As much as I dislike self-reflection, I think it’s a very important exercise that forces you to check yourself before you wreck yourself and analyze just how acceptable your day-to-day behavior truly is. I might find dancing on bars and demolishing 48-ounce bags of M&M’s within a two-day period enjoyable, but in terms of my dignity and my waistline, they’re probably not the greatest things for me. For whatever reason, I chose 2011 to go as buckwild as a Flavor of Love contestant and from these uncharacteristic displays of stupidity I ended up learning quite a bit. Sharing is caring, so hopefully my list will evoke some thoughtfulness in you lovely people. At the very least, you’ll get a good laugh and I’ll be transported back to high school where everything I did caused crippling embarrassment and shame, just on a much nerdier scale. Let’s roll:
This year, I learned that wide-necked, off-the-shoulder tops are not a good look for me. I have a short torso, and all the extra fabric makes me look like I’m trying to hide an oopsie pregnancy. This may work for Jessica Simpson, but I don’t have a career to desperately salvage, so I just end up looking chubs.
This year, I learned that I’m actually a pretty ballin cook. I knew I could bake, but apparently the culinary world has a lot more to offer than a box of Barilla and a jar of Classico, and I discovered that. I have mastered gourmet chicken salad, oatmeal chocolate chip pancakes from scratch, and homemade mac and cheese, and that’s just the tip of the spatula.
This year, I learned that bragging that your fake ID “even worked on Bourbon Street!” is not impressive.
This year, I learned that a person can wear big ole Dolly Parton hair, or a tight red cocktail dress, or an obscene amount of black eyeshadow, but should never try to rock all three simultaneously. Yikes.
This year, I learned that it’s not necessary to buy sunglasses because a new pair will inevitably fall into your lap at one point or another. I had two pair for a solid four years, and managed to lose them both between the months of March and June. At this point in time, I own three, and I have no idea where any of them came from. That’s called being coincidentally advantageous, and I’ve cornered the market.
This year, I learned that I am Charlotte York from Sex and the City. I’m not explaining this. Just go watch a few episodes and try to deny it.
This year, I learned that although gelato has less fat than ice cream, you can bridge the gap and still gain a solid six pounds when you make a habit out of visiting the nice Italian guys that run the joint every single day.
This year, I learned that I’m not as good around adults as I thought. German people don’t appreciate my humor and were not impressed by my botched delivery of “Guten morgen!” The fact that I don’t like sausage really sealed my fate.
This year, I learned that growing up does not actually mean getting any more mature. There is no shame in enjoying a classic Disney movie, calling someone a copycat, and wearing rain boots, Soffe’s, and a bikini top to the grocery store.
This year, I learned that if your core group of friends has more than five girls in it, two of them will undoubtedly hate each other on any given weekend. It’s science.
This year, I learned that Madonna and Lady Gaga aren’t the only ones who can pull off the whole brunette-to-blonde thing with finesse.