging out with my friends.  In fact, the first day I met my friend Reagan, we ended up spending nearly a week together, going back and forth to each others apartments.  I still love my friends (and my husband), but I no longer mind eating dinner alone.  I could easily go sit by myself at a café or diner and be completely content there alone without anyone else to talk to.  I think with age you start to appreciate alone time more (at least I do), and those times where you can turn your brain off become highly underrated.

3. Comfortable Silence

Does anyone remember this scene in Pulp Fiction?

It goes something like this:

Mia: Don’t you hate that?

Vincent: What?

Mia: Uncomfortable silences. Why do we feel it’s necessary to yak about bulls*it in order to be comfortable?

Vincent: I don’t know. That’s a good question.

Mia: That’s when you know you’ve found somebody special. When you can just shut up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence.

P.S.  Isn’t that true?

4. Getting lost

I hate to sound cliché, but everything really does happen for a reason.  Sometimes it’s good to be lost, and sometimes it’s good to not have your life completely planned out.  Trust me, I learned this one the hard way.  I spent most of my early 20′s trying to control everything and everyone who walked into and out of my life.  Finally something clicked one day, and I realized that living my life this way made me miserable, so I decided to make a change.  One of the best times of my life was when I decided to stop looking at the big picture, just take each day at a time, and give myself permission to flounder…and do you want to know a secret?  I became happier, and something wonderful happened.  I met Matt, who eventually became my husband.  You might think something is right for you, whether it be a job, relationship, etc., but it might not be what is best for you.  If you refuse to let yourself be lost, than you never allow yourself to truly be found.

5. Handwritten letters sent in the mail

Snail mail is way underrated.

In a generation where we can connect with people all over the world in a matter of seconds, it’s almost impossible to not take advantage of the internet and email.  However, I think sending a good, old-fashioned letter or card in the mail is completely underrated.  Think about it.  What if you opened your mailbox today, and received a note from a friend telling you how much they missed you, instead of simply writing it on your Facebook wall.  How special would that make you feel?  Yep, pretty special.  That’s what I thought

6. Electric blankets

So genius.

The fact that I found this picture, where the model is trying her best to look super cool as she is luxuriously wrapped up in the electric blanket, is so funny to me.  So, I know we’re moving in on summer here, but I’ve got to tell you, electric blankets are totally underrated.  If you’ve ever slept in one, especially in the dead of winter, than you know exactly what I’m talking about.  It’s warm…it’s cozy…and it’s phenomenal…Enough said.

7. Diners, Drive-In’s and Dives

Best. Show. Ever.

I am seriously obsessed with this show, and think it’s the bomb.  Let me guess, you’ve never heard of it, right?  That doesn’t surprise me, because every time I try to shoot the sh*t with someone about it, they have no idea what I’m talking about.  If you’ve never seen it, it’s basically a cooking show where the host, Guy Fieri, travels around the United States in search of the best diners, drive-in’s and dives.  It’s not your average cooking show, in that it doesn’t go into all the tedious step by step process of a recipe, but it does give you a recap of numerous cooks whipping up deliciously unhealthy grub that is sure to make your mouth water.  In a nutshell, this show is entertaining and tons of fun, but completely underrated, because hardly anyone has heard of it.

Photos by New York Daily News, Pinterest, IMDB, The Food Network, http://www.notthatkindofgirl.net/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/catladydinner.jpg