I want to like you. I really do, and there are traits I do like.

However, I can’t get past the way you run your mouth. There’s nothing wrong with being opinionated. Most of the time, I appreciated a man who knows his core values and doesn’t apologize for what he believes in.

That’s sexy. That’s having a back bone.

Oh and I just know what you’re going to say. I just don’t like it when you disagree with me, but that is not the case.

Challenge me. Get the wheels in my head a turnin’. Don’t defer to what I have to say. Don’t ever blindly accept what you hear word of mouth or what you read in the news.

I’m secure with myself and my thoughts to be questioned about why I think the way I do. I won’t be offended, not in the least, if you have a differing opinion from my own.

I like that. You’re educated. You read between the lines.

The problem I have is that you will not shut up about your political agenda. And that’s exactly what it is…an agenda. 

Can’t we talk about something else for a change? A new book that you’ve read, perhaps? Your relationship with your mom? Sports even, which goes to show just how much I want you to quit the rambling. I hate sports, but I’d prefer talking about them to anything else you have to say involving politics.

Anything to get the conversation away from another one of your lectures.

Believe me, the world is not going to end with a change in presidency, with a new bill being proposed at the Senate, or a change in foreign policy. It’s not even going to end with a tweet. Surprising, I know.

Yours and my life will still be as it is right now, so why can’t we talk about something, anything pertaining to us in the now?

Oh. Stop your squabbling. It’s not that politics aren’t important, and yes, changes in the government do affect us all in some way.

But it’s not all I want to talk about when I’m alone with you, and it seems that’s all you want to talk about.

What really worries me is that you’re so opinionated at this age. A person’s interest in politics only increases with age. Think about it. Seniors have nothing better to do than to listen in on the morning news and with hands on their hips, spout and spew their complaints to anyone and everyone who will listen about their politics. They have all the time in the world. They can do that.

You, however, still can do so much more you can do and think about with your life. You are a young and able-bodied man who can have so many more interests, but if you’re like this now, I can only imagine how much worse you’ll be as the years go by. 

Please find a filter soon because I can’t handle it anymore. It makes me not want to be around you. I feel like anything I say will somehow turn into a social studies pop quiz, and I just want to relax when I’m talking to you.

Let’s get down to it: If you can’t be well-rounded individual who can speak on a variety of topics, then I can promise you, I’m going to walk. I have better things to do than hear another one of your campaigns. 

Let’s keep it light, let’s keep it casual. So, stop with your political agenda otherwise my ears will be forever turned off.

For more of Brit Bandana’s writing, follow her on her Facebook page. 

I think of you less now… something I’m still getting used to, especially when you were the first thing that crossed my mind as I awoke in the morning and the last thing I thought of with my eyes closed. 

Something about you always lingered on my mind.

That’s not the case now, which if I'm being honest, I'm pretty grateful for. 

I was living in the past, haunted by the memories of you and I, and that was so wrong—having my body in one space in time with my heart in another. A time that is long gone and cannot be recreated no matter how hard I tried.

And yes, I did try.  At one point, you did, too. 

Not anymore, though. 

Now, the dial tone cuts short and I’m immediately sent to voicemail. Now I hear the busy tone and an automated voice that says, I’m sorry this number is not in service. 

At first, I was really hurt. It felt like a cold blade to the chest, yet my heart kept beating in an even more determined pulse. 

I used to lay awake at night in a ball of anxiety. How could he do this to me? Did I do something wrong? 

And, as many times as I've gone over it and over it again, I've come to realize that there really wasn't anything I could've done different. We were over, and I had to face that fact. 

There wasn't anything you could have done differently either. We were both drowning in what could have been that we weren't seizing what could be right now. 

So, I don't blame you for blocking me. You did it to survive so that we could both move on. I'm just sorry I couldn't have returned the favor. I wasn't strong enough to do it. 

You did though, and I thank you for that. 

You're not all I think about now.

I'm able to think clearer now. I can look around and see what else is out there—even if all that is out there at the present moment is a long-winded night talking with dear friends without you once coming across my mind. 

Falling asleep at night with no anxiety, no second thoughts. Only the day's events.  

This is what I needed, and I had no idea how badly I needed it. Now that I have it, there's no way I could go back to the way things were. 

You helped me heal. You allowed me the space to move on. I may not have done it all the way, but I'm getting there. Which I never would've been able to do if we were still talking to one another.

You've given me peace, and I hope you've found yours, too. Thank you for my ex-love, forever blocked but forever grateful.

For more of Brit Bandana's writing, follow her on her Facebook page.

Let’s get one thing straight.

If you’re passionate about life in general, helping others, creating, loving, really into the world at large then by all means, tell me all about it.

Except if you brew homemade root beer…then save that one for yourself.

My god, when did we get so conceited?

Anyone see the recent, Everyday make up tutorial? It’s a video on YouTube (And yes. It makes me cringe that she didn’t capitalize her own video.) But, shade aside, check it out. So funny and so absolutely spot on. YouTuber, Tanya Hennessy, uploaded it to her channel, and it essentially makes fun of our generation’s make-up routine.

Basically because none of us (myself included, mind you) post pictures or videos of ourselves without hours long facial and hair preparation. 

Because why bother? Unless everyone, their mother, friend, and cousin are gonna like our post?

Yeah I went there, and it’s true.

What Tanya does so brilliantly is expose how us girls do our make-up, and while we may have the best intentions at hand…we have no fucking idea what we’re doing. 

The end though of her video hits the closest to home, and that part is in which she pokes fun at online personalities who monetize on their appearance by taking ridiculous, conceited selfies of their plucked & plugged mugs.

Now, I have a confession to make. I recently went to LA. 

I know, crucify me now. 

What can I say to condone my actions? Not much I’ll grant you, but the American Dream was glowing in the back of my mind with stars shining in front, and I thought all my dreams would come true the second I stepped out of my cab. (Lyft. But, you know, I grew up on movies from the 90s. So as far as I’m concerned, it was a cab.)

I went out with my friend and stayed with two very talented Youtubers who were kind enough to allow me to stay at their home. 

They are not who I have a problem with, it was everyone else I met in LA who made my skin crawl. 

No one there asked me how I was doing today. I kid you not. Not one soul. Not even my generous hosts. 

And I had to wonder, as Carrie Bradshaw might, of this was just how LA inherently was. 

Hey, I went home and realized that these thoughts, unconsciously at first, then everyday forefront, were right at my door. 

My goodness, how people want to talk about themselves.

Whether it be LA, my hometown, or the city I currently live, all I hear about, day-in and day-out, are people’s lives. With no thoughts or consideration of my own. Or your own or for anyone else’s for that matter.  

And I’ve reached a breaking point where I cannot take it anymore.

If you’re not going to ask about my day, I will not hear yours. Get your head out-of-the mirror and learn some manners. We’re all begging you.

Conceited isn’t a lifestyle, it’s a sickness. Go see a doctor.

With love from people who don’t care anymore… XOXO.

For more of Brit Bandana’s writing, follow her on her Facebook page.

It’s not those we date who hurt us the most, but our friends. Or more accurately, our almost friends.

Like…I only wanted to talk to you. See you from time to time. Share some stories and enjoy some laughs together. 

Who are you that you’re so busy you can’t sit down for brunch with me? 

Let’s be honest here: I was never your friend. Not really…even though I thought we were. 

I was only there when you needed someone and not even me in particular…just anyone to pass your free time. 

I was conveniently located, and when I was not? You conveniently walked right out the door. 

How opportune of you.

The thing about me is, is that I don’t treat people with indifference. I truly care about them, even if I don’t particularly like them. I still give people the time of day because that’s what they deserve.

After all I gave to you, I didn’t deserve the cold shoulder, and I know that I shouldn’t be giving more to someone than they give to me. I know that. I’ve heard the rule.

But, I can’t help it. I want to connect with people. As many as I can and sometimes, we’ve got to give more than we receive to reap the benefits. 

Yet, there were no benefits to you, and once again life has shown me not to expect anything from anyone. Not to rely on a single soul.

Sorry but I can’t be like you. I won’t. I’m not a person of convenience. I’m a person, and I will not ever treat someone with as much indifference as you’ve shown me. 

Say what you will, but I care too much. I don’t have people in my life for convenience…acquaintances, friends or lovers alike. 

I don’t have people like how I was to you 

For more of Brit Bandana’s writing, follow her on her Facebook page.

Maybe you haven’t gone out in awhile, and tonight’s the night you need to cut loose. Or maybe you’ve had a real rough week at work, or maybe this is just your typical Friday routine…

Whatever the case, you should realise your bartender isn’t in the same boat as you. To them, this is their place of work, their job; and they are not here just for tonight but five times a week.

They’re not balls to the wall, cutting loose. They’re doing their job, and if you want to keep them happy, then you should know these 10 things. Acknowledging the unique environment of bartending in Canada adds another layer to this understanding. Canadian bartenders, like their global counterparts, approach their craft with skill and dedication. Working in a diverse and dynamic industry, bartenders in Canada navigate the intricacies of mixology and customer service.

Tipping is not optional, it’s required.

In Europe, tipping is not a real thing? Fascinating. But we’re not in Europe, are we? And bartenders don’t make minimum wage because of our tipping economy. So, don’t be a jackass and leave a tip. (One drink is equal to $1, just so you know.)

Don’t be afraid to ask for variations.

A friend of mine’s favourite drink is a Negroni with a flip. A ‘flip’ for those who don’t know, means shaken with an egg white…Nasty. Now, this is not my drink of choice by any means, but this is this guy’s favorite. It only takes one extra ingredient to make his beverage perfect, so his bartender can easily do this. Know this, your bartender wants you to actually enjoy your drink. They won’t mind adding a variation or two, so don’t be too shy to ask.

Say what you mean.

In addition to this, we want you to say exactly what it is you want. A half glass of wine means something totally different to each person (I tend to over pour. Sorry not sorry.) Stating that you’d like only two fingers of wine in your glass or a straw-ful of water in your whiskey may seem wayy too picky to the person behind you in line, but it actually helps us out a lot. Now, we can actually make your drink with specific measurements. (Believe it or not, bartenders follow recipes.)

Don’t be a micro-manager.

So…we’ve got your drink order. Great. Don’t be hovering over us as we make it. Case and point: you’d like a half glass of wine? OK. But don’t be staring at us shouting “That’s enough! That’s enough!” if we happen to accidentally add a few extra drops. You don’t have to drink it all, so chill.

If you don’t know what you want…

Do not hold up the line because we will skip over you. If you get to the bar and dawdle or are being rude, chatting up your friend…we’ll move on. Pay attention, damnit, we have things to do.

If you need advice on what to drink…ask for a recommendation.

If you truly don’t know (and honestly, even as a bartender, I don’t know what I want half the time…) have a conversation with us.

Like this:

“I love IPA’s, what do you recommend?”

“I’ve been drinking white wine all night, but would like to switch to liquor. What do you recommend? I like whiskey and tequila.”

Do not tell us ‘Whatever.’

I can’t tell you how badly this irritates us. There are hundreds of options. We don’t know what you like. Tell us either wine, beer, liquor; sweet, sour, bitter, strong, or weak. Give us something, but don’t give us whatever…

If you don’t like the drink…

One: do not finish it. No need to chug unnecessary alcohol that could potentially get you sick. Two: feel free to ask for something different. Bring the drink back up to the bar and say its not for you. Politely ask us to make it less sweet or less strong. We will work with you. (Also, HUGE bonus points if you say, “you can use the same glass.” Like 50 points to Gryffindor. We wash those glasses. The less we have to do, the cheerier we shall be.)

When we cut you off…it’s not because we’re trying to be dicks.

Shocking, right? No, we HAVE to cut you off. If we keep serving you, we put our license at risk, we put our job at risk, we put you at risk, and we put everyone you come into contact with at risk. It’s a safety concern. The end.

Never, EVER, fight with your bartender.

We’ve given you water to drink? Drink it. We told you to wait a half hour until we’ll serve you again. Go sit back down. We’ve cut you off and asked you to leave? Go the fuck home.

Don’t fuck with us because we have all the power. We can either make all your dreams come true or ruin your night, so don’t piss us off. Just be sure to follow these 10 rules, and we’ll make sure you have a good time.

For more of Brit Bandana’s writing, follow her on her Facebook page.

You weren’t there. You don’t know how it’s been, what I’ve been through. How I’ve handled things.

You haven’t seen me grow, progress. You didn’t witness my transformation.

You were gone, and now I’m a whole new me. 

Quite frankly, I can’t pin point when exactly I changed. At what juncture, I moved forward. 

Maybe it was the years that wore on my body, maturity edging my mind. 

Or perhaps, maybe with one tug, or two, or three; the straw finally broke the camel’s back, and I was able to trudge slowly but surely forward. 

One step at a time, I made my way.

It didn’t happen all at once, but with many footfalls. At first, I was snail-like, and then, as my feet grew seasoned, I became confident, trusting the road I traveled as the right bringing myself closer to the light.

And I reached where I am at today. 

You don’t know me now. I am not the girl I had once been. I don’t even recognize her anymore.

Alright, sure. I know she was me that I was her. But she was a phase, nothing more. A fragment of the woman I was yet to become and have yet to be.

You can quote me all you like. I don’t still think that way. You can list my past grievances and slip-ups. Go ahead, I don’t care.

Those actions are not apart of me, and they’re so far behind me, they can’t phase me anymore.

I’m not in that place. I am not her. 

Look at me as I am now because that’s the only person who’s here. Not her. Me. 

Learn me anew and respect me for all that I am because what happened in the past, yes, it did shape me. Without, I wouldn’t be here now. But, believe me when I say that who’s present today is the only person who matters, and I’ll only get better with time. 

The past has proved just that.

For more of Brit Bandana’s writing, follow her on her Facebook page.

For a minute there, I blamed myself…

…but only for a minute.

I mean, I clearly did something to tick you off. Why else would you want to leave?

And then, I got to thinking, it’s really not my loss, is it? If you’re ready to shut the door on us, why should I stop you? Why would I put myself out there when you're obviously not in it for the long haul.

The truth is, I’m willing to work on it. If a relationship is worth having, then compromise is necessary. 

We’re trying to find a place in the other person’s lives that wasn’t there before. Space must be made.

However, if you’re already halfway out the door without so much as a ‘let’s problem solve,’ then why would I fight for you?

I won’t. I don’t need to. If you’re not even remotely convinced that you want me at this juncture, then, by all means, hit the road.

Because I can work on things, figure shit out. I can compromise and say I’m sorry. I can make amends make amends. 

I'll switch up my schedule to make time for you or sacrifice a portion of my time to make you happy. 

But, I can’t change who I am or my true nature, and I’m not going to try and convince you that I am, in fact, the person you want to be with.

Walking away before we’ve even begun, that’s a red flag. A big one as far as I'm concerned. 

I shouldn’t have to feel like I did anything wrong, and truthfully, I haven’t.

I am who I am. I am here, I can try, but that’s all I can promise. I cannot morph into the person you want. If you’ve already figured out that I’m not it, then see you fucking later.

I’m sick of apologizing for being me. I won’t do it, I can't do it. It’s really not worth my time.

Walk away if you want. I’m not going to stop you. My time’s too precious to be fighting for something and someone not worth having.

And if you’re willing to walk away so easily, then I can guarantee you're not something worth having.  

For more of Brit Bandana's writing, follow her on her Facebook page.

My mother started off this week by sending me a video of Oprah Winfrey’s life. 

She meant it as inspirational, but the only truly inspirational moment I received from this message was that my mother had finally figured out how to navigate Facebook’s Messenger. 

So, the video was a bust. Perhaps because housewives and the internet have been beating down Oprah Winfrey’s story to me since I was an adolescent. 

A story I haven’t yet heard though is Will Ferrell’s. 

Today I stumbled upon one of the greatest celebrity interviews I have seen to date. (Admittedly, late night talk shows are a guilty pleasure of mine.)

In the hopes of making your week a little bit brighter, I thought I’d share it with you. 

The video is of a recent interview with Conan O’brien and Will Ferrell. There are several key ingredients which make this video a worthwhile watch. 

For one, Will Ferrell’s face is painted like a tiger’s. His elaborate face painting during a television interview isn’t anything to gawk about. He’s known for his elaborate entrances and commitment to gimmicks while on a late night set. (Anyone remember the parrot, Professor Feathers?)

No, what makes Ferrell’s face painting substantially interesting is the artist’s choice of painting fangs on either side of Will’s mouth, which absolutely commits him to his role as feline. He actually looks like a kitty cat, no? 

(‘Alice in Wonderland’ remake, I’m voting Will Ferrell as the Cheshire Cat.)

Second, Ferrell seamlessly peppers in the phrase ‘on a lark,’ which I believe deserves applause in and of itself. 

However, what makes this video the most worthwhile watch of your week is that after we’ve gotten over the joking and face-painting shtick, there’s a real heartfelt message behind this interview. 

Ferrell reveals to Conan that a figure of encouragement in Ferrell’s career path came not from a professor of his own, but through a friend’s. 

In the video (attached below), Ferrell revisits a story only told to 2017’s graduating class at USC in which a college professor permitted Ferrell to an ongoing sketch, which interrupted this professor’s class on a monthly basis. 

Now, an audience member could believe that this is another of Ferrell’s far-fetched tales, another gimmick, like Professor Feather or the tiger face-painting if not for Ferrell’s commitment to repeatedly say the professor’s full name lest anyone should overlook it. 

Professor Ronald Gottesman. 

Granted, Ferrell makes a joke of his testament that, “He was instrumental in kind of allowing me to be me,” by grabbing Conan’s and Andy Richter’s hands. However, anyone can see that Ferrell was not joking, and that this was a figure in his history to be remembered. 

Like, Andy Richter says at the end of the clip, “God Bless Him,” and truly God bless anyone who encourages the different out there in our world, am I right?

Care to take a look? See it here: Will Ferrell’s College Janitor Prank.

For more of Brit Bandana’s writing, follow her on her Facebook page.

(Cover Image: Variety.)