Brittany Experiences Capitalism

Published August 15, 2014 by Britt

Good evening, readers. I hope my absence hasn’t scarred you all terribly. I’ve had probably one of the busiest summers of my life, and god knows where it’s gone. I want it back.

I’m proud of myself for having most of my summer assignments done, unlike last year where I spent two weeks crying inside as I scrambled to get as much done as possible.

The title of the thread refers to my experiences in the working world, which is primarily the thing that has been eating my time up. Because if I want to make myself a meaningful human being in America, I must have money. To have money, I must have a job. That’s capitalism. I work at a waterpark, which isn’t that terrible, actually. I haven’t experienced any form of atrocious customers, nor have I hated the job. It’s a pleasant, minimum wage job that high schoolers can do. The only real problem I have with it is that my uniform makes me feel like Jimmy Buffett.

It’s 5 o’clock somewhere.

But other than that, it’s not terrible. Everyone I work with is really nice, and I’m not terrible at customer service. I haven’t wanted to scream at any customers. I have, however, been hit on. Multiple times. And I’m hardcore being shipped by my mother with a lifeguard.

For example, I was working at the ice cream stand and I served a little girl. Her brother and grandfather come over, thank me for being nice to her, and leave. Later on the brother comes over with the grandfather and gets some ice cream for himself. The grandfather leaves, and he stays to eat his ice cream, chatting with me, dancing to the Cotton Eyed Joe that they put on the radio during like a dance hour thingy, and not really being a nuisance to anybody (not that I had any customers at that point for him to bother), so I let him stay. When he finishes his ice cream, he leaves. Later his grandfather comes back for some popcorn and he says “My grandson really liked you. He said he wished he was older. He’s 11 now.” So I laugh and I’m a little creeped out, but I let it go. And I told my boss later and he thought it was funny. I thought it was funny in hindsight. But I didn’t realize a Hawaiian print shirt made my dating game stronger.

I don’t even think Elvis is pulling this off. The other option was One Direction and no thank you. Seriously. Googling “hawaiian print shirt hot” gives you nothing. Try it.

The waterpark, however, must close for the winter, so I need to look into other options. I recently looked at the local used bookstore down the road from my house and he actually remembered me and everything, and he asked me to leave an application there. I’ve been dreaming about having that job for ages, and getting that particular job was what got me into job hunting for a while.

But recently I took a couple weeks off because I had this major internship for school I had to do at a law firm. I wasn’t sure what to expect, I had heard mixed reviews about most of the internships my friends have had, and so I was a little hesitant, but then I got there and met everyone and thought it was fabulous. We went to court one day, and this guy behind us realized he was in the wrong courtroom. So he asks the bailiff to take him to the right one, and he gets up to start doing the “I need to poop” walk. He then lets out a massive fart, and left the room a little bit quicker than before. Everyone was trying hard not to bust out laughing in the middle of the courtroom but I was dying in the car ride back to the office.

I was also arguably the best dressed person there. I rock the suits. Rock them hard.

Speaking of internships, we come to the big announcement I have for tonight.

A friend of mine name Jonathan who runs ZEJ Roleplaying, the website I admin at, recently encouraged me to apply for an internship at PopWrapped, a news website that covers pop culture, entertainment, and politics. I of course said “sure why not” and he put in a good word for me with his boss. Last night I received an email saying “hey welcome aboard!” and now I’m a staff writer! I’m in the phase of getting everything set up, but it’s 2-3 articles a week and it’s a relatively big news website so it’s making me more well known. I hope you all follow me there, and I’m really excited to be working there. Maybe this will help me figure out what to do with my life later on. Interning like this really helps you figure out whether or not you hate something or love something, and I’m hoping this taste of the world of journalism is a good one.


Yes, I promise to be more active here now. I’m sorry.

Being A Woman Sucks.

Published May 26, 2014 by Britt

Listen well, all of you.

I’ve had this on my mind for a while, now allow me to explain to you a thing. Current events made me think of how much this society is a piece of crap.

A month ago, a girl was stabbed to death because she said no to a guy who asked to be her prom date.  A few days ago, six people were killed by a guy in California who had earlier posted this highly offensive video (I repeat, it is offensive. Even Youtube tried to warn me about it) that is the biggest clue to his motive: that girls weren’t attracted to him. Every day, women are killed, raped or beaten by men because women aren’t viewed as people, they’re viewed as property that men are ‘entitled to.’ Elliot Rodger believed he was entitled to sex and kisses from girls, and that caused him . He’s not alone in his thinking.

men suck 1

If you’re a woman and you’re not terrified for your future I’m incredibly jealous of your naivete. Women don’t even have equal pockets to men. Not that they have the same amount of cash to put in their pockets, because the Census Bureau reported in 2012 that women make 77 cents for every dollar a man makes.

men suck 3


Media doesn’t help.

“But Frozen is the most feminist movie ever-”

SHUT UP. It’s a good movie. But it is not. Feminist. Other Disney princesses wanted something different, and the guy was extra. Anna wanted the man from the beginning and had some serious lack of consent for a lot of things. One quote about wanting chocolate or one quote about being gassy does not a feminist make. Marvel Comics is making far more headway in advocating for equal women by creating a very popular TV show that focuses on a woman with no superpowers, and a Black Widow movie is on the way. DC is still wondering if Wonder Woman would be watched. I would watch the heck out of a Wonder Woman movie. But still women are treated as ditzy and airheaded and comic relief. Or just there for the guy. They’re not strong, powerful, independent women. Movies are just as bad. There’s a cool thing called The Bechdel Test that’s actually incredibly simple to pass, but you’d be surprised at how many popular movies don’t.


Guys, let me tell you a thing. I’m sure there is a woman in your life, mother, sister, daughter, grandma, cousin, acquaintance, friend, girlfriend, wife, partner, that you find important. But not only is that woman a woman, or some relation to you, she is a PERSON. She has the same kind of genes that make her a person. She is just like you. Just because she has different genitals or a different hair length or bigger boobs than you does not make her less of a person. She is not an object. She is not a toy. She is not a plaything. She is not your property or anybody’s property. She is not only her nether regions or her boobs. She is not on her period when she tells you no. She is a person with emotions, feelings, a brain, a heart, lungs, stomach, everything.

men suck 5

I will have to teach my daughters to be afraid of men, because men are beasts. I will have to teach my daughters how to avoid being raped, buy them rape whistles, give them a fake wedding ring, teach them self defense. I will have to teach my daughters that the twig in the media is meant to please men and not to listen to them.

men suck 7

I will have to teach my sons not to rape. I will have to teach my sons that no freaking means no. I will have to teach my sons not to treat women as objects. I will have to teach my sons to be nice and that being nice doesn’t mean that they owe you anything because you’re supposed to be nice. I will have to teach my sons that she is a person.

men suck 2






If you don’t respect women, don’t talk to me, don’t touch me, don’t come near me, don’t breathe near me, don’t breathe the same air as me, and quite frankly, don’t breathe at all. If you don’t respect women, you’re lowering the IQ of the world with every single breath you take. If you don’t respect women, you can go brush your teeth the with their menstrual blood while you remember who pushed you out of her womb and fed you.

Brittany attempted to censor bad words, okay Mom?

Brittany attempted to censor bad words, okay Mom?

I almost don’t want children. I don’t want to force someone into a society like this. And unless there are some serious changes that are drastically needed, I probably won’t. I hate that. I want them, but I don’t want to have to worry about the potential crimes of my children, or the potential crimes my children will be victims of when I’m not watching them.

But if I do decide to have children, I don’t care if they are gay, straight, boy, girl, purple, alien, mentally disabled, I will still love them. But if they rape or bully, we will have a problem. A serious, serious problem.

Dear reader, I’d like you to do something. Think about how you would react to your mother, sister, best friend, daughter, or any female related to you were a victim of sexual harassment, rape, domestic violence. Think about you being a victim of any of that. Try to imagine what it is like, how horrible it is. Go on Twitter and visit the #YesAllWomen. Now try to find a way to stop it.

R.I.P. to everyone who has died because of gender related violence, and those who died in the Santa Barbara rampage.

National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233)

National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-HOPE

Debate, College, and Road Trip Music

Published April 16, 2014 by Britt

I’ve been busy the past few weeks doing various different things. Starting out with debate and zombie army crawling towards Spring Break. But now I’m doing the Spring Break thing and I’m super duper happy.

Debate is a really odd thing, especially my style of debate, Student Congress. It’s similar to Model UN only much more AMURIKA and serious. Odd things happen in the chamber. People act like actual politicians and it can get actually pretty scary. But then there are some people who make for interesting stories.For example, I was at regionals and someone goes up to give a speech. This guy (We’ll call him Reek because he got on my entire team’s nerves and it rhymes with sneak… cookie for reference) went up and gave a decent speech, then took out a pocket version of the Constitution of the United States of America. Yes, the We the People one. He reads a section from it and ties it into getting rid of tobacco subsidies being unconstitutional then THROWS IT ON THE GROUND. Literally. Not dropping it.

Like this.

Now, we do the whole congressional oath of office thing at the beginning of the tournament, including swearing to protect and defend the Constitution, and I think throwing it may be a violation of that. Somehow.

We tried to disqualify the speech and label the book as a prop (which we were pretty sure you can’t have), but the speech was included later on because apparently the prop rule was in the rule book… two years ago. So the director gave them benefit of the doubt and kept the speech, and Reek won the tournament, much to my team’s distaste.

Funny side note: One of my teammates is in theatre, so she taught us some vocal warmups they do in theatre and we were doing them in a circle. A girl we know came over and thought we were talking strategy but then she heard us chanting about mixed biscuits and became concerned and confused.

So once that exhausting tournament was over, spring break came down upon me like a gift from the gods of the universe and Neil DeGrasse Tyson (Yes, I’ve been watching Cosmos: A Spacetime Odyssey and it is magical).

Spring Break means vacation time, and vacation time means college touring.  It was while I was college touring that I have found the college of my dreams.

College is a weird thing. College is like a wedding dress. You have to try on a few before you find The One and it’s super expensive.

Randy and the other lady were my parents. I’m in the dress. Mel and Munchkin are on the couch.

My parents and I have pretty much been on the same page of the college thing. I made my expectations fairly clear to them, and they seem to have gotten it. They’ve been pretty okay with it too. So they took me college touring on this fine spring break, and we went up to Gettysburg College.

We pulled into town and I was in love.

We pulled into the parking lot and I was truly in love.

By the time we finished the tour, I was ready to pack my stuff and move in.

Gettysburg is a magical place filled with quaint historical houses, ghosts, and you probably are breathing the same air Lincoln breathed when he gave the Gettysburg Address. It’s a bit of a tourist area, but it has more local restaurants than chains. I mean I saw the chains, I ate at a Friendly’s and got Starbucks plus saw the fast food chains and a Domino’s, but it’s CHARMING. There was one restaurant we ate at that was in the tavern area of the oldest building in Gettysburg called the Dobbin House and it felt like I was eating in a tavern, complete with somewhat dim lighting and candles. The food was delicious and it was my favorite restaurant that we ate at.

The college itself has gorgeous buildings on a well maintained landscape, nearly in the heart of the historic area of Gettysburg,  and is a bit larger than my high school. It has the traditional feel of William and Mary but there’s less of a pressured vibe to it and it’s not like other schools in its own weird way. It’s scholarly, but it’s not intimidating, and it’s interesting. I felt like I would fit in perfectly there, and I would never want to come back home. I’m sure I will, but I love that college so much it’s a problem. The library is wonderful, the on-campus housing is beautiful, and I love everything and everyone. Mom and Dad really liked it too, and was happy that I was happy. I really couldn’t put it into strong enough words at the time so the best I could do was emit high pitched squealing.

While we were there, that stupid cold front that dumped snow on Watson while she was looking at Notre Dame blew through while we were tramping about on the Gettysburg battlefield. It was muddy, it was cold, it was rainy, and that probably muddled my concentration on remembering the battle, but it was still really amazing. It’s a huge battlefield, and we only saw a few of the monuments. We tried to find where Lincoln delivered the Gettysburg Address (which my mom was surprised was only a few minutes) but the only sign we found about it said that it was “nearby.” Eventually we gave up because it was cold and rainy and went to get hot chocolate from Starbucks.

Today we went to Chocolate World in Hershey and made our own chocolate bars while wearing sexy hairnets. And then we drove home for most of the day.

Road trips aren’t a bad thing, right? And then you get caught in D.C. traffic. So you turn up the radio to distract yourself from the annoyances. This wouldn’t be so bad if you hadn’t spent most of the trip listening to music from the 70s-2010s. I like that music, but it gets less nostalgic overtime. And I would want to go back to the modern pop hits because my parents don’t like my indie rock jams, but dear god can radio stations overplay songs. So can society.

Let’s do a case study.

“Happy” by Pharrell was originally written for the movie Despicable Me 2. It’s a positive and upbeat tune that doesn’t discuss drugs, sex, alcohol, violence, etc. because it was originally intended for a children’s movie. It’s also been nominated for an Oscar for best song, but lost to Frozen‘s “Let It Go.” By now, if you haven’t heard this song, you’re living under a rock and I would like to join you.

Now, I like the song. It’s a good song, it’s refreshing. The video features normal people doing a happy dance and it’s cute. The only thing I dislike about it is Pharrell’s ridiculous hat.

I don’t get it! What is he, a mountie?! Why is this a thing?!

But then it comes on so much you can’t escape it. And then your school does a video with the teachers dancing to it. And they play that song in the hallways. And project the video during lunch. On loop. For thirty minutes. The video was cute. But then I grew increasingly UNHappy. My taste for being happy was soured by a bad case of Overplayitis. And that’s sad.

Of course I tried to change the channel a lot, but I was trapped in the back seat, so my arms didn’t extend that far. I also had earbuds and freshly loaded CDs on my phone, but phones die eventually.

The music industry is weird nowadays. I don’t like how they’ve allowed so much screaming of sex and drugs to be played so often, and they’ve let autotune rule everything. Then they spoil a perfectly good song and then it all goes back downhill from there. I really liked “Radioactive” by Imagine Dragons, and “Counting Stars” by OneRepublic. And then they beat it until it was beyond dead. “Happy” will be the same way. And looping songs like this made for a bad road trip.

I’m just glad to be out of the car. I don’t know how I got to this. It made more sense in my head, but it’s late and I’m tired. We’ll go with it.

The (Un)importance of Individualism

Published March 10, 2014 by Britt

When you’re a happy little kid and you’re so incredibly naive, your parents, teachers, and family all tell you “Be yourself! People will accept you for who you are!” You believe them. Their voices are in the back of your mind saying “It’s okay! You’ll do great!”

And then reality slams into you in the form of growing up. And learning. Life’s not as sugar coated like they like to make out in elementary school. People aren’t as sugar coated and adorable as they are in elementary school.

I like to consider myself an individual. I try my hardest to tell the world that I am a gosh darn person (not a robot), I’m amazeballs, I can do anything, this is my world and you’re living in it, I’m better than you. I’m me. I’m proud to be me. I’m that girl who freshman year carried around a jar of dirt. I know somewhere, someone is still wondering why I did that.

Let me explain to you a thing. That jar is an accurate representation of how society deals with individualism. They hide it. They steal it. They make fun of it. They come up with nicknames for it. They act like terrible people about it. That gave me a glimpse into humanity.

I had a teacher tell me the other day “You’re probably one of the most intelligent people at this school, Brittany. But you have to conform some one day.”

If conforming means acting like a terrible, god awful bag of trash, I don’t want to conform. Not saying that the teacher’s a bag of trash; I actually really like him. I’m saying society is a bag of trash. I don’t want to be a bag of trash. Sometimes I feel like it, and I hate that feeling. But even if I am a sack of trash, here’s my message to society:

I’m better trash than you.

Society should be trying harder to encourage individuality. Parents should teach children to be more accepting and not act like little pieces of crap. School should not only be a place for book learning, it should be a place for learning how to deal with people. People who are different from you, and situations that are different from anything you’ve ever seen before. It’s meant to help you adapt and deal with people. Probably the biggest thing school has taught me is that conformity makes you into a brainless, mean, person.

But then again, individualism scares people away too. I get hurt sometimes because I think that I’m not included in the conversations. People don’t come to me for help with their life issues, even though I really do want to help. Friend, I love you, I want to make you feel better, don’t push me away. I hate that. I think of it and I want to curl up in a ball and cry for seven million years. It makes me not want to come to other people for help, because if they don’t trust me with their issues, why should I trust them with mine?

Yes, that sounds not fair. It’s just a sign that I seriously don’t have any idea of what to do with my life in the future, and I’m probably going to end up on welfare or in a cardboard box. Or at least as a starving artist surrounded by starving cats.

Ironically, I’m allergic to cats.

Things like this make me not want a future. I don’t know if I want to deal with people for the rest of my life, because people make me upset. I need to find an outlet for this. I need a place to be free.

Reviews of a Bibliophile: Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov

Published February 10, 2014 by Britt

Finding a cover that made me the least uncomfortable was a bit difficult here.

Thug Notes summaries are the best summaries.

Please read no further if you’re not in the mood to cringe. I’m disturbed.

Maybe it’s because I’m young. Maybe it’s because I knew from the beginning kind of what the subject matter of this book was. BUT WHAT DID I JUST READ?

I was originally drawn to this book because I love Russian literature and I’ve heard some hype about it. Not much, but some.

Apparently one of the main goals of this book was to make out Humbert Humbert, our narrator, to be a big shot, fancy, well read gentleman who just has issues like we all do. The goal was to make a reader sympathize with him, a very unreliable narrator, and make the reader unreliable. If you do sympathize with him, you’re an awful human being. And I’m going to dance around the subject a lot about this rather than flat out say what this book is about because I don’t want to set off any triggers, BUT THESE ARE NOT JUST PROBLEMS. THESE ARE JUST DISTURBING.

Maybe it’s because I’m closer to Lolita’s age group so I sympathized with her more (but still, she got problems too and I don’t like her much either), but I was not fooled by the elevated prose. I don’t sympathize with just about anybody. I hope this means I’m not an awful human being.

But I need a good brain bleach after reading this book. I was kind of uncomfortable from beginning to end. Time to go watch that commercial from the Super Bowl with the puppies and clydesdales.

Also, if you watched the Sochi opening ceremonies and watched the video with the Cyrillic alphabet, the Russians are proud of this guy??? I don’t even know. I mean if we consider Twilight good literature… I guess its only redeeming qualities are the little bit of intrigue to see how it all comes crashing down on him like you hope it will, or how it’s surprisingly well written. From a technical standpoint. And it had good imagery. Almost too good.


Going to go weep for humanity now.

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