day seventeen: a rant

In my post from 2013, I ranted about weddings.

And ohhhh man, do I still have a lot to say about them. Like, I could do a 2,000 word think piece on why I believe they are a waste of money and why, even if I did want a wedding, I would never have a bridal party. I love my friends ...why would I put them through that?

But I'm going to keep my trap shut for now, and instead do a stream of consciousness rant.


Real adult humans know you're supposed to turn your directional on AND THEN hit the breaks, right?


A couple weeks ago I went to a concert in Philly where I stood behind what I can only assume was a newly ~together~ couple, and the guy would not stop pretending his fist was a microphone and was putting it in front of the girl's face for her to sing into for THE. ENTIRE. SHOW. All I could think was: she has to have sex with that guy.

They also talked a lot. Don't do that, don't hold a conversation during the middle of a concert.


My hair dresser told me last week that she wanted to get a new pair of glasses but her husband told her they made her look like an angry feminist, so she didn't buy them. I told her I own 7 pairs of glasses because no one tells me what I can or cannot buy with my own fucking money.

But she's better at talking than listening so my comment didn't even phase her.


White men, am I right?


So, when I was 18 and didn't know any better, I registered as a Republican. Clearly, I am not. But because it takes me approximately a decade to do anything, I finally got around to changing my party this past March.

I wanted to change it so I can vote in the Democratic primaries; mainly in the upcoming one for Governor of New York State because my kween Cynthia Nixon is running.

I got my official paperwork in the mail a couple weeks ago and plot twist: I'm not considered a Democrat until AFTER the mid-term elections in November, so I can't vote for Cynthia in the primaries in September.

Let's just say my dad thought this was HI-LARIOUS and my brother scoffed at my wanting to be a Democrat to begin with.

Petition to be emancipated from my family at the age of 31.