Thrust into the Real World: Month 1

It would be wonderful if I could tell you that, since graduating on May 12, I had secured my dream job and was moving to Boston to become a successful twenty-something with a fabulous loft apartment and a newfound taste for Chai Tea lattes.

This could probably not be more false.

Instead, my entrance into the real world has consisted of downloading a weight loss app, riding a mechanical bull, and buying a pair of wedges on mega clearance ($70 down to $17, I’m still not over it). My one saving grace is the fact that my name has finally been printed in the magazine I’m interning for, and even with that I’m trying not to overanalyze just how much of an asset they consider me to be after listing my name last out of all interns (alphabetizing be damned).

Is this how it’s supposed to be?

Is it still acceptable that I’m eating Ramen and canned tuna and considering them both to be balanced meals?

Isn’t my resume magically supposed to be overflowing with achievements and valuable experience by now?

Aren’t I supposed to be discovered by some Hollywood agent who sees promise in my mildly offensive humor and ignores my lack of acting experience, making me the new long-lost cousin on Modern Family?

When exactly do I have to stop taking satisfaction in passive aggressive Facebook status fights between couples?

What the hell is this whole “adulthood” bullshit?

I did not spend four years of my life Sparknotesing Shakespeare just to learn that half of the apartments advertised on Craigslist are actually in the ghetto and that coin laundry is not, in fact, a thing of the past. Getting frustrated with the whole apartment-search experience has, however, led me to my newest hobby/obsession: Craigslist personals ads, specifically Men Seeking Trannies. But I digress.

Hopefully, I’ll find a job sometime in the near future that does not require me to ask “Are you looking for jeans today?” or “Would you like the receipt with you or in the bag?” Until then, I just hope that at least a few other post-grad lives out there look as bleak and unassuming as mine. Now if you’ll excuse me, One Day is on HBO for the twelfth time in the past three weeks and I’d like to go criticize Anne Hathaway’s debatably “British” accent.

The Soundtrack to My Life

If you have never been to Disney World, you need to go. No, this is not a paid endorsement (although if they’d like to throw a few bucks my way for the publicity I’d be cool with it), and no, I’m not trying to make all of you deprived adult children out there feel bad about the fact that your parents didn’t love you enough to take you to the Happiest Place on Earth. There’s a lot more to it than Mickey Mouse-shaped fudgesicles and multiple rides through It’s A Small World. If I could incorporate aspects of the Disney fantasy into my everyday life, I would obviously start by beginning each day with a spin through the Teacup ride and having rotating daily lunch dates with each of the seven dwarves. Unfortunately, this is not realistic, but with the help of an iPod and an impressive need to feel like the most important person alive at any given moment, I have found a way to quell these magical desires.

 

 

In any Disney movie, the characters cannot seem to walk around without some kind of cheerful flute tune or ominous cello music reflecting their current situation. I’m the first to admit that my mood fluctuates as often as Miley Cyrus’ role model status, and I think it’d just be easier for everyone I come in contact with if there was some tunage to indicate how I felt at one particular second or another. Enter The Soundtrack to Skylar’s Life:

When I get up in the morning: The first three minutes will be dedicated exclusively to Wham!’s “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go” simply because it’s an upper and anything that distracts me from the fact that it’s 7:30 a.m. is a huge plus. As I get out of bed and get ready, it will switch to a montage of girl power songs like Destiny’s Child’s “Independent Women Part 1,” Christina Aguilera’s “Can’t Hold Us Down,” and Kelis’ “Milkshake.” I can now take on the day.

 

 

When I’m driving to my internship: Ludacris’ “Move Bitch,” because navigating through Downtown is a nightmare, and then the Speed Racer theme song because I’m perpetually late.

 

 

When I finish my work and the other slacker intern’s assignment all in one day: A back-to-back combo of Tina Turner’s “Simply the Best,” “It Ain’t Hard to Tell” by Nas, and obviously, “The World’s Greatest” by R. Kelly.

When I realize I won’t have time to go to the gym today and immediately decide to throw all calories out the window: Queen’s “Fat Bottomed Girls.” And “Baby Got Back” by Sir Mix-A-Lot. Then Nine Inch Nails’ “Hurt.” Because I now feel like a fatass and realize I probably have some kind of seriously twisted relationship with food.

When I get a cute text from my boyfriend: “Sweet Pea” by Amos Lee because it’s just precious and so is he J.  

When work calls and tells me they need me to come in half an hour early: “Hate My Life” by Theory of a Deadman. This needs no explanation.

When I’m helping a guy in the fitting room and his girlfriend is giving me the stink eye from across the store: Tila Tequila’s “Fuck Ya Man” to her, and to him, Avril Lavigne’s “Girlfriend” minus the whole, “I should be your girlfriend” part because thanks but no thanks I’m not interested, I’m just trying to get you to buy a $120 pair of jeans and hopefully a belt.

 

 

When no one’s come into the store for an hour and a half and I’ve refolded the same pile of denim twice: Todd Rundgren’s “Bang on the Drum,” followed by Blue Oyster Cult’s “(Don’t Fear) The Reaper” because I’m almost positive I’m going to die surrounded by peasant blouses and graphic tees.

When I meet my friends at a bar after work and they’re already breakin’ it down on the dance floor: Without question, “Gettin’ Jiggy Wit It” by Will Smith. Since I am not yet drunk but don’t want to miss out on the fun, I throw my self-consciousness to the wind and on comes Lady Gaga’s “Just Dance.” After a few whiskey and Cokes, Jamiroquai’s “Canned Heat,” Snoop Dogg’s “Drop It Like It’s Hot,” Kenny Loggins’ “Footloose,” and Irene Cara’s “What A Feeling” will ensure that the mental image I have of myself while dancing is vastly different from the actual display of awkwardness taking place.

 

 

When I get tired of people stepping on my feet and Fun Drunk Skylar turns hostile: Mystikal’s “Danger,” then “Awnaw” by Nappy Roots. This is not the time to mess with me.

When the cabbie drives completely out of the way because he realizes we’re too tipsy to notice: Supertramp’s “Take the Long Way Home.” When we arrive at our apartment and our fare tops out at $20 even though the usual ride costs only $8 but we’ve had such a fun night that no one really cares, the friend with cash hands it over while T.I.’s “Whatever You Like” plays

When I climb in bed only to realize that I have to be up again in four hours: Drake saying “Yolo” over and over and over and over and over and over and over…

Graduation Acceptance Speech

Wow, I really didn’t see this coming! It was an honor to even be nominated! I don’t even have anything prepared. Just kidding, here goes:

First, I would like to thank the Business School for weeding me out after first semester of freshman year. I thought since I was successful at DECA events in high school that I really wanted to be a Marketing major, and could potentially turn that into a career in PR. Luckily, by forcing me to take math, science, and bullshit gen ed classes before I even stepped foot inside of a marketing classroom, you ensured that I would change my mind and fall back on the one thing I’ve ever actually been decent at: writing. I owe ya one!

I would also like to thank my parents for not telling me “Well why not stay in state for school?” They also did not force their alma maters on me, and my dad calmly accepts defeat when Louisville beats UConn twice in one basketball season. They sent me care packages and did not have me delivered to a mental institution even when stress freak-outs caused me to start crying over the phone for no particular reason. When I came home on breaks after living off of nothing but Ramen and apples for three straight weeks, my mom plumped me right back up. Basically, they’re awesome, and if I ever become rich and famous I promise to pay them back for my tuition. Way to be, Mawm and Faja!

A big shout-out goes to my adrenaline levels for forcing me to eek out multiple all-nighters without the help of Red Bull, Monster, coffee, Adderall, or any combination of the four. I am very proud of my ability to stay up all night fueled entirely by procrastination, self-loathing, and the fear of failing out of school, and it goes without saying that I’m just an all-around better person than anyone that is incapable of doing so.

To all of the pref night and formal dates I have had, you are all stud muffins and thank you for inviting me to get drunk in a pretty dress at a hotel fo’ free. Not everyone can say that they slept in the hallway as the night maids vacuumed around their freezing body; or stepped in the puke of another girl who was unable to handle her Heaven Hill; or did the Cupid Shuffle on Bourbon Street while horse cops took videos on their iPhones; but I sure as hell can, and the memories (or at least the pictures) will last forever.

Every cop that has broken up a party and forced me to hop fences in heels; every professor who has taken a liking to me and allowed me to turn in a paper a week late just because I didn’t feel like doing it on time; every time I hit the refresh button to view my grades at the end of the semester, only to find that my Comm grade STILL WASN’T UP; every girls’ night spent talking about the Dud Friend and/or whichever guy screwed us over that week; every time the Campus Preacher told me I was a harlot who was headed straight to the fiery depths of Hell; every outlet in the library that was conveniently being used when my computer was on 2% battery and I would lose the last eight pages of my paper if I didn’t plug it in like now; every free food event hosted by a student organization I had no intentions of joining; every time someone asked me if I was in a sorority, and I said no, and I got the response of “…Well that’s okay;” every random person that I have ever come across that I now say “Hi” to even though neither of us is really sure how we met in the first place; and of course, every year living in the lovely city of Louisville that has given me an inexplicable hatred for anything UK related:

Thank you. It’s been real.

Surprise Stud: The Hinge

When I first came to college and didn’t know anyone, I would identify certain people by nicknames. I now know the names of Highlighter Shirt Kid, Pukes-And-Brushes-Her-Hair, The Shnoz, and Fishface, but that doesn’t mean I ever stopped using the nicknames, and I probably never will. Giving a person a nickname grants you a lot more conversational freedom, because talking about someone “behind their back” right in front of them is like, way more respectful. Duh, it’s called manners.

I was once told that guys spoke in code around girls so that they could talk freely about them with the girl being none the wiser (sketchy), but SURPRISE we do the same thing. I love giving guys nicknames because even if the one they are awarded is painfully obvious to the rest of the world, generally the guy has no idea he’s being talked about, which gives me a hearty chuckle. Let’s explore my favorite and most widespread (among my friends, at least) nickname invention. I’m gonna need to copyright this shit:

If you are one of the 0.0001% of red-headed males out there who are actually attractive, and you have ever been around me, you have probably heard the word “Hinge” thrown around quite a bit. Congratulations, unlikely-babe magnet, I’m talking about you. A Hinge is a Hot Ginge[r]. That’s right, an attractive person sharing a follicle-likeness to Carrot Top. I didn’t think it was possible either. Jokes about the carpet matching the drapes and a lack of soul aside, a Hinge should own his Hingeness, because when girls realize what a hot commodity and rare occurrence a decent looking red-headed guy is, they pounce. It’s a part of every girl’s bucket list, promise! Red-headed females are especially fond of Hinges, because if they’re going to repopulate a species, they might as well give the next generation a fighting chance with a strand of surprisingly sexy DNA. A Hinge cannot be determined by anyone except an outside source, aka a girl, because if Hinges were all going around self-proclaiming Hinge-dom, Rupert Grint might actually stand a fighting chance in society (sorry, Ron). If you’re a guy and a ginger, keep on crossing those fingers that you make the cut. You probably don’t, but at least you distracted yourself from your unfortunate freckly knuckles and lower-than-average life expectancy. 



A thousand times yes.

Potential...

SAVE ME JESUS

Last Semester of College Facts of Life

-       If your hairstyle is classy, so is the sideboob you’re unintentionally displaying. Own it.

-       There is zero shame in going to the bar in yoga pants, glasses, and a messy bun.

-        A 10-page paper should take three hours to complete. A 10-page paper will take seven and a half hours to complete.

-        The aforementioned 10-page paper will actually be eight pages and some change but makes the cut thanks to size 14 periods and size 13 commas.

-        Skipping a week of school to road trip to Mardi Gras is a rite of passage and should never be met with feelings of guilt or the phrase “But I have a ten page paper due!”

-          Mixing the last bit of a bottle of whiskey and the last bit of a bottle of vodka is called “creativity.”

-        Doing something stupid after mixing whiskey and vodka is called “learning a lesson.”

-        You will get a dog. You will love the dog. The dog will pee everywhere, chew everything, and cry constantly. You will no longer love the dog.

-        Forget what your mama says. A person can live off of Kraft singles, celery, and fun size Snickers alone.

-       Spending half your rent on a pillowtop mattress pad and memory foam pillows is the best idea you will ever have in your life period.

-       If you had a project due on Monday, waiting until Thursday and then shooting your professor an “I’ve been having technical difficulties” e-mail undoes everything and is basically the same thing as turning it in on time.

-       The last three weeks of your college career are officially sponsored by the phrases “I don’t even care anymore,” “Wanna go to Tequila Tuesday?” and “I forget what motivation feels like.”

-       When you’re studying in the library with headphones on, people can still hear you humming along to Red Hot Chili Peppers. It’s not that embarrassing.

-       Not having finals and celebrating how you’re on summer break two weeks earlier than everyone else is not making you any friends.

-       Realizing you have $70 left on your meal card and you have to spend it by next Monday will make you a ton of friends, and they all want Chik-fil-A waffle fries.

-       Coinstar. That is all.

We Wasted the Good Surprise on You!

Hey everyone who’s been dating their significant other for at least the past three years of college, good news: you’re getting engaged.
How do I know? Because duh, that’s the only logical next step. Wait until you’ve established your career and save up to throw yourself a decent wedding? See how your relationship flourishes/flounders in the real world as opposed to the college bubble? Continue to have the inexpensive option of just breaking up with your boo when they do something stupid instead of having to become familiar with the phrase “irreconcilable differences”? Blasphemy! You should definitely get married instead.
Now that the cat’s out of the bag I might as well break the entire process down for you so you know exactly what kind of well-thought-out events are on the horizon.

First, let’s talk about timing. You’re about to graduate, right? Could there be a more optimum time – when you’re not freaking out about job prospects or trying to maintain the last GPA you will ever receive in your whole entire life – than this? Hell to the no! You know exactly what the next six months will bring, and what else would you want to add to your plate than finding your dream gown a la Say Yes to the Dress and booking a photographer? This is going to be so relaxing.
Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, though. Before any of the planning can commence (did you know that the average cost of a wedding is about $20,000? Should be a cinch to pay off along with your student loans), the actual popping of the question must happen. Every couple is different, and every proposer puts their own spin on things, but you can generally assume that you will be asked either a month before the end of the year or right smack dab in the middle of finals week. The least stressful times of the year, congratulations! Get engaged around winter break instead? Are you crazy? That’s far too soon; people will think you’re far too young. You’re better off doing it at the same time as everyone else. It’s more special that way.
I know this doesn’t need to be said, but I am begging you: please plaster your new-and-improved relationship status all over Facebook. I’m talking pictures upon pictures of the ring, you two as a couple, just the girl, the whole nine yards. I’m going to be conveniently busy the weekend of your actual wedding so these should suffice for me. Also, please be sure to make every status update you have from now until the wedding be about the wedding. Every. Single. One. If you want to do me an extra solid, refer to your boyfriend/girlfriend as your “fiancé” in all of them, because I might get confused about who you’re talking about or what huge event is going on in your life. It would really help if you would suddenly become a fun hater and cease to post any more pictures of you going out and acting a drunk fool, because we all know you are now much more mature than the rest of us and couldn’t possibly participate in such shenanigans. Our generation is totally cut out for marrying young.

Well I hope you’re as shocked about this news as I am! You definitely didn’t see this coming and you haven’t been holding out for the ring for the past six months, right? Great. I now pronounce you Prepared and Financially Secure.

#PCB #YOLO #Lostmydignity

FUUCK BITHCES GET MONEYTYYYY!

HOW DID I GET SAND IN THERE?!

DUMP EM!

What’s up bro? Are you having a fucking sick time? Did you see that hot slut over there? What about the cottage cheese whale over there? FUCKED EM BOTH, YEAH I DID! What? WHAT? Dude I can’t hear you over all the dubstep! Tone it down a notch? Do you know who I fucking am, bro?

IT’S ME, PCB, BABY!

Dude I got so fucking hammered last night…. HAHA I’m fucking kidding, I’m still hammered. And I ain’t sobering up for shiiiiit. Yo can you hold on a second? I’ve gotta photobomb that group pic over there real quick.

THREW UP THE SHOCKER, YOU ALREADY KNOW!

Dude so tonight I was thinking pregame aka finish off the 30-rack I bought an hour ago and then let’s roll to La Vela? I know a guy who knows a guy who heard of someone that had a threesome on one of the beds there. Help me pick out which TapOut shirt to wear.

RACK CITY BITCH.

I don’t know why I just said that.

Let’s go talk to that group of girls over there. Do you think they can tell I went tanning (shh don’t tell anyone) and spent a month in the gym drinking nothing but Muscle Milk just as easily as I can tell they spent a week in the gym eating nothing but carrots dipped in Energy Vitamin Water? God I hope so.

Hey ladies! Having a good time? Where are you all from? Ohio University? I heard they never party there! Hahajustkidding so when are you gonna show me your tits? Hahajustkidding but no really I know you’re wasted you might as well just get it over with. Only if your Big does it too? ‘Oh it’s Spring Break why not’? THAT’S THE SPIRIT. Don’t worry, I still respect you.

Oh sure, I’d love to take a picture of you all jumping. Everyone ready? Hold hands!

1-2-3-JUMP!

Wait sorry, the DUFF on the far right got like half an inch of air, try again.

1-2-3-JUMP!

Girl in the middle might wanna put her Corona down. We get it, you’re a party animal.

1-2-3-JUMP!

Decent, let’s try one more for good luck.

1-2-3-JUMP!

Perfect. You’ll realize later that I just took four consecutive zoomed-in pictures of the brunette’s boob that conveniently popped out. Untag!

Do you girls like Luke Bryan? Heard he’s playing a show later, we should all meet up there! I hope Avicii makes a surprise appearance and remixes “Rain is a Good Thing,” wouldn’t that be awesome? Here, let me get one of your numbers aka hot blonde girl with the better body than everyone else who will conveniently find herself in my bed tonight. Peace!

Dude is the week over already? I barely remember anything but I’m pretty sure I had a fucking bomb-ass time. Did we ever find Rob after that night at Harpoon Harry’s? And did you see Veronica win the ass-shaking contest? Definitely hitting her up when we get back to school. Did you ever get that huge shard of the Bud Light Lime bottle out of your foot? You should probably get that checked out, bro.

What’s that? No I totally raw-dogged that calling-her-a-4-would-be-generous from University of Kentucky, why? No, I asked, she was all clean. I ASKED bro, it’s fine. Why? Yeah it does kind of burn when I pee, so what? Nah that’s not Chlamydia, that’s the hot sensation of Spring Break, baby! We went fuckin’ HAM, dawg!