My Internship as a Spangle Ambassador

Hey guys! I know I haven't made a post in a while (school has been cramping my style), but check me out on Spangle's blog! I am currently interning with them as a student ambassador!
First things first, what is Spangle? To give you a look into what Spangle is and how you can download it, I'll tell you how they state it, because they know it best!

What is Spangle?

          It is an app for Apple and Android phones. It gets people together. Then people do awesome things.
In the direct words of the creators themselves, "Spangle is a new mobile app that gets people together to do awesome things. Spangle is a social invitation app that is more personalized than a Facebook Event and more convenient and fun than group texts or email chains. Our Ambassadors use Spangle everyday to become the social glue of their campuses and to organize events that create buzz."

So go ahead and click the link and check me out on Spangle's site!

Spangle Ambassador Spotlight: Madison Munson

More importantly, don't forget to #FightFOMO and to always #BeSpontaneous !

1 Year Anniversary

Before I begin with tonight's blog, I would like to start of by saying thank you. Thank you for reading about all of my crazy rants and thoughts that circle my mind on a daily basis. For those of you new to my blog, go ahead and click on any link to the right of this post in the archives section. I can assure you that you won't be disappointed.

Actually, even if you are a returning viewer, just reread them again. You will probably do one of two things once you click on a link:

1. You will laugh hysterically at everything I write. You will shred tears and your heart may even stop because you can no longer breathe.

2. Fear me. My words are very strong.

It's All Just Wrong!

Have you ever spent an evening in a restaurant were everything seemed to go wrong? The food was wrong, the waiter was wrong, everything was wrong, wrong, wrong!

Let me tell you all about an incident I had with my friends last Sunday at BJ's Brewery in San Rafael. It was my friend's 21st birthday and to celebrate, we decided to head out to BJ's for some happy hour drinks and appetizers, as well as an actual meal. First, let me take a step back to the phone conversation my friend had with the woman who answered the call to take down our name and reservation.

Woman: Hello, this is BJ's Blah Blah Blah.

Friend: Hi I wanted to make a reservation for tonight at 6:30pm for a party of 9.

Woman: 9? Did you say 9 people?

Friend: Yes, I did.

Woman: *huffs and puffs and sighs* Well.........*long pause*.........That's a lot of people for a dinner reservation. Especially at 630pm.

Friend: Soooooo, do we need to reschedule for a later time tonight?

Woman: Well.............that's just a lot of people. I'm going to need to clear this with my manager first. Hold on.

*5 minutes later*

Woman: Hello? Yeah, We can fit you in at 630pm, but it's going to be a busy night.

Friend: Well...ok. We are still coming.

Woman: Ok, *distasteful tone* see you then. *sighs and hangs up*




Ok, so I think we can all agree that this employee could use a few tips on proper phone etiquette.

Anyways, we blew off her bitchy attitude and went out for the day. As time wore on, we headed out to the brewery to enjoy one another's company while sipping on Wild Berry Mojitos and beer.
Unfortunately, our experience was less than enjoyable. Actually, I am reconsidering ever going to that specific location again.
Our waiter approaches us, only gives us waters for half the table, then disappears for about 15 minutes. Realizing he might be busy, we let him off the hook since we were still trying to decide what  happy hour drinks and appetizers we wanted to buy.

As a disclaimer, I was at this restaurant the week before and sat at the exact same table. It was happy hour and even though we were not sitting at the bar, we were still able to order from the happy hour menu. This time, our waiter told us that he couldn't give it to us because we were not at the bar!
What the heck is this nonsense! Why are these employees never on the same page!?
After this waiter consults with his manager, he is cleared to give me the happy hour menus.

We asked to each have separate checks, then proceed to order our drinks and ONE spinach and artichoke dip appetizer. Twenty-five minutes later our drinks arrive and he takes our order for our meals. We go around the table ordering, with two people sharing a meal. Two of us ordered burgers to be cooked medium and one burger had added bacon.
Thirty minutes later, our food arrives. The burgers are cooked so well done that I am pretty sure they set it on fire and forgot about it. Also, the bacon on the burger wasn't cooked! The pig was still oinking!

We held our tongue because service was already slacking. We ate our meal in near silence and when we finished we waited for our dessert menu. Instead, he brought us the check and didn't even ask us about dessert! The only reason I was still there is so I could eat that damn pizooki!
We kindly corrected him, he brought us the menus, we ordered, we ate, then we waited for our separate checks.

Unfortunately, when our waiter came back, he did not have separate checks for us. He did, however, tell us that our ordering was "too" confusing for him. Instead, he had us each write down what we ordered on a piece of paper, then hand the paper back to him. While reviewing the check, we ale discovered that he charged us for regular priced appetizers instead of the happy hour price and continued to claim that this was what we ordered. THEN, this fool spent another 30 minutes attempting to split the checks.

Highway 37

Day 1: It's 7:45am and I am getting ready to walk out of my house and to my car. It's my last first day of class today and all I can think of is, "Dear Traffic Gods, Please let there be no traffic. Please let me get to class without an urge of flipping people off and have untamed fury raging through my veins."


This was a real thought I had when I stepped into my car and started Precious (my car) up. Misery flooded my brain and heart as I made my way down my street and onto the dreaded Highway 37.


First things first (yes I am the realest), traffic was absolutely horrendous on my first day of school. Every Tom, Dick, and Jane decided that my first day of my senior year of college was also Make-Madison's-Blood-Boil Day.
Never in my life have I seen so many cars on the road at one time, unless it's a holiday. BUT, I guess I did mention that all the people in the world made this a holiday just for me, so in theory, that day was a holiday.


Ok. Let's flash forward to me actually being on Highway 37. There is so much construction throughout the marsh restoration area, for a split second I thought the Traffic Gods were giving me a sign. They were telling me "I know Madison. Traffic is bad today. But soon, it will be better. Soon, there will be two lanes and not one. Soon, you will have limited road rage. Soon, the suffering will be over." I really did think this. Of course, it seemed too good to be true, sooooooo I did some research. It turns out that there will be no second lane when driving from Vallejo to Marin County! My heart sank into the bottom of my stomach as I continued to read about the restoration.


Not only is there going to be ONE lane for what seems like forever, but the restoration people plan to turn all that mess they have going on into a lake-ish thing that "will be open to the public to explore on foot, bicycle or kayak (Read More Here)."
Do these people realize that there is one lane with a barrier protecting people from the only other lane on 37 going in the opposite direction!? How the hell are people going to get over to this new "sanctuary?!"
Ok. Let's say that people do decide they want to check this marsh out once it is complete. I have two problems with this:


1. Traffic is already terrible. Do they realize how much more miserable it will be with folks coming from BOTH directions on 37 at the same time!? Ain't no body got time for that! Especially when I am just trying to get to and from school as quickly and efficiently as possible. You marsh people are ruining my life!


2. I thought the point of there only being one lane in each direction was because the marsh people needed to protect the land/endangered species living there. If so, then why are you creating something that is going to allow people all over the land with their kayaks and their littering? Have you been smoking the ganja!?


In conclusion, the Traffic Gods do not like me very much and the feeling is mutual.

Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire

Do you ever find yourself walking through a grocery store with your list of things to buy, then suddenly become frustrated beyond belief at the food/drinks you are buying or the hygiene products you plan on using? If you don't, then apparently I am the only one and therefore a weirdo, but I'm ok with that.
In tonights edition of my blogging, I have decided to spend some quality time venting out my frustrations with apple juice, cheese, and deodorant.

Apple Juice:

I love apple juice! I tend to only purchase my apple juice from Apple Hill in Placerville during their open season, however, there are those days when I have a craving that must be satisfied. The other day, here I am at work, enjoying some coffee and thinking about deodorant (which will be explained later), when a coworker of mine says, "Hey Maditude! Here is something for your blog!"
I stop mid-thought and read the label on the apple juice container he has just handed me. Go ahead and read the bottle for yourself.

How in the heck can this be 100% pure apple juice when it had added ingredients! LIES!!!

Dishonor on you! Dishonor on your whole family!

How is it possible that this apple juice thinks it can get away with being 100% fresh, when clearly it isn't? Suddenly, I began to crave apple juice, but of course, I can no longer trust the grocery store on this one for some authentic apple juice!

Cheese:

Ok, so the cheese one is along similar lines with the apple juice. I had absolutely no idea that some cheeses were so ridiculously processed that some companies cannot even label their cheese as legit cheese! Take a look for yourself!

Pasteurized cheese product. They should just not even bother putting the word cheese all up in there. Instead, I think they should either stop attempting to make cheese, because it is clearly not working for them, or maybe just call them what they are. Yellow American Slices....or some variation of that.

Either way, these two companies are literally lying about what they are selling. They are changing the words around to make it seem like they are something they are not. Sounds like an ex-boyfriend to me...

Deodorant:

Ahhhhh, we have finally arrived at the deodorant part of my daydreaming. This doesn't really have anything to do with lies or false statements, but it does have to do with feminine hygiene. 

When I am walking down the isle, I'm looking for a nice, simple, clean and fresh scented deodorant. So why is it that every time I go looking for this, I have to walk past all these crazy sweet smelling scents like brazillian cherry or teen spirit strawberry. 

Then you have to pass the vegetable and etcetera scents, like calming cucumber and waterlilly green tea ginger. If I didn't plan on smelling like a fruit, why in God's name would I choose to smell like a vegetable!?! Why the hell would I want to smell like a cucumber!?

Once I put on my deodorant, the next thing I do is choose a perfume. I don't need my deodorant to do that for me. 

Little Missy Mae

Throughout my second semester of my junior year at Dominican University of California, I had the honor taking a Children's Literature class. During this time, not only did I learn about the different types/genres, but I was also able to write my own. Unfortunately, I also illustrated it, so the pictures do not serve this story any justice. Included in this story is a little bit about me, as well as other information that is generally included in a book proposal. I hope you all enjoy!

Summary:

Meet little Missy Mae. Unlike most children, Missy was born with special hands. These hands still work exactly like other children, but they look a little bit different. She enjoys going to the snow with her mom and dad, participating in sports with her friends, and she especially loves playing the piano. What exactly is so different about Missy’s hands? Missy was born with a total of nine fingers. Read along to find out more about little Missy Mae and the wonderful life she lives.

Author’s Biography:

         Madison Munson is a current Creative Writing Minor at Dominican University of California, located in San Rafael. With a love for children, especially her 4-year old niece and 2-year old nephew, writing for the younger generation has always held a special place with Madison. Growing up, she had witnessed other children facing different challenges without fully understanding that they are still just like her. Writing a children's book for those who were born or grew up a little bit different is something Madison wants to put forth into the world and show everyone that it is ok to be different. Previously, she has been published with OpEd News, an online magazine. Her paper, “How to Graduate from College Debt-Free!” is a satire about making child sweatshops a more realistic option to help pay off their future college loans. This paper also includes an exclusive interview with Senior Editor of OpEd, Joan Brunwasser. Other published works can be found on Dominican University’s online journal, The Tuxedo.

Target Audience: 

         My target audience is for children in preschool and kindergarten, particularly ages 4-6. Children of this age with keep this book with them because of its uniqueness. It tells a short story about a young girl who has a missing finger. Although this is just a small part of the human body, her hands still stand out from others. When a child grows up looking the slightest bit different from others, they might stand in the light they aren't particularly fond of. This book has the ability to show children that it is ok to look different. It also contains an underlying message about equality and treating others the way you would like to be treated. Missy Mae never encounters a bully, but she does encounter inner self-confidence issues. She sometimes has a difficult time accepting her hands as they are, however, her parents support her and love her just as she is, and so do her friends. Missy is not defined as a child with nine fingers, but as a little girl who loves to play the piano, jump rope with her friends, and go to the snow with her parents.

Competition:

• "The Gift of Grace" - Grace Mary McClelland

Published By: The Wild Onion Press in 201

• ”The Tree With No Limbs" - Christine Marie Johnson

Published By: Tate Publishing & Enterprises in 2008

• "The Making of My Special Hand: Madison's Story"3. - Jamee Riggio

Published By: Peachtree in 1998

• "Imagine...Amazing Me!" - Libbi Chilia

Published By: Halo Publishing International in 2008

• "Oliver's High Five" - Beverly Swerdlow Brown 

Published By: Health Press in 1998

• "Charlie: The Dog That Didn't Have a Paw" - Delaney and Ria Hurst

American Printing & Copying in 2010

All of these books contain information about children or animals who have missing hands or legs. One book, The Gift of Grace even tells the story of a young girl who was born with incredibly small hands. My book differentiates from the above books in one specific way: only Missy’s finger is missing. Instead of there being a large part of physical self gone, only a small and almost unnoticeable portion is missing. Missy still faces the same challenges that these children with with more obvious challenges face, just in a different way.  This reminds readers that not all challenges people face are obvious. Sometimes, they can be nearly unnoticeable to the naked eye, such as mental disabilities or minor physical ones similar to little Missy Mae.

Manuscript Specifications:

         This is an eight page, 200-word, picture book read with the incorporation of rhyming to enhance the child’s experience. Each page contains a picture related to what Missy Mae is experiencing or feeling at that moment in time. Most importantly, these pictures focus on Missy doing the same activities that other children with ten fingers can do, like playing the piano, jump rope, and basketball.

Outline:

Beginning: The beginning of the book focuses on what kind of person Missy Mae is like. She is a girl who, although having only nine fingers, still has plenty of friends who treat her just like everyone else. She takes trips to the snow with her parents, she is a great piano player, and she enjoys playing basketball and jumping rope.

Middle: The middle part of the book is where Missy Mae experiences self-conscious concerns about only having nine fingers. Her parents step in and reassure her that she is not alone. They remind her that there are other people who have all ten fingers, but are missing a leg or cannot see or hear. 

End: Finally, Missy recomposes herself and is happy once again. She is able to continue doing the things she loves most and goes out to play with her friends.

Big Boobs Deserve Affordable Bras!!!

Starbucks often gives me the name MadDison because I am well endowed in the D-Cup category of bra sizes. Yes, I am serious. Nine out of ten times, my name is written with an extra D. Coincidence? I think not.

Being a woman with a rather, eerrr, fuller bust, I feel that I must explain my biggest frustration to you all. This frustration is price.

Below is a picture of a bra from Target under their "light support" sports bra section. What this section should really say is "small-to-no-boobs."

Notice how this bra is marked at the low cost of $9.99. That is quite the bargain, isn't it?! These women have it made! Target describes this section of bras as support for "yoga and walking." I don't know about you, but if I wore this while doing yoga, my boobs would bust out of this within the first five minutes. It is COMPLETELY unrealistic. Also, where the hell would I be walking in this?! My fridge? Because that's about as far as this bra would make it before I started to sag like 90 year old woman who doesn't know the meaning of a bra. I might as well just continue to use my day-to-day bras, which would offer a shit-ton more support than this sports bra, which apparently can only support something the size of a pea.

The second picture below is from Target's "medium support" section. 

In this picture we see a bra by the same brand marked up to $19.99. Target claims that this is for activities like "sport and weight training." I am going to assume this bra is for all you C-Cuppers out there. And on that note, I will "C" this bra later, because once again, it still does not offer enough support, although I can get away wearing two of these (which would mean paying $39.98). Target, you can't fool me or my chest. We know what works and what doesn't.

Finally, we have arrived at the "high support" section.

I know what you are thinking. "This bra is $22.99 and offers D-Cup support without killing your bank account."
Well guess what I think? I think you should shut up because you don't know what you're talking about. This was one of two total options in this section. What would happen if I tried this on and it itched or still didn't offer enough support? Then what would I do?
The first bra had six different styles along with loads of color options.
The second bra had ten different styles with a crap ton of colors also.
What did the third bra get? TWO BRAS. What the hell Target?! Just because I have a bigger chest, it doesn't mean I should suffer because small boobs require less material! It's not like I got a boob job!

Ok, so I think you see where I am going with this. Don't get me wrong. I freaking love Target, but this is unacceptable. Who's with me!?

It isn't just Target either. Nike is doing it too!

In conclusion to my rant on bras, lower that price for a fellow woman. I'm over here trying to do my thing. I'm ballin on a budget and trying to save wherever I can, but this area is killing me and my chest!

People of Bart

Over the past few days (ok, months), I've been contemplating on what I should write about. I keep seeing all of these crazy things in Vallejo, so I thought to myself: Should I write about Vallejo again or is it too soon? The answer I gave myself was that it was too soon, however, I haven't done a post about Bart. So guess what! Bart is my topic for the day!

Last summer I spent the majority of my time working in San Francisco at the Americas Cup Pavilion. This meant that I took bart. A lot. I made an album on Facebook dedicated to the wild and outrageous sightings during the 45-minute ride to and from the city. 

The other day I took Bart to the Pride Parade when something amazing happened! I found a woman sticking out like a sore thumb in the crowd! I swear, she coined the word "Hippy."

Anywho, below are my pictures of Bart, which can also be found on my Facebook in case you're my friend on there.

She spoke "alien" and loves the color blue. She also hates it when random people take photos of her. Whoops!

This man spoke to a walkman. According to him, "Shane poisoned my ice cream and now i cant eat it!" He proceeded to throw his ice cream (haagen dazs, the good stuff).

Although this is a blurry picture, the focus should be on his arm. This man had an arm tattoo of the Three Stooges. Larry, Curly, and Moe would be proud. I, on the other hand, find this rather weird.

Why yes. That is a used diaper. Please excuse me while I throw up now.

I wonder if he knows that this train doesn't go to Wizzard School.

Where the hell did the front half of her pants go!?

This man went on a yelling rant throughout bart, accusing two of my coworkers of being lesbians. Lesbihonest for a minute. I wouldve feared for my life if I were them.

This woman replaced her baby with shit ton of bags. No baby in sight. Not even when she got off at her stop! Hashtag: That Shit Cray.

Old people looking at a map that im sure dates back to the early 1900s (much like the ones my grandparents use).

Drunk. Passed out. Woke up. Asked a stranger if she could buy a bag from him so she could throw up. NASTSASS.

This woman is a legit hippy to be able to sit comfortably on Bart. On the floor. When it is crowded. And we are on Bart. BART.

Confusing Food and Drinks

Food is a part of everyday life. Aside from water, food fuels our brains and offers us colorful options for ways of getting our energy. I'm a colorful eater. I love fruits and veggies of all colors, however, there are a few that just don't make sense to me.

1. Mushrooms: No. Mushrooms are fungi. Fungi grows on poop. In my mind, eating a mushroom is like eating poop. 
2. Fresh Tomatoes: I don't get them. Are they a fruit or are the a vegetable? I don't put them in my fruit salad, but they are still considered fruit. Ahhhh, so confusing!
3. Beets: How do you eat them? Pickled? Cooked? Raw?! The color tells me to halt and reconsider what I am about to consume. That dark red juice stains your hands and clothing in the same way that wine does, so why am I always tempted to try it when wearing white??
4. Juice that does not need to be refrigerated: I am talking about the cranberry and apple juice in the drink aisles at the grocery store. How is it possible that there is actually such a small amount of real fruit in there that it does not need to be kept cold. This makes absolutely no sense. 
5. The yolk in hard boiled eggs: I can't even handle it as a deviled egg. It is just this yellow-y powder-y clump of weirdness. I just can't bring myself to look at it.
6. Bananas in fruit salad: To whoever does this: why? Weird, mushy, browning banana all up in my fruit salad? No thanks.
7. Nuts in my dessert: If I wanted to eat some peanuts, I would just eat them. Plain and simple. But when I want to eat dessert, I want my ice cream, cake, cupcake, or whatever, to not include nuts. Stop it. Just stop.
8. Bugs: I understand that there is a lot of protein in those little critters, however, unless you are planning on paying me, I am not going to touch them. I cannot stand them when they are alive, and I am not going to eat them when they are dead.
9. Brains and Cow Tongue: Lengua? No thanks. Brains? Nope. I ain't no Hannibal Lector.
10. Anchovies: Sdkafjnrnejnvosefnvs!!!!!!! In other words, YUCK! I'll stick to freshly caught fish that doesn't come in a can.

Rihanna Wrote a Song About Drugs.

So the other night I was stretch-dancing to Rihanna's song Stay in my zumba class, but was completely distracted by her lyrics. I always thought that this song was actually about drugs, but now I have proof. I am going to prove my point by taking you on a lyrical journey through her entire song, pointing out where either the drugs or God (sung by Mikky Ekko) make a musical appearance.

All along it was a fever:
A cold sweat hot-headed believer
Like, seriously. That fever is the withdrawal from all that Molly you have been popping with Miley. 

                    http://rollingout.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/Rihanna-Coachella-Drugs-3-001.jpg

I threw my hands in the air, said, "Show me something,"
He said, "If you dare, come a little closer."
Oh my gosh RiRi, you can't get everything you want just by throwing your hands in the air and flipping out on poor Mikky Ekko, your drug dealer. And girl, you better watch out. I am pretty sure that was a threat he just made.

Round and around and around and around we go
Oh now, tell me now, tell me now, tell me now you know.
Please don't tell me he just hit you and your head is all spinning around in circles. Well, I did warn you that he was threatening you when he dared you to come closer to him. Also, asking him to tell you where the drugs are isn't going to change anything. That fool is still cray.

Not really sure how to feel about it.
Something in the way you move
Makes me feel like I can't live without you.
It takes me all the way.
I want you to stay
Well now you've done it RiRi. You have officially been hooked. Ain't nobody got time foh dat!
You are gonna need some serious rehab if you want to get out of this mess without touching lips with death. You do not want the drug to stay. It's a liar and a cheater and abuses you, just like your ex-boo!!

It's not much of a life you're living
It's not just something you take–it's given

RiRi, You better start listening to Mr. Mikky! That dude may be a drug dealer, but he knows what life is all about. This is also where I think God totally takes over Mikky's body and is all like, "Rihanna. I gave you that life. Don't you dare go taking it away with that Molly shit."

Round and around and around and around we go
Oh now, tell me now, tell me now, tell me now you know.
There goes Mikky again, acting like a fool. Dude, hitting women is not ok. Hitting anybody is not ok! Why you gotta do her like that?

Not really sure how to feel about it.
Something in the way you move
Makes me feel like I can't live without you.
It takes me all the way.
I want you to stay.

I think I can honestly say that God is still inside Mikky's body. If this really were God, this is what all this mumbo jumbo means:
"Hey RiRi..sooooo I know you like this drug Molly and all, but you're becoming a bit of a crackhead. I don't really know how to feel about this, since it makes you move all weird and you look like you might be about to have an overdose. You're just so vulnerable and it makes me feel like I can't live without you, buuuuuuuut, I can't bring you heaven looking like such a hot mess. So, I want you to stay and figure your shit out before you see me again."

Ooh, ooh, ooh, the reason I hold on
Ooh, ooh, ooh, 'cause I need this hole gone
(RiRi is singing again) 
Rihanna, you're running out of excuses. Either you get help and figure out how to fix your "hole" or you're gonna be seeing paradise a lot sooner than you should.

http://www.blogcdn.com/slideshows/images/slides/212/638/1/S2126381/slug/l/screen-shot-2013-12-30-at-7-32-29-pm-1.jpg

^^^I can't even^^^

Funny you're the broken one but I'm the only one who needed saving
'Cause when you never see the light it's hard to know which one of us is caving.

I am pretty sure God has left the scene of the crime and it is now just RiRi and Mikky the drug dealer. I don't really know what is happening right now, but I'm pretty sure they are in a face-off singing battle of some sort. 
From Rihanna's perspective, she is all like, "You are calling ME broken!? You are the broken one! You've never seen the light the way I have! I have seen God! It might be hard to tell which one of us is caving, but if I am being honest, it's you."
From Druggie Mikky's perspective: "You are calling ME broken!? You are the broken one! Girl, all you do is see the light! Fool, I may pretend that I don't know which one of us is caving, but I am also a liar. I' a drug dealer. This shouldn't surprise you.

Not really sure how to feel about it.
Something in the way you move
Makes me feel like I can't live without you.
It takes me all the way.
I want you to stay, stay.

I want you to stay, oh. 

Man, they must love working through their problems via singing, because this whole last part is a duet. 

Welcome to the Judgment "Free" Zone

The other day I was made aware of the story about a woman at a Richmond Planet Fitness being asked to put on a shirt because her toned body was intimidating other people in the gym (Gym Tells Woman to Cover that Sh*t Up). Yes, it is true that her outfit was not following the dress code, however, I have witnessed people wearing far more ratchet clothing than what she was wearing.

Above pictured is the woman who was apparently too fit to function. Below is an example of a sign at a planet fitness, stating their dress code.

I would personally like to point out something wrong with this image. Planet Fitness has a motto to be a "judgment-free zone," yet at the bottom of this image it is written "all subject to our judgment." Uhmm, huh?? Were they on drugs when they wrote this? Is this a joke? 

Going back to toned and tanned Tiffany up top, at the Vallejo Planet Fitness, part of their dress code does include that spaghetti strap tank tops are not allowed, along with the same regulations as the ones in the above image. 

Let me give you a list of different outfits I have seen while working out at good ole Planet Fitness, none of which include spaghetti strap tanks:

1. Men and women wearing pajama pants. I'm not even talking about the plaid pants or those sweats that bunch at the ankles. I'm talking about those fleece pajama pants that come out at Christmas time and have football team logos plastered all over them in ways similar to a teenager having a massive acne breakout. Sure, they may seem comfortable, but you look ridiculous.
2. Crocs. First, those shoes should be illegal. Like, wow. That's a nice pair of Crocs, said no one ever. Crocs should never be worn, but if you are a person who owns them, I suggest they only be worn in your house, on Halloween, or if you are going dumpster diving. 
3. Men and women wearing pajama pants AND Crocs. This is like a double threat. Please reconsider your wardrobe choices. Ladies and Gentlemen, I am not saying that you should get all dolled with your makeup and hair done. With that being said, you need to invest in some shoes with laces.
4. Women wearing their hair down. Honey, this is not a club. Put your hair up. This really bothers me (this was more of a personal one). You may think you look like Beyonce, running on that tread mill and shaking your hips to whatever song you're listening to, but you don't. You look like a hyena having a seizure. 

Out of all these four things, I have never seen any of these people being told that they needed to change. I find nothing wrong with this woman wearing ACTUAL workout clothes to, guess what? Work out! What I do have a problem with is people looking like a hot mess and wearing sleep wear to exercise. This is not a bed and breakfast, this is a gym people!

I would also like to say that I still continue to exercise here, but the prices are really low and I am a poor, starving college student.

     

The Girl Who Loved the Rain

School sucks, but at the same time, it is the best thing that could have ever happened to me. On one side I'm like, "Hey! I get to meet new people, learn new things, and gain valuable 'real world' experience!" On the other side I'm like, "Oh dear God, why are you doing this to me?"

School provides so much stability and structure, which everyone could use a little more of, however, it prevents me from doing what I truly desire. What is this you ask? Writing. 

Writing is a way of giving me an escape from reality. I can type (or write) for hours on end, yet it will seem as if only minutes passed. A hectic school life combined with a part-time job (which I love) can sometimes prevent me from writing. My motivation can be lost in the waves of equations and papers I have to write, which of course,  limit my incredible creative mind. This past semester has been particularly difficult. Long gone are the days where I can wake up, smell the roses (more like coffee), and gently put my thoughts into action.

Although this problem will most likely stick with me through adulthood, it is something I can fix. I can make more time for myself. How did I come up with this fabulous idea? Let me tell you a little story about a fictional character I dreamt of, then forced myself to write about.

She was drenched. Covered in rain water, her tears were hidden as she walked the rocky path alone. Emptiness was all she felt, which only made her feel more alone. She carefully walked around puddle after puddle, each which only grew larger as she walked down the broken road. Thoughts constantly poured into her mind as she thought of her failure. Everything she loved had been lost and all she felt was empty. All she wanted was to once again, feel fulfilled. Suddenly she stopped as she peered down below her at yet another puddle. Looking at her own reflection, she saw her face. Although the rain covered her pain, she still knew it was there. After what felt like hours of staring, she jumped. Splash! 

Water from the puddle she jumped into flew out in every direction and flowed further down the road. She jumped and tore at this massive puddle until nothing was left but a few drops of water. 

Looking back down, she no longer saw her reflection. Instead, she saw a new beginning. She saw an opportunity to fill this puddle up with water on her own, and rewrite how she would see herself.

The rain halted to a light mist as she looked up at the sky and smiled. The girl dried her face and began her journey back up the path, for she was no longer alone and feeling empty. 

This is a brief encounter I had with a dream, where I realized something. It is up to me to find my motivation to continue doing what I love most. If I let things get in the way of this, I will always have a sense of emptiness. I will always feel that something is missing. Until I take charge, I will always be fighting the world instead of us working together. 

Emptiness is no longer an option, but fulfillment is.

Kany West is A Very Mean Man

Every now and then a lightbulb sparks over my head and I have a feeling that whatever I write will be the most popular post yet.
Then I started to think about my "Kanye West is A (Insert Bad Word Here)" post. Don't worry, I still think he is a (Insert Bad Word Here). But I don't think I justfied the situation. In fact, I think I was too nice, and at one point, stooped down to his level with all of the cursing and whatnot.
I am going to fix this. Today, I am going to be writing "Kanye West is A Very Mean Man."

To do this, I will give a list of valid reasons.

Reason Number 1: The basics. Interrupting Taylor Swift. Why? Just why? Why is it so hard for Kanye to hold his tongue? Right now, I am imagining what Kanye's life would be like if he never pulled that move. People might even like him. He could even have T-Swift fans at his concert.

Reason Number 2: Naming his child "North West." What is she, an airplane? You don't have to give that poor child a name like that. Hell, I have no idea if that baby is a boy or a girl, and with a name like that, (s)he is going to suffer the consequences of Kim and Kanye's emotional relationship. Kanye, believe it or not, there are other names out there that can be both unisex and flattering. Geesh. Get with the program.

Reason Number 3: The sex tape he made with Kim Kardashian. Nope. I am not confusing him with RayJ. Have you seen his music video that Kim is in?! HashtagPORNO. Did he forget he has a child and that one day that child will see it?! And what will (s)he think about that?! That poor North West will be so embarrassed.

Reason Number 4: He thinks that his success and "fame" means that he lives a dangerous life. So dangerous, that he does not understand why those in the military feel that their job is more dangerous than his rap career.

Reason Number 5: Most obviously, he has an attitude problem. I guarantee that if he ever turned to a religion and found peace and turned over a new life and blah, blah, blah, I would not believe him. He is a born liar with some serious tude.

Reason Number 6: He thinks his music is greater than it actually is. I think he is only famous for the songs he is featured in.

• The Bounce by JayZ
• Ni**as in Paris by JayZ
• Swagga Like us By T.I.
• American Boy by Estelle
• Forever by Drake
• Run This Town by JayZ
• Knock You Down by Keri Hilson
• E.T. by Katy Perry

Ok. Maybe he does have a few songs that are decent, but I do not think any of them are as good as the ones he is featured in.

Reason Number 7: He has no soul. He's probably the anti-christ. The picture below speaks for itself.

In conclusion, I think I did a rather decent job at explaining why Kanye West is perhaps, not the best role model for children and should just go hide under a rock with Crazy Kim.

I've Got the Moves Like Jagger

Throughout the past year, I have made it a point to be more conscious of how often I exercise and of making healthier life choices in general. At the end of my last semester, I had one unit open. Opportunity had arisen for me to take a Zumba class on Tuesday nights from 615-730. I thought, what the hell, I can't be the worst dancer in there. It's just a bunch of hip shaking and booty working, mixed in with some arm movement. I would like to clarify that I was in fact the worst dancer in that room, or at least on the top ten list.

Let's being with reason number one why I was awful: lack of coordination. Everyone moves their feet to the left and my hips move left with the class, but my arms and legs are telling a different story. I swear it was like a Footloose parody watching me attempt to gain rhythm in my life. Have you seen that movie Napoleon Dynamite? Do you remember his dance number? Yep. That was me (Napoleon Dance Scene Aka: Madison's Dancing Skills). I wish I were exaggerating. I kid you not when I say that I looked just like Napoleon. Even in the facial expressions. You know, the mouth slightly open as your lower jaw drops and your eyes begin to droop because you're so focused on the moves and keeping up with the teacher and the rest of the class.

This brings me to reason number two: there were mirrors everywhere! You had no where to hide from yourself. I am my own worst distraction. I constantly got distracted looking at my reflection as I am unsuccessfully trying to master the art of Zumba. At some points I looked like a fish out of water, flapping around and gasping for air. When I say this, I don't mean that I was out of breath. I mean that I looked incredibly ridiculous. Let me tell you something. I was the best at being the worst. And my hips don't lie. I know this because I could see them in the mirrors all around me.

The third and final reason as to why I was awful: I should be great. I'm Hispanic. I should have that salsa rhythm and that extra spice when moving. Nope. Definitely didn't happen. I was more like the man in this video: White Man Can't Dance (And Neither Can I). You are going to want to click that link. It honestly is the most accurate description of my skills.

I also had no clue that Zumba included so much jumping. For those of you who don't know me, I have rather large boobs. I wear two sports bras because of this, and I think I might see a third one in my near future. I don't think I can take the pain that my chest had to endure from all that jumping yesterday.

Overall, I had a wonderful time. I think my lack of Zumba experience and rhythm really added some uniqueness to the class, that would otherwise be missing without me there. People in this class should start thanking me. I have blessed them with both entertainment and comical performances for roughly and hour and a half. Every Tuesday night. You're welcome, fellow classmates.

Things that don't make sense to me.

Things that don't make sense to me:


1. I keep seeing all these recipes on Pinterest about "calorie free desserts." Ummm isn't that just a fancy term for water? And what about low calorie-guilt free cupcakes?! Let me tell you something. I don't eat cupcakes very often. So if by chance I decide to eat a damn cupcake, you better believe I'll be eating all the guilt that comes with it.

2. Fruit salad as a dessert option. I can understand if you want something sweet and you are all your dinner but don't want to take in all the sugars of a cake or pie or cookies. That makes sense to me. BUT, if you are out to dinner and you look at the dessert section on the menu and you see a fruit salad, I would run. Run fast. It's a trap.

3. I like eating healthy. I like how I feel refreshed and not like a spud who has been soaking in a deep fryer for the past 45 years. With that being said, I can't stand it when I'm grabbing a bag of lettuce from the grocery store and there is a list of ingredients where I can't even pronounce half of the items listed. Long gone are the days where "spinach, carrots, and mixed greens" were the only words on the ingredient list. AND, if I want the bag that says just that, I have to pay an extra $3. Who do you think I am? I had to look under couch cushions to find the change that paid for the cheap bag of "lettuce." What makes you think I can afford an expensive one??

4. I don't understand why I never hear about certain people getting punched in the face. If I think you're annoying, chances are everyone else will think that too. So why hasn't anyone ever dealt with your annoyance by giving you a little love tap to the face? Someone needs to serve those people a tall glass of fruit punch!

5. Lastly, I don't know why it's been almost a month since I last played Cards Against Humanity. That game is legit. Where else can you sit around a table with your family and read cards out loud that have profanity written all over them and have it all be deemed acceptable? Hashtag, who is coming over next week to play?!
Just kidding, I don't own the game. But I do have Apples to Apples and some popcorn.