The Years I Wish I Could Forget

I don't know why my parents didn't ground me for the entirety of middle school.

Not because I was bad: I didn't sneak out after they went to bed (my window wouldn't open), I didn't steal beer from the fridge (it tasted like pee) and I never skipped class to go hang out at the Braum's next door (don't like ice cream).

But I was freaking embarrassing. 

It wasn't just me guys, you were embarrassing too. 

We all were. There must be some chemical unbalance that happens when you're in middle school that makes you say/do/like the most embarrassing things. (I suppose it's called puberty) 

Why I would never be friends with my 8th grade self:

1. I loved Good Charlotte. 

Lifestyles of the Rich and the...Stupid.

I like to think of myself as someone who has a good taste in music. These were the dark days of my life. When I say I loved them, I mean, I loveddddd them. And what does someone do to show their love for someone? AIM Screen name: XvGC_Evil_QueenvX. My friends parents even drove us to Denver to see one of their concerts. I bought a shirt at the concert and immediately put it on. (I threw up in my mouth of embarrassment after I typed that).

2. I was an avid Xanga-updater. 

I suppose my blogging days started early. Technically, this is exactly a Xanga, I'm just not abusing it which the emo musings of an 8th grader. Some of my Xanga names (not exact, because they are still online) Beautiful Despair. Another Emo Pirate. and The Raven Nevermore. Just to embarrass myself farther, here are actual screen shots of my Xanga.

3. I took my Buddy Info way too seriously.

I treated my AIM Buddy Info like a resume. It changed sometimes daily, with different colors and quotes reflecting my mood. Sequoyah Middle School had a trend of posting your "Top 5's" on your Buddy Info, or, the top 5 people you liked most that week (I rarely made it on anyone's Top 5s)

Mine usually went as follows:

tOp FiVe <333 p="p">

1. John

2. Garret

3. *****

4. ?

5. Chase

Now, #3, I was obviously too embarrassed to type the name, but I did give the correct amount of stars for each letter! 

And of course, I don't like Chase enough for a number 4 spot, so that remains a question mark.

4. I shopped in a cave.

I'm pretty sure the designer of Hollister made it so dark in there so that when you bought their clothes, you didn't realize how shitty they were until you got home.

5. I legitimately used THIS link:

Away messages were definitely the first Tweets. You had to be concise. 

You could be funny:

You could be coy:

Or you could be deep:

So remember readers, next time you complain about seeing your 8th grade cousin post a selfie of her biting her lip with a caption that says "ughh no makeup :/ all natural!" Just remember:

We all were there once.

Live simply..as an 8th grader.

My Life: Law and Order SVU

My dad is a Murderer Hunter.

Think of The Crocodile Hunter, but replace the crocs with rapists, murderers and drug lords. He doesn't wear all khaki like Steve either, although I'm sure he would if he could.

My father's actual title isn't as flashy--"Fugitive Investigator and SWAT Team Captain" doesn't quite roll off the tongue.

You know that guy who's on the Dos Equis commercial? The Most Interesting Man in the World? A'int got nothin' on Scott Cannon. Who else has Cop and Cupcake Bakery Owner on their resume? I swear he could be a comic book super hero. Cupcake Cop: catching criminals by day and making cupcakes by night.

Talk about contrasting Facebook posts.

What I've Learned Living with a Cop:

1. His life is like Law and Order SVU episode: Growing up, my bed time stories consisted of two things: Monster Stories where I saved the day (and my brother peed himself from fear) and Bad Guy Stories. I was so interested in my dad's day-to-day life that I would ask him what bad guys he caught that day. It varied anywhere from hostage situations to tear gassing a wanted rapist. Now that I have moved out and grown up, I get the majority of my stories from his Facebook or text messages.

2. I still hold on to the fact that I could be in witness protection program: When I was in 4th grade, I read a book about a girl who was put in the Witness Protection because of her dad's job. From then on, I honestly thought that I was going to be Mary-Kate and Ashley in Our Lips Are Sealed. I even had my alias name picked out...Whisper. Yes, Whisper. (Why, young Maggie? WHY?)

3. I have a plan for any situation: My dad's job scares the shit out of me. It makes me believe that at any point of time, on any day, in any place I could and/or will be murdered/kidnapped/beatenup/soldintoprostitution. It happens people. But don't worry, I've been trained. I look for the Emergency Exits everywhere I go and consistently map out escape plans for the most ridiculous of situations. One time in class, a guy walked in during the middle of lecture and I was convinced he was a campus shooter. I legitimately scooted my chair back and began getting under my desk. He was the IT Guy there to fix the projector.. 

4. Catching murderers makes you really just a little bit overprotective: My bus stop was 6 houses down from my house one year and my dad called the Department of Transportation to have them drop me off at my driveway. I called my dad each day after school. One time I got lost driving in Guthrie and 20 minutes later I see my dad's cop car, red and blue lights flashing, on the side of the highway ready to escort me home. 

5. If I was Taken, everything would be okay: My dad would go Liam Neeson on a foreigners ass if they ever attempted to sell me into a European sex trade. Then after he was done, he would go bake a dozen Red Velvet cupcakes. 

6. Murderer Hunters are real people too: My dad doesn't just live for tazoring drunk Indians. He loves the little things in life. Like nature: 

Just goes to show you readers, just because you've shot and killed someone doesn't mean you can't 

Live simply. 

OU, what were you thinking?

I tried cheerleading once.

It was more of a social thing--my friends were doing it, and wanting to seem cool, I signed up . And yes, readers... if they would have jumped off a bridge, I would have followed.

I think the moment I realized it wasn't for me was about 13.7 seconds into the first warm-up exercise: stretching. I'm not sure where my development went wrong biologically, but I must be missing some sort of ligament or tendon or brain cell that doesn't allow me to touch my toes. It just won't happen.

So cheerleading didn't work out.

But don't worry readers, I found my niche somewhere--it just wasn't on the sidelines of the football field.

So last weekend when I found myself on the sidelines of OU's stadium in front of 82,000 people with a crown on my head and a sash across my dress, I was a little confused.

And frankly OU, I was a little disappointed. Dorky girl wins Homecoming Queen was soooo 1990s. I mean, the least you could have done was had Freddie Prince Jr. make an appearance and say it was all a bet, but he actually learned to care for me during the process. You can't start the stereotype and then not follow all the way through.

I like to chalk it up to good luck and good friends.

So thank you, voters. Thank you for choosing to ignore these qualities in me:

The fact that this is my current background on my phone.

 That even with our heads cut off, it's obvious which one I am based on melanin content.

1. That I put panty hose on my face. 2. That I allowed someone to photograph it. 3. That I allowed them to post it to social media and 4. That I just posted it to my blog. 

Honestly, I find it very hilarious comforting that someone like me can be chosen to represent the university and I am very confused honored. I thought the crown would change me, but obviously not...because I apparently grabbed my boobs on national television. 

I didn't know, okay?

Some things never change. 

Why I Can't Leave Facebook Behind

You know that friend that you really don't like that much? They may be rude or annoying or just plain mean, but for some reason you just can't stop being friends with them? Maybe it's because they've been around for a long time. They've seen you grow from an awkward 15 year old all the way to an awkward 21 year old. You want to move on to bigger and better things, but there's something holding you back.


That friend is Facebook.

I know there are better friends in store for me than Facebook--friends that will treat me better, friends that are way cooler, more socially relevant and a hell of a lot less annoying. But. I. Just. Can't. Leave.

Facebook teaches me things and without it, well, I would be a lot less knowledgable of the important issues in life.

Without my friend Facebook:

How would I know which high school friends finally came out of the closet?

Some do it secretly. One day I'll be scrolling through my newsfeed and suddenly the quiet girl that sat behind me in English is kissing a girl in her photos. You sly fox.

Some do it openly. You know, the whole status update or the very ceremonial switch from interested in "Women" to interested in "Men." We all act like we are surprised, like the status and post the appropriate SO PROUD OF YOU!!!! comment. But really dude... you played with Barbies when we were in elementary school and I blatantly remember you one time you "jokingly" wearing my flapper dress in 8th grade.


How could I possibly know which candidate to support in the upcoming election?

Forget the news. I get my information from the most credible source on this planet. My Facebook friends. Preferably the ones without a college education and with the statuses containing the most grammatical errors and spelling mistakes. They're the true Americans.

How could I know what exactly my dad is up to at that very second?

My dad's Facebook has also given me an insight into what his interests and likes are..because he often uses them as his profile picture. Just to name a show a few of his recent profile pictures:

How could I possibly find my soul mate?

The old method of "love at first sight" is outdated. I think it should be changed to "love at first creepy Facebook message"

How could I realize that I will probably die alone?

Now as I'm getting older, I have seen numerous of my Facebook friends make the commitment of eternal love. These newly changed relationship status to Engaged has taught me one thing. The only thing I can be committed to at the current time is the Thursday night ritual of Vampire Diaries.



So you're welcome, Facebook. You are holding on to my friendship merely by a thread. And thank you in return. Thank you for the hours of endless entertainment (and self-confidence boosting material).

Readers' Costume Catastrophes

If I'm going to embarrass myself over and over again via blogpost, I am taking you all down with me. In my last blog post, I challenged my readers to send in their best, worst and most embarrassing Halloween costumes. After the overwhelming response, I've come to the conclusion that my readers are assholes.

Maybe that was too harsh. My readers are mischievous. Many of you threw your friends under the bus and instead of sending in your own photos, you sent in ones of your friends. 

So thank you, friends. Thank you for making me feel not alone in my awkward Halloween costumes. I originally was going to rank the photos I received from best to worst, buuuuutttt none of them are that good or impressive. Enjoy!

I'm sure sitting down in class was fun that day.

This may look like a nun to the untrained eye, but this girl from Virginia loves dressing up as her Pilgrim heritage. 

These costumes are quite the mystery, even to the person that sent the photo in. If I had to use my analyzing skills, the third costume is perhaps a Sexy Chesire Cat? 

I always thought Power Rangers glamorized racial stereotyping. I'm sorry, did the yellow ranger REALLY need to be Asian?

Chicken pedophilia is a serious problem in our society, and honestly, I don't appreciate these two making light of it with their costumes.

Cowboy never looked so gangster. This could be a mix between the scary twin girls in The Shining and Brokeback Mountain.

As you can tell from my array of costumes, I am a fan of cross dressing. These Napoleon Dynamite costumes will go down in history. 

It took me a while to understand exactly why these guys were dressing up like my Uncle Henry, but then I realized that they were going as the "Do The Creep" characters from SNL. Shortly after this photo was taken all three people were killed by that spider lurking in the background. RIP.

WATCH OUT. Jurassic Park is aiming to become the next Land Before Time and have about 14 sequels. In this adaptation, the T-Rex has gotten a lot less scary and a lot more fratty (see Sperry's) 

Someone help! Those bears have giant golden dinner plates stuck to their hands! 

I'm not sure where one finds a Shakespearean Romeo costume in the small town of Beaver, OK, but I guess it's possible.  

The minions from Despicable Me are a popular choice. The only thing I can focus on, however, is whether or not the one standing on the chair can legally be classified as a midget. 

Until next time. 

The Evolution of Awkwardness (Halloween Edition)

                                          

I’m not afraid to say it. I judge people.

            I like to think of it more as a 5-second analysis. It sounds more scientific like that. There is no more of that “don’t judge a book by its cover” bullcrap.

But don’t worry; it’s not a daily judgment. My entire basis of your personality, creativity, intelligence and contribution to humanity all comes down to one day, one outfit. Halloween.

Your choice in Halloween costume can be a direct correlation to the likelihood of our friendship succeeding. Choose wisely. One slutty cat costume and I may unfriend you on Facebook.

It’s really a simple concept. Halloween is on the same day, every year. It can never surprise you. It can never sneak up on you. You know it’s coming. Also, dressing up in a Halloween costume isn’t necessarily a new tradition. According to Wikipedia, which is ALWAYS right, Halloween costumes originated in the Middle Ages. The excuse that you “just didn’t know” can never fly with me.

College transforms Halloween. Long gone are the days of Trick or Treating. Instead of fairy princesses and witches, girls now just add the adjective SEXY to the beginning of any old costume and voila! Now you're a sexy witch. Heck, I'm sure some girls just wear what they wore for Halloween in 5th grade--the shorter and tighter the better. 

Last year at a costume party on Campus Corner I saw a girl wearing only bathing suit bottoms and suspenders cover her nipples. I kid you not. When questioned exactly whom she was supposed to be, she answered "Lady Gaga, duh." I'm sorry, girl. You looked more like a waxed Borat.  

So listen up readers. You have exactly 28 days to come up with the most epic costume of the century. Start now! Start early! Don’t come running to me the night before the big costume party and ask if I have a grey mini skirt so you can dress up like Hermione Granger at the last second. For starters, of course I don’t own anything with the word “mini” in it, unless it is followed by the words pizza or donut.

The Evolution of Awkwardness Halloween Edition:               

1992: A wizard? with a stank face?

1997: A vampire?

2000: Terrified Dorothy?

2002: A hippie? A homeless person?

2003: Annie Oakley? A wilderness lesbian?

2006: Samara from The Ring

This costume wasn't hard for me to put together. In 2006, The Ring came out in theaters which begun a life-long comparison to the terrifying villain in the movie, an 8 year old girl with long brown hair and pale skin. Sounded perfect for my very first boy-girl Halloween party. I mean, I looked scary. Real scary. Exactly like the girl. I even came prepared with a hand held squirt bottle to constantly have my hair soaked like I had just crawled out of the well like Samara. You know that scene in Mean Girls when Lindsay Lohan shows up as the Ex-Wife while everyone else are dressed as slutty animals? Well, that doesn't just happen in movies. 

2011: Honest Abe

2012: Not for Halloween, but can't pass up this Elvis costume

It's times like these when your life is put in front of you in pictures when you realize that something went wrong somewhere down the line. At some point my parents should have taken my hand and pulled me aside and said that girls were supposed to dress up as princesses and play with dolls. But then again, I would rather be Elvis than Nipple Suspender Girl any day. 

Tomorrow's blogpost will feature The Top 10 Reader's Costumes! 

Have any embarrassing/awesome/awful Halloween costumes? Send them to me at maggierhea@ou.edu to be featured on tomorrow night's blogpost! 

The Art of Avoidance

Time has never moved slower than those awkward 30 seconds while passing an acquaintance on an empty sidewalk.

We've all been there. You see them in the distance. It's just you and them and the looming dread of what's about to happen.  It's a moment of complete and utter panic. Your heart starts racing, your palms are sweaty, your mouth is dry. Time has completely stopped. It doesn't matter who they are: your professor, the girl you sat next to in Botany class, an ex hookup, someone you played with on The Stallions in 3rd grade soccer.

All you know is that you have to say hi.
Or do you?

When this happens to me, I feel as if I am out of some old Western movie. It's a shootout...but instead of drawing your gun to shoot, it's who is going to acknowledge the other's presence first.

It's a tricky recipe to get the timing down just right. We all handle this moment differently. Each is awkward. Each is uncomfortable. It's just a matter of life.

The Premature Hello: 

In a complete moment of panic, you wave...but way too soon.
When you fall victim to this awkward mishap, you have two options: continue to walk toward each other in complete silence or strike up some uncomfortable small talk to fill the void until you're out of each others sight.

The Distraction:

This one happens to be my favorite, not only because it's my specialty but also because you know exactly when someone else does it to you. It's like picking your nose...we all do it, but we just don't talk about it. Now, The Distraction is multi-faceted and varies with each user.

The Blind Texter: There must be some centripetal force in the world that makes people receive a very important text exactly at the moment you pass an acquaintance. Not just a "k" text or an "I'll see you soon" text, but a text so long and so important that you must look intently at your phone for AT LEAST 20 seconds and if you glance up, just for a moment, YOU MAY DIE.

The Tour Guide: You could be walking the same path you have walked every single day since the beginning of semester, but for some odd reason when you pass an acquaintance you suddenly are very interested in the Cherokee Gothic architecture of the Bizzell. It may be the 300th time you've passed Zarrow Hall, but you have never, ever noticed the unique way the shrubbery is perfectly parallel to the sidewalk. Nature has never been more beautiful.

The Trance: Usually you're very aware of your surroundings, but for some reason when you happen to pass someone you might know, you suddenly are in a trance. Now this trance is zombie-like. You're eyes are stuck completely forward in your sockets and they cannot move. All you can do it look straight ahead and keep marching on. I believe they call it tunnel vision, and it's usually accompanied with a life-threatening situation, but hey, people can die from awkwardness, right?

The Salvation: 

You've almost made it. Five more steps and the moment will pass. You've already pulled The Tour Guide move at the exact moment  your opponent became A Blind Texter...the coast is almost clear. But then it hits, that shred of humanity. That one moment when you realize that hey, maybe that girl in Botany class isn't so scary, or you think that perhaps one little greeting won't kill you. And you do it. Hey.

Now, it could go smoothly. You could be the coolest person on that side walk. Your acquaintance has never, ever heard someone say hey so charmingly, so debonair. They will write hey on your tombstone.

Wait, who am I kidding? Things never go according to plan.

The Aftermath:

The Silent Treatment: Perhaps what you thought was a confident and resounding HEY! actually sounded like a breathy grunt.  Even despite their close proximity they didn't hear your hey and didn't see your very obvious wave. But no worries, that random guy behind your acquaintance definitely saw you and now your tombstone will say CREEPY GUY THAT WAVES AT STRANGERS. Who's the dumbass now?

Now readers, perhaps you're not like the rest of us. Perhaps you are the coolest, most debonair person on that sidewalk, on ANY sidewalk and are confident in saying hello to whomever the hell you please. Congratulations. Just know, if we happen to cross paths on a lonely stretch of sidewalk, save me the trouble. Just yell out that you read my blog and you understand that the text message I'm reading really is very, very important.