You know the type — they stand so close that you could count their pores... or taste their lunch. And there's always the shuffle of uncertainty, mentally and physically, in response. Do I take a step back? Or would that make me seem insecure? Wait, is he/she touching my arm? No matter how much you like the person, your interactions will always be aca-awkward. You know, if you're into personal space and all.
See how I did that in the last blurb? It was adorable, right? Go on... try it. Putting the simple prefix "aca" in front of pretty much anything makes it more palatable. Admittedly, it works exceedingly well when it's coming from aca-adorable (yep, I went there) Skylar Astin.
There's something to be said for the power of positive thinking! You know — "If life gives you lemons, find someone life gave tequila and throw a party." Just do like Fat Amy does and find a way to find a bright spot in any situation — even one as dire as (cue dramatic music) nodes.
Nothing is sexier than confidence, right? If you're going to go for something, go for it with gusto — be it Hulking out on your blouse or rockin' the pelvis thrust. (Who says guys should have the patent on that move, anyway?)
It's like Eleanor Roosevelt said: "Do what you feel in your heart to be right — you'll be criticized anyway."
Albeit, quasi-tawdry dance moves probably weren't what she meant.
Sure, the quiet ones seem sweet. But beneath the surface, there could be lurking a pyromaniac womb predator. The soft-spoken ones are always hiding something — and that something just might be a dead body. Trust us — keep your distance from anyone who speaks at the decibel level of a dog whistle.
Sometimes, figuring out what the "right" decision is can be tricky. But just take a cue from Fat Amy: When in doubt, talk it out. Crystal meth? Bad idea. Hooking up with an aca-a-hole? Bad idea. That, my friends, is called aca-logical thinking.
If you say you don't love it, you're either lying or you're my Great Uncle Ricky. I challenge you to crank up the volume on Blackstreet's classic 1996 jam and find one person who doesn't know at least 84 percent of the lyrics. It's just one of those songs, man. Don't fight it — play on, playette.
It's not healthy to hold things in — it only leads to trouble. Whatever secrets you're harboring, you'd be best served to let them out. No good can come from keeping everything bottled up inside. After all, I think Pitch Perfect proved that eventually, all that pent-up-ness has to come out... and then you might find yourself making snow angels in a vomit stream the size of Justin Bieber.
A capella lovers — aka Gleeks — are kind of... well, bada**. Who knew, right? We all know Aubrey runs a tight ship, but she isn't the only one slinging a capella insults! Toners, pitch-slapped... who would have guessed Gleeks have their own naughty little language? It's like watching an epic round of dirty Mad Libs.
C'mon... how could you not love the final scene, in which the Barden Bellas kill the competition and Beca plants a big one on Jesse? It may have taken Beca a while to come around, but she finally got what Jesse and all of John Hughes' movies were showing her: The ending is the best part. And while some may argue otherwise, we dig endings because (to quote Semisonic) every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.
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