Category: growing up

5 Reasons Why Tweens Shouldn’t Exist

Published on by Paige Dolton5 Comments

If you don’t know what a ‘tween’ is, you are lying. Technically speaking, a tween is someone between the stages of being a child and a teenager; they range in age from 9 to 15. The most important thing anyone needs to know about a tween is that they are the most obnoxious living things known to man. Yes, I am well aware that at some point in my life I, myself, was a tween. After coming to terms with this fact, however, I realized that tweens today are incredibly more obnoxious and unnecessary than the tweens of my generation. This is largely attributed to the fact that almost all tweens today are exposed to media in large doses and that most of them now have iPhones, Facebook accounts and twitter accounts, thus leading them to think that they are God’s gift to the earth. If you are a tween and you are reading this: child, you are nothing special. So without further ado, here are the top 5 reasons why Tweens should not exist.

They dress like baby prostitutes. Yes, I did just quote mean girls. But the phrase could not be more adequate. Being between the ages of 9 and 15, most tweens have yet to encounter any weight issues and are still just skin and bone. Because of this, they feel the need to show off their skinny asses by wearing booty shorts and barely-there shirts. No. I actually don’t want to see your ass-cheeks and your flat as a board stomach while I’m shopping at Wal-Mart, thanks. If you need any more clarification, I stole this picture from an 11 year-old girl’s tumblr. Enough said.

They abuse social networking sites. Alright, so do a lot of college kids, but tweens really take the cake on this one. They feel the need to profess to the world every single meaningless aspect of their life. From whiny statuses to frequent MySpace pictures (clearly they didn’t get the memo), their Facebooks make me want to throw up. Tweens even play stupid games where they post a FB status along the lines of “truth is…” which means that their friends are supposed to write on their wall something that starts with “truth is…”. I wish I was joking. And don’t even get me started on twitter. Tweens’ tweets are comprised of two things: professions of love to Justin Bieber or complaints about how horrible their life is because their parents won’t let them go to Warped Tour unsupervised.

They only communicate via text-talk. You’d think that these kids were mute by the amount of time they spend attached to their cell phones. Tweens text like they are being paid to do so, and the way they text is just downright stupid. ‘Omggz gurl cum 2 mii casa 2dai so we can take pics in da mirrorrrr.’ Just stop. What’s worse is seeing a group of tween girls walking in the mall and literally every single one of them is glued to their phone. Why did you even get together today if you weren’t even going to speak to each other?

Their life is one big drama. Mom grounded you from the computer so you can’t tweet back to Justin Bieber and watch Teen Mom. BOO-HOO. There’s no need to go all psycho-freak and threaten to kill yourselves. Wait, Sally didn’t show up to the sleepover because she already had plans? Yep, you’re right. She hates you and you totally have every right to spread rumors about her and then cry about it to all of your friends, in addition to posting some sappy song lyrics as your Facebook status and tweeting up a storm.

We keep getting older, they stay the same age. There will always be tweens; there is no way around it. Even when we are 50, tweens will still be whining and pissing me off.

Drive until the map turns blue.

Published on by Paige Dolton1 Comment

I think I actually might have a problem. I mean, everyone loves going to the beach, right? Okay, well multiply that by about 50 and you have my feelings for any body of water. Except for a bathtub, I hate baths. I’m talking ocean, lake, river, pond, creek, stream, and even puddles. My name is Paige and I am addicted to water.

It started off at a young age. Living 2 miles away from the Lake Michigan shore put me at the beach at least 4 times a week. I still remember my favorite swimsuit: it was from Disney World and had a huge Mickey slapped on the front of it. But being that I lived in Chicago growing up, it was not always swimsuit weather. Yet, my adoration for the water would not keep me away. Even when it was below freezing, my mom would take my brother and I to Gilson Beach every week, and you better believe we were bundled up head to toe running around in the sand.

Another early sign of water addiction is that it runs in my family. When I was born, my parents decided to send out Christmas cards every year to all of their family and friends. It just so happened that the first 3 pictures had some sort of water setting in the background. Thus, a tradition was born. To this day, all of our Christmas card pictures have had water in the background. One December, we even had to put a water bottle in the corner of the photograph because we didn’t have time to travel anywhere that year. It’s one of the weirder family traditions, but I know that’s something that I will always remember and hopefully carry on to my family in the future.

Spring break was no longer just about getting away from school, it was about getting as close to the water as possible and staying there. My parents always wanted to change up where we went for Spring break each year, but year after year I convinced them to continue to go back to the same beach. As I write about it, I can see it so vividly in my head even though I haven’t been back to Sanibel Island in 5 years. I remember walking along the beach collecting shells that I would get to use later to make into different shell animals at Shelly’s Shell School (I completely bought it that her name was Shelly).

Flash forward to high school and college, and I am always the one begging my friends to take a trip somewhere near the water. Being this age, its not about getting to the water and then playing around in it for hours. It’s about just being there with no agenda and soaking it all in (pun intended). As I grow older, I realize how much more I really need the water. Being by the water just puts my soul at ease; it literally feels like everything that I ever worried about is floating away. Now, I realize how much of a luxury it is to sit at the water’s edge and just take it all in. That feeling is something I think about every day that I can’t be by the ocean or on the dock of a lake.

Junior Year: halfway to the rest of your life

Published on by Paige DoltonLeave a comment

At 20 years old, you’d think I would have a better grip on the whole ‘growing up’ thing. Truth is, the closer I am to the real world, the further away I want to be from it. I know, I lied. I wrote in my first post that I would not be nostalgic and talk about past times again, or at least this soon, but this time, I can’t help it.

I have three phrases that I live by, and I hope I continue to live by for the rest of my life. The first is ‘go wherever the wind takes you’. Sure, we’ve all heard it, and, yeah, it’s a little hippie-esque, but I happen to love it. The second is pretty similar, ‘just let it happen’, which I tend to use more often since it is easier to slip into casual conversation. The third phrase is the most important to me, and I will admit that I preach this sometimes a little too much. “Life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react to it.” This was taught to me at my summer camp when I was ten years old, and I’ve stuck with it since then. Especially in the past couple years of my life, it has really proven to be true. In fact, I plan on getting ’10|90′ tattooed (in very, very small font) on my left foot just in case I were to suddenly lose my memory and need to be reminded of my daily mantra.

Up until recently, I can say that I have lived my life according to these three sayings. I have gone on random weekend trips when the wind chose to take me there; when I’ve questioned something happening in my life, I have sat back and let it happen, knowing that I would have to deal with the consequences afterwards. But now, I really can’t do that anymore. My life is picking up speed so quickly that I am having a seriously hard time keeping up with myself. Where did the days go that I could just mosey on with my life without a care in the world? Whatever happened to the times when all I had to worry about was what outfit I was going to wear when I went to go buy more clothes at the mall?

Ten years ago, the biggest issue in my life was whether or not we were going to go back to Sanibel Island for spring break, or if I wanted to ask Santa for the Britney Spears CD or the Christina Aguilera one. Now that is a tough decision to make when you are 10 years old. Back then, I thought I was the busiest kid in my whole school because I took piano lessons, ice-skating lessons and played soccer. No joke, I literally begged my mom to let me quit piano because I didn’t think I had enough time. Forget about school! I was an asset to the Orange Aliens and I needed to work on my triple axle (hardy-har-har). I wish I could go back in time, slap my ten year-old self in the face and forbid her from ever complaining again.

Flash-forward ten years from ice-skates and bad neon outfits (don’t worry, it still fits) and I’m having to deal with the reality of, well…reality. Two years into college and its all coming over me like a tidal wave: here comes the rest of your life. No more waiting to see if mom bought my favorite chips and salsa at the grocery store and they are waiting for me in the pantry; no more asking dad if he can pick me up from soccer practice on his motorcycle instead of his car just because I want to feel the wind in your hair; no more expecting anything. From here on out, it’s all on you. Suddenly, those problems I had when I was ten years old seem so minuscule compared to what I have on my plate now. I mean, my own apartment? WHAT?! I can hardly trust myself to get dressed in the morning, let alone have my own place and provide for myself. And wait, what is this about a real job? You’re talking to the girl who has been a summer nanny for the past three summers. Obviously I would love to have an internship right now; I know that I need the experience and, frankly, it seems like it would be a genuinely fun experience. But let’s get back to that tidbit about me not being able to rely on my parents. Ever since the summer after senior year, my summer vacation has been devoted to making money that will last me throughout the school year. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have a problem with this. In fact, I’m sort of glad that my parents don’t give me spending money anymore. It’s actually been a really beneficial step in growing up and getting used to that whole independence thing. But, because of this, an unpaid, full-time internship just wasn’t an option for me. And let’s be honest, in the fields of communications, PR, and new media, there are few opportunities for good internships that flood you with money.

In addition to the whole concept of living on your own and having a career, I’m also starting to realize that my day-to-day nuisances are not what they were when I was a youngin’. For example, a list of my daily worries in middle school would be as follows: If I roll my uniform skirt one more time to make it shorter, do you think the other girls will think I am cool?; What sticker should I put on the back of my phone?; Who am I going to dance with at cotillion on Friday?; Should I put my hair up so that boys will think I don’t care or should I leave it down so I look prettier?; Whose house are we going to have our sleepover at this weekend? The bottom line is that when we were that age, our worries were practically non-existent. And the worries that we happened to have were almost always about what other people thought of you. Now, I could care less what people think of me. In all honesty, I have my friends and I know that they will be there for me no matter what, so why bother trying to impress anyone else? If people have issues with me, that’s their own fault. With this in mind, clearly, my everyday worries have changed overtime. Instead of worrying about whether people will like me or not, now I’m having to deal with slightly heavier issues: What’s that weird noise my transmission is saying and is my car going to blow up?; Am I going to graduate in time?; Am I going to be able to pay rent on time?’ When am I going to have the time to do 24 hours of community service?; Uh, mom, I’m at the doctor’s office, what’s my social security number?; Is my resume good enough to get me the job?

I guess its just hitting me a little hard that I am no longer that little blonde-headed girl whose biggest problem was remembering to wear sunscreen when she went outside. I believe John Mayer says it best- “I’m so scared of getting older, I’m only good at being young.” It’s the truth- I’m scared out of my wits. But before I get too carried away, let’s remember that I still have two more years left of college! It’s not like I have to get all serious about the rest of my life quite yet, right? Rage on, my friends.