13 Reasons Why I'd Rather Stay In Than Go Out

13 Reasons Why I'd Rather Stay In Than Go Out

I am the grandma of my friend group, and that's OK.
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I really wish I wasn't like this. I wish I was more fun and liked going out more, but no, I am a grandmother at heart. Sure, every once in awhile I'll join my friends and go out and have a ton of fun, but then after that I'm crawling back into my dark cave and not leaving for another 8 months. Bars are obviously great and all, but so is free alcohol and wearing a snuggie. I'm not sure if I'm just lame because I would rather stay home than go out, or if others can relate to this, but here are some valid reasons of why staying home is better.

1. You don't have to pay a cover to lay in your bed

I'm Cinderella and my friends are the birds trying to get me out of bed and have a social life. I'd much rather stay in bed than go to the ball, okay?

2. You can wear whatever you want

James Franco understands it.

3. You don't have to socialize

It's not that I don't like people or anything, it just takes a lot of energy to make myself likeable, and I'd rather be spending that energy on something more valuable, like eating.

4. No drunk people will be able to bump into you in the safety of your own home

Michael's car is every drunk girl in a bar, and I am Merideth.

5. You won't smell like cigarettes and STDs by the end of the night

Well if you do smoke, or like the smell of smoke, just ignore this one then. But, yeah, the bars in Baton Rouge aren't the nicest.

6. Why go out and buy alcohol if you already have paid for alcohol at home?

I already know the answer to this question, but you see my point.

7. You can't sleep in the club

Actual footage of me going out instead of staying home.

8. Creeps are less likely to hit on you when you're at home and not at a bar

Actual footage of someone trying to talk to me in a bar.

9. You can't watch Netflix at a bar

All I want to do is watch Grey's Anatomy and cry into my glass of wine. So if anyone knows a bar that can offer that, then I may reconsider changing my mind on this whole "being social" thing.

10. The floor is significantly less stickier at your house than the floor at a bar

I don't know why, but the stickiness of floors grosses me out so bad. Just thinking of that noise shoes make when you lift them off the ground of a sticky floor makes me want to just heely everywhere to never have to hear it again.

11. You can eat whenever and for free at home

I rather not have to pay $10 for nachos. Unless Guy Fieri declares them #FlavorTown material.

12. You don't have to worry about transportation if you never leave home

Logic.

13. You get to be the DJ at your own house

So if you love going out because you love listening to the music and dancing, well it's x20 better at home where you can be the DJ. Wanna listen to Missy Elliott all night? No problem. Wanna hear your favorite Gregorian Chant? Super weird, but you got it.

Cover Image Credit: Unsplash

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3 Reasons Why Step Dads Are Super Dads

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I often hear a lot of people complaining about their step-parents and wondering why they think that they have any authority over them. Although I know that everyone has different situations, I will be the first to admit that I am beyond blessed to have a step dad. Yep, I said it. My life wouldn't be the same that it is not without him in it. Let me tell you why I think step dads are the greatest things since sliced bread.

1. They will do anything for you, literally.

My stepdad has done any and every thing for me. From when I was little until now. He was and still is my go-to. If I was hungry, he would get me food. If something was broken, he would fix it. If I wanted something, he would normally always find a way to get it. He didn't spoil me (just sometimes), but he would make sure that I was always taken care of.

SEE ALSO: The Thank You That Step-Parents Deserve

2. Life lessons.

Yup, the tough one. My stepdad has taught me things that I would have never figured out on my own. He has stood beside me through every mistake. He has been there to pick me up when I am down. My stepdad is like the book of knowledge: crazy hormonal teenage edition. Boy problems? He would probably make me feel better. He just always seemed to know what to say. I think that the most important lesson that I have learned from my stepdad is: to never give up. My stepdad has been through three cycles of leukemia. He is now in remission, yay!! But, I never heard him complain. I never heard him worry and I never saw him feeling sorry for himself. Through you, I found strength.

3. He loved me as his own.

The big one, the one that may seem impossible to some step parents. My stepdad is not actually my stepdad, but rather my dad. I will never have enough words to explain how grateful I am for this man, which is why I am attempting to write this right now. It takes a special kind of human to love another as if they are their own. There had never been times where I didn't think that my dad wouldn't be there for me. It was like I always knew he would be. He introduces me as his daughter, and he is my dad. I wouldn't have it any other way. You were able to show me what family is.

So, dad... thanks. Thanks for being you. Thanks for being awesome. Thanks for being strong. Thanks for loving me. Thanks for loving my mom. Thanks for giving me a wonderful little sister. Thanks for being someone that I can count on. Thanks for being my dad.

I love you!

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Dear Freshman Year Roommate, Thank You For Being Someone I Always Looked Forward To Hanging Out With

From the first moment we met and bonded over our love for bubble tea, I knew our friendship was going to be special.

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When I was applying for college, I was concerned with supplemental essays, SAT scores, scholarship applications and letters of recommendation. I never took a moment to stop and wonder "What happens once I get in?"

Finally, the fateful day arrived where I made my college decision. I bought a sweatshirt from the George Washington University store. My mom decorated my High School locker with our colors. And most importantly, I sighed a breath of relief imagining how refreshing it was going to be to ride out the rest of my senior year without the stress of college deadlines weighing on my shoulders.

Unfortunately, that blissful serenity was cut short when I joined a Facebook group of admitted students, where profiles of smiling teenagers flashed on my screen accompanied with the fateful "I'm looking for a roommate."

A roommate. I obviously knew that I needed a roommate. It was common sense, yet for some reason, I had failed to consider the logistics of finding a roommate until that moment.

See, my mom helped me through my college process, but times were different back then. She described showing up to her college on the first day, not knowing who she had been randomly assigned. There was no Facebook, Snapchat or Instagram to help you communicate with the girls on the other side of the country-- or sometimes even on the other side of the world.

This was a new, unexplored territory where my mother's wealth of knowledge sadly fell short.

Lucky for me, I was accepted into an honors program which restricted the list of girls available to be my roommate to a list of about twenty-five. We created a google document which asked basic questions like "Are you a night owl or earlier riser?"

Even still, I had no idea how to pick someone who I would be compatible to live with for the next year of my life. The stakes felt high, but I was reassured by the fact that I grew up sharing a room with my siblings, learning some important skills about being low-maintenance and tolerant of others' habits.

I read through the list and found someone whose answers sounded similar to mine, figuring we had enough in common to be amicable, if nothing more, throughout the school year. Her name was Riya, and she had a cute Instagram, so I messaged her asking if she wanted to try and room together. She agreed and we put each other down as roommates when applying for housing.

Looking back, that decision was the best one that I made when preparing for GW.

Throughout my freshman year, I have heard horror stories about roommates who fight all the time, steal each other's clothes, refuse to clean or try and micromanage the other's sleep schedule.

All the while, I count my lucky stars that my roommate is not only sane but someone who I genuinely look forward to spending time with. We share ice cream and inside jokes. When the weather was heating up and the university refused to turn on the air conditioning, we even shared our fans.

It comforts me to know that at the end of even the worst days, I can come back to my room and laugh or cry (sometimes both) with her by my side.

I remember once, I was having trouble with another group of friends. I felt alone and isolated. I felt like there was nobody who I could talk to apart from my mom or my best friend from home, who are both supportive and incredible but don't know any of the characters in my life in the same way as someone here at school.

I have a bad habit of struggling to reach out to people when I'm going through something, figuring I am strong enough to handle it on my own.

While that may sometimes be true, thanks to Riya, I didn't have to. I ended up telling her everything. She listened to me rant, understanding how I was hurt, and advising me on the situation.

I felt so much better after our conversation, and the best part was, I didn't have to leave the comfort of my bed for the entire conversation.

Her friendship reminded me of my family, and honestly, she has acted like a sister to me over the past two semesters.

It is so wild reflecting on the year, knowing that next semester we will be going our separate ways, living with respective friends in buildings a couple of blocks away from each other.

However, even when the posters are off the walls and signs reading "Riya" and "Emilie Joe" no longer stick to the outside of our door, I know that the bond we created in room 217 will never leave us.

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