I don’t know if it’s a joking-is-easier-than-acknowledging-something-uncomfortable thing or what, but I’m a little scared of people lately.
Several times in the past week, I’ve shared a story of street stalkers, bar creeps, and cat callers to a different person or group of people, and received very different reactions from each. One thing that scared me, however, was the general response from my male friends.
“What are we supposed to do?” “What do you expect?” “Well, that’s what you get for being a hot girl”
Now, I’m friends with good people. I associate myself with people I respect and enjoy, and these sentences without context seem pretty severe and unkind (to me at least, but apparently I’m in the minority here), whether purposefully or accidentally.
But seriously?
“What are we supposed to do?” WALK THE FUCK BY. You can check someone out and think all the nasty things you want, but are you so uncontrollably motivated by aggression that you can’t keep it to yourself? You don’t know what else has happened that day, that week, or over their life, and there’s no reason to push a stranger’s buttons.
“What do you expect?” This one is almost my favorite. What do I expect? This seems like women should expect men to be inconsolably unpleasant and degrading, captives to their testosterone and nothing more, and that you’ve accepted this as well, and that’s about the saddest thing for the future that I’ve ever heard.
“Well, that’s what you get for being hot…” Yeah? We’re going down this road? This feels like dangerous territory, entering into slut shaming and “asking for it.” One thing I will say is that nobody deserves to feel any shame for calling people out. Control and free will are nothing to be ashamed of. This is not any sort of request to watch what you say around women; changing relationships and walking on eggshells isn’t a solution. The point that needs to be acknowledged is that it shouldn’t be a reflex to slut-shame in the first place.
Nobody understands being a woman and you don’t have to, you just have to understand how to be a decent human person to the rest of your species. A good start would be to replace the offhand twistedly backhand compliment remarks with ANYTHING ELSE. There are less insulting ways of trying to compliment a girl than telling her she’s worth a stalk or a rape.
By calling people out on offhand reactions that aren’t okay, even just once, a thought is instilled in the mind of the uninformed, and a step is taken in the right direction.
Rather than teaching your kids not to go out late at night for fear of rapists and muggers and crazies (oh my), teach them that people shouldn’t attack people at any time of day. Teach them respect, for both men and women and personal humanity. Raising a new generation of genuinely good people, even if it’s just in your own family line, could change the world.
After a day of first-world torture and #problems, it can be hard to stay a sane, normal person. Here are 20 different ways to handle a bad day. They are most definitely not all recommended. Side effects are likely. We’ll begin with a classic.
2. Willingly accept rebellion into your life. Take a walk on the wild side.
3. Read a book. Or a magazine. Or an article online. For gods sake, read SOMETHING!
4. Angry-break things. Tear shit up. Throw down. Hitting things feels good, and admitting that is the first step of the road to recovery.
5. Florence.
6. Dance it out.
7. Bitch about it. And not in a classy way. In a way that not even yourself respects. Without justification, without reason, without having to answer to anyone. Sometimes you need a few moments where your words have no one to answer to except the universe.
8. Music therapy. Life’s a song, and sometimes it sucks dick.
9. Rise above. You are better than this bad day. Flip your hair, strut your stuff, and make tomorrow a real, real good day.
10. Just lose it. (Also: shaking your face like this feels way better than you’d expect it to.)
11. Watch cat videos. Or cat GIFs. Or Anna Kendrick GIFs. Or ideally, Anna Kendrick cat GIFs.
12. Eat your feelings. ALL of the feelings.
13. Smile and nod. Smile. And. Nod.
14. JUST CLOSE YOUR EYES, BREATHE, AND THINK OF FIGHT CLUB.
15. Exercise. It’s gooood for you.
16. Full-screen the GIF below. Maybe make it your background. Laptop, phone, everything. I suggest adding a sound loop, but that’s just me.
17. JGL.
18. Do something about it. If every day is a bad day, something’s off.
19. Admit the truth and accept it as a part of you.
Definitely go with Kat Dennings on this one. On most ones, actually.
And you get ready. It takes ages, not because you’re indecisive, but because you have SO many clothes, and they all suck.
By the time everyone shows up, your outfit frustrations have been downed by the pre-drink, and IT’S GO TIME.
Upon arrival at the bar,
As an all-girl troupe, you bitches stick together. Work together to fend off unwanted attention,
And celebrate with colorful shots. Or tequila.
Class will be demonstrated (as usual),
And ultimately, five topics will be discussed.
1) Work,
Where you can freely rant about The Work Bitch without the elephant/manager in the room. You are your own unreliable narrator, recounting your combative exploits to the world, without anyone really noticing any plot holes or exaggerations on your part. All the girls have to do is agree, pitch in some betchy sidebars, and wait your turn. Unless of course, this is a work girls night, in which case ALL cards are on the table, right next to the double shot glasses . Tread carefully.
2) Men,
Girls talk about guys and sex JUST AS MUCH as guys talk about girls and sex. It’s just different.
3) Bitches, girly shit, and self-acknowledgement.
Girls talk about girly shit. Honestly, there’s a lot of shit to cover. Stereotypically bitching about hair, makeup, periods, men, bitches, skin, shoes, clothes, shaving, and any of the other thirty thousand things that fall under the kind-of-misogynistic-but-relatively-justified topics of girly conversation. Realistically though, if a man had to hook a cage onto his chest every morning, squeeze and squish into the crap we wear on a daily basis (all the OPTIONS), and deal with monthly cramps and bleeding and baby scares, I’M SURE HE WOULD BITCH A BIT TOO BECAUSE IT’S A PRETTY DECENT SIZED ASPECT OF LIFE AS A GIRL SO QUIT JUDGING AND TAKE A DRINK.
Plus, acknowledging your decent into stereotypical GIRLSNIGHT! just makes it that much more beautiful. “Guys, we’re totally like aless-awkward Girls,only with like three Jessas and a Shosh. And like, a little bit classier.” I’d watch that.
4) Sex,
You know that one friend that’s like, really, really open about talking graphically and specifically about her sexcapades? She may get the ball rolling, but at girls night, it’s the surprise shares from your shier friends that make the memories. Those off-hand comments shouted juuuuust a little too loudly across the bar will make you closer than you ever expected. No judging!
5) Food.
Have you ever listened to drunk girls talk about food?
All it takes is an order of mozzarella sticks to turn a group of martini-ed ladies into a horde of ravenous vultures. Suck it up and order something, you’re drinking most of your calories anyway.
We’ll be brutally honest,
And we are free to bitch and moan about #girlproblems without #brotips.
As the movie began, there was no telling where it was going. Unless, you know, you read the book in tenth grade like half of the English-speaking world did (or read a Sparknotes summary online like the other half)…but nonetheless, it was the film’s stylistic intelligence that was unpredictable. It had the cinematic masterpiece quality that Luhrmann has perfected through his theatrical musical films like Moulin Rouge! and Romeo + Juliet, translated beautifully into an amalgamation of culture, sex, and hope that is The Great Gatsby.
The cinematography is pretty damn flawless, from the white-curtained introduction of Daisy Buchanan to the practiced presentation of Gatsby himself. The book was followed to a tee, for the most part, and translated shockingly well onscreen. The National Post called it “less a movie than an event,” and – without taking away from my respect and enjoyment of the film – that’s exactly right. Scott Fitzgerald wrote The Great Gatsby over three years, from 1922-1925. Luhrmann has been working on his production for roughly five years now, and the world has been waiting.
Call it “computer-generated whoosh” if you must, but its looks are pretty fucking epic. And underneath all of that, the novel stands tall. Much of the dialogue comes straight from Fitzgerald in 1925, and while I could have done without the fluffy skywriting sequences from Carraway’s alcoholic future, it wasn’t a bad way to lay out the movie. While much of the opening half of the movie is rushed brilliance and forced flow, its crazy atmosphere sucks you in.
Carey Mulligan’s dewy, soft complexion and gentle stature set up Daisy perfectly. Last played by Mia Farrow in 1974, Daisy is one of those controversial characters that stirs up a lot of conflict. Luhrmann cites Daisy Buchanan as “a kind of social supernova; she’s so attractive and dazzling, and she makes you feel as if you’re the only person in the world… In everybody’s mind they have a Daisy Buchanan. It’s like Scarlett O’Hara, how touchy a subject that is. I think of Scarlett as being this precious child star who’s been a star all her life, and that’s true about Daisy.” Luhrmann calls the Gatsby-Daisy relationship “one of those chemically dangerous relationships,” and there’s no better way to put it.
During the (long) audition process for the role, Leo, the fountain of all modern wisdom, said “Daisy has got to be a kind of hothouse flower, something that Gatsby has never encountered before, such that he feels and obsession to protect her.” Carey Mulligan does just that. She enamours you with her innocence and docile geniality, and wraps you up in her creamy speech.
Her voice is a major part of her character, described in Fitzgerald’s novel as “low, thrilling,” “exhilarating,” full of “fluctuating, feverish warmth,” and “full of money.” Speaking of full of money, she’s also married to the talented and delicious Marcus Mumford.
LOOK HOW PRECIOUS. Their children will be phenomenally ahead of our time.
Leo DiCaprio’s Gatsby was even better than I expected. He had perfect timing, an incredible measure of Gatsby’s delicate control and internal servitude, and was seriously fucking awesome. Granted, he’s pretty much got the world’s respect behind him before he even walks onscreen, but his Jay Gatz speaks for itself as well. You can feel the delusion, reminiscent of his tortured characters in Inception and Shutter Island, a balance of crazed obsession and classy-as-fuck confidence. Gatsby is a measured, detailed man of expectation, and DiCaprio is the same. He “burrows deep into the role, loosing the obsession at the heart of Fitzgerald’s tale; beneath Gatsby’s smooth exterior roil the same tightly wound furies that hounded DiCaprio’s Howard Hughes in The Aviator.
“If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about [Gatsby], some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life, as if he were related to one of those intricate machines that register earthquakes ten thousand miles away. This responsiveness had nothing to do with that flabby impressionability, which is dignified under the name of “creative temperament”- it was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again.”
It had the grandeur that you expect from Luhrmann’s musical past, the expansive, wide-angle, 3-D takeover that brings the film to life. If you liked Moulin Rouge, you’ll likely enjoy TGG. Bright, vivacious, and never lacking in depth, the setting and lush atmosphere worked perfectly to set the scene. The introductions to Tom and Jordan felt observed and far-away, like you were watching a piece of theatre, rather than cinema. Luhrmann explains his decision to make the film in 3D in the May 2013 issue of Vogue. After seeing a screening of Hitchcock’s Dial M For Murder, what struck him:
“…wasn’t that things come out of the screen, it was watching Grace Kelly move in space where the camera wasn’t moving. It was much more like the theater. It brought power to the performance. The actor was more in-control of the drama. The camera didn’t have to generate energy. It blew my mind… the real special effect in Gastby could be watching some of the finest actors in the world doing a ten-page scene in a room in the Plaza Hotel. That could be a visual effect.”
This was the first (and most epic) adaptation of Gatsby in several decades, and the book has often been dubbed “unfilmable.” Literature learned lessons from Gatsby,and continue to ’til this day. Film might be able to learn something too.
While the Jay-Z produced soundtrack may have taken some people out of the roaring Twenties zone they were in, I thought it was balanced perfectly. With big, power voices from Lana Del Rey, Florence, and Queen Bey, the power-pop side of the soundtrack shone. While “Young and Beautiful” might have finished the film as a slightly overused motif theme for Gaisy (looool), the jazzy mash-ups from Will.I.Am, Fergie, and Kid Koala kept it fresh and entertaining.
Leo was sublime, and Mulligan balanced beauty and carelessness as only Daisy Buchanan can. Jay and Daisy were casted to perfection, but I still can’t help but feel awkward about Tobey Maguire. Maybe it’s because even in 3-D, he has no visible lips. Maybe it’s because he’s Peter Parker. Either way, it took me out of the scene and I felt genuinely uncomfortable with his Carraway at parts. He just didn’t fit.
“Baz felt very strongly that the book’s nature was quintessentially modern, that the twenties was the time when everybody came to grips with the twentieth century,” said his wife, Oscar-winning costume designer Catherine Martin. Luhrmann takes that modernity to a new level with this visually-laden piece of work, and it deserves some respect. Five years, people. That’s time for like five babies. Or six. Or something.
A sick soundtrack, incredibly strong performances, and a decent rendition of a great American novel on the big screen… just go see it. It’s fancy and fun and exciting; you know you’re curious. 3-D or not, I seriously recommend catching this green light before it goes out.
Sure, it sounds dramatic. Anything that “changes your life” is going to sound dramatic, honestly, because it is dramatic. You’re changing your life. Everything is different now.
From the second you picked it up, you knew it was different. It flowed differently, it read to you. You couldn’t read fast enough, and as the pages flew by, you didn’t have a choice. You read it with feverish excitement, fierce engagement, and ferocity. You couldn’t wait to get to the end, but you can’t imagine it ending. And what happens after? The story just worked, and whether you were reading from a downtown subway car or under your bedsheets ’til dawn, it didn’t matter. You read breathlessly, with fervour, hanging off of each syllable, using the chapter breaks to catch your breath. You are a slave to this novel, mind, body, and soul, and there’s no use fighting it. It will steal your time, money, and brainpower, and you will accept it wholeheartedly.
The story envelops you as no story has since you were a child. The author knows exactly what you need; but how can they know you so well? This book will become a filter on your life, affecting everything you think and feel for all of time. You will feverishly seek out everything the author has ever written. The book came at the time that you needed it most. It’s not like it was the first book you’ve ever read, but this one had something different. Something memorable. Like your first pet, you feel a sense of commitment and maternal fondness that only grew with time. Like your first love, you feel an overwhelming sense of adoration and intimacy that takes you by surprise. Like your first time having GOOD sex, you can’t believe what you’ve been missing. Like your first time living on your own, the freedom is astonishing. You’ll wonder how you lived with so many rules for so long, and how you never noticed.
Books don’t talk back. They won’t use up all of your internet bandwidth, and they want nothing more than to be enjoyed. They seek no electricity, no nourishment, and they will never, ever ask you for your Wi-Fi password. They’ll never run out of batteries, and never ask of anything in return.
“The man who does not read has no advantage over the man who cannot read.” -Mark Twain
I’ve always felt that everything written is co-related. A major part of writing as a youth and young adult comes from what you write in school. We’re taught essay structure and planning. We’re taught to balance arguments and lead strong, life lessons that passed most of us by because we were too busy hating high school English (compulsory English means 80% of the kids don’t want to be there, and the other 20% weren’t ballsy enough to fuel a decent academic environment). State your point, elaborate with your three arguments, and restate your point by the end. If the essay is good, you’ll understand their points. If the essay is great, those points will affect your course of thought. A great novel does the same. It changes your perception. It takes you out of your world and into another, one with ideas and frivolities and dangers that open your mind.
You will remember this book more than 99% of your high school, 80% of your first year of post-sec, and much of your childhood. It will find times to make you laugh, cry, and ironically show up when you need it most. It will torture you, punch you in the face, and throw you down an elevator shaft, only to meet you at the bottom with another swift kick in the teeth. And when you’re finished, it’s like the first day of summer. Where do you start next?
“A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one.” -George R.R. Martin
If you’re lucky, this book will start an inevitable change in your life, and you will unleash upon yourself the mind-blowing abilities of what it’s like to really be a lover of books. You will read so many stories of different places and people and times that your memories and your books will become entwined. You will become overcome with historical wanderlust, and you will begin to judge people on their taste in books (or lack thereof). As the digital revolution progresses, there will always be a small, nagging fear in the back of your mind that they will stop printing books altogether, but you quell that thought with another stockpile purchase from Chapters whenever it arises. You will learn that there is a right timing for everything in life, especially books. You will catch yourself buying a second copy of your favourite book so you can freely wear out the first one without guilt. You will fall in love with books in a way that changes everything else in your life and makes falling in real love even more extraordinary. Welcome to Crazy, we love it here.
“Do not pity the dead, pity the living, and above all those who respond “I don’t read,” to the question “What’s your favorite book?”
I’ve been trying to write something about Girls for a while, but I got stuck. Being new to the show, it took a few episodes to grow on me, but being so invested in television production and attentive to writing, I grew to respect it. It did have the raw, intimate look at “real” life, and not coincidentally – creator Lena Dunham writes most of the episodes based on real-life experiences (from the dick pic in Hannah’s Diary and the tattoo on her ass, to the gay-ex-boyfriend storyline). But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Girls is a dramadey TV series on HBO. If you haven’t watched it yet, whether by pure laziness or lack of interest, you’ve probably heard of its growing infamy. The awkward sex, the blunt honesty, and the total ridiculous reality of the [sex] lives of four twenty-something girls living in New York. A hipster-ized, technology-revolution-driven sex comedy from a female perspective. 90% of the credits are Lena Dunham’s name (director, star, exec. producer, etc), and it’s basically her baby.
It has the quirky honesty of Lena Dunham, the production and comedic style of Judd Apatow, and a team of hilarious cast and crew that have a million other little connections in movies and such (Dunham’s critically-acclaimed indie flick Tiny Furniture is basically a movie precursor to Girls, and available on Netflix, FYI), so what could go wrong? It’s basically an updated Sex and the City meets Curb Your Enthusiasm. The show does a lot of improv and on-the-fly bits, it’s been famed for its awkward, make-your-skin-crawl sex scenes, accused of being just another rant in the self-affirming writer generation, and been called too racy, too white, too fat, too sexist, too hipster, too privileged, too WASP, too unscripted, and some of those things may be true.
The protagonist, Hannah is flawed. Dunham calls her a mix of “natural intelligence and improbable stupidity,” which is pretty damn accurate. “She has the youthful mix of self confidence, but like, no self worth.” The real-life, improv-y soul of the show is where its unique appeal manifests. She uses her real father’s handwriting in the show, eats real food without a spit bucket, and builds bathrooms on sound stages. But Hannah is different than Dunham herself, a distinction people forget to make.
Hannah is entitled, presumptuous, and selfish.
She’s sarcastic and inappropriate.
She makes horrendous decisions, and overreaches her expectations.
Some of her flaws are endearing and relatable,
“My shoes match my dress! Kind of!”
And some of her flaws are cringe-worthy.
But she’s honest,
And everyone can find someone to relate to:
Following suit, Dunham has rarely kept her mouth shut regarding any matters at all.
On Rihanna and Chris Brown: “She’s had this amazing career, she’s won a Grammy, she’s talented, and then she gets back together with Chris Brown and posts a million pictures of them smoking marijuana together on a bed. And it cracks my heart in half in a way that makes me feel like I’m 95 years old. I just think about how many little girls are obsessed with Rihanna. [Being a role model] is a platform that you have to take seriously.”
On the Internet’s Anne Hathaway hatred: [via Twitter] “Ladies: Anne Hathaway is a feminist and she has amazing teeth. Let’s save our bad attitudes for the ones who aren’t advancing the cause.”
On Lisa Lampinelli’s “nigga” picture: [via Twitter] “That’s not a word I would EVER use. Its implications are beyond my comprehension. I was made supremely uncomfortable by it. Perhaps I should have addressed it, but the fact is I’ve learned that twitter debates breed more twitter debates. Don’t like the idea that my silence read to you as tacit approval. It wasn’t. But 140 characters will never be enough for the kind of dialogue that will actually help us address issues of race and class. My personal criteria for engaging twitter debate: I wait until something just sits so wrong in my belly & bones that I must finally speak.”
On Girls: “When you’re in your 20s, sex is sort of this battleground on which a lot of different stuff plays out.” It’s a show about life in your 20s, and sex is a big part of that. Granted, most of the time guys first kiss Hannah to get her to shut up, but their sexcapades are pretty hilarious.
Whatever you think of Dunham, she’s got a lot going for her. She recently signed a $3.5 million dollar book deal, Girls is one of the most talked-about shows on TV, and next season got bumped up to 12 episodes. Plus she’s gotten some decent action on the show post-Adam.
She did win two Golden Globes and all…
If you watch the commentaries and behind the scenes features, they’re hilarious, and give the show a lot more context. The commentaries with all four girls are like listening to any girl friends ever. They forget what they’re talking about, go on commentaries about bread, “shorty-half-up-half-down” hairstyles and shaving, buttholes, dreams, rhymes, food, and fight about looking good.
“I love her luggage, I want her luggage.” “You look good without mascara!” “I really think that’s the best my hair has ever looked.” “You just get the feeling that he would kill giants for you.” “Hey, fun fact, that belt was actually taped to my body.” “I want to have his comedy babies.” “This couch gave me a rash.” “That wasn’t a compliment, it was a statement.” “This scene makes my skin crawl, in the best way.” “Checking your own dick for the time is the worst thing a person can do.” They take you behind the scenes of sex scenes, toilet scenes, falling asleep during scenes, their favourite foods, and it’s seriously worth checking out.
“Today I had two gluten free cookies for breakfast then got back in bed, it was disgusting.”
“That sounds glorious.” (Girls Pilot commentary)
“Still, the most significant thing about “Girls” may be that it’s not a book, a play, a song, or a poem. And not a movie, either; since women rarely control production, there are few movies of this type, and even fewer that have mass impact. “Girls” is television… but it’s also TV in a more modern mode: spiky, raw, and auteurist. During the past fifteen years, the medium has been transformed by bad boys like Walter White and sad sacks like Louis C.K. “Girls” is the crest of… shows that are not for everyone, that make viewers uncomfortable. […] “Girls,” like Hannah, isn’t done: because it’s television, it’s being built in front of us, absorbing and defying critiques along the way. It lingers and rankles and upsets. Like any groundbreaking TV, it shows the audience something new, then dares it to look away. Small wonder some viewers itch to give the show a sound spanking.”
Lena Dunham is not perfect. Hannah Horvath is not perfect. Girls is not perfect. But why does it have to be perfect? We watch our favourite characters make stupid decisions, and it may drive you crazy, but we keep watching. So what if every character isn’t a good role model? Honestly, there’s really only one or two characters on Girls that I actually like and relate to. 90% of what Hannah does warrants a collective facepalm and hrrphms of frustration, but that’s what girls do. And that’s what Girls does. Characters, just like people, don’t have to be likeable to be enjoyable. The entire seventh season of Desperate Housewives is fuelled by 3/4 of the women making horrible, unbearably ridiculous decisions, and Grey’s Anatomy sees Meredith Grey steal a baby, and ruin her husband’s medical trial, in addition to dozens of other “WHATTHEF%@&AREYOUDOINGYOUSTUPIDBITCH” situations. But we watch the shows, and we hope they move past it.
We can see ourselves, the best and worst parts of us, and the people we know, in the people we reject or relate to on television. You can learn something about yourself through the characters you prefer over others. People are flawed, and while this may not be the most flattering interpretation of girls, guys, or people in general, it’s a damn good representation of their flaws. The guys are just as weird as the girls are (Ray has been known to be an outlet for Apatow), and just as ridiculous.
Dunham knows what she’s doing as a storyteller, and her real-life inspiration and fetish for intimate bathroom scenes (the improv scene that opens the show in the first season, Dunham singing Wonderwall mid second-season) prove that whether or not she writes men and women properly, her voice is a fresh, different perspective that propels conversation.
I’ve decided I don’t think you really have to like Girls to like Lena Dunham, and you don’t have to like Lena Dunham to like Girls. You don’t even have to like Girls to respect it as a movement. Television is a tool for storytelling, and the stories don’t have to be your stories to be relatable.
This usually lasts for short, sporadic periods of time in between other 9 people on this list. Enjoy it while it lasts. Bask in it, and remember how good it feels to be productive.
2. The Summer Fanatic.
Festival lineups, summer tour announcements, the changing weather, spring can bring a lot of distractions, and the Summer Fanatic lives for this. You thrive upon new announcements, and while most lineups are out, schedules and ticket sales are still in full swing. Social media for the next three months will serve one major purpose, and that is anticipation. You’re following all the festival info pages, checking out contests and basically living in a shell of procrastination until flip-flops become seasonally acceptable once again.
3. The Napper.
Just sleep, it’ll actually be spring eventually.
4. The Jumped-The-Gun-On-Shorts Guy.
It’s still too cold for shorts. It is still a one-digit temperature. You still need a jacket. You still need pants. Granted, sometimes you get caught out for the day in an outfit that you planned based on the weather (these days, you have no idea what to expect), which usually never ends well in these transitory seasons. But usually, if it’s still March, and it’s still under ten degrees, IT IS STILL TOO EARLY FOR SHORTS. Honestly, it’s just upsetting. I can’t wear shorts, so why can you? It’s too cold. Stop it.
5. The March Break Complex Guy.
Whether your school gives you a March break, Spring break, reading week, whatever, it’ll probably fall at a different time than others (surrounding colleges and universities, high schools, etc). Yes, it’s going to be annoying, seeing warm, sandy, beach spam all over your Instagram. Yes, it’s really upsetting that everyone on your Facebook is out for a week, spending their parents’ money and taking family-funded vacations while you’re rolling in debt and midterms/finals/assignments, but you do get out before May, and the high school kids, at least, have got two more months to go. Plus, remember how EARLY you used to get up, like, every day? It still blows my mind that high-school-me had that initiative.
6. Depressed.
You will never get all this shit done. Why even bother? You hated half your classes this semester anyway, why are you even in school to begin with? The government is overcharging you. Your bank is overcharging you. Corruption runs our country. Fuck school. School is for fools. Edison didn’t go to school, right? And he’s fine. He’s allllll good. I’ll just invent something. Like a lightbulb, or ketchup packets.
7. The Admittedly Unproductive/Procrastinater Guy.
You know you’re not getting anything reeeeally accomplished today, but it’s cool. You’ll get there. These things take time. And other things. Like Internet, and cleaning. And basically anything.
8. The Cheerleader.
You’re almost there! Remember why you came to school in the first place? Yeah, there you go, positivity! You’re not wasting your money, you know it’s something you gotta do, and you’re almost at a finish line! Granted, one of many finish lines, most of which are paired with a punch to the gut that takes your wallet and your schedule and tears shit up with each, but you’ve got this, girl/bro/man/friend.
9. An actual student that has to actually write exams and words and functions.
Eventually, actual exam time will come.
10. Drunk.
Go ahead, use any money you’ve managed to accumulate this semester for a celebratory liquor feast. You did it. You made it one more year. Take advantage of your time off, whether it’s a few days before summer school, a few months before the fall semester, or whether you’re heading in another direction, take a moment and bask in where you’re at.
There’s one on EVERY street corner. I’m starting to develop a repulsion with eye contact. Eye contact means conversation, with these ones. For whatever reason, they do not read my impatient wheel-rolling in place and staring daggers at the crosswalk countdown as a “DO NOT TALK” sign. They do not see the giant set of proper headphones that encase my ears and entrap my wind-tangled hair. They do not sense my aura of rushed impatience and lack of time. They want to talk. About rollerblading and the weather and the traffic and current events and honestly, I am all for being social and engaging but there is a time and place and it is not while I am wearing wheels on my feet.
2. My roommates, and basically anyone I actually know.
I can’t stop particularly well, especially while I’m moving quickly, so when I encounter people I DO actually want to talk to, I usually whiz by before a) I can catch who they are, or b) words can be exchanged in any way. Plus, my music is loud enough to drown out people, but not cars, so I rarely talk on the way. (Have you ever rollerbladed to like, really, really good rollerblading music? It’s powerful shit.)
3. The wide-eyed foreigner that says nothing.
4. Pick-Up Line Guy
Oh man, it’s not even entertaining anymore. I am on wheels. I am wearing headphones. I usually am going somewhere, and I am often late. I am very sorry that you caught me at this inconvenient time, but opening with “Hey baby, roll on over here,” or “Check out the wheels on those heels” isn’t really improving your chances. Stop being creepy
5. The expansive wall of friends that feel compelled to walk in a line and take up the majority of the sidewalk.
6. The troupe of small children.
They’re almost too cute to be annoying, but if I catch the midday field trip rush, it’s not the easiest of paths to travel. It’s also incredibly distracting, if you live in a mind like mine, where “BABIES!” pretty much erases any other functional thought.
7. The really, really cute old lady that commends you on your initiative.
Exceedingly different from The Inquisitive Guy, The Really Cute Old Lady is just too cute to complain about. Although, she does eat up a few seconds of forced conversation through my headphones that I really didn’t want to have to wait for.
8. The wasted guy/girl/group.
Okay, there are certain streets I don’t take on Friday and Saturday nights. And when these people find their way onto the main roads, there’s not much I can do. The packs grow as the night goes on, people get really impressed, really easily (apparently a pair of roller blades makes you the centre of the drunk-people universe), and they pretty much stop moving.
9. The guy that moves out of the way, the wrong way.
I am not just being picky. If you’re going to move out of the way of a rollerblader, PLEASE, look where you’re walking, and don’t leave the cobblestoned, cracked side of the pavement for the girl on wheels. I can manage weaving through people alright, but when people unpredictably jump in and/or out of the way, it doesn’t end well. For an accurate depiction of the sidewalks of Queen Street West, please see the GIF below.
10. Everyone.
Rollerblading downtown is really stressful. It’s like Mortal Kombat mixed with Mario Kart, but the bombs are cars and the chance boxes are traffic lights and the coins are potholes and the rainbow road is actually all gravel even though it looks alright at first, and the mushrooms are hobos and the other cars are everywhere and it doesn’t really help that I don’t know how to stop.
1. Everyone with headphones in is listening to One Direction.
That guy with the dreads walking with a limp? Yup. The Jon Hamm lookalike you pass by on the way to work? Yup. The bitter bus driver with a stick up her ass? Yup. Seriously entertaining.
2. Celebrity Match-Up
From the son of Geddy Lee and Paris Hilton I saw at the grocery store, to the hybrid daughter of Daniel Radcliffe and Julia Roberts that lives on my block, I love calling people out on who they kind-of-sort-of-might look like, especially when you find the really, really accurate ones. It doesn’t have to be offensive, it doesn’t even have to be based on looks or clothes or anything that makes sense, it’s your game. The other day, someone told me I reminded them of a Lena Dunham-Jennifer Lawrence hybrid. I don’t know how well I handled it.
3. Animal sounds.
Pretty much just a game of subtle offensive comments, this works best in a loud area where you can be… not heard. Make the sounds of the animals that would represent the passersby. Most accurate wins. Extra points for realizing most animals make a similar eoiuertyoiwuehakjbvausd sound.
4. Narrate conversations you’re not close enough to hear.
Bonus points for narrating a couple’s breakup.
5. Wave at babies.
This may not be a game, but seriously, when the baby waves back and you remember how flusteringly adorable tiny people are, and you turn into a pile of smushy baby talk that pretty much consists of opening your mouth and saying “Hiiiiiiiii!!!!!!!” in varying volumes and levels of obnoxious glee… you’ll just feel better.
It’s like petting someone’s dog on the street corner. It just makes you happier. But definitely go with waving. Don’t touch people’s babies. They don’t like that.
6. Listen.
Play I Spy, but with sounds. Just take in the soundscape around you. You know catching bits of conversations out of context is funny, so try hearing more. You might catch something interesting.
Hearing actual breakups is even more fun that making them up.
7. Reverse shit-talk the world.
It’s really easy to sit on the patio and and rip on everyone that walks by, calling them names and making animal sounds. But it’s actually easier, and way more pleasant by the end, to discuss the positives of people. Her shoes, his jacket, the way they walk together. It’s easy to get caught up in your opinion of things, but seeing the diversity of humanity is awesome, and people-watching is where it’s at.
Tremors in Toronto 