Hey You Kids! Get Off My Lawn!

It’s becoming abundantly clear that I am rolling into Old Lady Land at a shocking pace. Yes, there’s still the twelve year-old in me who giggles at the words “balls” or “nuts” and all of that good stuff. But lately other signs have pointed to the other extreme. Some examples:

-I am obsessed with procuring a nice tea kettle and tea pot. You know, for when I entertain the ladies from the church bazaar committee or something.

-As mentioned earlier, my tolerance for a clothing style I shall refer to as “whore chic” continues to dwindle. Sweet baby Jesus, buy some pants that fit you! Ladies, this means pants that are not so TIGHT and LOW that your hips turn into a muffin top. Also, tube tops are flattering on about 1% of the population; it is highly unlikely you are part of that group. The guys are not exempt from ridiculous fashion choices. I want to run around campus pulling up everyone’s pants and turning baseball caps around so the bill is in the front.

-Did I mention I’m learning to sew? An apron? Yeah.

-I sometimes find the music in bars to be too loud, so I go home. Before last call.

I guess this is a good thing, you know? Slowing my roll and all that. Hopefully at some point I’ll find a balance between acting like I’m 21 and on spring break and eating dinner at 4:30 and curling up with my Reader’s Digest.


5 thoughts on “Hey You Kids! Get Off My Lawn!

  1. That was by far the most out of control night of my life…from what I remember. I do recall the bouncer at the Crow Bar warning Eileen to keep an eye on me because I was being too rowdy. At a biker bar. I had to throw away the pants I wore that night; they were covered in cranberry juice and grease from the cable car.

    Good times.

  2. I hear you on the "fashion" choices the crazy kids are making these days. Since I teach teenagers, there's not a day that goes by where I don't want to give several of my female students some sweats to put over their "shorts," which–let's get real–are really just plaid underwear. No one can get away with those shorts. I don't care how young or thin you are. No one wants to see your cameltoe or cheeks, ladies. It's not such a beautiful view. I do have to admit that the boys where I teach are pretty decently dressed compared to the little whores. Let's talk about personal hygiene, though. The male freaks on campus–you know, the ones who are in the Robotics, Role-Playing, and Dungeons & Dragons–seem to have a little issue with showering and facial hair. First of all, dudes, take a shower in the morning and, for God's sake, put on some deodorant please. If that "beard" you're growing looks like facial pubes, do us all a favor and shave it off.

  3. What happened to you being my “cool” and “hip” older cousin. I guess I can forgive you though, as long as I can still play on your lawn :).

    As far as fashion faux pas the one that really gets to me is the pants and shirts that have words like “juicy’, “sexy”, and “hottie”. So you have confidence in your body, great, but must you see the need to tell the world you think you have a hott ass? What’s even worse than that is the fact that these are the type of girls who then complain that “people are always staring at my chest and butt.” I have news for MAYBE THEY ARE JUST READING THE WORDS ON YOUR CLOTHES!!!!

    Anyway that’s enough of a rant from me for today.

  4. Those shirts kill me too. Or the ones that say crap like, “Your Boyfriend Wants Me” or something equally classy. Way to represent, ladies.

    The “cool” and “hip” side of me is still there…I hope! And yes, you boys can always play on my lawn, or camp out in my backyard.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s