Goodbye GenXYZProject.blogspot.com...Hello GenXYZProject.com!!!

Hey peeps,

Our new website located at http://www.genxyzproject.com/ is up and running! All GenXYZ Project posts will be placed on the new site going forward.

Thank you so much for your ongoing support. We love you!!

Keepin it real,

GenXYZ, GenXYZ Junior, and Lil' GenXYZ

My Dating Dealbreaker

Imagine that you’re sitting across from someone you’re pretty excited about. You’re on date one or two, you think he/she is hot, you seem to have things in common. And then—cue the 80’s-slasher-flick music—you learn or see something about them that stops you dead in your tracks. You know that you might as well throw down your napkin, ask for the check, and go your separate ways, because it ain’t happening. In other words, you encounter a dating deal breaker.

We all have them. For GenXYZ, it’s when an otherwise attractive guy smiles to reveal a horrible Austin Powers-esque grill. For Gen XYZ Junior, it’s when a dude sends an email or text fraught with misspellings and grammatical errors. And for me, it’s when a guy reveals that his favorite bands are Nickelback, Creed, and Papa Roach. Gag.

I have a weird thing about music. I grew up listening to the best of 90’s alternative grunge/rock and learned to hate most of the generally auto-tuned, uninspiring, untalented, and commercialized musicians of the 2000’s. So I could never seriously entertain the idea of being with someone who would want to listen to Lil Wayne or Hinder whenever we were in the car together. I just think that the type of music you like says a lot about you as a person—whether you’re a party animal, laid-back, or simply conventional. It also indicates whether you have a creative bone in your body. I’ve always been drawn to creative types—it soothes my inner Zooey Deschanel-wannabe.

That’s why I knew I was in trouble when I met Sam. He has great taste in music (not to mention killer guitar skills). He liked some bands that were familiar to me—Radiohead, The Cure, Smashing Pumpkins, and Mazzy Star—but also introduced me to amazing bands that were obscure yet unpretentious, like Joy Division, Adorable, and my all-time favorite, Broken Social Scene. When he gave me a mixed CD with some of his favorite songs after about a month of dating, I stayed awake all night listening to it over and over. At that point I was an absolute goner. It may sound strange, but our shared love of music played a serious role in our relationship.

So if you have a six-figure salary, perfectly-chiseled abs, and hell, even if you’re reasonably nice and smart, but Linkin Park is currently playing on your iPod—well, let’s just say we’re better off as friends. That’s my weird dating deal breaker—what’s yours?

Catch ya later,

Lil’ Gen XYZ

           

A Bachelor's Degree in Waiting Tables

I was looking at my planner today and realized something unsettling: I’m two months short of two year anniversary out of college. First thought: I feel old as shit. Second thought: Where the hell has all that time gone? When I think about it, I guess I’ve experienced a lot. I moved across the country and made new friends. I got engaged. I’ve had numerous jobs. But on the whole, the direction my life is as uncertain as it was the day I shook hands with the Dean in front of my beaming family and friends.

Today, at 4 PM, I’m going to change into a white men’s dress shirt with a vest and tie. I’m going to put on my black slacks and black shoes. Then I’m going to drive to the upscale steak and seafood restaurant where I work. I’ll polish some silverware, fold some napkins, and spend the rest of the night running food and talking about the wet aging process of our steaks. Let me tell you, this isn’t exactly what I pictured for myself.

I often soothe my wounded pride by reminding myself that being a waitress isn’t so bad. But whenever I have time to think, I find myself wondering about what the hell I’m doing. Grad school seems like the only sane option, but honestly, I’m not even that excited about it. I know that I should be grateful for what I have already: a great relationship, a loving and supportive family, and a handful of amazing friends. But it’s not enough. My lack of a clear career path feels like a huge gaping hole in my life—and ego.

It seems like I’m not the only one dealing with these enormous questions. All the friends I made in college and post-college are uncertain about their future, too, at least professionally. And I’m not just talking about 22 or 23-year-olds—I have four good friends (off the top of my head) between 25 and 30 who are lost, career-wise, as well. What is it about us? Why the uncertainty? Is this lack of a clear-cut career and the resulting identity crisis a commonplace experience—or is it unique to our generation and our society, at this precise moment in time?

Who knows the right answers to these questions. At the very least, I hope I hang up my damn server uniform soon, or I’m calling my alma mater and asking for my money back.

Catch ya later,

Lil' GenXYZ

16 & Pregnant Has Nothin' On This Mama

Outside of getting drunk a few nights ago, I've recently been on a bit of a health kick. After stumbling upon an article in Women's Health magazine, I realized that one thing I could do to improve my mind, body, and spirit was to start drinking more water. So, I started drinking water. A lot of water. So much that I felt like I was on my eighth month of pregnancy with triplets, which wasn't a big deal until I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

As I looked at my water-swollen stomach, I couldn't help but think that if I ever get pregnant, this is what I would look like. And then I lost it. Pregnant?! No way. I just graduated college! Well, like seven years ago, but so what?! I'm only 28! Im too young! Well, by most standards, I'm getting a little old, but who's counting?! Pregnant, baby, diapers, noooooo!!!! I threw on sweat pants and practically fell out my front door trying to jog off my water baby. I came back from my jog with a smaller water baby, but my skin still crawling from the experience. And then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

To an extent, I am a commitment-phobe. I don't like living in one place or having one job position for too long. Along with moving a bunch comes a lack of commitment towards people, namely many old friends that I lose touch with once they're not within driving distance. And even though my boyfriend and I have been together for three and a half years, we're nowhere closer to getting engaged, mostly because I'm not pushing for it like a lot of chicks my age. I sometimes feel like I'm the weird one because I'm fine with renting, not buying, living with my boyfriend, instead of living with my fiancé, being a bartender/aspiring entrepreneur instead of a manager or director, and having a rotating door of people in my life.

Maybe one day, I'll want to settle down and have all the things that everyone else seems to have, especially the cute baby/family pictures that everyone is posting on Facebook lately. But until then, back off Mom and Dad, don't judge Friends Who Have Taken A Different Path and Everyone please, let me do me for awhile longer.

Keepin it real,
GenXYZ

If You Are 120lbs and Under, Please Go Away.

After carefully reviewing multiple locations, spaces, and prices, I narrowed my choices down to one. The ceilings were tall, the windows let in the cool ocean breeze, and depite the fact that the bathroom was a little crappy, everything felt right. Thankfully, the contract didn't take as long to fill out, which left me ample time to walk around at my soon-to-be-new-home, Shock Fitness. After working out in my last gym, which was located in the middle of Hollywood, it felt great to walk around a "real" gym, where the equipment is old school, the people looked normal, and everyone seemed to be there to...well...work out.

I was basking in my found-a-normal-new-gym glory when I turned the corner and ran into my workout nightmare; the real gym-goers of Shock Fitness. With each of their mats lined up side by side, I watched thirty tightly toned bodies gracefully dive into the Downward Dog position. As they pointed their perfectly manicured toes up and their perfectly combed ponytails back, I couldn't help but notice how perfect their asses looked in what seemed to be endless miles of spandex. I wondered if I could talk the membership guy into a return policy.

Back in the day, the gym used to be my Mecca. I could spend hours running on the treadmill listening to 90s alternative and attempting to lift weights wearing a crappy t-shirt drenched with sweat. The gym was a place that I could work out my frustrations and stress, and I never had to worry about wearing a matching spandex ensemble. Since moving to Cali, walking into a gym actually stresses me out. Everyone looks amazing with their perfectly gelled hair, flawless makeup, and shorts short enough to be worn at strip clubs. So, my question is where are all the real people? You know, the ones that actually need to go to the gym? Well, if they're anything like me, they are probably sitting at home, bemoaning the stupid gym, exercising their biceps by reaching into a bag of chips and wishing bathing suit season would come and go fast. In the meantime, if anyone feels like starting a normal-bodies-only gym, please let me know. I'll pay double for a membership!

Keepin it real,
GenXYZ