BOY MEETS GIRL, GIRL MEETS BOY, BOY MEETS BOY, GIRL MEETS GIRL … ETC.

Love looks different for everyone. Some people love men, some people love women, some people love themselves, some people love food, some people love their dogs, some people love their cats. But no matter where your heart lies, it’s your business. Who, or what, you love is your decision. This is not a one-way street, though. If you get to enjoy zero judgement from other people on where you choose to shoot Cupid’s arrow, then you don’t get to judge other people.

That’s the definition of pot calling the kettle black. Hypocritical to the max. I, for one, do not have the mental, or emotional, capacity to get worked up over what other people do. I’m trying to remember where I parked my car. I can’t also be trying to remember when was the last time I saw Billy date a girl. Who cares? Seriously, how is it any of your business? It only impacts you if you constantly think about it, complain about it, go out of your way to voice your opinion about it, you get the point. It’s a choice to be angry. Which I don’t understand at all. Why would you not choose to just be happy? Happiness > Angriness. Basic math. First day of kindergarten. First day in Sunday School. First life lesson we all learn. Life is better when you’re in a good mood.

Let’s use food as an example because I don’t know anything more relatable to humankind as a whole than the concept of food. We all have different preferences, right? Some of us like sweet foods, some of us like salty foods, some of us like healthy foods, some of us like to drink our meals, etc. Doesn’t mean that we will all like the same things. For example, I still like to hang out with my friends who eat vegetables and support their cooking adventures by showing up for dinner and finding creative ways to feed their dog. Even though my go to food is chocolate.

This same logic can be applied to people. Just because you may not understand why someone likes to eat apples as dessert doesn’t mean you can’t let them live their life in peace. If they show up to the party with a box of unfrosted, organic Pop-Tarts you can simply choose to eat something else. Like the white cheddar popcorn you brought. And life goes on, everyone is happy, everyone is full, everyone is having a good time.

I’m not sure why this is such a difficult thing for us to put into practice. It’s no secret that I don’t really enjoy cats. Not their company, not their habits, not their attitude, not much about that specific species. However, when I have to be in their company, I let it happen. I embrace the cat. Don’t get me wrong, I won’t be going out to adopt one anytime soon, but I still hope they find loving homes. Nobody, and especially no animal, should be unloved. What kind of a way to live is that? Just you, your thoughts, your feelings, your pet rock, your succulents (more on how we need to stop the madness that is the succulent party favor in THIS POST), and your food.

Oh, wait, I’m being informed that some people find that to be relaxing. The alone time. Maybe I’m much more outgoing than I originally thought? That is my legitimate nightmare. Thus why I constantly overfill my social calendar. Then I can be fashionably late to everything. And always have to “check my schedule” before committing to things. AKA, buy myself a few minutes to decide if it’s an event I actually want to participate in. 

Point is, live your life. Don’t try to live someone else’s. No need to throw your opinions all over another person’s canvas. That just ruins their masterpiece. Take a breath. Let it go. Take a few more. Let them go. Understand that you are ultimately only responsible for yourself and how you choose to respond to different situations in life. So choose to make yourself happy. By not worrying, stressing, or getting upset over other people.

Alright, jumping off my pedestal for now. If you know someone who would enjoy this post and want to share it with them, that would be awesome. Sharing is caring, after all. Don’t forget to subscribe to get these in your inbox twice weekly and follow TRP on Twitter for frequent musings. Thanks for reading!


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AUGUST IS THE MOST OVERRATED MONTH

Some months of the year are better than others. I’m just going to throw that out into the universe. Not all of them can be a March, or November, after all. This deserves a breakdown, don’t you think? What makes one month better than another? What makes a month overrated? What is the TRP ranking of the months? What facts go into these rankings? Let’s get that last one out of the way right quick – there is no factual backing to this post. Zero. This is merely AN OPINION.

What makes one month better than another? This may seem slightly unintuitive, but clearly a combination of weather, positioning in relation to major holidays, and amount of event options available to the people of Earth. So, by default, March and November reign superior to all other months. Cold, but not the coldest months of the year. One is coming out of the cold and looking towards Spring while the other is coming off the summer sauna and finally features a manageable temperature to enjoy the outdoors. Both host major holidays and are surrounded on either side by other very popular holidays (and every holiday is a DRINKING HOLIDAY if you do it right). Finally, there is zero shortage of events, or things to do, in either month. If you’re a sports fan, you understand that the overlap of major sporting events in each of these pristine months is something only the sport gods could have conjured up. If you’re not a sports fan, there’s still plenty of holiday events to attend including, but not limited to egg hunts, irish themed extravaganzas, potlucks, and light shows.

What makes a month overrated? Well, with every other thing that’s overrated (crispy cookies, Windex, and traffic circles come to mind immediately) people like it for no real reason. They just do. No one knows why. Take August for example. What even is happening with this month? It’s technically no longer than any other 31 day month, yet it always has five full weeks somehow and takes years to complete. The weather is like the devil’s breath. The only “holiday” is back-to-school and what kind of holiday is that?! That is the opposite of a holiday. It’s literally celebrating the end of vacation season. No sports really happen in August outside of a handful of golf tournaments and more baseball games. Honestly, what is the appeal?

What is the TRP ranking of the months? Based off the criteria above the months are clearly ordered like so (from best to August):

  1. March
  2. November
  3. October
  4. December
  5. April
  6. June
  7. September
  8. May
  9. July
  10. February
  11. January
  12. August

I do think that January and August are basically the same ugh wise. The one key separator is that January is the start to a new year so all those resolutions are giving you life and motivation. August is awkwardly terrible in the bottom half of the year when you’re ready to move on already. How would you rank the months?

Alright, jumping off my pedestal for now. If you know someone who would enjoy this post and want to share it with them, that would be awesome. Sharing is caring, after all. Don’t forget to subscribe to get these in your inbox twice weekly and follow TRP on Twitter for frequent musings. Thanks for reading!


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THE MILLENNIAL CRISIS: I DON’T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING, YET I HAVE OPINIONS ABOUT EVERYTHING

Have you ever met someone who can pull random old facts out of their brains on command? Fact fairies. Evidence elves. Truth trolls. No matter what you call it, they’re not of this world. It’s genuinely a skill – you’ll be mid-conversation about how efficient you are with conserving toilet paper on each trip to the restroom and they will throw out a gem like ‘every time you lick a stamp, it’s technically 1/10 of a calorie’. How does one respond to that? My opinions were focused on how many sheets are too many sheets and you’ve caught me off guard with calorie counting. I need a second, if you don’t mind, to slow this high speed spinning opinion and come back to where I left you.

Facts are harder to know. You need stuff like evidence, to make people accept it. To get this evidence, you have to research and with research you have to properly credit the source so there’s no risk of plagiarizing. Even if it’s a conversation between you and your dog – if there’s a hidden bug in the room and someone is really out to get you, they could take you down for not properly quoting the website on whence thou didst read it < taken from my limited knowledge of how some really old people used to write in a time long, long, long, long, long ago. Probably before the dinosaurs #reference #bibliography #facts.

Opinions, however, need zero backing. Zero proof of any sort of validity. They do, ironically, need the opinion reference to make sure no one asks for a follow-up on where these ideas came from. A simple ‘in my opinion’, ‘I think’, ‘that’s just my opinion’, etc. will do just fine. These statements are completely customizable to the user. 

The only real downfall to opinions, is that anyone, and I mean anyone, can contradict you. Then you run the risk of looking, well, a bit dumb if I’m honest. Guess that’s the price you pay for avoiding the effort of learning something. Some opinions are very insightful, though. You could actually get a new perspective, which arguably is more valuable than knowing how much the biggest pumpkin ever grown weighs. 

There’s a time and a place for facts. A good rule of thumb I like to live by is that if there is money involved, facts are probably recommended. Now, I realize this is a broad statement so I’ll clarify my opinion to help enlighten you. If you are paying to be there (hello college!), then the professors could care less what late-night epiphany you had on margarita Monday. Your friends, on the other hand, are probably all for it. They may even be contributing to your nightly indulgence to better enjoy their part of the experience.

Another scenario – if someone is paying you, and you are not a social influencer / celebrity / famous outside of your hometown / being actively sought out and followed by people you don’t know on the gram / etc. then facts are a safer bet. Unless of course you get paid to share your opinions, in which case, bravo! Are there exceptions to this theory? For sure, but I don’t care enough to explore them. If you’re stressed about which to use (fact or opinion), go with your gut. Better yet, don’t care what people think and live your life like nobody’s watching.

In theory. Like nobody’s watching, in theory. Because there are actually a LOT of people watching everything that you do. We’re all like zoo animals today except that you don’t have to actually leave your couch. You can see everyone online. Sort of like a horror version of Back to the Future – maybe that’s what the modern remake will be. We all know it’s coming, clearly all the “new” movies are based on timeless classics because the writers are where? On strike? Who knows.

Alright, jumping off my pedestal for now. If you know someone who loves facts, tell them to stop one-upping you. If you, like mwah, love a solid opinion, know that we are in this together. Thanks for reading!


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JOB DESCRIPTIONS ARE UNREALISTIC

Job hunting is fun – said no one ever. Trying to find a job is a job. A full-time position in resume crafting, cover letter tailoring, interview prepping, interview clothes finding (I can’t remember the last time I wore anything nicer than jeans, so it’s a full on treasure hunt to the ends of my drawers) … and that’s after you find one you’re qualified for. Investigating all the Internet hiding spots of open positions is it’s own adventure. Between job sites, company career pages, recruiters, freelance profiles, Craigslist propositions, etc. there’s a lot of “options”. Or so they want you to believe. On second thought, I would say it’s probably not safe to take a multi-million dollar a week salary doing basically nothing for someone you’ve never before interacted with out in the middle of South Dakota from a Craigslist proposition.

PSA Recap: Craigslist may not be a viable place to find a job. One less thing to stress about, then! You’re welcome. That, unfortunately doesn’t do much to diminish the stress from all the legit sites out there. Let’s break down the various ways one can find a job to apply for, and hopefully, get paid for. The original job hunt where you spend time searching all the different variations that one specific job could have as a title and attempt to filter through the results. Filtering by location, experience level, salary, company, etc. Filters for everything that still, somehow, return 10’s of thousands of results. What? I thought that was the point of filtering? To narrow down the list I had to go through? To, you know, make it easier for me to become employed? And contribute to society? And be an “adult”? Clearly, I’ve been confused about the point of a filter, or the ones on job sites simply don’t work.

If sifting through endless postings, most of which seem to be very outdated, isn’t your jam, lucky you! Recruiters will certainly be in touch once you turn on your ‘I’m available!’ button online. It’s a lot like online dating where they try to win you over and get you to apply for their job (heart) so they can get paid (be happy forever). Similar to online dating, they often present opportunities that are well out of your league. Oh, I see this position is senior level and requires a minimum of 8 years professional experience. I haven’t been out of college that long, but do you think they would take my high school parking attendant position into consideration? Do they even look at your resume before reaching out? Hmm, interesting, this is a position that requires a skill set that I, not only have zero experience in, but up until today have not even heard about, so are they looking for a student? Because that’s what I would be … a very expensive student. Like the college model, but flipped! On second thought, yes, please submit my name.

If you’re impatient, and know where you want to work, you can bypass all these middlemen and go straight to the source: the company careers page. At which point you can submit your application right then and there. Assuming your resume is up to date and has every single action key word from the job description somewhere so the automated hiring robot doesn’t fire you immediately. Then your cover letter has to not only repeat the buzzwords, but elaborate on them. Do a little research, find something about the company you can throw in there so they think you really, really want to work for them and them alone. Once again, make sure Hiring Howard the robot doesn’t do a 6 second scan and find nothing of interest to him, thus eliminating all current and future chances of you getting an initial phone screen. All that work for a company to send you an automated ‘thanks, but hard pass’ email. 

Basically, job hunting sucks. After you find a listing that contains qualifications you almost fully meet, or 75% meet, or really, in today’s market, 17% meet, and you write your best little novels of your professional experience, maybe, just maybe, you get a phone interview with HR. Or the company’s recruiter. That’s just the tip of the iceberg. Then there’s interviews on interviews on interviews, maybe a skills assessment thrown in for fun, because references or past experience is not enough to vouch for you. Then you finally get an offer and you’re all excited because you won’t be part of the COVID unemployment statistic any longer! Only to find out they want to pay you $10 an hour to checkout groceries at the local supermarket. An excellent use of your college degree, student loan debt, and countless hours gaining “experience” at a big boy job.

Alright, jumping off my pedestal for now. If you know someone who would enjoy this and want to share it with them, that would seriously mean a lot to me. I’m so grateful to all the current readers and subscribers. If you want to get these in your inbox twice weekly don’t forget to subscribe. Thanks for reading!


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SIDEWALK RULES: WALK RIGHT, PASS LEFT

In case anyone forgot, it’s 2020. That means it’s been 150 years since the first sidewalk was paved in America. Why is there not a centennial golden jubilee celebration planned anywhere for this?! I’m a bit disappointed honestly. Whatever, it’s fine. I will move on with my life. Maybe I’ll go outside and draw a chalk cake on the ground. But with the candles that just have the numbers on them – you know, the cheater candles. The product invented so someone didn’t have to math before a party. That’s why your cake just has two candles to spell out your age and not one for each year. Take it personally. If they really cared about you they would have taken the time to count out each year you’ve been alive.

Sidewalks probably don’t have feelings like humans do. They probably don’t feel sad when someone forgets their birthday. Someone who uses them constantly and never acknowledges their worth. Just stomps all over them without so much as a thank you. *Probably*. We don’t know. Supposedly plants have feelings, so why can’t concrete? Or brick? Or pavement? I, for one, care about the sensitive side of our sidewalks. Specifically where they may be caving in a bit so I know where not to step and blow something small into a big issue. I don’t need to twist an ankle and miss a week of adult soccer. My whole social life would be in disarray. 

Kind of like the confusion that happens when a sidewalk abuser doesn’t follow the one rule necessary to participate on said piece of concrete. Surely, you know what rule this is. It’s the same rule that is in place on pavement all over the country. One that everyone can (mostly) follow while operating a motorized vehicle. Frustratingly, though, when you take someone out of a machine and have them use their own legs, or some sort of leg powered transportation method, all chaos breaks loose. Walk right, pass left.

WALK RIGHT, PASS LEFT! This should not be new information. And yet, it still seems to confuse people. A lot like when you try driving the wrong way down a one way street, but with less judgement, or consequences. Which is a shame. I think I should be able to file an insurance claim if you come at me, when I’m on the right side and you’re walking on the left, and I spill my smoothie because we both refuse to move.

While that is obviously the golden rule, it is not the only rule. Like pretty much everything else in life. Another good one, almost as important, is not to take up the entire space when walking in a group. Just because you have friends, and want to flaunt it to nature, or the road, doesn’t mean you get priority. Since sidewalk width is variable, you are allowed to take up the following amount of space:

(Sidewalk Width / Number of People in Group) * 0 + 1

One. You get one human sized space. What if the sidewalk is popular? What if it’s foot traffic rush hour? What if there’s non foot traffic present? So many things that make taking up too much space downright dangerous. If you wanted to talk to someone, do it somewhere safer. And with less rules. Like a bench maybe. Or a couch. Or a table at a restaurant. Or on your phone. The one exception to this overpopulation rule is clearly dogs. Not cats. If there is a cat on a leash it better be in your people bubble.

Dogs can account for an extra two human sized spaces. Since they have hearts sized twice as big as one human. Simple math. Simple logic. These should be carved in stone at every possible entrance to every sidewalk, and trail, in the world. A manageable task really. If we can’t get walking right, where does that really leave us on more challenging tasks? Like driving. In a constant chicken with our heads cut off state. Perpetual deer in the headlights confusion. Don’t be that person. Imagine you’re driving yourself down the sidewalk. And for goodness sake look before you swerve out into the middle to pass someone.

Alright, jumping off my pedestal for now. If you know someone who would enjoy this post and want to share it with them, that would be awesome. Sharing is caring, after all. Don’t forget to subscribe to get these in your inbox twice weekly and follow TRP on Twitter for frequent musings. Thanks for reading!


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THE LANGUAGE OF STARBUCKS

Languages have never been my strong suit, but there is one that I simply cannot understand no matter how many times I try. You probably guessed it. It, of course, is the Starbucks language of coffee. I’m not sure what class, or after school club, I missed in my education to pick up on this. How do people learn the little intricacies of their favorite orders? It’s not on the menu, believe me, I keep checking. It’s not on the website. It’s not on their commercials. It’s not on Google. If you don’t speak coffee, you better befriend a nice human who will teach you because otherwise you’ll be stuck standing at the front of the line looking like a deer in the headlights with angry, caffeine-deprived customers screaming at your back.

It’s a straight up clique. An original form of social distancing for those who haven’t proven their worth by passing the challenge of ordering a drink from the menu and then proceeding to change everything about it. Personally, I find the drive-through lines comical because that is way slower than waiting in the store line. You have to try and explain your custom creation through the highly efficient outdoor microphone. You know, the ones that pick up about a third of what you say. Then you get to play the ever fun phone tag, or microphone tag in this case, of you placing an order, the employee repeating it, you correcting it (because heaven forbid you get two pumps of caramel when you specified twenty), the employee repeating it again, you correcting it … again (because you asked for pumpkin spice not light ice), the employee getting a bit frustrated on round 3, you getting irritated over having to continue to repeat your daily order (how do they not have this memorized by now, all the money you’ve spent there?!), etc.

Rant over, I apologize for all the die-hard Starbucks fans in the world. What do you call yourselves? Starbucksers? Star-Warriors? Starbuck Chucks? Straight up Stars? SBean? Estarbucksso? Now that is a winner! I should trademark it, you are all welcome. Don’t say I never did anything nice for you. Judge you? Yes. Mock you? Definitely. Blog about you? Certainly. But alas, I have given your band of minions a catchphrase.

I understand the concept of customization in food. If you’re paying for it, it better be everything you hoped for and more. What’s the best way to do that? Make it your own! Most places have found a balance – a diverse menu that lets you make slight adjustments based on dining preferences. Burgers without ketchup, extra cheese on the nachos, double the oreos in the milkshake, re-heating the fries so they’re toasty by the time you get to them, combination of half lemonade and half tea, etc. Minor adjustments that don’t impact the overall cooking process. It is but a blip on the cook’s radar.

Starbucks has adopted the opposite mentality it seems. Create a menu, train employees how to make the small amount of available drinks, then allow customers to run wild with suggestions. Completely ignoring what people at corporate have deemed current feasible options. How this is a sustainable business model stymies me … oh, wait, it’s because they cater to both the 1% and the 99% all at once. In other words, the rarely seen 100%. Price: 1% model, hands down. Coffee drinkers: well there’s the 99-ers. It’s fascinating. Why even bother creating a menu? Why spend money and time and energy and sanity constructing beverages that people will look at and go, it’s fine and all, but completely change the recipe and I’ll drink it? 

You order a chocolate chip frappuccino, sans chocolate chips, without milk, zero sugar, and instead of espresso a black coffee pour over. Pretty close. You order a vanilla latte, but skinny edition sans flavor, additives, anything besides water, and low-fat whipped cream. You order a caramel macchiato, but with ten pumps of chocolate, just a quarter pump of caramel, milk steamed at exactly 152.5 degrees for slight froth, but not too much, and a whipped cream. I don’t even know what I’m saying but these are all things I’ve heard while waiting in line for my cake pop. Honestly, I don’t care – estarbuckssos, you do you. What I do care about, is having my order become unnecessarily complicated because the employees forget normal words like water. I have to order liquid, pulled from the coldest, purest creeks in Chile with ice, hand carved by farmers in the Swiss Alps. And, of course, a perfectly moist, aerated, sugar dough covered with the finest colors at the end of the Lucky Charms rainbow and topped with tiny globes of crunch.

Alright, jumping off my pedestal for now. If you know someone who would enjoy this post and want to share it with them, that would be awesome. Sharing is caring, after all. Don’t forget to subscribe to get these in your inbox twice weekly and follow TRP on Twitter for frequent musings. Thanks for reading!


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IF MY DOG HAD A TINDER

My dog is single and that makes me happy because it means she gives all of her love to me. All day long she follows me around and will set up a nap spot in whatever room I also happen to be napping in. Or occasionally doing work in, but if I don’t have a video conference call, who really knows how I’m spending my time? Besides my bi-weekly progress report. Not going to lie, I’m here for this level of loyalty and attention. It’s like being worshipped, but by an animal who doesn’t know any better. To be fair, I was the one who rescued her from the animal shelter and am, what one would call, the fun parent so it’s not all that unrealistic to be treated like her savior. Who takes her on walks? That would be me! Who has no control when the puppy eyes come out and ends up putting more treats in her bowl than kibbles? Unashamed, this is also me! Who will pet her constantly because her fur is so silky smooth? Sí, ‘tis mwah! Who disciplines her? This, most definitely, is not me – she’s an angel and does no wrong!

I was today years old when I realized that maybe I’m the one who’s whipped in this scenario … my dog may secretly be an evil genius. Stroking my ego by acting like I’m her favorite because she knows I’ll give in. I’ve tried to hold out – once or twice, but it only lasts about two seconds before I make up excuses to justify my behavior. We must not feed her, she wouldn’t beg if she wasn’t starving. Duh. Clearly, she doesn’t think we love her so I must constantly pet her and give into her desire to go on a fifth walk today or she’ll leave for a family that does. Obviously.

Anywho … I clearly need to work on my will-power, but that is an adventure for another time. There’s a lot of dating app options on the market right now (for humans, anyways). Pollinate with the bees, jump into the fire of desire, get struck by Cupid’s virtual arrow – there is one for literally everyone. Some are very specific, some are very expensive, and some just provide an eclectic mix of options with a wide variety of endings. Despite all that we have access to, I feel the canine population is being underserved here. Not felines, they don’t love anything except themselves. Actually, I take that back, they would be perfect candidates for Grindr.

Dogs, however, are capable of experiencing emotions other than dissatisfaction and anger. They also tend to be socialized and know how to interact with other animals in a playful / friendly manner. And I, for one, think that if my dog had a Tinder, it would be comedic gold. My pupper loves everything. Except fruit, because deep down she is a weirdo. What dog doesn’t like apples? Or pineapple? Or bananas? Or strawberries? The worst part is that I’m an idiot and every morning think she’s magically grown out of her ‘I refuse to eat fruit phase’, so I give her some of mine. All those wasted raspberries make me sad. 

Alas, I digress. If you’ve never used Tinder and don’t have a real point of reference for what this would look like, I will enlighten you. You make a profile, add some cute pictures of yourself, or not, fill out a brief bio on you, or not, and then get thrown into the flaming hot pit of love. Or whatever it is you’re looking for. Swipe left if it’s a hard pass. Swipe right if you’re mildly interested and / or are looking for a confidence boost. Swipe up to super like someone. That is literally it. Swipe culture at its finest. Judgement being thrown around at scary speeds. 

Knowing what we all now know about Tinder (and it’s eternal flame of connection), let’s pause for a second and imagine what it would look like for the creatures we love the most in this world to join the movement. I lied, don’t do that. I’ve already brainstormed this extensively for the both of us. Before we continue further, let me provide some very basic, but essential pieces of background information:

  • My dog is a female (surely you’ve picked up on this by this point in the post, but *just* *in* *case* you skipped the first part I wanted to reiterate. Also, how dare you?! Go back to the beginning and read the whole post!)
  • My dog is beautiful. Now this may seem biased, but I have it on record from friends, neighbors, strangers on Twitter, etc. that she could be a *dogel without any effort. She is also low-key all about the spotlight and will pose for pictures
    (*Dogel = dog model)
  • My dog is the equivalent of a human lovebug – she’s a cuddler, she loves people, she loves other animals, she doesn’t like to be by herself, she would be a hardcore romantic, I’m convinced
  • My dog loves to exercise and, if we don’t play with her enough, she will play by herself because she also has extremely high confidence

Mmkay! That was super fun for all of us I’m sure (maybe me more than you, but no matter). Moving on to the good part. Let’s take this wonderful ball of fur and put her on the market! She obviously has an amazing gallery of photos to choose from since she will sit so still when the camera is on and make sure you get her good side. She won’t put all 9 possible options up, because she needs to leave a little mystery, but a solid 6 will do. Two self-portraits, two doing something she loves (one with her squeaky ball and one on a walk) and two with yours truly because we’re a package deal. Her bio would be personable, but also intriguing enough to make potential matches need to ask further questions. Something like:

Just a dog looking for a walk buddy so I can go on twice as many. Chasing you is my love language. Curious spirit and will sniff any hole in the ground, fellow living thing, or the same piece of carpet I’ve smelled for years just to see if something changed. Bonus points if you like apples

Now for the best part – get those paws ready – we get to see what deck of animals Tinder is about to shuffle for us. Cat? Like! Bird? Like! Fish? Meh, pass. Squirrel? Super Like! Hedgehog? Like! Centipede? Nope, nope. Snake? Why not, like! Bug? Not today. Dog? OH MY LORD! Is it … is it another one of me? Stop the freaking car! This is a thing? Super Like times a billion! 

Unfortunately, her attention span is less than that of a goldfish so there wouldn’t be much get to know you type of convos happening with all the matches. More like, I haven’t been on a walk in at least 10 minutes – you down? Or, my idiot humans put apples in my bowl again – if you come over in the next minute you can eat it. Or, you look familiar – did you bite my nose when I stuck it down the hole you live in the other day? Or, remember how I used to chase you around the yard? That was fun – I’m down if you can meet me at the driveway in 10 seconds.

Haha she would be a wild thing on there! She doesn’t take any BS and would either call them out or go straight ghost. Her shame levels are negative, I’m pretty sure. But she’s my shameless, confident, little cuddler and I’m not going to let any other human, pet, or reptile take her away from me. What would your pet’s bio look like? During your next work meeting is the best place to think about, at least, in my experience.

Alright, jumping off my pedestal for now. If you know someone who would enjoy this post and want to share it with them, that would be awesome. Sharing is caring, after all. Don’t forget to subscribe to get these in your inbox twice weekly and follow TRP on Twitter for frequent musings. Thanks for reading!


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DEAR BANK TELLERS: LET’S BOTH ACCEPT THAT I HAVE NO CLUE HOW TO FILL OUT THOSE SLIPS OF PAPER … PLEASE STOP ASKING IF I HAVE ONE

What a time to be alive. Smartwatches, self-driving cars, every restaurant available for delivery, no shame for laying on a couch all day to watch TV, Chewy Chip-Ahoy. So much progress. So much technology. So much innovation. So much delicious food. So many choices for which piece of paper to fill out when you walk into a bank. Did that entire sector of the economy miss the memo? Did no one tell them that it isn’t 1879 anymore? Why are they always the last ones to know … everytime?

For starters, how long did it take banks to get useful online applications up? Too long. How long did it take for banks to finally jump on the happy app train? Too long. How long did it take for banks to do everything in their power to have minimal interactions with customers? Well, this is to be determined since they still seem to love face to face awkward money conversations. Self service is the future. Why talk to an angry, or confused, customer on the phone when they could read an article, or talk to a robot, and figure it out themselves? Anyways, I digress. Back to what’s really important here, which is how confusing it is to write on paper at the bank. It’s the only time I actually write something that doesn’t involve a screen and a cursor.

Some financial institutes have graciously allowed app users to deposit checks via picture. Genius. One less interaction and one less stressful choice at the paper counter. Choosing a slip is somewhat almost kind of intuitive. They’re all different colors. Then it’s usually an educated guess based on the two words I know: deposit and withdrawal. One is exciting and the other is sad. When in doubt, go with the more positive choice. That’s the easy part, though. After you have carefully selected what you hope to be the right check-sized piece of paper, then you have to fill it out. Who knows their bank account number off the top of their head? I don’t even memorize phone numbers, you think I’m going to memorize my bank number? Hard pass. 

I used to try and be a good bank customer and put my numbers in the tiny boxes on the paper. A traumatizing experience that reminded me of proctored tests in school. You know, the super fun ones where they make you write your name, address, medical information, dreams, every time you’ve blinked, with each letter in a separate box the size of a period. But, then the impossible question of my bank account number stalls me so I would take my half-hearted attempt to the bank teller who would have to finish it for me. Then, like technology, I evolved and would pick the bank paper and just take it up without even trying. 

Now, however, I no longer care about what the bank tellers think of me. I don’t even glance at that table. It’s a straight up swerve. Right into line where I confidently stroll up and tell them what I need – they can figure out which piece of paper I need. That’s their job, right? Or part of their ‘other duties as assigned’ at the very least. If they wanted me to do it myself, why not let me do it online? Or on their app? Or via a chat bot? Or via telekinesis? So many options that don’t involve a bank teller judging my skills as an adult. It also seems like minimizing real life visits would reduce overhead. 

Why don’t they move all operations online, you may be wondering? I’ve been asking myself this for years. Even Capital One’s reinvented “cafes” are still banks. Just banks with iPads and chairs in them. Which begs the question, why can’t I use the iPad in my house, sitting in my own chair, and not put on pants to come to a building to conduct financial business? Sure, I get it. Some people prefer in person interactions. Well, I would prefer it if I could eat a whole pizza by myself and not receive four plates from the delivery driver like I’m going to share it. I would also like to receive a bank bonus for showing up in person, when so many people are able to avoid that. But, we can’t always get what we want, can we? 

Alright, jumping off my pedestal for now. If you know someone who would enjoy this post and want to share it with them, that would be awesome. Sharing is caring, after all. Don’t forget to subscribe to get these in your inbox twice weekly and follow TRP on Twitter for frequent musings. Thanks for reading!


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ALL OF MY THOUGHTS WAITING IN THE CHICK-FIL-A DRIVE-THRU LINE

Like a good Southerner, I understand that Chick-fil-A is part of the food pyramid. Not the whole base, but the second biggest tier for sure. Combined, of course, with Bojangles’ and their legendary sweet tea. In essence, people living south of Virginia are 50% chicken, 10% sweet tea, and 10% seasoned fries. The remaining 30% is gravy, banana pudding, and mac n’ cheese #math.

Since our sustenance relies heavily on the big red C, it’s imperative that I make regular appearances. Except on Sundays because the owners are clearly good southern christians and leave one day a week for home cooked meals at Grandma’s house. Unfortunately, I am not the only one living with this gratitude mindset. For all of the genius that is the CFA kitchen, their parking lot layouts leave a lot to be desired. Specifically the drive-thru portion of the design. Everyone, and their mothers, know that there is never a dead period at CFA. Everyone except the car space architects apparently.

It does not matter what time of day you get a hankering for waffle fries and magical chicken, there will be a full drive-thru line. 3:45PM on a Tuesday? Packed. 11:15AM on a Thursday? Can’t even get in the parking lot. Anytime before 10:30AM? Forget it! People will fight to get their Chick-n-Minis before the breakfast menu shuts down. They are also the only restaurant I know with an all day lunch rush. How is that even possible?! How is the whole world eating both an early, on time, and late lunch every day of the week every week of the year? That’s not possible. 

I’m sure we’ve all waited in a long drive-thru line before and been super thrilled about watching our gas efficiency rating drop consistently and trying to communicate with the employee through the high quality speaker system. How many times have you waited in a double drive-thru line? I don’t mean the supposedly more efficient double lane options. No, no. I mean the double line that occurs in the same way that you would draw a spiral. The drive-thru line is full and wraps all the way around the building. Um, what? Yes, you start in line near the speaker to order … but are the second to third layer of the circle. Is there anything more soul crushing when you’re hungry? No.

So clearly, as you can imagine, this line does not fall into the definition of fast food. It’s a slow burner. And time with your thoughts is a fun place to be. Well, fun may not be the right adjective. It’s an interesting place to be. My hungry thoughts are not on the same reading level as my well-fed thoughts. They get weird, they get abstract, they get confusing, they get twisted in circles (like the line I’m sitting in). It’s a black hole – one that I’m going to throw you into so you, too, can ponder these existential moments in my Chick-Fil-A waiting life:

  • Who taught the cows to spell? They didn’t do a good job
  • Who decided that the font should be a backwards foggy mirror attempt at writing?
  • Are CFA employees allowed to eat beef while at the office?
  • Does part of an employee’s non-compete contain information about dietary restrictions?
  • When will an employee be allowed to eat beef again?
  • Are all catered meals at corporate from CFA?
  • Has anyone ever pulled a prank and ordered Wendy’s or McDonald’s on “accident”?
  • Why was the chicken salad sandwich removed from the menu?
  • Why is there no option to supersize a meal? It could be the Fox option, get it
  • Is there a reason why sandwiches don’t come with a normal amount of pickles? What is so significant about two?
  • Is it a coincidence that the sun is always shining when I’m at CFA? No, it’s a sign from the heavens to eat mor chikin! (Side question: how did Google know to autocorrect that to the CFA version?! My mind just exploded)
  • Why were the color choices not orange? Like, you know, a chicken
  • How have I not moved at all?
  • If I use the app and place a mobile order while in the drive-thru, will I get my food faster? Spoiler: yes
  • Why is the peach milkshake not a year round treat? That’s the best option
  • Why do the cookies taste better when they’re catered?
  • How many times can an employee say ‘my pleasure’ before they explode?
  • How rapidly can I repeatedly say ‘thank you’ to test this out?
  • If the employees are taking my order, what is the point of moving through the line? Can they not also bring me the food?
  • Why is every parking lot so small? And tight? Neither is conducive for heavy drive-thru traffic
  • How many accidents happen each year in CFA parking lots? An acchickdent lol
  • Is there any way we could get a cow fence around the buildings? A normal fence with giant cutouts of the billboard cows? For full branding efforts
  • Do the billboard cows have names? If so, what are they?
  • How many free sandwiches are given away on Cow Appreciation Day?
  • Why don’t I own a full cow costume like a lot of the people here? Why do so many people own full cow costumes?
  • What if I had grown up in the North and not known about the mouth party that is CFA? The horror
  • How am I only one car closer to the goal?!

That feels like a sufficient share. Feel free to traverse that thought train at your own pace. Dive deeper into your feelings if you need to. Don’t if your care level for these questions is negative. You do you, but whatever path you decide, it’s better with a Chick-Fil-A sandwich and waffle fries. What drive-thru thoughts do you have while waiting to relieve the hangriness?

Alright, jumping off my pedestal for now. If you know someone who would enjoy this post and want to share it with them, that would be awesome. Sharing is caring, after all. Don’t forget to subscribe to get these in your inbox twice weekly and follow TRP on Twitter for frequent musings. Thanks for reading!


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TINY HOUSE, MIGHTY PROBLEMS

Good things come in small packages. Heard that inspiration before? I can see how in some situations this is applicable and would be a fun, everything will work out, sign. In other situations, however, this feels like anti-logic. Rather unhelpful. Because sometimes good things come in big packages. Take space, for example. The more space you have, the more space you fill up … but the less space you have, the less amount of essentials you have. 

Space is super prevalent in a lot of scenarios. Housing, the office, a car trunk, the refrigerator, any public place in the world currently. Imagine if you voluntarily took your current fridge space and cut it down to about a tenth of the size. Sounds a bit irresponsible – where is all of your cookie dough going to go? What about all the orange juice and champagne? How will you keep cheese sticks? Sacrifices will have to be made. So long produce. Adios dairy products. It’s been real lunch meat. If the thought of having to restrict the amount of refrigerated goods you can keep at any given time doesn’t make you sad, I can honestly say that we have very different priorities in life.

What about the amount of trunk space in your vehicle? Some cars only come with enough space to hold all of one backpack. On purpose. And some people buy these cars knowing that a “trunk” feature is basically a lie. On purpose. I have a lot of questions about how one is able to survive life without a trunk, but those are good questions for another time. For all the normal people in the world, a trunk is a necessity. It’s where you can hide your valuables on vacation. It’s also a great place to put suitcases for a road trip. Believe it or not, it’s also incredibly handy when shopping. For food, or clothes, or home improvement project supplies, or plants, or sporting equipment, etc. 

I, for one, would not know what to do if I woke up tomorrow and my trunk had disappeared. Well, more accurately, my trunk and the backseat of my car. Where would I put my golf clubs?! How could I ever take another trip to Total Wine?! So much panic. And yet, the tiny house market is still a thing. Tiny houses look a lot like a shed. I think, though, that they’re smaller. What does one keep in a shed? Extra items that don’t fit between the house and the garage. What does one keep in a tiny house? Everything they own. Wait, wait, wait. In one version, it’s more of extra storage and in the other version it’s the whole storage limit? How does that work?

If you’re also confused, it’s not just you. The need to downsize makes sense. Personally, my collection of things has gotten a tad out of hand. But it would basically be impossible for me to downsize to the tiny house point. In the same square footage as my current bedroom, I would have a kitchen, a bathroom, a bedroom, and a living / dining area. What actually … is that possible? What if you were cooking fish? Then you would smell it in your dreams because less space means less room for disbursement. Or if you made a Taco Bell run after work. Oh boy, that’s another time when you’d be praying for higher ceilings. 

Imagine trying to have friends over. You could have two, max. So it would be like russian roulette – who do you like the best out of your friend group? They get to come over and nobody else. Don’t even get me started on trying to live there as a couple. If you had a disagreement, where would you go for space? The front porch? All of five feet away from the back porch where your significant other is taking time to themselves? That seems like a recipe for disaster. I guess what I’m confused about, is how much is too much when it comes to decluttering? Reduce your footprint by reducing your space, your sanity, and everything you’ve ever loved. That seems like a hard line between acceptable and a bit unhinged. But what do I know? I currently take up an entire master closet by myself. Space sharing is not really one of my better features. Alas, I also have a stress shopping problem so which issue needs to be addressed first? I like option C, neither – all is fine. I’m fine. You’re fine. Anyone not in a tiny house is fine.

Alright, jumping off my pedestal for now. If you know someone who would enjoy this post and want to share it with them, that would be awesome. Sharing is caring, after all. Don’t forget to subscribe to get these in your inbox twice weekly and follow TRP on Twitter for frequent musings. Thanks for reading!


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