L&L's Guide to Adulthood: Candle Sense

Buying candles for your apartment can be tricky. If you're like me, candle shopping often ends with a headache from smelling two dozen candles in three minutes. Here are a few guidelines to avoid such headaches:

While candle shopping, it's important to remember that just because something smells good does not necessarily mean you want it lingering throughout your home. An excellent example of this would be the "summer breeze" scent, which could either leave you very relaxed or craving Smirnoff and BBQ chicken.

I personally recommend candles that smell liked delicious baked goods. Not only do they fill your space with a welcoming aroma, they also give false hope of a warm dessert to all who enter your home and deceiving your friends is hilarious.

It is crucial to avoid dollar store candles as they often smell like a disgusting mixture of salami and barnyard animals. While the dollar store is great for other home essentials (dust pans, garbage bags, erotic ice molds) it is best to stick to the better-known candle stores.

Lastly, if you purchase a scent that is just not what you wanted, pass it onto a friend. Candles are extremely versatile and are especially known for setting the mood for romantic evenings, connecting with the dead via seance and even make a good chap stick if you're desperate.

Happy shopping!

~Lauren

Happy Lauren Day!

Oh what a glorious day! Twenty-six years ago to the date, Lauren was plucked from the cabbage patch. Here's to you, Lauren! Now can we officially call you MA'AM?

Am I too old for "Twilight?"

I don't buy trendy books. I have no interest in "The Da Vinci Code" and I've certainly never tried to share a pair of traveling pants with my friends. I usually go for books I can relate to or at the very least, titles that will impress others who glance at my bookshelf. “She studies Balzac, I've underestimated her," I imagine them saying.

However, all bets are off when it comes to "Twilight." I am crazy about the intense romance between teenage Bella and her brooding vampire boyfriend, Edward, who spews such smitten lines as "Look after my heart--I've left it with you." Like other teenage girls everywhere, I cannot get enough of it. Only I'm not a teenager...

I understand that there are plenty of things I am too old for: Sippy cups, feetie pajamas, Fall Out Boy. But the line is not so clear for all things "Twilight." The internet is swarming with middle-aged Twi-moms who write racy fan fiction. Why then, at 25 years old do I feel guilty about the joy that comes from reading about the sparkly vamp? Maybe it's the eye rolls my better-read friends give me when I happily tell them "I just finished re-reading 'New Moon!'"
"That's...great" they say, not unlike how you'd answer a child showing off their finger painting.

This got me thinking; perhaps I should be reading something with a little more substance than a vampire at prom. But there is more to "Twilight" than high school crushes and muscular werewolves, those are merely a bonus. "Twilight" is centered on the vulnerability of love and how you would do anything for the person you care for the most. Vampires or not, I can relate to that.

As I pass the Hot Topic display window, I momentarily see myself shamelessly parading around in a Team Edward t-shirt. I can also see the horrified expressions of my close friends and family--particularly my husband. Perhaps I'll keep my overwhelming love for Edward and Bella in my heart and not across my chest in enormous gothic letters. Then it hits me, I'm not too old for "Twilight," just "Twilight"-related clothing! As for my collection of lovesick vampire tales, they will stay proudly displayed on my bookshelf, somewhere between Proust and Nietzsche.
~Lauren

another one

This morning I found another gray hair. I wasn't as surprised as the first time I found one a few weeks ago, but I still impulsively yanked it out. After some deep contemplation, I wish I hadn't. I am an adult and I should display my pigment-less strand of hair proudly. It's a badge of honor, a symbol of my wisdom, a tribute to my new stage in life. This incident, however, will not deter me from occasionally shopping in the junior department at Sears. ~Liz

how becoming an adult is a lot like 4th grade

As I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing my shoulder-length brown hair, a noticed a fleeting sparkle near the top of my head. I put my brush down and moved closer to the mirror to determine if this sighting was what I suspected. It was. A silver thread of hair was protruding from my scalp just around my part. “What the fuck?” I muttered to myself. At 25 was I really old enough to have graying hair? Apparently, yes. A quick tug on the strand and it was gone. My auburn tresses were pure again, and my fantasies of a salt and pepper crown quickly disappeared out of consciousness,Until a few weeks later…

I had an appointment with an advisor at my college’s career and advisement center. As I entered the room I went to the front desk and was greeted by a young man probably no more than five years younger than me. “Please sign in and have a seat ma’am,” he said to me. That simple term of address shook my world. Ma’am? Ma’am! Do I look like a ma’am!? I instantly became self-conscious about my appearance. I yanked that gray thing out weeks ago, I’m not getting wrinkles, am I? As I waited there a couple of teenage girls walked in, obviously freshman, and I immediately became envious of their youth: their solid dark hair color, their ability to still wear Delia’s t-shirts and skinny jeans, their minimum wage part-time jobs. They probably think I’m someone’s mom, I thought to myself. I was where you guys were less than a decade ago, I said to them in my head. I’m still hip, you know. I can use the word “fierce” in everyday conversation. I know who Speidi is. I know how to text. I’m down, yo! One of the girls glanced at me and then they walked away. I also go to bed at 10 p.m. sometimes. I drink tea. I talk to my cats. I hang out with my mom because I want to… Good God I am old!

When I arrived home after my appointment, I told my mother what had happened. “You know, ‘ma’am’ is a term of respect in the south,” she said.
“Well this isn’t the south!” I barked back. “I look old, because I am old. My youthfulness is quickly fading.”

“You look your age, and 25 is not old. Now shut up and get away from me,” said my charming mother. “And there’s nothing wrong with getting old.”

I went to my room and pondered the last thing she said. I guess there really isn’t anything wrong with getting old. I began to feel self-righteous. Stupid culture placing an over-importance on youthfulness, making me feel bad for the natural occurrences that are happening to me! Fuck TV! Fuck Magazines! Fuck America! And then I took a nap.

With that said, I’d like to think the moral of my story is that I am growing up and liking it (which happens to be the title of a booklet for fourth graders on menstrual hygiene. Ironic? I think not). This is a time of my life which I can liken to when I was ten. All the boys in class got to go outside and play kickball while the girls stayed inside and the teachers shut the blinds. Changes are brewing, and I’m ready! I’m not a girl, but I’m all woman and though I may still feel like a 12-year-old, society has granted me all the rights and responsibilities that are placed on adults… like my parents. What was society thinking?

~Liz

Welcome!

We recently ventured into Hoboken (land of the young, drunk and horny) and during our adventure came to the conclusion that we are too old and need to pursue more age-appropriate activites (such as watching Queen Latifah movies and eating kettle corn in the comfort of our own living room). Had someone warned us about 'Boken, our evening could have been saved and this is why we created this blog. We want to help other mid-twenty-somethings navigate the challenges of boring adult culture. Too old for college activities but too young for Scrabble. Along the way we will offer graphic representations of our escapades and give much needed advice to anyone who needs it. Enjoy!