Friday, August 30, 2013

Swift Justice

OMG! Special Friday edition of Pharon Square!!! It must be important, you may be thinking. It must be something well-worth the weekend read, you likely expect.

Sorry, this is just a post about Taylor Swift.

Besides the fact that Miley and her chicken butt (ha!) and gross tongue have been in the spotlight lately, one event from the VMAs recently caught my eye. It was Little Miss Perfect mouthing "Shut the $#%& up" to her pal Selena Gomez while one of her billion ex-boyfriends spoke on stage. I was annoyed.

Taylor Swift is everything at 23 that I was when I was 12. I was a flurry of extreme emotions, bouncing from boyfriend to boyfriend, constantly chasing the same thing over and over without realizing that it was my desperation, not mousey face, that was turning so many dudes off. I'd be depressed and elated 50 different times in 8 minutes and go chasing after bad boys despite the fact that my parents (much like her rep as a goodie-goodie) made it impossible to actually bag one.

Now that I'm older, I feel I should give Miss Swift the benefit of my wisdom. Why she never figured this stuff out in high school, I'll never know. But here's my biggest tip for Swift: Be an adult and raise your expectations and standards.

Here is why I say this. The following is a list of lines from her songs which are supposed to illustrate the magical moment or trait that made her fall for whatever completely replaceable blahfriend she happened to be into at the time. I swear, I wrote half of these exact phrases in my middle school diaries:

* I guess you didn't care and I guess I liked that
* I knew you were trouble when you walked in
* You make your way through the crowd and say "hello"
* He opens up my car door
* He says "you look beautiful tonight"
* You looked me in the eye and told me you loved me
* And you stood there in front of me
* You('re) doing your best to avoid me
* Your eyes whispered "Have we met?"
* I love your handshake
* You came in wearing a football helmet and said "Okay, let's talk."
* You open your eyes into mine and everything feels better

OMG. I have to stop. I can't read these TERRIBLE lyrics anymore. WAH WAH WAH. A boy said he loved you and turned out to be a dick. Big surprise, lady. You insist on fishing in a very shallow pool where all the fish are exactly the same.

But seriously, can you do us all a favor and stop falling for every d-bag who makes eye contact with you or breathes in the moonlight or ignores you or completes a polite gesture? Make the dude work for it, Swift. When I was 13, I was convinced a boy named Tony liked me because he loaned me a pencil. He did not like me. He was gay (seriously). Life lesson: Everyone who does something nice for you is not in love with you.

And consider the men you are attracting. Who the eff wants to date an emotional nightmare with access to a music studio? A person who, although very pretty, is hellbent on making every relationship end in such a way that she feels "ugly"? An ADULT who writes more about love stories and princes and fairy tales than a preteen girl at a Lisa Frank convention?

The answer, my dear, is social-climbing, fame-whoring idiots. And I swear, if you can't figure that out by now, I'm pretty sure it's your own fault. So put down the glittery pens and slumber party invitations and woman up. Stop complaining about how all your relationships end tragically and break the cycle. And PLEASE stop writing about the men who tell you they love you and don't mean it because it makes YOU look like a gullible moron. In other words: Shut the %&$@ up.

Monday, August 26, 2013

Teen angst

There is 100% nothing worse than a teenage girl. I've never raised one, but I WAS one, and it was a time of fiercely angry hormones, mean friends and just basically the worst time ever. I was reminded today of how much I loathe teenage girls today when I went to get my gel manicure removed. It was like 4 p.m. and I was in my gym clothes (Yes, I hate myself already) and I sat next to the anxiest (is that a word? According to spell check, no...but whatever) teenage girl on the planet.

She was probably 15 and she sat there, with her fancy little pedicure and manicure setting and then asked for a pillow for her back because their chairs were uncomfortable. Then this little twerp looked ME up and down as I sat next to her and goes "What, do you do yoga at CorePower?" And I got inexplicably intimidated by this girl. I mumbled "Uh, no. Just regular gym stuff." And seeing as how this level of "workout" wasn't in her milieu, she scoffed and went back to her dumbass phone with the world's most stupid phone cover.

See, teenage girls are dicks. For as self-conscious and insecure as they are, they are equally rude and bratty. I hate them. And I CAN hate them because I WAS one. I was a horrible, nasty, rude, bratty little girl like every other teenage girl on the planet.

But the difference is that now they don't even WANT to be teenagers. Suddenly being in the financial prime of your life (you don't need a job and you hopefully have zero bills) is not enough. Teenage girls have ridiculously decided to try and be, like, 22. Girls? I hate to break it to you, but 22 ain't all that. It's not all just pantsless raves and big apartments and hilarious STD scares. It's not being in rap videos and expensive lunch dates with friends. It sucks. It's hard and, I hate to break it to you, but you still get zits.

I don't know who to blame for this. On the one hand, obvs, I'd blame the parents. Stop making adulthood look cool! On the other hand, I want to blame celebs. Hey, Miley, we get it! You're not a teen anymore and you have antlers and a onesie and are making (arguably) some of my favorite songs! And on the OTHER hand (there are several hands, here) I want to blame over-achieving 20-somethings who insist on making success look easy. But on the other OTHER hand, I want to blame the girls themselves for not being smart enough to realize that getting older is dumb. Adults get fired and go into debt and have trouble getting pregnant and have to pay for new brakes and aren't "naturally skinny" anymore and have meetings instead of recess and can't find a man and have breakdowns and can't go back to the blissful days of being a teenager.

So, if any idiot teenage girls are reading this, you should know that being an adult is hard and it's SUPER DUMB sometimes. Sure, we can drink, but that's only because we have to drown out the harsh realities of adulthood. If the hardest thing you have going for you is whether or not your mom will pick you up on time from your manicure, do me a solid and just stay a teenager for as long as is socially acceptable. But, you know, you don't have to be a jackwad about it. 

Sunday, August 25, 2013

Where Am I?

I thought living in two different places for a little while would be so very cosmopolitan. You know, Geo and I would have one place in Rochester and another place in the city? I was expecting it to be all fun and snobby to be one of those people, you know? Well surprise, surprise, Pharon was wrong.

Turns out, living in two places at once blows. I thought I'd be able to have my cake (supporting Geo in Rochester) and eat it too (without having to leave Minneapolis). See, I have my Minneapolis apartment through September. Until then, I was all "OMG, it'll be so cute. I'll stay in the city a couple nights a week so I can still be close to family and happy hours and work, and then I'll go to Rochester for the rest of the week to be with Geo. What could go wrong?"

This was the first week of that experiment. Geo went back to Roch Sunday evening. Then on Wednesday, I packed a bag and some boxes of crap and headed over there after work. It was actually more pleasant than I had expected, and it kind of hit me how much I miss Geo. When I got there, Geo had gotten me flowers and had some of our new wedding gifts set up and it was all so awesome. But it was definitely missing a woman's touch.

For instance, there was no toilet paper in the downstairs bathroom. None. And also not soap, hand towels or cool picture of a cat coming out of a pail of sudsy water. For breakfast and lunch for two days (before I finally was able to find and drive to a grocery store without getting lost), I had to choose between old pizza, mac n cheese, pretzel rods, animal crackers, Coke and PB sandwiches on the whitest bread of all time. Eating in a boy's kitchen is no place for a girl who has taken zero steps towards losing the 25 pounds she gained on her honeymoon.

But after I set a few things up and got some carrot sticks in the refrigerator, it started to feel really good. (As did the central air conditioning and being able to walk across the room without running into a pile of garbage or a person.) As soon as I started to kind of feel okay with being sooooooooooo far away from civilization though, it was time to come back for my City Life. I repacked a bag and drove back to my apartment, missing Geo already.

When I was in Rochester, I realized I didn't have have proper towels or drinking glasses or a pizza cutter or my iPhone charger. Now that I'm back home with all that stuff, I realize I don't have any new wedding presents, a washer and dryer, a garage or my husband. So, it's pretty obnoxious.

I feel like I'm living two different lives. One is in the city and the other is in a different city just like 75 miles south of the other. It's a little sucky and disjointed to be living this way. I don't know how people who have secret families do it. But, we'll see how it goes. I'll keep shuffling around and trying to figure out where I am on any given day.

Sunday, August 18, 2013

Eat, Drink, Get Married

Oh, hello there, Blog! I've missed you! What have I been up to, you ask? Oh not much. Mostly just this:

Hooray!!! I'M MARRIED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That's right, fellow pals. Your beloved blogger has gone and gotten hitched. That up there is me and my main squeeze just minutes after saying "I do" and it's quite possibly the absolute best moment of my life. I'm so happy to be married. And to be able to get fat again. Yay!!!!!

We had the ultimate wedding. It had everything I could have ever imagined and it was simply the very best day ever. And just 24 hours after going to bed that night, I was waking up again to go on our honeymoon! DOUBLE YAY!!! I decided to celebrate:

Free champagne and comfy robes on a balcony in Southern Cali?! YES PLEASE! OMG. There was so much happening at the wedding and on the honeymoon and there's just waaaaaaaaaay too much that I want to tell you guys about. But THIS girl [points to self] is absolutely exhausted and crazy-nervous to get back to work tomorrow after 2 weeks off. Did you SEE that picture of me relaxing and day-drinking champagne in California?! How will I adjust to NOT doing that?!

So yeah. I'm married now. I'm tanner and super relaxed. So far, I'm digging this whole "wife" thing. And yes, I'm pretty excited about being married, but really very bummed that the wedding portion is already over. I loved our wedding so much I can't even stand it. Plus, Geo had to go back to Crochester tonight, and it's just a very dumb transition back to reality.

But, I'm absolutely over-the-moon to have gotten married with all my friends and family around us. I've honestly never felt luckier in my whole life, and I will def give you guys the deets at some point, but for now, I'm going to try and fall asleep WITHOUT the Pacific Ocean rumbling me into a sweet, stress-free slumber. Sigh. Stupid non-honeymoon sounds.

Anyway, let's all have a bombtacular week, shall we?!

Friday, August 9, 2013

Let's Hang Out Forever

Um. IT'S HAPPENING. Tonight, my aunts from Rhode Island showed up for the wedding and immediately, I was like "OMG. I'm getting married this weekend and I'm not ready. At all."

I have nothing packed for the weekend. I have no clue where I'm going in the morning tomorrow before the rehearsal. I have 1 billion things to think about and nothing to actually DO right now. So after spending the day at my parents' house, I came home late tonight, threw some underwear and shoes in a suitcase and just kind of...stared. At nothing. The TV wasn't on, my phone was quiet and I had no checklist to worry about. Holy crap. What do I do now?

My sisters and I went and got out nails did this morning and then just kind of waited for things to start. And then things started. Fast. My aunts Debbie, Jackie, Cindi and Sarah, my cousin Jackie and my grandmaman swooped into town and it all started feeling extremely exciting. I got so amped to hang out with everyone that I wanted the night to stretch on for hours. But before I knew it, I had to come home. I was supposed to head out to the hotel where we are staying this weekend and where Geo is, but I had way too much to do here so I just came home to my apartment. The same one I've been in for over a year. The same one I moved into when Geo was in Alabama. The same one that I have lived in as a non-married girl.

So I walked in and immediately broke into tears. I wanted to be with everyone at once and instead ended up in my own apartment, alone. My Iowa friends are here. My amazeballs family from out East are here. Geo's whole family is here. And they're all here for MY OUR wedding. How could I justify sleeping in the same bed that has last week's bills tucked under the pillows and a dirty sock rolled up in the sheets? These are things from LAST WEEK. BEFORE I was literally just about to get married! It just doesn't feel right.

I talked to Geo, who reassured me that everything was going to be amazing. I said "I don't even know how to pack a bag for a couple days that includes a wedding." And he said "Just pack your favorite clothes and you'll be fine." And I did that and just kind of wandered back and forth. I looked out the window and tried to decide if I feel any different (I don't) or if I look any different (I don't) than I did a couple days ago. It has been extremely surreal.

Getting married is exciting. But it's exciting in ways I never imagined. For one night, I have all the people I love most in the world coming to hang out with me. But there are simply not enough hours to make them all realize how much I want to have their babies and love them. I want to spend WEEKS with my aunts and cousin and grandmaman. I want to be in book clubs with my soon-to-be in-laws. I want to go out for happy hours with all of my friends all of the time. I want everyone to be here forever. Can I register for that?

But at the end of all these thoughts, I realized that all of these things would only be amazing if Geo were there with me as well. And while I can't guarantee that all my beloved family and friends will hang out with me all the time forever, I know that Geo will. And that's proving to be the most exciting part.

Monday, August 5, 2013


This just in: I have 6 kinds of cheese in my fridge.

I like the fact that I had the time to realize that tonight. I like that some things are still the same and I had longer than 7 minutes in my apartment to take a gander into my fridge. But back to the real issue:

Six cheeses.

I think that's too many. And it's not even like they are each different kinds of fancy cheeses. It's American, shredded low-fat Sharp Cheddar, shredded low-fat Italian mix, shredded low-fat Mild Cheddar, expired cottage cheese (it counts!) and something green that I can only assume WAS provolone cheese at some point. I need to clean out my fridge.

I have neglected my fridge like a Kardashian would neglect an ugly child. Tonight, for dinner I had 2 pinches of the non-expired cheeses paired with a lovely near-rotten pickle. Please call for reservations.

Okay, that's all tonight. I have old food and terrible eating habits. Nothing to see here...

Hot Couture

I've been doing so much worrying lately. Worrying about everything from table numbers to centerpieces to figuring out how to squeeze a workout in during times when I can watch Friends at the gym. It's been a lot of work. But I forgot about a major source of anxiety.

I'm going to be hot at my wedding. Very hot. And not even because of Mother Nature. So far, the forecast has not called for fiery hot breath air, so I ridiculously assumed I'd be okay. But I'm totally freaking out.

I tried on my wedding dress tonight. My sister Padrin, who is my Maid of Honor, came into town for the week so I wanted to show her how I looked in it. It was...a disaster. We pulled it out of the bag where it hung looking so peaceful and lovely. But then I got my sweaty paws on it.

We were in the comfort of an air conditioned home at my parents house when my mom and Padrin slipped the dress over my head. And that's where all hell broke loose. The back of the dress was still partly done up, so the skinniest part couldn't clear my shoulders. I got stuck in the dress...halfway on, halfway off. I was a baby in the birth canal. No wonder babies cry so much.

I couldn't pull it up, I couldn't pull it down. I got extremely claustrophobic and very, VERY hot. Beads of sweat were rolling down my back and all the way down to my knees. If I could have spared the moisture from my body that was pouring out of every pore on my skin, I would have been crying. Instead, I just panicked and could feel every part of my body screaming to be released from the intense discomfort.

It took roughly 634 minutes for my mom and sister to loosen up the back enough to pull it down. By the time they did, I was a mess.

My entire body was sweating, from my forehead to my ankles. My hair was all matted and stuck to my face. The dress got stuck on every hot inch of my skin and it caught on my hips, butt and back. My thighs were stuck together and somehow the sweat turned into super glue and I couldn't seem to move my bottom half. There was so much tulle and netting and fabric piled on top of my gluey skin that I worried I would pass out.

I insisted that I had to take it off and start over. "Let me just do it myself," I demanded. "I can't have people touching me when I get this thing on. Just get away." My sister stepped away from the devil (a.k.a. me in a heat panic) and was like "Gladly, you hot, sweaty nightmare!" I finally got it on. Tried my shoes on, picked out the jewelry and glanced in the mirror long enough to be like "Hmm. You look real purdy, Pharon." But I could feel that the sweat was not relenting. It was somehow pooling into the back of my knees and all I could think of was ripping the dress off and running around butt-naked like a maniac.

I seriously can't remember the last time I was that hot. And I'll be in that dress for like 12 hours. What if I never cool down? What if my skin starts melting and all my pores close up and then I just internally combust? I mean, that could happen, right?!

For all the outward factors I've been concerned about over the past few months, I have seriously forgotten that I am my own biggest threat. With one heat-induced panic attack, I could ruin the whole day for myself. And then what? I can't get all angry-hot and lash out at the pastor or the DJ or (most likely) Geo, so I'll probably just end up quietly taking a bath inside my dress and trying to slip pieces of ice down my dress without anyone noticing.

OMG, I'm seriously sweating just thinking about this. Have any brides out there experienced the same heat-induced panic fears? Any tips for cooling down my vital organs so I don't break out in scarlet fever or something?? Anyone?! HELP!