“Don't fall into the trap of thinking about politics in your workplace too much. Just work hard, be cheerful, ignore distractions.” -Mindy Kaling's advice for young women who want a career in her field.  Works for any field, we think.

"It’s senseless, at least in the absence of divine agency, to declare that any two people were made for each other, yet we say it all the time, to sustain our belief that it’s sensible for them to pair up. The conceit can turn the search for someone into a search for that someone, which is fated to end in futility or compromise, whether conducted on the Internet or in a ballroom. And yet people find each other, every which way, and often achieve something that they call happiness."

-"Looking for Someone: Sex, love and loneliness on the Internet" by Nick Paumgarten, The New Yorker

"There are the friends you meet for the occasional happy hour, and there are friends with whom you have longstanding Taco Tuesdays. Taco Tuesday means a bottle of wine for each person and peeling back the business-casual mask of the weekday while relaying mortifying tales of performed adulthood to one another. You hit reply all. You cried at your desk. You said “I love you” when you were unprepared or drunk or sober. Any day can be Taco Tuesday. These are the people who fill in your blanks. These are the right people." -What We Have Going for Us, the hairpin

the L word

"Sometimes people say they wish that there were other words for love in English, because in other languages it’s impossible to have relationship problems, I guess? But I really like how we use the same word to describe the swirling quasar of emotion we feel for our wives as we do to describe the way we feel about good pastrami. It’s a present reminder of how feeble language can be when trying to express what it feels like to love and yet how amazing it is that the three most treacly and bankrupt words in the language can, when said by the right person, explode a heart into a star."

-Ask a Dude, the Hairpin

Required Reading

Required reading for any woman who is, has been, or plans to be in a relationship.

I’m In A Great Relationship, So Can I Stop Freaking Out Now?

From the Frisky

Always know if the juice is worth the squeeze. You know what that means?

“Now I think moral fiber’s about finding that one thing you really care about. That one, special thing that means more to you than anything else in the world. And when you find her, you fight for her. You risk it all, you put her in front of everything, your life, all of it. And maybe the stuff you do to help her isn’t so clean. You know what? It doesn’t matter. Because in your heart you know, that the juice is worth the squeeze. That’s what moral fiber’s all about.”

Dating is really freaking hard.  Like much much harder than I ever imagined it to be.  I was in a relationship almost consecutively from the moment I turned 16 to the moment I turned 21.  During those years, I was content with my situation (for the most part) but always had these grandiose illusions of what joys singledom held.  I was jealous of my friends and their freedom to do whatever they please, with whomever they pleased.  In my ignorance, I thought that being single must be like one awesome, fun ride.  What I didn’t realize was that it was a ride for sure, just one of the rollercoaster variety.  I think the biggest problem is that it is a constant struggle to figure out if the juice is worth the squeeze.  You have to decide how much you’re willing to take before it’s just not worth it anymore.  Before you decide it’s just too much work and too little pay out.

I’m not saying that only the ones that text you back within five minutes are worth keeping…or that you have a right to tear them a new one if they don’t bend to your every wish.  Everyone is busy, some are straight up assholes, and sometimes luck is going to tell you that this just isn’t going to work out.  You need to decide where you fit on this continuum.  This doesn’t just apply to dating, it applies to most interactions you have.  As a twenty something, you’re starting a new life, one that isn’t molded by your college community.  Friendships and relationships are always going to take work.  But you have to decide if these new relationships you’re building are a good fit for your life.  I’m the kind of person that will probably not bend over backwards to find out about another person’s life.  This does not mean I don’t care about you.  But it does mean that I assume that if you have something important going on that you want me to know about, you will just tell me, because that’s what I do.  Friendships for me are not about boundaries and social constructs, they are about sharing life without filter, at breakneck speed, in a stream of conscious format.  If you can’t get on board with this, then we probably are not meant to be best friends.  I think the biggest part of this young life is being ok with things like that…knowing when things aren’t meant to be, when the juice just isn’t worth the squeeze, is one of the hardest things learn.

Dating is like this.  Yes, we were all raised to believe we were special and one of a kind; but, no, dating doesn’t make you feel like that is true.  But what you must realize is that dating DOES reinforce that.  We are all so one of a kind that not everyone fits perfectly with that.  There will be times when things are too hard…where no matter how hard you mash them together, those two puzzles pieces will never perfectly align.  But maybe that’s ok.  Even though it sucks and it hurts to throw that piece back in the box, maybe you’ll be less hurt/frustrated/annoyed/confused/bewildered/rage-black-out.  And in the end, you deserve to be really really outrageously happy, because you are one of a kind.

Rationalizations...

"If you have to ask someone to change, to tell you they love you, to bring wine to dinner, to call you when they land, you can't afford to be with them. It's not worth the price, even though, just like the Tiffany catalogue, no one tells you what the price is. You set it yourself, and if you're lucky it's reasonable. You have a sense of when you're about to go bankrupt.  Your own sense of self-worth takes the wheel and says, Enough of this shit. Stop making excuses.  No one's that busy at work. No one's allergic to whipped cream. There are too cell phones in Sweden. But most people don't get lucky. They get human. They get crushes. This means you irrationally mortgage what little logic you own to pay for this one thing. This relationship is an impulse buy, and you'll figure out if it's worth it later."

-Sloane Crosley

The Business of Being Twenty-Something

Sometimes I get really ahead of myself about things.  For instance, when I was searching for a new job, every time I would go on an interview somewhere I would launch into incessant planning of how I was going to quit my current job, how I would commute to the new job, what things I could do after work (based on new job’s better location), etc.  All of these things were a little too far in the future to seriously be thinking about.  After all, I didn’t even HAVE the new job to begin with…making all of my plans completely moot.  I’m not really sure why I do this, it probably has something to do with being really nervous about what’s *currently* going on in my life.  Go figure, I like to escape reality.

So this weekend, upon my roommate’s suggestion, we watched “The Business of Being Born.” The film is a documentary which is heavily biased towards propagating natural/home births. (Parenthetical Note: the dramatization of the drugs they give you in the hospital is enough to turn you off drugs for the rest of your life)  The documentary was very interesting and I highly suggest it to anyone, but be warned: lots of bare breasts…and not in a sexy way.  This launched roommate and me into a lengthy discussion of what birth plans we should eventually follow.  Which then devolved into us laughing at how silly our 28,29,30, or 31 year old selves will view the memory of us sitting in our tiny apartment and talking about birthing plans when we were 22 years old.  In fact, I hope that late 20’s/early 30-something me comes back to this blog and reads this very post and cackles with laughter at how silly the whole thing is. 

I would say that I should STOP doing this silly thinking 100 steps ahead thing, but I think maybe it’s a good coping mechanism of sorts.  Even if nothing turns out the way that I predicted it to, at least I can be comforted by the false security of a “plan” in light of the limitless options of the coming days, months, and years.  Being twenty-something is really an exercise in attempting to make ill-informed plans for a future that is so shapeless that it’s terrifying.  So in the meantime, I’m going to blunder through the present and try to figure out what I want for the future.  The best part about being young is that you can change your mind, even the moment after you’ve made it…but before you can laugh at your choices, you have to MAKE some.

“I love men more than anything. I want all men to be happy and have rad women in their lives. But guys need women who challenge them and don’t let them get away with their shit. Women, conversely, need to not be crazy bitches who blow up when their guys tell them something that scares them.” -Cameron Diaz in Maxim Magazine

Talking Points:

Preface: So far I’ve done this twice.  Once for B, when she was meeting W (boyfriend)’s friends at the most magnificent event of all time, the Virginia Gold Cup. [Editor’s Note: I have never been to this event but based on various evidence provided to me by B, it involves all my favorite things: prepsters, booze, funny/big hats, and debauchery masquerading as class] The second time I did this was for K when she was getting nervous about her date for hot lawyer.  So I’m going to do it again for sake of the blog.

You will say hello, you will smile lots.  They will think you are friendly, amiable even. 

You will ask how their day went.  They will ask about yours.

You will say it was long but fine.  You are enjoying your job, and getting more responsibility, which you like.

They will ask what you do.  You will say you have an entry-level job that you might not love, but that will be a great starting point for your illustrious career in success.

You will ask what they do.  You will listen politely, you will nod, and you will smile when they make some kind of small joke about it.

You will ask where they went to college, and how they liked it.  You will ask what they were involved in.  What they liked about the place.  What they miss the most.

You will offer similar insights.  You will talk about your clubs/classes/favorite professors/funniest frat party happenings.

You will move away from talking about college because you are scared to seem too obsessed with your college career.  You will effortlessly move to the next topic, showing that you loved your collegiate persona, but you’re ready to grow up.

You will talk about what you enjoy doing.  You might talk about what you’re reading and how you came about buying/borrowing it in the first place.

He will probably talk about sports, which will inevitably be disinteresting to you; but you will feign ignorance, because you are friendly. 

You’ll laugh and drink and maybe be just a little bit tipsy off two drinks but that will be ok and it will make conversation easier.

It will be a fun date/meeting/event/happy hour and you will leave feeling a glow in your cheeks and happy that you met someone new…regardless of whether this person will be making one or many appearances in your future.

Big Kid Challenge

Have Michael Jackson's "The Way You Make Me Feel" come on your iPod as you walk down the sidewalk to work.  Try NOT to pretend you're Jodie Sawyer performing in Cooper Neilson's ballet. 

 

It's impossible.  And mildly embarrassing.

[C Ed. Note: Def bringing B some cookies when I come visit Memorial Day weekend....you know....for next time.]

“When I was 18 years old, I took a semester off from college and was an intern at Late Night With Conan O’Brien. It was the most glamorous job I ever had, and I idolized the writers there. I remember lying in bed every night telling myself that if I ever got a job as a comedy writer, I would be so happy and all my dreams would have come true. Six years later I got that job, working on The Office. I felt incredibly happy and grateful for a about a week, and then a whole new set of complaints set in. This would’ve shocked and disgusted my 18-year-old self. It’s helpful to remember the younger version of me because it reminds me to feel grateful when I want to be snotty. Also a little scary because obviously, happiness for me does not come from career success alone.”-Mindy Kaling

C's Collected Dating Wisdom, Vol 2

More advice from C:

• Boys are so unwieldy.
• It’s up to you if you want to pursue further.  I mean you can just have fun for the time being.
• It's a waste of breath to go all the way back to someone's place just to make out.
• I think you maybe need to think of it this way: if he's a tool and doesn't call/talk to you, he's not worth your time.  Live by my mantra: if a guy doesn't make the effort to contact you, he's not worth it.
• Are you sure that you like him, or are you rationalizing your actions?  Like, “I went pretty far with him physically, I must like him”?
• I think it's really easy to lose sight of personal happiness and let your happiness be dictated by the men in your life.  DO NOT LET THAT HAPPEN.
• I think that when I was obsessing over boys I lost sight of making myself happy and doing the things I needed and it became all about guys.  But that is my experience, and I am just warning you that it is a slippery slope.
• And don't you think he's anxious and uncomfortable too?
• Let him make moves.  I know you like to take control....but just let him.
• You need to drop this plan shit.  I think you need to acknowledge how beneficial not having a plan CAN be.   I'm not trying to say that it is always the best route, like obviously, it can sometimes blow up in your face.  But that's how you learn!
• Ok you're right.  He's probably not that wonderful and he's probably slightly dumb, and a boy.  And not god's gift to women or the male lead in my rom com.
• You guys are totally gonna make out.  Oh em gee.

Feeling Frustrated. and Confused. and Unsure. and Twenty-Something.

Well I'm into my last week of work (woooohooooo!). Unfortunately, during this week I have to work 11 hour days almost everyday.  Considering that (I think) things with my most recent gentleman caller have totally petered out in the most disappointing way, you'd think I'd welcome a little distraction.  Instead I am full of a mix of emotions.  On the subway this evening (did I get off at 8 pm tonight....yepppppp, fml), I saw my reflection in the window facing me and this is literally what I looked like: head cocked to the side, mouth slightly open, hair slightly messed, blank/dead eyes staring into the distance, and an "I don't give a fuck" aura.  Trust me, not even the crazy homeless people that wildly gesture and make conversation with unwilling participants would have engaged me.

Basically, in recent days, I've had to take the role of the two people who are "above me" in the workplace ladder.  Yes, that means that I am doing my job, two other people's jobs, AND training a new person for a job I'm not qualified for.  11 hours a day, every day (this week...and part of next).  Do I want to kill myself on the daily? Yes.  Am I sooooooo freaking ready to hit the road? HELLLLZZ YES.  Somehow I kind of just keep forgetting that I'm done after next Tuesday though.  And isn't that just life?  Things are sometimes so dark and abysmal that you just can't see the light at the end of the very short tunnel.  Like I was saying a few posts ago, it just kind of feels nothing will ever change and I will be alone forever (or in this case in a shitty job forever).  Clearly this is not the case, clearly I am DONE with the terrible job next week.  It just doesn't seem real.

I guess I need to just start looking on the bright side and expecting change, rather than assuming it will never come around.  I think that's my biggest fault in the real world, I just don't always understand the change going on in my life....even the change I, myself, am creating.  Being a big kid is just super weird and disorienting.  Maybe sometime soon I'll be able to correlate moves I make to be happy with impending positive consequences of those moves.  Meh, I'll probably just keep wandering around aimlessly in the city eating as much meat, and drinking as much beer as humanly possible.....if I ever get time off work.

C's Collected Dating Wisdom, Vol 1

I went through some gchats between myself and C when my boyf and I first started dating in order to give C some of her own advice about that weird, awkward, beginning period with a new boy.  This is for everyone, but especially for C.

• Men suck.  This is why women own and run everything.  This is why the advice in He's Just Not That Into You is flawed: "if he likes you, he'll make it happen."  Men are fucking lazy, especially men our age.  And they're used to girls/women just doing everything.
• I think you need to not give a fuck.
• But I think you should continually ask yourself this question: how engaged is he in who I am? And what I’m doing?  And how interested in his life am I demonstrating myself to be?
• You should take a step back and think logically and not make this the be all, end all.  Because there really are a zillion other fish in the sea
• Yeah, [going on awkward first/second/third dates] blows.  But this is the path you're going to have to travel.
• This is not rocket science.  He likes you.  He's just trying to be semi aloof.
• Just freaking be like “we should hang out this weekend.”  And if he doesn't want to, he'll blow it off.
• Yeah, I know you want a boyfriend.  But you don't want a shitty boyfriend.  And you certainly don't want one that makes you plan everything.
• I mean, there are lots of guys out there that will jump to date you, but in the end guys that are easy to date are more hassle later on.  So you have to deal with a bunch of time consuming/exhausting crap regardless.
• Men who are easy to date are just more time consuming exhausting crap on the backend of things.
• Again I go back to my old mantra: boys are stupid.

Commitment: If Barbie Can Do It So Can You

"There are plenty of other fish in the sea!"

I live in New York City.  NYC has a population of 8.4 million people (approximately), 48% of the population is male.  Therefore, there are approximately 4 million men in New York City.  I don't have the figures on how many of those men are single.  But my point is this: there are literally more men in New York City than one woman could go through in eight lifetimes.  There are plenty of fish in the sea indeed!

One might think that this is awesome! No matter what happens, you can just nix one guy and move on to the next like it ain't no thang.  While, yes this is empirically true, this is a TERRIBLE way to think! I like to think of it this way: when you have just one piece of chocolate, you savor that chocolate, you take your time eating it, you taste every ounce of it.  However, if you have a huge box of chocolates you gobble them down like it's your job then you feel horrible nauseous and/or guilty about it moments later.  Men are just like chocolate in this case.  Women (myself included) roll through town, making out with gentlemen left and right, barely giving any of them the time of day, and they end up without anyone.  This loneliness is even more frustrating because there are sooooo many of them!

I'm not saying that men don't do this exact same thing, they probably do....although, I think they are often (genuinely) too busy bro-ing out / teabagging their best friend to notice.  Mutual attraction and dedication to starting something has to come from both sides.  If you are bouncing around town looking for Mr. Right anywhere that he might be, you're not going to find him.   You need to be looking for who IS right for you, not some mythical being who probably doesn't exist.  Connections are great, hard to fake, but easy to misunderstand--but those connections aren't going to happen if you're continually searching for the next best thing.  So if your type is "hotter/smarter/more successful than the last loser," maybe you're not doing something right.  If your only qualm with someone really great is that there are (probably) better guys out there, maybe you're not ready. So I urge you (and myself) to think, not about who else is out there, but who is in front of you....and if that's a person you really want to be in front of you long term.

Today Was a Big Big Day For B and C Learn to Compromise!

"Things are more like they are now than they ever were before. " -Dwight D. Eisenhower

I like to sometimes think of my life as a children's book geared toward new adults.  Is this absurd? Absolutely.  Is it somewhat appropriate? Maybe! Being a young twenty something fresh out of college is kind of like being a child on their way to adulthood (aka the sixth grade). [Editor's Note: Both B and I, in the sixth grade, thought we were adults.  Like: "Welp! I'm in middle school now, I must be an adult!"]  Something I have been learning a lot about up until now has been compromise.  I've noticed that there is a HUGE difference between what I feel and what I know up in that old brain of mine.  This is a very hard concept for many people to grasp.  It is also a very delicate balancing act that we all must participate in (heyyyyo circus of life!).  One very large element of this daring balancing act is of course compromise.

I'll give some examples: when I was but a young 20 year old I had a friend who had a crush.  I did not know about this crush until I had already started drunkenly chatting him up outside of a fraternity on a blustery January night.  She then proceeded to capture my attention and tell me "anyone but him, I've had a crush on him for forever."  Because I'm kind of a bitch and was (am?) a lot immature, I manipulated her into agreeing that it was fine and that I shouldn't worry about it a couple hours later.  This led to a short relationship, a terrible finale, and losing a few really close friends.  Was it worth it? Absolutely not.  Would I ever do it again? Not in a thousand years!  So even though that idiotic action led to disaster, I learned a lot from it and like to spread that wisedom to others when the situation allows.  If ever placed in this situation again I would learn the compromise: which is forget the guy and do not compromise your friendships / crush your friends dreams.

Similarly, learn to compromise with society.  I am a little crazy (who isn't ammmirighhht?!), and I like to do whatever the f#@k I want regardless of social conventions and the opinions of others.  As an adult, I've had to realize that perhaps this is not the best course of action.  UNLESS, your goal is to be the creepiest person on the bus/subway/other method of public transit, then you should go absolutely throw caution to the wind!  When it comes to guys, I normally just did whatever I want regardless if it was creepy or weird.  Once out in the real world, I realized perhaps this is not the best option.  So I learned that I should not friend someone who is not searchable on facebook and uses their middle name in lieu of their last name (the only way you found them was because your friend searched for mutual friends and looked for someone with his first name and school information that matched your knowledge of his background).  That would be creepy.  But in this day and age, you know what else is creepy?  Hanging out with a gentleman for a month and be excluded from his online identity.  However, I must choose the lesser of two awkwards and refrain from the creepster friend.  Instead B suggested I casually bring up being gchat friends, that being a very direct and nonawkward topic to broach (since we've already discussed his habit of spending the day on gchat).  I will take your compromise madam!...but I'm still going to grumble about how weird it is that we're not facebook friends.

So there you have it.  As an adult you cautiously walk the path between fEeLiNgZ and reason and choose your best footing, using the best tool out there: compromise.  I think the best way to find those compromises is to acknowledge your feelings (I know, gross right? Plus feelings are hard) and to attempt to apply reasonable actions to them.  In summation, being a grown up is harrrrrd.

The Waiting Game

From the wise, wise pages of Wikipedia:
Patience is the state of endurance under difficult circumstances, which can mean persevering in the face of delay or provocation without acting on annoyance/anger in a negative way; or exhibiting forbearance when under strain, especially when faced with longer-term difficulties. Patience is the level of endurance one's character can take before negativity. It is also used to refer to the character trait of being steadfast. Antonyms include hastiness and impetuousness.

In the grown up word there is a lot of waiting.  This waiting often comes when you are in no position to want to wait: waiting on approval for you new apartment, waiting to hear back from the job you just interviewed for, waiting for men to text/call you back.  Yes, lots and lots of waiting.  I seriously hate waiting.  I am probably the LEAST patient person on the face of the earth.  Thus, when forced into a state of wait, I become a petulant, insane child.

I just got a new job (YAY!).  But! On the way to this job I had to go through three interviews. THREE! After each interview I was nervous and anxious hoping to God that they liked me, going over and over in my head the things that I said, that they said.  Finally, I got the call today that they did in fact like me and that they hoped to bring me aboard! What great news!

If only relationships were this easy (WHAT?! Getting a job in this economy?! You're trying to tell me that getting a job is easy?!....My response: Have you recently tried getting a man in this social economy of virtually ubiquitous Peter Pans??)  But the exact part I'm talking about is the one two punch of interviews.  The prosepective goes on anywhere between one and three interviews (dates, let's be real), and by the end a decision is made!  The best part? They CALL you to tell you what they've decided! How great! How modern!

Dating seems (from my limited experience) to be so muddled, confusing, and irritating that I halfway want to throw in the towel.  It feels like nothing is ever going to work out and I'll probably be alone forever (an object at rest stays at rest, etc), but I know that this isn't empirically true....a force almost always acts upon that object at rest. Right? Right.  But needless to say, here I am waiting (again) to see if that force will act against that object and things will move into motion.  However, how long before I know they're in motion? Like for sure.  Like indefinitely? Like exclusively? God only knows.  Perhaps after the eleventh interview we can just assume I got the job...or didn't.  I guess I'll just have to wait and see.

Hint of Salt, Shot of Tequila, Adulthood Chaser

Tequila. Ouch.

In New York City there are many ways to experience the city: going out to bars, sightseeing, taking a famed yellow cab, overpaying for drinks, food, anything in Times Square, etc.  I live in NYC and I am an adult (last I checked), so some of these things are not for me (see: anything touristy).

In the spirit of B's post, about how being twenty-something is a mixed bag of adulthood and irresponsible/immature childish behavior, I am going to recap my weekend.  Last weekend I had a revelation, going out to bars does not always have to mean going out on the prowl.  There IS such a thing as going out, not looking for a member of the opposite sex, and just having fun generally.  I know that this is a novel and strange idea, but just go with me.

I would like to preface my story of the weekend with these preponderances about dating:
Being twenty-something and single is confusing.  On the one hand, I am very used to the way things worked at my college: drunkenly make out with someone you've heard of before (see: small campus), hook up with them (extra long twin bed WHOOP WHOOP!), exchange numbers, continue to hook up several weekends in a row, and finally be exclusively hooking up for perhaps the rest of the term (#NOTADULT).  On the other hand, I AM an adult now (or so I'm told) and I should be following a more mature set of steps towards coupledom.  I am fairly sure that these steps are: meet at some random location that is not a bar (so far step one has COMPLETELY eluded me in my adult life), exchange pleasant banter and digits, party #1 calls party #2 on the telephone (step three, also seeming very mythological to me) and sets up drinks at a point in the near future, date #1 is had, more dates are had, there is a discussion about exclusivity, and then you're dating...like Facebook official...like indefinitely (decidedly #adult).

So I went out Saturday night with the intention of just having a good time, meeting some new [PLATONIC] friends, and getting a little wastey-face (notice how I said "A LITTLE").  This idea =  verrrry #adult. The previous weekend I had made out with a young, finance gentleman at a bar (#notadult), and he had taken my number so we could hang out sometime.  I find that young gentlemen that find their way into my life are also quite baffled by the ways of twenty-something dating.  They, too, are torn between the ways they're used to (see: boning on twin size bed) and the ways of adults (see: dating).  When a guy says (cough texts) "Let's hang out some time," that could mean either let's meet up at 2 am and go back to my place and bone on my futon (#NOTadult) or let me take you to this secret, underground, amazing speakeasy bar in the East Village and we can talk for a couple hours and decide if this is worth the time, energy, and money (#adult).  So far, I'm led to believe that gentlemen met in bars are decidedly in favor of the former plan of action.

I started the night off with plans to meet an old acquaintance at her friend's apartment, which was only a block from mine.  She just so happened to tell me to go up to 2G and NOT 2H, 2G being the complete wrong apartment full of strangers.  I knocked on the door and was ushered inside.  New York City is not famed for it's large apartments, so I think we can all assume what this apartment looked like.  That being said, I was face to face with ten completely random strangers, none of whom were my friend.  I laughed and played it off and they were friendly enough to demand that I partake of a beer with them.  It was altogether not horrible and it turned out that many of the strangers actually knew people I know (heyyooooo NYC being a small world).  So with incredible poise and grace, I made the best of a decisively awkward situation (#adult) and chugged down that Bud Light (#NotAdult).

After making it to the CORRECT apartment, I proceded to make polite conversation and be generally friendly.  We then ventured to a bar on the Lower East Side, where I took not one, but many, tequila shots.  Whoever invented tequila must have hated mankind.  By the end of the night I was wandering aimlessly through the bar, nearly blackout drunk.  At that point I'd had wine, beer, whiskey, tequila, more beer, more whiskey, more tequila...in short, nightmare.  Mixing alcohols: #NOTadult.  Typically in such a state of disarray, I would do something stupid: see drunk text messaging, making out with strangers, saying mean things to people I just meant, brutal honesty, hooking up with people I KNOW I shouldn't, etc etc etc etc. I did walk up to a guy who was standing semi near a girl (AND GROUP OF PEOPLE) and hit on him only to find out he was "kind of seeing" the girl he was standing near.  That's a little embarrassing, but not altogether horrible.  It's definitely been worse! (Sad? Should I not admit that?)  The finance gentleman texted me a bit with a desire to come meet me, but his friends weren't cooperating so I made it out of the bar without temptation of a late night hang out.

I made it home in one piece and didn't do anything that made me feel too awful the next day....except for all the tequila, and beer, and whiskey.....welllll maybe Sunday wasn't so pretty after all.  I actually wanted to die Sunday and thought I actually might, but luckily it wasn't from embarrassment, it was just alcohol poisoning.  Victory!....right?

Valentine's Day, Time for a Big Slap of Reality to the Face

B was telling me the other day that she underexaggerated her relationship with her boyfriend when telling her cousin about him a few weeks ago.  This led to him being almost insultingly surprised that "that is still going on."  I find that, when talking to family members, I often OVERexaggerate my relationships with men.  I have several reasons for doing this.  Reasons being:
1. "Sooooooooo......meet any guys out there in New York City???" -My stepmom
     -Translation: "Sooooooo....have you purchased any cats yet?....You know, to sate your unremitting  
       loneliness?"
     -Rebuttal: I AM TWENTY-TWO YEARS OLD, NOT FORTY!
2. "C, are you.....................................................................................weird?" -My mom
     -Translation: "C, are you a big, butch lesbian??"
     -Rebuttal: I love sex.....with men. THE END OF THE STORY.
3. "It's your turn girl!" -My mom
     -Translation: "When you gon' be poppin' out some grand babies?!?!?!"
     -Rebuttal: A. YOU ALREADY HAVE FIVE GRANDCHILLENS' CRAZY! B. I AM TWENTY-
      TWO YEARS OLD, NOT FORTY!

So, when talking to family members, I tend to exaggerate my relationships.  Repeat hook ups (read: F**k Buddy) with a socially retarded, med school bound hottie equals "kinnnnd of seeing this guy...but we're not that serious."  Going on one date and planning a second, which never really happens because he's the flakiest man on earth, equals "Well there's this great British guy who I could see myself dating, we'll see where things go....could get serious."  Because when it comes down to it, they're three thousand or so miles away, they'll believe what I tell them.  Honestly, I don't really think that they're looking for the straight answer, they're really looking for what they want to hear (aren't we all?)....soooooo I justify the exaggeration.

With Valentine's Day looming, it becomes a time where we all really have to come to terms with the little exaggerations we've made in our love lives.  If you're not spending the big night together (barring conscientious objectors), you're not dating, you're not serious, and it's possibly (probably) not going anywhere.  Valentine's Day, while full of garbage and forced romantic exhibitionism, is the great revealer in so many ways.  As for me, I'm pretty glad I'm not spending V Day with any of my recent exaggerations.  I'm not sure I could handle a date that's sole conversational fare is comprised of soccer...and I certainly couldn't handle a V Day dinner with a mate who can't put his phone down for one second and passes out at 11 pm.  These kinds of V Day losers sure make the time in between fun, but they're certainly no one to devote any real energy or special feelings towards.  So thank you St. Valentine, for removing any kind of illusions I would have had about these men and replacing them with illusions of love to come.  For now, I guess I'll just spend Valentine's Day, like I would any other day: watching How I Met Your Mother and being content with myself.

In the vein of illusions of the heart and mind, I would like to present the illusions of Taylor Swift's heart and mind with an in depth comparison of an element of her artistry.
Back to December: An Analysis of the Elements......

Valentine's Day

Last year, for Valentine's Day, I did a post for C and my former blog called "Conversation Hearts for College."  As I stated then, "Valentine's Day is a pretty anti-climatic day at a college where hook-ups are the norm. With this in mind, I created some conversation hearts that communicate how most co-eds feel this weekend. And pretty much every other weekend."  For V-Day 2011, I'll share the college hearts that are no longer approp and some that are still in play, as well as some additions for the world of twenty-something dating.

Sooo college:

Still somewhat in play:

The 20-something world of dating:

 

Happy Valentine's Day!

Why Dresses are the Downfall of Men

Dresses are the downfall of all men.  Want to know why?  As I recently told B: "to men dresses are like straight jackets with a big hole in a too obvious place.  It's like in adventure movies when the adventurer puts is hand in the mouth of some cave sculpture and it gets cut off."  My advice to her, some advice that I COMPLETELY forgot when it would have been applicable to my life last weekend, was this: DO NOT WEAR A SKIRT IF YOU ARE GONNA BE MACKIN' ON SOME GUY!  There is just nothing good about it.  It's an issue for the following reasons:

1. It's gets all twisted up to high heaven, and then you're like "my legs don't even go that way, how the hell..."

2. Men do not at all understand the workings of said garment.  Example: you could be wearing a very nice dress with a zip back (that is, for all intents and purposes IMPOSSIBLE to remove without unzipping) Your guy then attempts to pull lightly at the garment, in hopes that it will at least loosen...but NO! it is strong and will not budge.  Leaving him looking puzzled and a little unsure of his next move.  Thus you are forced to unzip the thing and take the whole thing off.  If you're wearing tights, you obviously have to take those off too, because how unflattering is a pair of tights and tights alone??  Nothing about a second skin of black spandex that is pulled up to your belly button says pretty to me.  Consequently you are very quickly in your underwear, which may be (and hopefully is) a lot more naked than you were originally planning to be.

3. To go along with number 2...easy below the belt access, impossible above the waist access.  This flow chart of accesibility does not mesh well with the several step system that should be hooking up.

That's all I really have, so perhaps a list was unnecessary...but what's done is done.  Moral of the story....skirts, great for looking fancy at work / maybe pretty grand for location hook ups (sex on a beach anyone??)....but not so great for beginning of the long road encounters.  Jeggings on the other hand....I'm totally in favor of those.