Shit Girls Talk About Hiking

When I say, “I went on a hike with friends this Saturday” you’ll probably picture a small group of girls with fresh faces and coordinating lululemon outfits. Surely we would all be carrying water bottles, trail mix, and you’d be impressed with the level of difficulty in the hike we chose. We’d take a respectable picture at the top and then enjoy our homemade sandwiches, breathing in fresh mountain air and marveling at how beautiful life is.

Friday evening before we went out someone suggested we get one last hike in before it started snowing.

Saturday was the perfect sunny day for this healthy wholesome activity.

“I think I’m still drunk” from the back seat.

“Let’s do an easier hike. One that’s paved.”

“We need to stop for Starbucks.”

“And McDonald’s.”

“Where am I going? How do I get out of this city?”

Here’s a short summary of a moderately difficult three hour hike with four girls, three of which were hungover and dehydrated.

We did not pack homemade sandwiches-we had cherry blasters and swedish berries and one mediocre cheese croissant from Starbucks.

And we only brought one water bottle.

Idiots, I know.

When we reached the top, there was no marveling at the beauty of life. We discussed Kate Moss’ breasts.

I love my friends. While I can count on them to have intelligent and meaningful conversations about life, love, careers, the future, etc. (yawn), I can also count on them for days like this. And these are the days I’ll look back at and be especially thankful for. Or at least have a laugh about.

Other topics of conversation included what was on our sex bucket list and all the ways in which one could make herself look big and scary if we ran into a bear.

“I don’t think bears like cherry blasters we’ll be fine.”

Pretty sure our obnoxious cackling kept all large hungry animals at bay.

We agreed that taking off your pants is the hardest part in a strip tease, especially if you’re wearing skinny jeans, but it’s something we’d like to master the art of.

Sex wasn’t all we talked about though–we have much more depth than that.

For example, we basically created a business plan for a new airline that will only fly to the biggest parties in the world and instead of “cookies or pretzels?” your choices would be “gin or vodka?” The airlines biggest concern would be ‘party terrorists’ and we would play mostly 2003 hip hop.

We also discussed what Disney Princess each of us would be.

I’m Sleeping Beauty, in case you care. It would get me out of a lot of responsibility.

Then we reminisced about the best night at National on 10th we ever had.

“We were peacocking like mother fuckers that night.”

The “Peacock Effect” was penned by Neil Strauss who apparently became ranked the worlds greatest “pick up artist.” Though his theory was created to help guys pick up girls, we like to think we’ve adapted the theory to work in our favor. For example, the night we’re speaking of was the night of the British Invasion. Please refer to this summer’s blogs if interested.

Apparently plaid shirts, purple onesies, and Octoberfest-sized drinks will have men flocking to you. Not necessarily men you like though.

“Woah what are you drinking?” they’ll ask in amazement. You’ll look like a bad ass who can really handle her liquor.

Until you order a second one.

You can read all about peacocking in The Game. If nothing else, after you read that book you’ll have fun calling guys out on using Neil’s pickup lines verbatim.

On the way back down the mountain my friend told an astonishing tale about a guy she dated who was legitimately asexual. Nothing did it for him. Male or female. Simply not interested.

In this case, no peacock effect or amount of work she put into her striptease skills was going to make a difference.

But there’s always a silver lining. We have a new explanation for when boys don’t want to date us.

“Hey Cynthia did you ever hear back from whats-his-name?”

“Mmm no not sure what happened there.”

“He must be asexual.”

“Yes that must be it.”

After a tiny bit of complaining, sweating, a pit stop at McDonald’s, and blaring Beyonce ballads, we made it home.

We ended the day by eating Oreos and watching Baby Mama. It was, in my opinion, the perfect Saturday. Because Saturdays should be spent laughing.

Leave the “important” stuff for Mondays.


That Night In December

Lately I have a lot of girlfriends fully participating in the world of dating. It seems to me that the friends in my life have gone one of two ways. I have girlfriends who settled down with bachelor number one or two fairly early on. They’re engaged, married, or own a puppy together.

Then I have this group of friends who have done the opposite. They’re on to bachelor number seventeen, they’ve been single so long they forget what it’s like to share anything with anyone, or there’s my funnest friends: The one’s who now look at dating as an experiment. They’re the people who got sick of unfulfilling relationships and bad dates so they changed their perspective on it all. They have checklists, goals, experiments, and they don’t take any of it too seriously. They’re in it for the fun of it to the joy of people like me who love hearing the stories over Sunday morning brunches.

I had a lot of hilarious Sunday morning brunches in the month of December. Maybe because of all the holiday parties and that forever overrated night called New Years Eve. These stories had a common theme; they all involved us humiliating ourselves in front of the boys we liked. Or, you could also look at these stories as proof that we need to stop binge drinking.

I can’t remember what friend said this because I think it was just before midnight on December 31st. But I remember hearing “If he really likes you, you can’t embarrass yourself in front of him”.  It seems that during the end of December the universe was testing this.

There will always be drunk texting. I remember being twenty years old and swapping cell phones with my best friend so that we wouldn’t text our ex-boyfriends. Cynthia knows herself so well that she deletes the messages she sends after eleven o’clock on weekends because she doesn’t feel like cringing at the witty attempts at flirting she made the night before.

“Oh my god. I remember you told me to be nicer to him so apparently I told him I liked his dimples”

“At least you didn’t say I can’t wait for you to [insert something totally raunchy and explicit here]”

“Don’t put those ideas in my head!! Take my phone away from me and don’t give it back until tomorrow morning”

To make her feel better I remind Cynthia of my New Years Eve. This was the first night I “partied” with the guy I’m seeing. You would have thought I’d be a little smarter and eat enough to balance out the amount of rum and champagne we were drinking. Early on in the evening I posted that overused quote on Instagram that says “time to drink champagne and dance on the table”. There was no dancing on my part. I fell asleep standing up nestled into his chest. Apparently I kissed Cynthia at midnight and my friends had to direct me to my new guy. The next day I checked my phone and I had sent Cynthia a text at 12:14am asking if we could go home yet.  Lucky for me he’s kind enough to trust that I’m normally a little more fun than this.

In the midst of our  two day NYE hangover my roommate and I felt better about ourselves after we heard a story from a friend who went home with her new boyfriend after a late December Christmas Party.

“The question is, where didn’t I get sick?”

Oh no.

“I puked all over his apartment”

Oh god.

“It gets worse. I woke up in his shower.  Then he slept with me on the bathroom floor all night”.

He sounds like a keeper.

And then there’s every girls worst fear. My good girlfriend Kim loves to party. She’s that friend who has been to every festival, experimented with every drug, and can drink most guys under the table. She came over on the 27th with a look of horror on her face and I knew something bad must have happened.

I can always tell when Kim’s about to confess something. I sit patiently and wait.

“I peed his bed.”


“We played five rounds of Sociables. I drank a 26 of vodka, shots, champagne, wine, smoked a shit ton of weed, and barely ate.”

“No wonder you had zero control over your body”.

“I blamed it on his dog”

“And he believed you!?”

“I don’t think so” 

Kim and her boyfriend of two months are still together. Not a word has been spoken since about his dog peeing the bed.

So I guess it might be true. If a guy is really into you no drunk text or messy New Years Eve will change that. And if it does, there will be a guy out there who will clean up your puke, hold you up at the bar, and not call you out on blaming his dog for pissing your pants.

Way to start the year off right girls.

High School Reunion

Published in Branded Magazine


How did I get here? I still remember what I wore on my first day of university. And didn’t I just move out?

I have to remind myself that I’ve had, like, six boyfriends, seven roommates, and it’s already been five years since I finished university. On a sunny afternoon in June of 2005, everyone warned me, “Don’t wish time away; it’s going to fly.” I was in my gown with too much eyeliner on and too platinum of hair, thinking only about after-grad and not much else.

Well, as expected, they were right.

I wish I had a hilarious reunion story about running into an old crush that had rejected my 15-year-old self only to wind up being one of those guys who ‘used to be hot.’ We all know those people who peaked in high school.

But I don’t have a story like that because I didn’t go. I don’t even know when it was, but I decided I would be busy that night.

Nevertheless, having been free from the doors of my high school for an entire decade, I’ve been thinking about all of the things that I’ve done and haven’t done since. In reminiscing, I became aware of the lessons that I’m really happy I stumbled upon. Though some of them involved a lot of growing pains, they have been instrumental in shaping the pretend fully functioning adult I am today.

10 Things I Learned in the Last 10:

1. There are many unconventional ways to make money. For a long time I felt judged for not taking a traditional career path, knowing that trying to justify my choices was futile. Yet I spent the majority of this summer working from my cabin. Never had I thought that I could design a schedule and a life that allowed me so much flexibility. It doesn’t have to be 9-5.

2. I remember hearing these lyrics for the first time and knowing exactly who I would dedicate them to: Ive got some friends,some that I hardly know, but weve had some times I wouldnt trade for the world.” Swing Life Away Rise Against

They reminded me of those restless souls that I stumbled upon while backpacking SE Asia, the standard twenty-two year old thing to do.


Traveling is a better teacher, self-discovery method, and roaring good time than you can imagine. Short trips or big trips, it’s worth every penny.

3. You’re going to offend people— it doesn’t make you a bad person. You are a good friend whether you say yes or no to going out for drinks. And anyone who is up to anything in this world is going to piss some people off.

There’s bound to be someone that thinks of you when “Bad Blood” comes on. Speaking of Taylor Swift lyrics…

4. a) Dating is hard. 

4. b) The grass is never greener. All you want is a boyfriend/girlfriend until you’re fighting with them about their ex, or what Netflix series to start. When you’re finally single and free again, the hunt for your next mate commences and the cycle continues.

4. c) Don’t compare your relationship to other people’s. You never know what their relationship is really like – we only post the good stuff, and even the good stuff is filtered.

4. d) GIRLS: Ignore boys who text you after 10 p.m. BOYS: If she doesn’t text you when she’s drunk, she’s not that into you.

5. Write things down. I first started writing down my goals when I was 23. Five years later, I am living the exact life that I envisioned. It’s freaky. Now I write down ridiculous unlikely things just to test out my manifesting powers.

But in all seriousness, you really are a powerful creator. Just decide, write it down, and take a tiny step in the right direction.

6. Don’t drink on an empty stomach. I’ve learned this lesson about 7,345 times.

6 b) What classifies as binge drinking is really not that much, and you’re probably going to have to lie to your doctor.

7. McDonald’s will never fill you up.

8. You will finally understand why your mother always bitched at you to put your dirty dishes in the dishwasher—especially if you end up with a messy roommate.

9. At some point you will realize that you are either wearing, or have eaten, all of your money. You will then proceed to scribble down a ‘budget’ that you’ll follow for a day and a half. Nothing will change.

10. Dating will seem like the most complicated thing in the world, until you’ve met someone great. Then friendships will take the cake for the thing that drains energy out of you. That is, if you let them. Relationships are tricky, whether they are romantic or not. The best advice I’ve ever been given is to speak up when something is bothering you, and to say what you’re really trying to say—but say it now, not three days or three years down the road.

And this:

One day, whether you are 14, 28 or 65 you will stumble upon someone who will start a fire in you that cannot die. However, the saddest, most awful truth you will ever come to find is they are not always with whom we spend our lives.” –Beau Taplin, The Awful Truth.

That good old saying, “People come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime,” is true. And it’s okay. We play different roles in each other’s lives. Sometimes we are cheerleaders from afar as we watch one another conquer goals via social media. Sometimes we are not much more than drinking buddies, an occasional therapist, or a shoulder to sob on at 2:30 a.m. outside of a bar. And sometimes we even play the villain.

Overall, the last decade seems to have been a trial in learning to chase after what we want, while simultaneously learning to let things go. As much effort as this life requires, it needs to be matched with an acceptance and willingness to roll with the punches.

To the next 10.

I have to admit that the closer I get to 30, the less scary it seems. I imagine it to be a time where I’ll laugh at my twenty-something self and her petty problems, finally have a career figured out that seamlessly weaves together my passions that pays triple what I make now, and of course, eat salads every day.

I know, dream on.

I can only hope that the approaching dirty thirties have some great times in store. Until then, I will bask in the knowledge that the last 10 years have brought, and of course, continue to lie to my doctor about how many ounces of alcohol I consume on a weekly basis. 

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