The Accomplishable New Year's Resolution

I hope everyone's 2011 was killer, but I hope 2012 is an even bigger year for you all. Learn from your mistakes from this year, and live it up in 2012. But most importantly, be happy with everything you do. If the Mayans think 2012 is the last chance for us, then make it one hell of a year to remember!

It’s that time of year. Yes, 2012 is knocking on everyone’s door whether they like it or not. This means a flood of diet changes, exercise goals, and other familiar resolutions will be made that will most likely only last a week. But this year, instead of making a goal that I know I won’t be able to reach (like my last year’s resolution to stop swearing. It lasted about 37 seconds), I want to make a plan that I can stick with.

So what’s my goal for 2012? (Drum roll please…) Well guys, it’s to start living in the moment. Go ahead, judge me for the cliché-romantic-comedy-ness of my resolution, but I really think it’s a good one. One that will last past January 10^th.

My grandmother made me realize that we tend to breeze by the small moments of each day, rushing through every task we do without really experiencing them. This Christmas when we were opening presents, my dad would collect the wrapping paper as soon as it was ripped off the packages to throw it away. Literally. He sometimes would get so focused on throwing paper away that he’d start unwrapping my presents for me. (Well, not really. But you get the point.) Upon seeing this, my grandmother said, “Now, Wayne. You’ve got to sit down and relax! Enjoy what is happening now instead of trying to move everything faster!”

I started wondering if I handled life like my dad, trying to make the time go by faster or thinking about the next step before it has even happened. And I’m guilty of doing that. I tend to think up scenarios in my mind, planning out my life, even before the first step has happened. I have been rushing life instead of taking in what is right there in front of me.

This is a terrible habit for two reasons: one, if life doesn’t go the way I planned it—the way I formulated it in my head—then I’ll be disappointed. If things don’t follow through with the guy I wanted to see, or if plans for a weekend don’t go smoothly, just like the way I wanted them to, then I’m going to be bummed out. And who wants to be sad about one little thing not going according to plans? Not me. And secondly, if I plan everything out or rush through things, I’m just missing the little curveballs or the awesomeness life surprisingly throws at me. I’m not embracing the fact that something really good can come out of some small event that I’m ignoring.

Here comes the inspirational part of this post. You’re welcome.

Life isn’t meant to be rushed through. You only live once. (C’mon, listen to Drake! YOLO, people, that’s the motto.) I mean, if you had one life left in a game of Mario, would you see how fast you could go through it? No. You would slowly make your way to the end, grabbing every coin or life mushroom thingy (I’ve never known what they were called) in order to make your trip safer and more enjoyable. You want to make sure you have everything you need in order to make it to the end.

And that’s how I see my 2012. It’s the year I’m going to enjoy all of those coins and little mushrooms (not in an illegal drug way, Mom…) in order to have a fully enjoyable year, and ultimately life. It’s time to start living in the moment and acknowledging the fact we do only have one chance to live this one life.  

So calm down. Live in the moment. Don’t throw away that wrapping paper before it even hits the ground—you’re going to miss something worthwhile if you keep rushing life.

How to Avoid Being "That Girl"

Yay, finally another post. I'm hanging in there people. This one is about what not to do as a female. Yup. So learn something all my lovely ladies. I know you can do it!

And don't worry, next up will be the fellas. So keep checking up for more ever-useful blogs from yours truly.

I know this is a different direction from what I usually write, but it’s still useful. Like really useful. It’s about what not to do as a girl. You don’t want to be “that girl.” Oh, you know what I mean. It’s fill in the blank. And I’m here to fill in that blank. So you’re welcome.

First of all, don’t be that girl who posts lovey-dovey stuff as your statuses. Cool, you have an awesome boyfriend. That’s just great. But your 859 friends on Facebook (most of which are just random people who you have no idea who they are, let’s be honest) don’t care if he’s the greatest boy on God’s green earth.  Oh, he texted you “good morning beautiful” this morning? Cool, go gush to your best friend about it. Or your diary. Not the entire Facebook world.

On the topic of statuses, don’t be the girl who has to mention how you’re “so over so-and-so” and how “you’re so happy that it’s over.” Obviously, you’re not over it. You wouldn’t be bringing it up every single status if you didn’t care anymore. You’re making yourself look like a desperate idiot if you think you’re fooling anyone—obviously you know this boy will see your status, and say “aw, she’s over me? Bummer, I see how awesome she is and now I to win her back and sweep her off her feet with my noble steed.” And you’d be more than willing to get back with him despite your 16 statuses saying you’re, like, “so over the drama.” Barf. Just don’t say anything if you’re really over him.

I might as well just cover the girl mistakes dealing with boys now, since there are a lot of them. Don’t be the girl who needs a boy to be happy. Oh, you know who you are. “Ugh, but I just know if I had a guy to cuddle with and watch movies with and blah blah blah I’d be so much happier.” No. First of all, if you find a guy that just wants to snuggle with you 24/7 and watch chick flicks, you need to check his man card. Second of all, you don’t have the right mindset if you think having a boyfriend will make you happier or a better person. So just stop it. Be happy being single and ready to mingle.

 These girls are usually the ones to have a different boyfriend seemingly every week. I will literally check my newsfeed on Facebook and I see girls go from “in a relationship” to “single” and back to “in a relationship” faster than I can post a comment. It’s bad. Don’t be that girl. It makes you look floozy and desperate. No one likes that.

Okay, that’s enough of that. Now onto the non-boy related stuff. Girls, for the sake of the public, please please please don’t be that girl who wears Uggs with skirts. Or any non-pant bottoms. It’s not cute. And it’s one of my biggest pet peeves. What, did you wake up in the morning and your feet thought it was winter and your thighs thought it was summer? No. You’re just making yourself look like a confused, fashion-deprived girl. So, no more.

Another thing I can’t stand is when girls tweet every 23 seconds. (Basically, girls need to take a social-networking 101 class. They need help.) “Walking to the library and saw a squirrel!” 19 seconds later… “Library is sooo crowded!” One minute later… “Omg, seeing people who you’re trying to avoid. #helpme.” Just stop it. Seriously. When I scroll down my Twitter timeline and see 8 tweets from the same person in a row, I just want to scream. Cool, you can tweet that you’re studying. But when you tweet about every single thing that you see, hear, smell, feel, or wish would happen, it’s annoying as hell. I mean, you’re supposed to be studying! How can you tweet and study at the same time? You can’t, so stop it. For the sake of your grades and my sanity.

The next thing that definitely needs dire attention is what happens at parties—don’t be that girl who always blacks out, hysterically cries, or yells at a party. It’s not cute; it will never be cute, so stop doing it. Honestly, girls, the black-out look will never be in style (I’m sorry, but the running eye liner and the nappy hair are just not pretty), and adding the yelling and screaming isn’t helping. You just look like you should be on the show The Bad Girls Club with those really terrifying middle aged women who think they’re 20 and can squeeze into miniskirts. Guys aren’t turned on by the needy, scary, and ugly behavior that comes with the black-outs. They aren’t like, “oh my god, runny make-up, glazed over eyes, and a bad attitude! She’s so hot!” No. Sorry to be a party pooper, (ha, get it? Party pooper? God, I’m funny.) but you will not be getting action that night. Except maybe between your toilet and the alcohol in your stomach.

So, girls, what have we learned from this? Hopefully it was that no one likes a mushy-gushy boyfriend bragger, or a girl in denial about being over someone, or a girl who likes ingesting more alcohol than the actual keg.

Hopefully you will change your ways (all 5 of you who read this). But don’t worry. The boys aren’t in the clear. The next post will be for them.

So get out there and listen to me so I won’t have to defriend you from Facebook or unfollow you from Twitter!

 

Walk of Shame 101

I know it's been awhile since the last post, but I hope you all forgive me. All three of you who read my blog... (thanks mom). Anyways, read and be happy like always. Don't let the title mislead you.

There are no secrets to life. Everyone knows they can mess up, make mistakes, make people mad, and ultimately be judged in the end. There aren’t any secret passwords, magic tricks, or potions to make it all better. It sucks, we can all agree on that. But even though there isn’t an easy way out or a get out of jail free card, people should realize that making a mistake or being judged isn’t the end of the world.

Granted, there are definitely bad decisions. (Peeing in a stranger’s house in the middle of the night or trying to attack a satellite because the signal’s down are NOT the best ideas). You may or may not regret the decision of breaking and entering to relieve yourself or climbing the wire fence in the middle of the night to fight the satellites. But hey, it happens. But these choices (whose intoxication levels will not be discussed) aren’t life changing, or fatally hurting anyone. Unless of course you end up stabbing your eyes out with the wire fence or end up breaking into a police officer’s house to pee. But that’s not the point.

The point is people make mistakes. They fall in lust with the wrong people, they chose to skip class so they can sleep in, and they indulge in a little too much fun on a Friday night. Sure, people may look at you as a stubborn, unmotivated, out of control person, but as long as you know what kind of person you are, it doesn’t matter. People judge, its human nature. That’s why it’s called “The Walk of Shame” after a night out. It’s not called “The Walk of ‘I’m-not-going-to-judge-this-person-walking-in-highheels-and-minidress-at-nine-AM’”. Because for one, it’s a lot wordier than the first. And secondly, people see these walkers of shame as floozy, drunk, desperate girls. (or boys, but they wouldn’t be in heels or mini-dress.)

But do you think those people care what other people think? No. If they did, they’d be cautious enough to bring a change of clothes with them to the party, so they wouldn’t be the girl wearing a party dress from the night before. Instead, they hold their head high and walk (occasionally tripping in their heels…at least I would be) with a sense of college pride, past all of their judgers because they know they aren’t the floozy, drunk, desperate person they are accused of being.  

We have to be these walkers of shame. In a metaphorical sense, of course. I’m not advocating everyone to sleep around. That’s just gross. But I am advocating that everyone should hold their heads high whenever they make a decision that isn’t popular or isn’t the smartest, and walk by their judgers. Yeah, people could react badly and be mad or judge you, but so what? Did the decision make you happy? Then don’t worry about what other people think.

In the end, all that matters is how you feel about yourself. Would it make you happier to eat four cupcakes after dinner (tried this once, and yup I was happier), or go up and talk to a random guy at a party (maybe without the intentions of performing the Walk of Shame the next morning)? So do it. Do you want to hang out with friends who your other friends don’t particularly like, or go somewhere where they don’t want to go? Go for it. Do whatever you can to make you happy, even if that means having the risk of being judged, or even making a mistake. People forgive, and we can learn.

Learn that our choices might not be the easiest to make, or the most popular, or the smartest, but if you feel you are completely happy with your choice, than it is the right one for you.

So next time you see someone performing “The Walk of Shame” don’t judge them—because they show us how to be happy with our choices, and how to rock high heels at 9 in the morning.

Family Rulez, Boyz Drool

If you're like me, you tend to dwell on things that should just be forgotten. Oops. But luckily I've received a reality check that has gotten me back to the "Old Hannah."

And I promise this will be my only post about heartbreak. Yuck, I know. But everyone could benefit from this, because I know there are some other "dwellers" out there.

My cousin came to visit me at school this weekend. We used to be inseparable before high school, but we went our separate ways and eventually found each other again recently. I learned a lot about her just from those three days—she has a great boyfriend (who was willing to drive three hours after her eight phone calls and fifteen text messages at 2 am: a definite keeper), she had to go through a lot of rough spots to get where she is today, and she can give some pretty damn good advice.

I hadn’t gotten any advice like this before—I guess it was more special because it was coming from someone so important to me, so completely honest and uncensored. She could see the hurt in my eyes, feel the pain I was hiding, and understand everything I was thinking. I was heartbroken, but I won’t go into any more details than that. For once, I felt as though I wasn’t being judged for how I was feeling or why I was upset. We sat in bed talking for three hours that night, and those three hours brought us closer than the twelve years of childhood we had together.

She told me about how she was heartbroken before, and how she felt exactly how I felt, so utterly defeated, used, and devastated. Relief sank in with every grueling detail she added to her past, knowing that if she made it through this than I can too.

But then when her stories came to an end, she said something that really stuck with me: it upset her to see me like this because she knew I was never the girl to let a boy bring me down. I used to get up and move on from rejection, like it was nothing. I used to know that if it didn’t work out, it just meant there was something better for me coming next. But now I’m this girl, almost dwelling on something that just isn’t, and letting this dominate my life. I needed to be reminded that I am still that girl; the one she knows she’s really special and important, the one who knows if the guy doesn’t realize it, it’s time to find the one who does.

Luckily, she gave me a reality check. She told me that I am this wonderful, beautiful, smart, passionate person that anyone would be lucky to have. I have a great family, a good head on my shoulders, and a bright future. And if this boy doesn’t want me, then fine. You are wasting your time on a person who is blind to what you can offer, and will just miss out on such a great girl. I needed to be strong and move on, because in reality, it’s his loss.

She then told me how she’s so happy with her current boyfriend, how he loves her and knows how special she is. She doesn’t ever think about the boy who broke her heart, which is something she never would’ve thought could happen at the time. On top of all of this, she told me about how that boy texted her after he saw she was in a relationship, five years later. He wanted to know if it was serious—because he finally realized how great of a girl she was, and wanted to be with her.

She looked at me and smiled, telling me how great it was to tell the boy who broke her heart that she was over him and not interested at all. She told him she finally found the guy who wasn’t blinded to what she could offer; he knew she was wonderful, beautiful, smart, and passionate. It was too late for him to get her back; he had lost her chance with her forever.

Not only did I reestablish my relationship with her, but I got some of the best advice in a long time. I guess you can say I’m back to my old self—I know what I have and who deserves it.

This boy who broke my heart shouldn’t deserve any more of my time. I’m waiting for the next thing life throws at me, knowing I can expect greater things from here. I just can’t wait to get that text from him, telling me he knows he missed out on such a great girl.

Because the only reply he’s going to get is, “Sorry, but you’re too late.”

Happiness Your Way

Do what you love doing, no matter what other people say. It's your life, not theirs. So prove them wrong, use their doubt as motivation, and be sucessful where they thought you would fail.

As a college student, you are guaranteed to get asked one question multiple times: what is your major? It’s the go-to question for everyone, whether you’re at a party, applying for a job, or talking to your Great Aunt Gertrude at the family reunion.

For some, answering this question may exert a sense of pride, confidence, or arrogance. Every time you have the chance to say you are a  business major, health sciences major, engineering major, or a computer science major, a feeling of satisfaction crawls deep under your skin as fast as your future paycheck will grow. When you tell strangers you’re planning on being a doctor, or an accountant, or an engineer, they look at you like wow—this kid is going places.

For others, answering this question could be more difficult. Whether you are undecided or are studying a career field which others don’t believe is important, you feel embarrassed or ashamed telling people your major. I used to be in this category; telling people I was a writing major usually resulted in them saying, “Oh, isn’t that just a hobby?” or “There aren’t any real jobs out there for that major, are there?” or the ever hurtful reply of just, “Huh..” There were no wows or impressive gasps, just a look of puzzlement and a lack of amazement. People weren’t impressed with my career choice and doubted my decisions. This started to make me doubt myself as well.

 It was so much worse when you were surrounded with friends who were business or health majors, because I just looked like the unmotivated, stupid, and unsuccessful student compared to them. Getting these types of reactions definitely hindered my confidence in what I wanted to do, and I almost switched majors in order for others to be happy with what I was doing.

But then I realized it wasn’t up to others to decide what I should pursue. I know with all my heart that I want to be a writer. Not an accountant, not a doctor, and not a computer genius.  No amount of judging looks or disconcerting questions should ever sway what I love doing. Okay, it will be difficult to find a job right out of college or land that internship with Seventeen Magazine. But just because it seems unlikely for me to achieve doesn’t mean that I have to give up trying altogether.

All of these forces pushing against me, like my parents, the likeliness of getting a job, and even my friends having great majors, only push me harder in the direction I want to go in. I want to show them that I can do this—that my determination is stronger than any doubt crossing my path. I want all the people who reacted unimpressed when I said, “I’m going to be a writer,” to see my name in the magazines or on the front cover of a book and say “Wow, she was right.” I want all the people who told me I couldn’t do it, who told me that I should just resort to getting a decent job with my looks, and how I should just marry a rich man in order to be happy, to see that my desired path in life will make me even happier.

With this new found desire to prove everyone wrong, I’m no longer embarrassed when I tell people my major. So what if I’m not among the elite business CEOs or the brain surgeons or the Apple software creators?  I’m happy with the direction I’m headed, even if it’s a little less planned out or guaranteed than if I had a business degree.

So go ahead: doubt me, question me, and bring me down all you want.

I am going to be a writer.

Beyonce Who?

I think it's time to give all you people a little tough love. The facebook statuses have really raised a red flag, and quite frankly, you're giving the female population a bad rep. Stop feeling bad about the five pounds you've gained (those Big Macs were pretty damn good), or the fact you don't have a boyfriend (boys suck anyways). You're not getting the attention you deserve with this negative outlook you have on yourself.
No one is going to love you if you can’t love yourself.

Here’s your morning routine, right? Get up, eat, brush your teeth, and get dressed. But somewhere between cleaning those pearly whites and tying your last shoe lace, you do something that should not be a part of your morning: you judge, critique, and envision yourself looking different than you do. But however wrong that habit is, you just know that you’d be more beautiful with blue eyes instead of brown, or if you were a little bit taller, or if you were five pounds thinner.

While you’re going down the check list of things you want to change about yourself, you are doing more than envisioning a different you: you aren’t embracing the beautiful things you offer to the world right now. So what if your hair isn’t as long as you’d like it to be, or if you’re not as tan as that one girl, or if you hate the gap in your teeth. There are people in the world who think you’re beautiful the way you are right now, so why can’t you see it?

When I see Facebook statuses about how girls think they’re so ugly or fat, or the reason why a certain guy doesn’t like them is because of the way they look, I get concerned about these insecure thoughts. First of all, if I see one more post from a skinny, blonde, pretty girl about being ugly, I might scream. You are beautiful to begin with, and your negative outlook on yourself just makes you ugly. So, seriously, stop with the depressing status. (My newsfeed is starting to look like a teenaged girl’s diary. Not cool.)

Second of all, if you’re worried that a guy doesn’t like you because of your looks, he isn’t good enough for you to begin with! Cliché or not, you want to find someone who wants to be with you, without caring about how you look in a little black dress or tight jeans. (Which are both uncomfortable anyways. So find a guy who likes you in sweats. That guy is definitely a keeper.)

Instead of always worrying about what you look like, or how much you eat, or what other people think of you, start loving what you already offer. Whether it’s how great you play a sport, how awesome you can sing, or how much you love to write (holler), be happy with what you can put out there so people can appreciate you.

But before anyone can appreciate who you are, you have to realize you are perfect the way you are. (Don’t believe me? Just ask Bruno Mars.) Okay, you don’t look like Giselle Bundchen or Beyoncé, but in reality, what normal person does? Unless you have a bazillion dollars to spend on a killer wardrobe, stylist, and personal trainer, you can’t look like that. So end your wish list of the things you want to look like, and make a list of the things you love about yourself. Love you freckles? Your smile? Your red hair? Embracing the qualities you have only radiates confidence and self-assurance, which are qualities that actually attract the boys or friends , and will just make you plain happier. (And who doesn’t want to be happy? I mean, you are reading my blog, AKA happiness on a webpage...)

So enough with the depressing statuses and the unnecessary morning routine of judging yourself. The statuses just make me angry and the judging just adds a few extra minutes more than you need in the morning, so cut the crap. Be happy with who you are right now. You can offer things that even Giselle and Beyoncé can’t offer. Accept your flaws, love your uniqueness. Chances are that certain boy, your friends, and the world have.

We’re all just waiting on you.

Fortunate Failure

Obviously it sucks to fail. But instead of crying in the fetal position for five hours about it, gather up the strength and determination to try it again, only ten times better than you did before. Okay, so you don't want to risk the embarrassment of failing again, but what if you pass up an opportunity of success? To me, that's worse than the risk of failing twice. You only fail if you give up trying.

Failure.

What an awful, cringe-worthy, terrible word. Whether it is a big, fat red “D” on your math test, a missed goal kick from only a few feet away, or not achieving that one thing you wanted more than anything in the world—you failed.

What should you do now? Burn your math test? Hide in shame from your teammates? Or call your parents and sob on the phone until you feel slightly better? I mean, you have no other choice, right?

Yeah, you feel pretty sucky and you know that your parents definitely like your sibling better after you bombed the test, and the coach regrets ever letting you join the team, and you definitely can’t do anything you want anymore because you’ll just fail again. But have you ever thought that maybe getting a bad grade or missing a goal wasn’t failure—but instead you fail by giving up on yourself afterwards?

By no means did I have this outlook on failure before. I was that pathetic girl who called her parents sobbing because the newspaper didn’t want to take my story. I felt as though my passion, talent, and motivation weren’t good enough, so I ultimately failed. I wanted to give up.

But then my dad told me something worthwhile: you only fail if you give up trying.

Huh.

Once I dramatically hung up the phone and dried the rest of my tears away, I started thinking. Maybe he’s right: sure, the newspaper didn’t want to publish my work, but that doesn’t mean I’m a bad writer. So do I give up on something I love to do just because of one rejection? Hell no.

I make a blog. (And the first story is the rejected one from the newspaper. Oh, they’ll regret their rejection once I become a famous blogger. Muahaha). Creating this blog gave me a new strength and happiness that I thought could only be achieved if I was published in the newspaper. But I was wrong—if I had given up after that, I would have never known how great it would feel to write for myself in this blog.

So while you’re sitting alone feeling sorry for yourself after your infamous D on your math test (for the record, it was a D+…that counts for something, right?),  or about how you missed the biggest goal of the game, or about the story you passionately wrote that didn’t make it into the paper, think about what you just experienced.  

You were momentarily knocked down, but that doesn’t mean you have to stay down.  You have the strength to keep going, so rub the dirt off, and get back up. If you don’t taste failure, you’ll never be able to savor success. So don’t give up, or else you really did fail.

I mean, take it from Chumbawumba: you get knocked down, but you get up again. And you’ve got to listen to a band with a name like that.

Green Means Go

Here it is: the long awaited first blog. Okay, maybe not the "long awaited" blog, but it is the first one. Ever. After reading it, all you lovely people will understand why it's called the "Green Light Diaries."

So go ahead, get reading.

Okay, so you have a huge test coming up and you have to spend the next 48 hours in Carrier trying to study. But not only that, you have rush events the next two nights, a group meeting tomorrow, and you have to squeeze in Skyping your mom. And to top it all off, you just found out the cutie in your history class has a girlfriend. Whomp whomp whomp.

With this laundry list of things to do, you can do one of two things: have a complete mental breakdown (which may or may not include: hair pulling, hysterical crying, gulping down a box of Oreos, and/or pacing back and forth thinking “walking it off” will help), or step back from the madness and appreciate what comes easy in life: happiness. Okay, you’re right: I guess I can’t say all happiness comes easy in life. A lottery ticket for a billion dollars won’t mysteriously appear in your calculus book or your crush in history class won’t break up with his girlfriend because he’s suddenly fallen in love with you. But there are some things that are more likely to ease the fifty pound load on your back if you just take a second to notice them.

Trust me: I’m the same stressed out, bummed out, and freaked out college student, just like everyone else on campus. So, naturally, I was driving home from campus today in the absolute worst mood ever. I was going down the list of things I still had to do, all while sneezing and coughing from this confusing valley weather. While I was mentally cussing out innocent drivers, I noticed that I was already on Port Republic Road without hitting one red light. I kept driving past the Outpost and made it all the way to South View without stopping once. Okay seriously, how many times has that happened? Or how many times has that happened and you actually noticed it? The thought of making it all the way home without one red light (and one pretty great song on the radio) made me forget all my assignments that are due and actually made me smile. I never would have thought that one simple thing could make the anxiety of a swamped college student disappear.

Knowing that this little phenomenon eased some of the stress taking over my life, I tried to notice and embrace the other little stuff that could make me happier. Whether it was how I got the butterflies in my stomach driving down the hill on Cantrell, or how it was so great to get the first piece of pizza out of the oven at E-Hall, or finally getting the last jug of Arnold Palmer at Food Lion. All of these little things made my day a little more bearable, as if somehow their little simple magic paused my life for a little and forced me to take a breath—a real deep breath—and realize it will be okay. No amount of math problems, pages to be read, or heartbreak can completely break me down.

Try to notice how little, everyday things can make you feel so happy in stressful times. How great did you feel after checking your mailbox for days to finally see a letter (even if it was a flyer from Domino’s), or how relieved did you feel when you typed that last sentence of an impossible five page essay? Chances are you felt so great. The stress, the frustration, the bad mood, and doubt all just fled your mind for a moment while you embraced the simple things that make you happy.

So while you’re stuck on the second floor of Carrier for the third night in a row, barely staying awake and noticing you should probably take a break to shower, remember to take note of the simple things that can make you smile, even if it’s just for a second. Because while you’re getting carried away with the papers that are due, or the boys (or girls) who aren’t interested, or the weather that can’t make up its mind, there’s always a way to make you happy.

So throw your stuffed bookbag in the back seat, blast the music with the windows down, and enjoy every green light you get to cruise through until you get home.