Tag Archives: Texas

Anecdotes of a white girl’s birthday

They say every day is a holiday. Sites like this will confirm that notion. What most people don’t realize, is that every day, somewhere in the world, is a white girl’s birthday. Every single day, dare I add “literally” to that statement.

As a white girl, I’m forced to attend a lot of events to celebrate said occasions. It’s despicable. I’ve decided to capture real-life, anecdotes, and life lessons events that happen when  you celebrate a white girl’s birthday. Prepare yourself.

The different types of “late” that white girls run.

Oh, you thought there was only one type of running late? You’re so glad you have me. Allow me to list the types of late that it is actually possible to be on any given night with a white girl.

  1. The standard “just running 30 minutes behind” late. A common kind of white girl. Always tell this girl the party is 30 minutes earlier than it actually is.
  2. The “I’m sorry I was at XX” late. This white girl is barely fitting you in her busy schedule. This might be her 3rd stop of the night, and it’s not her last. There will be other places she has to go before the world ends at 2 A.M. Plan on said person showing up HOURS late and having to text you 5 times while she’s on her way there to make sure you haven’t bar-hopped.
  3. The “Where are we going again?” late. There’s nothing like someone who doesn’t read texts or Facebook events.
  4. The “I’ve been here all along, but I ran into XX” late. THIS PERSON HAS ACTUALLY BEEN AT THE LOCATION FOR AN UNSPECIFIED AMOUNT OF TIME, BUT WITH OTHER PEOPLE, YOU’RE WELCOME.
  5. The “You guys started early!” late. Some people have a hard time drinking between the hours of 6-9 P.M. Because that blurs the lines between day drinking and night drinking, and those gray hour areas are why God invented Happy Hour. If your party starts between 6 – 9, most people won’t know what to do with their hands, and won’t show up until 11 P.M.

You’ll meet other girls at the bar who are also celebrating a birthday.

no

One of them will be wearing a matching sash and crown.

Taking pictures doesn’t require a masters but it should.

HOW many white guys does it take to get a non-blurry, decently centered photo, worthy for a white girl’s instagram? I’LL TELL YOU. A FREAKING MILLION.  Nothing causes a bigger scene than asking a stranger to take 17 photos, all on different iPhones, all different poses. Bless everyone involved and may he who labors bear the fruits of his work.

WHO'S EVEN IN THIS PHOTO?? IT IS BEYOND BLURRY.

WHO’S EVEN IN THIS PHOTO?? IT IS BEYOND BLURRY.

The HAPPY NEW YEARS!/Kim Kardashian circa 2006 girls.

Spotted: 8 long sleeve sequin mini dresses in skyscraper heels. Don’t get me wrong — I’m ALL about the power of a #GNO outfit that makes you feel fabulous and fierce. But it IS possible to be fab and fierce without cross dressing.

SAY NO TO KIM K CIRCA ’06

You will scream at the top of your lungs when a new friend arrives, like you haven’t seen them, or breathed, in  years.

The surrounding 20-30 people will hate you but you love attention of all kinds, you Basic you.

white girls seeing each other at a bar

Everyone will have obnoxious spirit for their alma matter.

Blessed is he who begins a successful RAIDER POWER chant in public. That happens often, but those WOOP Aggie people are also infamous for disgusting things like this.

Someone will be drinking a skinny margarita.

(spoiler alert: it was me last time). Is this a Mexican food restaurant? Is there a mariachi band around? No? THAT WON’T STOP A WHITE GIRL FROM ORDERING A “SKINNY MARG,” I TELL YOU THE TRUTH. Even if it’s the LEAST south of the border bar in Dallas, this is Texas, and almost everywhere serves freaking margaritas.

I really didn’t learn how to drink to match the environment until after college. Which is weird because basically everyone in my family is an alcoholic, so I don’t know how that life lesson hit me so late. I vividly remember sitting in Triple J’s, in Lubbock circa senior year of college, and ordering a vodka cranberry. AKA the undergrad white girl drink of choice. I look back at that and think “Okay then.”

#getthatthotabeer

You’ll meet actual Benjamin Button.

help

So you’re at the bar. Where you’ve been for what seems like seventeen years. And you meet a guy about your age, who looks pretty cute, even in his flat bill hat. wait, am i into flat bill hats? you ask yourself.

After talking to said guy for a bit, he inevitably tells you his age, and he is 33. EDITORS NOTE: THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH BEING 33.

But your mind is blown because he doesn’t look a day over a young-looking 24, so you’re convinced this man is aging backwards, and in a few years he’ll be in his 40’s but look like a teenager. Also, only GOD knows what’s under that flat bill.

You’ll meet a stranger who you have mutual friends with and your brain will explode.

This is real life. Dallas is a small, small, small little tiny place, full of people who all know someone who knows someone who dated their college roommate on Tinder recently.

“Pretend you’re my boyfriend!”

Ahh yes, there comes a time in the night when a white girl gets hit on (GASP!!!!) by “a creeper” and has to pretend to be grossed out, and  needs another white male within the friend-group to “be my boyfriend pls!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

This tactic is uncannily flirty, however said fake boyfriend is usually gay.

People will tell you their names but you’ll name them yourself.

Also known as people I’ve met recently:

  • Beard #1
  • Beard #2
  • Beard #3
  • Beard #4 (yes I met 4 bearded men in one night recently, it was exhausting)
  • Kendra Scott girl
  • Lesbian motor-cycler
  • Really wants to wash her hands girl
  • Don’t block her view of the TV lady
  • Man with baby
  • Guy from Not Somewhere In Texas
  • Spiked hair
  • He has a girlfriend guy

good luck and happy birthday to all the white girls today is ur day good luck sky’s limit

images via: seventeen.com, remembermefanfiction.blogspot.compandawhale.comwww.flickr.com

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How To Become a Texas Resident. No, but really.

Becoming a Texas resident is simple. Just follow these tried-and-true steps from someone with firsthand experience.

Step one: Vehicle registration and inspection.
Gather your relevant paperwork and Google maps your way to the nearest sketchy auto shop that will rip you off by doing something Texans call “inspecting your vehicle.” Your car will ALMOST be able to pass this test. But as it turns out, you won’t. You definitely won’t. Why? You’re a gangster. You ride dirty on the streets in your less than 25% window light transmission tint.

Non-Texas residents rolling around Dallas without having their windows inspected.

Step two: Pay four thousand million dollars de-tint and re-tint your windows.
You will have to take off work for this. Then spend a Saturday afternoon there. Because de-tinting means re-tinting and it takes too long to do it all in one trip. Also, this will be a hundred thousand dollars out of your weekly Mint spending allowance. Not that you follow it anyway.

Step three: Go back to get inspected and not have Texas insurance
OH YEAH LOL you didn’t know you were supposed to have Texas auto-insurance??? Lolz like duhh who DOESN’T know that???? WHO doesn’t KNOW that???????? Now you can call God knows who to get your New Mexico insured vehicle transferred to some Texas policy. This is exciting because it gives your parents another opportunity to ween your financial needs off of their payroll. ENJOY ADULTHOOD!! AUTO INSURANCE IS $65-100 PER MONTH!!!

Step four: Get auto insurance in Texas and print out a crap ton of papers to prove it to everyone throughout the following steps

Step five: go BACK to the FREAKING auto place 
The staff of this establishment OFFICIALLY HATES YOU. But at least your inspection is complete and you finally have all the necessary paperwork needed to follow the next steps.

Step six: Lose the necessary paperwork needed to follow the next steps.
The kind woman on 500 Elm street breaks the news to you. You’re missing the “out of state” inspection paper. Okay. Ok. O. K. ok. k.

Step seven: Go. Back. To. The. Inspection. Shop.
They claim they gave it to you. YET WHY DON’T YOU HAVE IT. That’s okay because the auto shop inspection car place and vehicle registration office are both downtown. After retrieving the correct paper from the auto shop, you go back to the registration office.

Step eight: Check your glove box and find the paper you needed all along.
It’s fine.

Step nine: WTF is a lienholder???????
I graduated a four year college and managed to scrape by without being properly taught the definition (or existence) of the word “LIENHOLDER.”

You will be asked this by the kind woman at the registration office.
You’re so close to getting your vehicle registered, you. can. almost. taste. it.

You call your mom. You call your dad. No answer. No answer. The lady is looking at you with sympathy. Oh, poor spoiled newly grad white girl. Lienholder, lienholder, if you know if you’re a lienholder, good for you, if you know if I’m one, THAT MAKES ONE OF US.

Step ten: The registration lady decides it’s not that big of a deal and tells you to get in line.
Pay another unexpectedly high amount for two Texas metal plates.

Step eleven: BASK IN THE GRATIFYING FEELING OF FINALLY OWNING THE COVETED TEXAS LICENSE PLATES.
Walk out of the office feeling elation. Tweet that you’re almost done with the New Mexican turns Texan process.

You’re not a New Mexican, not yet a Texan.

Step twelve: Put them in your car and never actually get to putting them ON your car

Step thirteen: Ask off work to go to the DMV
Now here comes the exciting stuff!!! Getting the ID!! It’s finally happening IT’S HAPPENING!!!

Step fourteen: Enter the wrong location in Google maps
How did that happen? No really. How. Did. That. Happen.

Step fifteen: Parallel park and use all your quarters to pay for an hour and a half of parking
Quarters lost a little of their luster after leaving the dorms freshmen year and not having to pay for laundry BUT STILL. $1.50 DOWN THE DRAIN.

Step sixteen: Realize it’s the wrong address.
HAHA YAY.

Step seventeen: Put the right address into your Google maps.

Step eighteen: Sign in online to the DMV
I’m so on the ball! You tell yourself. Score!

Step nineteen: Get UNCANNILY lost driving to the right location.

Step twenty: Lose your spot in line at the DMV.

Step twenty-one: Find yourself in an exit only lane to Houston.
GAWD HELP US ALL.

Step twenty-two: Curse to Siri out loud alone in the car and finally arrive to said destination 48 minutes later
Whatever. You made it. You’re alive. You’re free. World peace.

Step twenty-three: Go through the ID process three times
Congratulations! A colonial woman has time-machined her way into 2013 and landed in your local Department of Motor Vehicle office. She will be assisting you with your final steps to becoming a Texas resident today. She has never used electricity, but she will DEFINITELY be entering your data into the computer program today.

Okay, I’m a patient person. I am. Or at least I hate confrontation, don’t have a backbone, can’t stand up for myself, especially to strangers, and often times that’s just as good as patience. My personality is so laid back and care free, I practically invite people like this to screw up, just because they know I won’t say anything.

But what KILLS ME is the picture that is my future ID. Now, I’m a girl, so I’m obligated to be a little vain when it comes to the face that will have to be inside my wallet every day for the rest of my young life.

The first time my picture was taken, it was as if the Texas resident angels looked down upon me and shed their goodness and light.

What my first photo for my Texas ID looked like.

I did the awkward machine signature, did the thumbprint thing, ya da ya da. The woman prints out the ID with my first name as my last name. It’s fine. Process round two.

The second time I took my photo, it wasn’t as great, but whatever.

My second picture taken for my Texas ID. Not my best, kind of quirky, but whatever.

Whatever. whatever. Signed the machine, thumbprints, colonial woman enters the data, lalala okay. okay.

NAMES. STILL. WRONG. Three-four seemingly colonial women are now crowded around the computer technologies in efforts to order the names right.

MUST. TAKE. PICTURE. AGAIN.

The third picture taken for my Texas ID. This is only a fraction of an exaggeration.

After the lady shows you your picture, you shudder, but you don’t have the heart to make her take your picture AGAIN. You deal with it internally.

Step twenty-four: Become a Texas Resident

You’re finally a TX resident. Bask.

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Filed under dallas things, how to things, tragic things