Bar Tips: For the Fellas

Picking up females at the local 'hot' bar/club is not exactly rocket science. As a matter of fact, with the right amount of liquor, a girl will pass out a number (doesn't have to mean its a real number) like it's candy. Yet, some guys still screw it up. Some guys shake off a strike out, while others blame the female that caught their fancy, blaming the 'fickle' female nature as the root of their inability to get a girl to talk to them for longer than it takes to say, 'Fuck off'.

Here's some tips guys, just in case you keep finding yourself sulking alone over your fifteenth beer.

1) Breath Check Time: Yes, you are at a bar/club/whatthefuckever and yes you are probably drinking alcohol of some sort and that scent lingers. However, you do have pockets, those handy holder things attached to your pants... so do yourself a favor and pop a mint/gum/something that helps freshen that stale beer breath.

When a girl can smell your stank breath before you even lean in to deliver your well rehearsed lines she will back away and your chance is blown.

2) Have something interesting to say: An offer to buy a drink will give you at least 5 minutes of obligated conversation (unless the female just wants a free drink, in which case she will take the drink, smile at you and tell you her friends need her immediately) so make the most of the standard, polite, listening ear and say something other than bad pick-up lines or sexually explicit compliments. True, everyone knows you don't go to a bar/club/whatever to find romance, but a female wants to be perceived as something more to you than just a quick fuck.

Try asking about her drink of choice, her favorite music, or even just how her day went. A big plus if you make her laugh.

3)Don't be a Neanderthal: Slapping a girl's ass, brushing against her boobs (in a subtle manner, in your opinion is a grope session in hers) or any other such contact with a female that you have not conversed with previously is strictly forbidden.

There is an off chance that you can get away with such manhandling if you are on the dance floor, but even then you take your life into your own hands by being a Gropey McGroperson. So just don't.

Any girl worth her salt, any girl with a shred of self respect, will slap your sorry ass and no one likes to get beat down by a girl in stilettos. The ones that allow that contact are either too drunk to realize what the fuck just happened (and any guy that goes after that girl is basically a douche bag) or she is down for anything (and while that seems stellar in theory, the reality is she may be a carrier of one or several venereal diseases, so really, how cool is that?).

4)Be nice to her friends: Most girls go to bars/clubs in packs. They dress to impress and want to dance their asses off, chat with their friends over drinks, or just generally draw male attention (it's en ego boost, so sue us) within the safety of a group of friends. The friends serve the purpose as dancing buddy, bathroom buddy, and wing buddy (but not like your wing man, the wing buddy pulls the friend away when the secret signal is given that one friend is not feeling the guy trying to wiggle into her pants).

So when you approach the female that you desire, situated with her female comrades in arms, make sure to smile at every one of them and if you are lucky enough to not get asked to see your way away from them, converse lightly with at least a few of them. If you do well, the girl that you are shamelessly eying will be encouraged by her friends to dance/chat/body shot with you, trust me.

DISCLAIMER: Changing course mid pick up in the above scenario can be tricky. The girl you originally sought is not single or not as cool/cute/whatever as you originally thought...but her friend is.

Tread lightly. If you expressed an interest that was obvious to one particular girl but changed your mind and wanted her bff, chances are you blew it and should move on to the girl across the bar, one that is in no way obviously associated with the group of girls you are currently with. Switching chicks to pick up in a group will only make them think you are a douche bag.

If you were not clear on who in the huddled group of fine females you were interested in, then by all means pick the girl that catches your fancy after you have had time to think it through.

5)Do NOT ask a girl if she is DTF: Real life is not the Jersey Shore. Those guys get chicks and sometimes ask straight up they are DTF, and some of those girls say yes... why, you may ask? CAUSE THEY ARE ON TV!

Unless you have a legitimate camera crew behind you or are some kind of celebrity, asking a girl if she is DTF is a quick way to get your balls kneed or a drink thrown in your face (depending on the level of inebriation of the female in question).

A little respect goes a LONG way with the ladies, I do not lie.

These are basic tips that every guy should master before moving on to more subtle techniques, which will be explored at a later date.

So, gentlemen, incorporate these tips next time you are out and about. They help.

P.S- Final tip: Every girl has a different type of guy she is attracted to, so style of dress can vary wildly. However, what is not debatable is hygiene. Make sure you don't smell like a wet dog or look like you were rolling around under cars or with pigs all day. Just sayin'.

I Love College

In the time that I have been away from my pretty little blog my life has been in a tumult. I'quit' school, got a full-time jobbie-job slinging cell phones at technology spoiled, broke, whiny motherfuckers.

By the grace of God, I rediscovered my brain and quit before I either jumped off a building or started chucking Smart Phones at the constant stream of douche bags that strolled in demanding that I kiss their ass in the hopes of convincing them to activate service with the company.

Now I am back at school, full time, in the hopes that I can cash out with my degree- finally.

Here is the dilemma. Hell if I know what I'm going to do with my degree. I don't buy into the hype that a degree is a golden ticket that will get me passed Willy Wonka's Gate and into the damned Chocolate Factory. Nope, my guess is that very soon after forking over thousands of my hard earned green backs, I will be back at some thankless jobbie-job and pray that I don't have to 'service' those assholes who live to treat others like shit because they are paying for some kind of service/clothing item/food/beverage.

I have come to know many people that have purchased their 'Golden Ticket' from universities around the country and very few were able to transition that purchase of a 'priceless' piece of paper to an actual worthwhile, honest to goodness career that makes them so happy they shit sunshine and daisies on a daily basis. Most I know go to Grad school for lack of anything better to do, or lack of opportunity in their field without a Masters or Doctorate.

So it seems my friends, that what was once a ticket to taste the mythical 'high life' is now nothing more than the equivalent of a high school diploma. I'm all for educating the masses, don't get me wrong, smart people are less ignorant people; however when a college degree becomes as worthless as the piece of paper that you wipe your ass on after you take a... well you know what I mean... then I start to wonder what the point of it all is.

Is this cynical? I doubt it. Is this realistic? Unfortunately. I doubt most people enjoy where they are career wise, so perhaps I should just buck up and get over the fact that my time is being spent on a seemingly never-ending, reward lacking endeavor?

Well I suppose the best course of action would be to soldier on, and muck through the bullshit hoops that academia sets so that peons like myself can call themselves 'college educated'.

Yay!

Save Me From the Uniform

Ahhh, I can smell the fear, insecurity and desperation permeating the air. That scent isn't coming from a lonely speed dater, well not at the moment anyway, its coming from the thousands of job hunters in the world. Will we get the job? Are we qualified? Pleasant enough? Good-looking enough? Will I make the rent this month?

I find myself in line with the masses, trying to find a niche; a job that doesn't suck, that wont degrade me or put me in jail. I have reached such a point of utter unhappiness at my current day job that I am willing to consider any job that doesn't involve one simple thing: a uniform.

Perhaps it was the few years I spent in elementary school, looking like every other kid on the playground or maybe it was the few years I worked behind a Starbucks counter slinging lattes like they were liquid crack at over eager, hopped up, grumpy jerks. Whatever reason I can come up with, the fact remains that I have a phobia of any type of uniform. If forced to wear black or blue slacks and a collared shirt, I will go ape-shit crazy and throw something. No question about it.

Anything remotely resembling a Polo shirt makes my skin crawl and my throat begin to close uncomfortably (I am pretty sure I'm allergic to anything resembling 'preppy'). I am very fond of the color black, really I am, but if I am forced to wear black pants as part of a job, I'd as soon light the slacks on fire before I put them anywhere near my body. Dramatic? Probably. True? Definitely.

As much as I loathe to get anywhere near an establishment that forces me into a uniform to satisfy some whacked-out image of what customers find appealing, my options are not plentiful. After shifting through job listing after job listing with side notes ranging from, professional appearance required to Business Casual is the name of the game here, I came to a horrifying realization.

Almost everyone wears a uniform in the work force. Not just the McDonald's burger flippers or the Wal-Mart greeters, oh no, everyone does to a certain extent.

So a partner in a law firm doesn't have to wear an unattractive visor and a name-tag, but he has to wear a three piece suit with Italian leather shoes to be taken seriously. A doctor has to wear a white coat to distinguish himself from the crowd just in the way that grocery store workers wear aprons over their uniform.

It is so ingrained in society that we hardly notice that there is in fact a dress code for life. Damn it!

I am smart, savvy and damn good at working with people, but I know that if I were to look for a job in what I am comfortable in, I would get the boot in the ass out the door. I favor jeans and v-neck tees. I do not wear pencil skirts and long-sleeve blouses with a strand of pearls around my neck. I wear Chucks and flip-flops. I would tower over anyone in heels and look like incredibly silly if I had to wear them every day to work.

I have a had my nose pierced since I was sixteen and fought tooth and nail to keep it in during my high school days where any jewelery was strictly forbidden. I have a lip ring that is fairly new but much beloved and I don't think I should be looked at differently because I have a penchant for body decoration. The fact that there are a couple pieces of metal in my face doesn't stop me from providing excellent customer service or from knowing more than you do.

Why is it necessary to look like something from an Banana Republic or J.Crew catalogue to be taken seriously in the work world? Why do people assume that if you look like an up-tight WASP you must be intelligent and hard-working? Why does someone who has visible body art or jewelry get looked at like they are sub-human?

The point in this rant is quite simply this; there is a uniform for life
(I hope you got the memo that I missed) and it is boring. Good luck trying to be yourself and have a decent job. Forget individuality and head over to J.Crew to stock up on the 'appropriate' garments; I hear there is a sale on Saturday.

Enjoy your Empty House!

Do you hear that? No?

Exactly. Blessed Silence. The fabled 'I have my place of residency completely to myself, and no this isn't an open invite to have a party,jerk!' silence doesn't come often.

If you live alone, then this particular blog post won't do much for you, so feel free to skip it. But if you happen to fall in the category of someone who shares a living space, read on my friend.

I don't care if you live with your parents,significant other,relatives,friends or the random strangers you found on craigslist or that your university assigned; if you share a living space then you know that when the time comes that you are alone for an undefinable length of time, that time is special. Sacred, even.

I have found myself in such a sanctified position and in my ever present musings I have compiled a list of the best ways to capitalize on my fleeting solitude. My list has benefits for my wicked soul, its a means to recharge and just be.

So without further ado... My List:

1)Take the ear buds out of your precious mp3 device, dock it, and crank it. Simple instructions that seem trivial, but as soon as you have your music of choice bouncing off the walls at ear shattering levels (just because you fucking can) you will thank me. There is something to be said about just surrounding yourself in music listened to at a volume that you normally avoid out of courtesy to the people who share your abode. Note: This may not win you any fans if you live in an apartment complex. I personally believe its a risk worth taking, though.

2)While you are listening that music of yours, go a little crazy and practice those dance moves that you pretend not to know about. Let your inner rhythmless dork come out and get down with some old school moves that should include, but aren't limited to: The Cabbage Patch (you know you wanna), The Running Man, The Harlem Shake, The Hand Jive, and hell, why not try your best break dancing moves while you're at it. After all, if you attempt a kickflip or a head spin, no one will see you fall (or fail miserably). And if letting your silly side come out is something you find appalling, then go ahead and let your inner slut out. Don't deny you want to practice what you see on those practically-porno rap videos. So go for it. Enjoy.

3) I could say walk around naked, because its freeing (or so I hear), but I am not that cliche (and it gets drafty, even in June), so I propose something else. Go into your closet, drawers, floor, or wherever you stockpile your clothes and pick out your comfiest, oldest, most loved garments and throw them on! Does it have holes or bleach stains? Who cares?! That's even better!! Wear the things that you can't find it in yourself to be let seen by another living soul.

4) Have a 'friend' stop by (if you are single) and be as vocal as you'd like. Enough Said.

5) If your housemates are neat, be a little messy. If they are messy, clean to your hearts content and then revel in it all! That place is yours to do what you like, so break out the Windex or leave your dishes in the sink. Either way, you can rest easy and know that its all for you.

Well the list has come to an end, there are a million things to do when you find yourself alone, but these are my top five. Especially if you like to bask in the solitude for a moment.

Got any favorites of your own?

The Things that Make You Go, 'Huh'.

In most of my internal musings about Humans as a Whole, I reach the conclusion that at our core, we are all essentially the same. I hold true to this statement and until I have some empirical evidence to sway me otherwise, I will abide by it.

With that said, every once in a great while I come across someone who has me rethinking my theory. I spied one such anomaly today in my wanderings around campus. I think I will dub this case subject: The Kid that possibly lost a bet/really marches to the beat of an off-tune drummer.

For short, The Kid wearing the Harry Potter Hat.

That's right, you just read that. The Kid wearing the Harry Potter Hat. Walking around like it was Diagon Alley and not a college campus full of overly judgmental peers. To say I did a double-take as soon as I spotted him would be an understatement. I wouldn't have been surprised if my jaw literally hit the floor (and I'm fairly tall for a girl, so that's sayin' somethin').

I held in my instinctive chuckle aimed at the Kid with Watermelons for Balls (you have to be to wear that hat in a place where the students oddly resemble vultures on a good day). No one likes to be laughed at, and I wasn't going to let my shock give way to cruelty, no matter how oddly hilarious I found the sight.

It's one thing to go to a convention and dress up like your favorite sci-fi/fantasy character (who doesn't want to 'live long and prosper'?)and revel in dork-dom with you're own kind. At least when you dress up and kick it with your Vulcan or Storm Trooper buddies, you are the majority. You can use your light saber or Elvin crafted Longsword to kick some 'normal' people ass all up and down the block.

But to walk around on a college campus, the lone beacon of everything that is nerdy in the world... Well... That just makes me proud. How secure (or completely oblivious) do you have to be to let your Freak Flag fly like that? Pretty damn secure (or delusional), if you ask me. That kind of moxie gives me hope for humanity.

I am pretty sure that everyone has a healthy dose of 'dork' in them. I believe most of us have conditioned that 'dork gene' to hide beneath the surface, only to come out to play in isolation or with a group of like minded 'dorks'. We all seem to convince ourselves that our pesky little 'dork' trait is insignificant, that we are cool and socially acceptable.

These are lies; we are not cool and what in the hell is universally socially acceptable? We are all cut from the same cloth, we are fed the same media and education so it stands to reason that we all have the essence of dork somewhere. Some of us are masters at hiding it, and I gotta say, I have no respect for those fools.

The Kid with The Harry Potter Hat brightened my day and gave me a sense of well-being about letting my own nerdiness shine through. So Kid with The Harry Potter Hat, I salute you. You may not be one of a kind, but you are one of the few brave souls that simply doesn't give a fuck about what people think. Don't ever let anyone cast a 'silencio' on your very active dork gene.

As Personal as I'm Gonna Get

As an Intro to this blog I figured that a character sketch of the humanoid behind it (me) would be beneficial. So here are my stats:

Name: Michelle
Gender: Of the Female Variety
Age: Twenty-Something (closer to twenty than something)
Location: California (North of Fantasy Land but South of Lush Wine Country)
Occupation: College Student with the side job making my boss look good at my part-time, slave wage job
Addictions: Hot Chocolate, Books, Cigarettes, Things that smell good (laundry, guys, soap etc.), Cheap Jewelry, Movies, Green Eyed Males, Writing, Pondering, Music, Playing Pool, Cartoons, History and Witty Conversations

I tend to ramble and I have a tenuous grip on my verbal filter, but it works for me. I am a realist with an ambition for optimism but with leanings towards cynicism and it shows.

I have an opinion on just about everything, and whether its solicited or not, I tend to give it. My internal dialogue is often philosophical and I find myself musing on the state of the human race more often than not.

I wonder about my generation and our seeming instinctive leanings towards being trend followers. I worry about the previous generations innate ability to fuck shit up all over the globe. I like to put things in perspective by looking at the bigger picture, and it serves to show how silly human beings can be.

I have a low tolerance for bullshit on any scale. Social Justice and Common Decency are a high priority for me. I can appreciate Popular Culture but I don't live my life around it, and people who do tend to bug me a tad. Unrepentantly spoiled people irritate me.

All in all, I am random and this blog will reflect that as well as my opinions on the world at large; whether it is pop culture, world news, sex, a national headline, or just an observation I have made during my day. I hope to entertain you.