Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Hannah figures out she's basic.

The Basic Bitch Starter Pack, according to Facebook. 
I know its been around for a while, but over the last couple of months, I've noticed an increase in the use of "basic bitch" as an insult. I've used it, but I'll be honest.....I've never been 100% sure of what it meant. Then I was on Facebook yesterday, and someone posted a picture with the description "basic bitch starter pack". I noticed that I own a lot of the things in that picture, which made me a little bit curious and concerned. I looked it up, and there are about 45 different definitions on Urban Dictionary alone, so I had to do a little paraphrasing. From what I can tell, a basic bitch is basically just a girl (usually white) who isn't very unique. Her winter uniform is Uggs, leggings, something Northface (vest or jacket - black), some sort of slouchy beanie (maroon or grey Neff, if Facebook is to be believed), and almost always has a Starbucks beverage in her hand, usually a pumpkin spice latte. She is a big fan of fall, and her Instagram is filled with pictures of colorful leaves (#fall) and selfies with some sort of inspirational quote as a caption (#blessed). A basic bitch aspires to be like Lauren Conrad, and enjoys throwing back a good fruity cocktail during a #girlsnight. She is terrible at parking, and if the internet can be believed, basic bitches from different cities have different defining characteristics. 

Umm.....I'm still confused. Are those things bad? I do most of those things!!!!!! My Uggs keep my feet so nice and cozy, and I love me a good pair of leggings. Everyone who has ever talked to me knows that I have an unhealthy obsession with Starbucks, and I am always in the market for a good vest. I love all things Pumpkin Spice (lattes, candles, lotions, etc.), and I think Lauren Conrad is awesome. Her life is somehow always pretty, and I would love for her to teach me her ways when it comes to making the perfect sock bun. I'm a beer girl, but I can always get behind a vodka cranberry, and there is a bartender at Mia's who makes a drink that tastes exactly like a pineapple upside-down cake, which is by far my favorite drink ever. I also can't park worth crap. After Hondapocalypse of 2012, I drove my grandparents old Suburban and that was a goddamn adventure. There are some differences; I am more partial to Patagonia and Columbia, and my Neff beanie is bright blue. My Instagram doesn't have a single fall picture, but that's mostly due to the fact that I'm a terrible photographer. I'm also not a huge fan of selfies. And while I love pumpkin spice everything, my holiday drink of choice is a creme brûlée latte. I would like to think that personality-wise I'm pretty unique, but clothing wise? I bounce back and forth between basic and looking like a homeless person who happened to break into an Under Armour store. 

So what is so wrong with being a basic bitch? Seriously, every girl I knew in college was at least a little basic. On the opposite side of the spectrum is hipster, and even though I live in Portland, I would rather not look like I fell into my closest and put on everything I touched. Plus basic girls usually smell a lot better. So to my basic sisters, I raise my Starbucks holiday beverage to you. Screw the haters, keep on being comfy, cute and basic. 

Saturday, November 8, 2014

Hannah gets two new boyfriends

When people ask me why I'm single (which happens kind of a lot), my usual answer is that I really don't have very good luck when it comes to guys. Then whoever I'm talking to says something along the lines of "oh Hannah it can't be that bad" and I'm like "you don't know my life". Well, today pretty much summed up that bad luck, and while its a little embarrassing, its too perfect not to share.

For the past couple of days, my stomach hasn't really wanted to be a part of Team Hannah. Today I went to the doctor for it, and she recommended some over the counter medication for me to try, which meant going to Target. Since I don't have a car, I have to rely on Portland's public transportation system, which is always an adventure. While I was on the MAX, there was a super creepy guy who looked like he was about my age who had decided that the best way for him to score with the ladies was to ask every single girl on the MAX for her phone number. The best part was he asked everyone the exact same way. He would get their attention, then ask how they were doing, and before they had a chance to answer he would go "yeah OK can I get your number?". His success rate was zero, in case anyone was wondering. He also asked me, but luckily it was right as we were pulling up to my stop, so I was able to quickly exit while the old lady next to me laughed at his face for having no game.

Then I got to Target. The medicine that the doctor recommended is called Simethicone, which is an anti-bloating medication. Unfortunately for me, they put all of the stomach related products together, so the anti-bloating stuff is right next to a pretty large selection of laxatives. I couldn't remember what the name of the stuff was, so I spent a pretty solid amount of time in this section intently studying the labels hoping that the name would jump out at me, since I was too lazy to take out my phone to figure out. After about 5 minutes of this, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. I look over and there is a ridiculously good looking man just sort of looking at me while I'm examining all of these boxes of laxatives and other fun stomach things. We make eye contact, and he gives me this look that just says "yikes. That's a huge bummer". Oh my God, I WANTED TO DIE. You know when you can tell that your face is bright red because you start to feel really warm? That's what was happening, so I just sort of walked away, then came back and grabbed the box after I made sure the aisle was clear.

Then we saw each other again at the register and made super awkward eye contact.

So yeah, that sums it up. A creepy dude asked for my number (after striking out with everyone else around us) and a hottie saw me checking out stomach meds.

Note: I do understand that I shouldn't be embarrassed. Stomach issues happen to everyone. But still, he was really good looking, and it was just so uncomfortable. Oh, and for everyone who is like "well if he was in that aisle too, he's obviously having some sort of stomach issues", that might have been true, but that is not really something that I want to bond over.

Sunday, November 2, 2014

Hannah and Paulina fight a spider

I hate when any sort of bugs are indoors. I feel like it violates the basic understanding that I have with nature; I won't litter and it keeps the creepy-crawlies outside. The absolute worst for me are cockroaches and spiders (speaking of cockroaches, remind me to tell you the story of the night I learned that the huge roaches can fly). If I see them inside, my automatic instinct is to bail. I'm like "ok bye. Enjoy my house and all of my belongings, I was too materialistic anyway". Portland has not been kind to me when it comes to spiders, because I swear to God if something in this city is outside and stays still for more than 20 minutes, there will be a spider web on it. So the other night when there was a big spider in our house, it was a hot mess. Luckily,  Paulina and I successfully defended our kingdom, and here is the story because she told me that I should write a blog post about it. 

The other night around 12:30 am, I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth and Paulina was going downstairs when I heard her say something along the lines of "OH NO THERE IS A LARGE SPIDER ON THE CEILING". I went to go investigate, and immediately regretted my decision when I saw a giant spider on the weird overhang over the stairs. This thing was massive and looked like it was more than capable of eating off my face. Unfortunately for us, the spider was in a really awkward place that neither of us could reach. Neither of us wanted anything to do with it, but we realized that we had to take care of it right then because what if we woke up the next day and it wasn't there anymore?!? Not an option. 

After standing there for a few minutes (her downstairs, me on the stairs) going "ewwww what are we going to dooooooo???", I had the brilliant idea of using a swiffer to squish it against the ceiling, but sadly swiffers are designed so that the flat part can't stay facing up, so that was the end of that plan. Then Paulina, being the goddamn genius that she is, suggested that we spray it with some sort of bleach product and then smash it when it fell to the floor. Brilliant. So she went and got all of the spray bottles from underneath the kitchen sink, and I stood on the stairs with the swiffer ready to make the spider regret all of the decisions it had made that led it to this point. We were more prepared than Arnold was to fight the Predator. 

Paulina sprayed some raid on it, which of course pissed off the spider. So it lowered itself down on its web (OH. Can we talk about the web for a minute?! It having something to lower itself down on means that it had been in our house long enough to try to set up shop. RUDE.) and landed on the ground. After a lot of screaming from both of us, I remembered that I was in charge of step 2 in Operation Spider Death, so I slammed the swiffer down as hard as I could. Then I was scared to move it, because nothing is worse than stepping on a spider and then raising your foot only to have the stupid thing run away while you're standing there going "Lord why have you forsaken me?!". I wanted to make sure that the spider wasn't going to make it, so I took a flying leap off the stairs onto the swiffer while Paulina stood with a spray bottle in each hand ready to spray the crap out of it if it tried anything tricky. 

Spider-slayer Spice.  
Weapons of choice. 

After I jumped up and down on the stupid thing about 20 times, I risked moving. The spider was no mas, and then Paulina sprayed it a whole bunch just to make sure. Seriously, there is so much girl power in our house Paulina and I could be Spice Girls.