Archive | March, 2014

Jill’s Tips for Weekend Guests

31 Mar

News flash: I did NOT fight with either of my exes this weekend, nor did they fight with each other. While my body is angry at me today, I’d say it was a successful weekend overall!

After this marathon of a reunion weekend, I thought I would share a few of my tips for hosting large groups of people at your house. I’ve done this at least 5 times since I moved into my apartment, and I think I’ve gotten pretty good at it! So in case you have people moving in temporarily, here’s Jill’s Tips for Weekend Guests

Pre-Weekend Prep

Buy toilet paper. Lots of toilet paper – as Belle has described, I have previously ran out of toilet paper during a house party weekend. We had to use paper towels, and it was very chafing. Don’t make this mistake! I recommend something soft, it makes guests feel luxurious

Clean all towels and sheets – people will be sleeping EVERYWHERE, so the more sheets/blankets/pillows you have, the better. Its also a pain to travel with a towel, so I make sure all mine are clean for guests to use.

Prepare your liver – spend the days before the weekend eating healthy, drinking lots of water, and AVOIDING ALCOHOL. Your body will thank you.

Clean ALL your glasses – even things that aren’t usually used for drinking, such as mugs or baking ramekins. Otherwise, prepare to use a LOT of plastic cups.

During the weekend

Do Spot Cleaning – Take half an hour after each party/day drinking event to throw away empties and put things in the dishwasher. This will make things much less daunting when you are so hung over and tired Sunday night that you can barely see straight. It also makes the place look marginally nicer.

Light Candles – put a candle in the bathroom! Something strongly scented. It makes everyone more comfortable and prevents unfortunate smells from leaking into the hallway. Just remember to blow it out before you leave! I usually put a post-it on the door to remind myself of this one.

Here’s what NOT TO Do

DON’T plan out everything extensively beforehand. Your friends will often just want to hang out, nap, and relax. Ask specifically if there is anything they REALLY want to do for the weekend, but otherwise, let things happen on their own.

DON’T buy all the booze yourself. Make other people bring it as well, or you will be broke before you know it.

DON’T Stress. Its going to be a fun, memorable (hopefully) weekend for you and your friends. Enjoy being together, enjoy being young, and have fun.

Wishing you many fun weekends to come. Now go party like like its the early 2000s

XOXO,

Capitol Jill

Give The Dweeb A Chance

27 Mar

by Stacie Smack

Last week Betty shared her internal battle of dating because it makes sense on paper or not.

She failed to mention a couple of [essential] aspects of the battle: mainly that he may or may not be a dweeb.

Funnily enough, her ongoing struggle (once you account for the missing mentioned piece) is EERILY similar to my current situation. From reading her post, it might not be obvious, but from talking endlessly about it with her, I know.

I would say that D-Bag (my charming pet name for the man I’m dating) is not perfect on paper or marriage material. He’s a well-educated, employed male with left-leaning tendencies. I suppose he fits the basic criteria. However, to quote & paraphrase Betty:

1) His automatic response to getting somewhere after hours is PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION. Everyone knows that any proper DC Yuppie exclusively Ubers after 11pm.

2a) He PRIORITIZES SLEEP OVER SEX! This has happened more than once. ALL I WANT is some freaking morning sex but he like constantly freaks out that he like isn’t going to have enough sleep or whatever and keeps shutting me down! Who are you?

2b) When I made a gently sarcastic comment about the above, he jokes (unfunnily) “i need my beauty rest.” you are not beautiful.

3a) He wears really dweeby boxers. You’re an adult. Invest in underwear that is pleasant to see. Unless this is your way of encouraging me to take them off? But see 2a. No.

3b) Actually he dresses kinda dweeby overall.

4) Despite being generally kind of a “nice nerdy boy” type, he occasionally dips into the usage of kinda vulgar terms that just do NOT work for him. For example, his roommate wasn’t there and he looked into the living room and kinda casually thought OUT LOUD “oh, we missed a chance to fuck on the couch” – like EW STOP.

5) We were just lying in bed and he goes “tell me a story” (what?) and I was like ummm what about? and he was like “I dunno, about something really embarrassing that happened to you when you were a little kid.” Why would you want to hear that??? That’s the least sexy thing to talk about in bed ever.

I hope that this paints a better understanding of who these men are. These are not necessarily make-or-break issues. But they are just constant reminders that they’re just a little bit dweeby 100% of the time! So why don’t you just end it? If you’re so caught up in the dweebness and you’re annoyed with his presence, and you’d rather not have your friends meet him due to the possibility of them becoming aware of the dweebity of the man. I mean he doesn’t even own a pair of boat shoes.

There’s a catch. A slightly important catch that went severely unmentioned.

THE SEX. IS FANTASTIC.

Better and unlike anything experienced before. So you’d understand the hesitation when talking about ending things. Sometimes it’s hard to turn down multiple orgasms. Between having to go sexless while finding men to date and having a sure thing that’s also an AMAZING thing, I think the choice is clear right? Right?

There’s a second catch, that complicates things even more.

THE DWEEB LOVES YOU.

Ok, so maybe they haven’t literally used those words. But there are only like a billion signs that make this clear. They’re always willing to go to your place. They always text first. In fact, sometimes I won’t text on purpose, even if I have a free evening, only to see how long it takes him to say something. And that something will probably be dweeby (“Stayed up until 2am playing bananagrams on a weeknight 🙂 how was your day?”). But he will always text. He’ll change his plans to end up where you are because you’re not about to change your plans for him. He’ll come and meet you at a bar full of YOUR friends by himself, because he literally kisses the ground you walk on.

We spend so much time asking “where are all the nice guys in this city?” after yet another guy from Policy never calls you back. It’s kind of refreshing to date a guy who will reliably be there when you wake up on a Saturday morning.

So I’m giving the dweeb a chance. After two years of crazy hook ups, bad online dates, and being strung along by the love of my life (HA), I decided to take a break. It’s almost like a vacation from my preferred lifestyle. I’m temporarily hitting pause, and allowing DB to show me the wonders of monogamy (SOMEONE SAVE ME). Rather than staying up until 2am every other Saturday waiting for Chuck Bass to come over for two hours, I’m letting DB come over, do me, cuddle me, AND take me out to breakfast the next morning.

I haven’t really dated anyone ever for longer than a couple of months, and I’ve never really been exclusive, and I’m sick of sleeping with assholes. So, I’m letting a guy actually treat me nicely.

Because why do we have to put up with being treated like dirt?

1) Why do we silently comply with the guy that only calls us at 12:30am every third Saturday of the month who promises to get drinks and never does?

2) Why do we let the guy we dated for three months just stop texting without demanding an explanation or at least a formal “we’re done” conversation?

3) Why do we only find guys attractive if they ignore us at the bar, flirt with our friend, and manage to give back-handed compliments that still make us swoon?

4) Why is the guy wearing the sexy black David Beckham underwear always the one who never calls back?

So, here I am. And all I can say is:

GIVE THE DWEEB A CHANCE.

 

 

A Society of Disconnect

25 Mar

The following news headline popped up on my twitter feed yesterday morning:

Families informed of missing jet’s fate via text message

WHAT.

This is a joke, right? Did someone get the news wrong? Sadly, no. These poor families have been desperately searching for answers, clinging to everything they had for two weeks. They have been thrown into the media’s spotlight (but let’s be honest, that isn’t a first) and forced to deal with their desperation and grief publicly instead of in their private homes. These people have been through hell, so you would assume that the authorities would at least have the decency to inform them of their conclusion with dignity, instead of through a MASS TEXT MESSAGE.

It’s just wrong.

I believe Mackey Frayer put it quite well. “To have the final confirmation after two-plus weeks of waiting, of holding vigils, of believing that there was a shred of hope that there were going to be survivors found, to get the news by text message perhaps underscored and punctuated the blow.”

This tragedy, though on a much larger scale, reminded me of what happened to a dear friend of mine in college. On the last day of finals, she waited for her parents to pick her up for summer vacation. While waiting, she goes on facebook to find a disturbing post on her wall about how her parents will be dearly missed. It wasn’t for another hour that she learned her parents had both been killed in a car crash on their way to our school. Facebook. She found out on FACEBOOK before any police officer had informed her or her family.

Incidents like these show just how screwy and disengaged our society has become over the years. Our reliance on technology can be an incredible and positive thing! And yet, whenever it begins to change how we deal with real people, it can also be dangerous, not to mention frightening. Hundreds of studies and articles have shown that the more connected we become with our technology, the more disconnected we become to our real lives. Stripping away personal contact with others, particularly during a time that they need it most, is wrong. I’m worried that once we begin to see people as a part of a “message” or as someone on a screen, rather than as another human being, we start to lose everything. I don’t mean to sound fanatical, but is it unreasonable to think we’re on a dark and scary path?

I know it must sound like I’m getting sidetracked. I’m not trying to use the Malaysian airline disaster as a soapbox to exploit the problems I see in modern society. And let’s be honest, there has to be much more to this particular tragedy than we can realize right now. I’m just saying, this is one example, of many, that shows how people, companies, and governments are starting to take away the personal contact that each human being deserves. And I’m terrified of what will happen if that doesn’t change.

Belle.

 

Drama in the house!

23 Mar

Prepare for anxiety overload.

So this weekend, I am hosting a few college friends. And I couldn’t be more excited to see the two guys staying with me!

But news of their visit spread amongst our gang, and now we have a bit of a problem.

My ex boyfriend, who I’ll call Edward, will also be here this weekend.  And another ex of sorts, Ted, will also be here this weekend. Cue the drama.

Edward was my first kiss, my first love, my first everything. We were together a long time, and I loved him.  Things when south when our lives drifted apart (and when he told me that he didn’t see a future with me. Kthanx) I broke it off, which was rough on both of us, and it really was the right thing.  He sees that now too, I think, but it led to a lot of issues with our group of friends.

It was made worse by the fact that I started “seeing” Ted about a month later in a friends with benefits relationship (another post in  itself. never get in one of those!!). Nasty confrontations followed, and drama ensued. The boys hate each other, and I’m afraid they will hate me too.

I don’t want to fight with them. I do want us all to get along. But I don’t know if that’s possible. Too many scars, too many memories we all share. Last time Edward visited, it went fairly well, until he started driving. We always fought over his horrible driving. So this time, avoiding cars is necessary. But I’m also worried that discussions of things like sex lives and dating will come up, and I don’t want to say anything that will hurt Edward or Ted. Sure, Edward broke my heart, and Ted used to push me around, but I don’t want to hurt them back.

Also, its going to be so awkward! I know that my history with both of them will come up many times over the weekend. I don’t want to answer questions and I don’t want to talk about it, but I’m certain it will.

It’s a hard line to walk. I don’t know if I can do it.

Anxiety overload, people. Any tips on how to hang with exes? Give me advice.

Thank god my SR ladies will be on hand to keep me sane, as always.

And Booze.

give us some tips! How do you handle exes?

The Real Villain

21 Mar

Doesn’t everybody lovehate Carrie Bradshaw? I do. I like a lot of things about Carrie – her shoes, her hair (I know), her cute little run across the street. But there are also many many things I dislike about Carrie. How mean she is to Aiden, her sober chain smoking habit, and the fact that she can’t help but wonder about every damn thing.

It’s been ingrained in our heads since circa age 14 that we should strive to be one of the SATC girls; nobody wants to be Miranda, nobody wants to admit they’re not as sexually active as Samantha and pretends her behavior is appalling, and not everybody can be Charlotte, so most of us become a self-proclaimed Carrie-Charlotte hybrid. One trait of Carrie we all seemed to inherit was the whole overdramatic thinking thing.

The 21 Most Melodramatic Things Carrie Bradshaw Ever Said

Alright ladies, let’s all admit it. We can be a little crazy. Mainly when it comes to men. Some of us more than others. And those of us that are extra crazy give those of us that are less crazy a bad name…….

Oh who am I kidding we’re all pretty batshit.

23 Problems Only Kids Of Immigrant Parents Will Understand

I’ve done  some downright psychotic things to get a boy to pay attention to me/come over at 2am/be forced to refer to me as his girlfriend/ask me to formal/etc. Some of these things I am not proud of. Some of them terrify me. Some of them are hilarious. Some of them should have branded me a stalker. WHATEVER. (Kidding y’all – I wasn’t that bad. But I did once burst into tears in a bar when the boy I was hooking up with said hi to my friend and not me. He had to escort me out of the bar and to my bed…which he obviously got in. They’re shameless too.)

So I’m pretty familiar with my friends being crazy with guys and all. A very preppy/upper middle class/predominantly white university in the Midwest will [to nobody’s surprise] surround you with some pretty crazy bitches. As I’ve mentioned before, when “He’s Just Not That Into You” came out as a movie, I quoted that to my friends all day every day. Unsurprisingly, a lot of the psycho shit we did in college has followed us to our postgrad years. As we enter our mid-twenties, the stakes are higher and our former typical sorority girl habits have reared their ugly heads, morphed, and are back with a vengeance.

How many girls have I watched go on a few great dates with a guy, imagined monogramming their future towels, only to be told “next week’s not gonna work for me – I’m out of town….indefinitely.”? Far too many. How many girls have I watched get right back on their feet and say “Meh. His loss!”? Not many. How many girls have I watched eat too many carbs, drink too much vodka, and wind up in the bed of a hairy, dirty fingernailed, cargo pant wearing boy in god knows where Virginia? Way, way, WAY too many (myself included).

Listen. I’m all about getting over someone by getting under someone else (thanks Gossip Girl). But please ladies, do not lower your standards. Do not beat yourself up. I promise you, life does go on. I have had my heart broken. I have been so earth shatteringly upset over a breakup that I didn’t think it was possible to go on. When I broke up with my boyfriend from high school, I thought my life was O V E R. Looking back now – WHAT IN GOD’S NAME WAS WRONG WITH ME? Let’s not get into the winners I picked in college or even after.

And. I love you girls, but why are we always turning the guy into a villain? Read this ThoughtCatalog article I stumbled upon earlier this week. The writer asked a bunch of guys why they rejected her. And man, the truth can hurt, but the truth shall also set you free, right? As our hero learned, maybe you didn’t DO anything wrong! Maybe you weren’t responsive to his texts while trying not to appear desperate, so he thought you weren’t into it. Maybe he is a strict vegetarian and you’re a meat lover. Maybe it even comes down to the simple trait we often find in the District, you’re a card carrying member of the GOP and he worked for the Obama campaign, and he just  literally can’t with that. Sure, men can be skeezy, rude, smelly, and sometimes downright mean. But not always. Just like those crazy chicks who give us all a bad name, guys can get a bad rep too. I love a good Southern gentleman to coddle me and treat me like a lady. I appreciate the truth. If he’s not into it, sure I’d like to be told. But what if, like you, he’s not good at communicating? What if he’s embarrassed? Shy? Scared of being hurt? What if he’s NOT mean and just  says he’s busy, slowly goes off the map, and you finally realize he’s not into it after 2 dates?

Should you be heartbroken? I’m not going to tell you yes or no. But I am going to tell you to stop beating yourself, and the guy up. Things happen. Relationships work. Relationships don’t work. It’s trial and error. It’s science. Dating is science! I’m also going to tell you that if he pulls this behavior after 15 dates and sleepovers, he’s a commitmentphobe, and he may be a little bit of a jackass. But he doesn’t necessarily deserve a scarlet letter. Take a look at what happened. Maybe he is a jackass. Maybe you’re a control freak. History repeats itself, and you don’t want crazy creeping in to every potential relationship that comes down the pike.

Am I making sense? Am I rambling? Here’s my point: don’t be that girl. The girl that dwells and cries herself to sleep and goes on an anti male tirade because your monogram was perfect and he has a twin so maybe you’ll have twins, just because you didn’t hear from him again after your second date. Don’t do it to yourself, don’t do it to your friends, and don’t do it to your future.

There are exceptions to the statements I’m making. I love to fantasize about monograms. I love that he’s a twin and that maybe that increases the chances that I’ll have twins. It’s only natural to think about these things as, like I said earlier, the stakes to our dating games are getting higher. But if there’s no spark? Why force it? Besides, aren’t we all holding out for Ryan Gosling anyway?

Making a Selection, Making a Connection

20 Mar

“There’s fish in the sea for me to make a selection
I’d jump in if it wasn’t for my ear infection
Cause all I want to do is try to make a connection
It seems I’ve been running in the wrong direction oh”

After a long career-driven stretch of writing about office politics and complaining about my job, Betty’s got boy drama. Buckle up, ladies.

The above Passenger song, and particularly the lyrics at the top of this post, have been on my mind this week. Note how Passenger makes a lyrical contrast between “making a selection” and “making a connection.” Whether or not the adorable Brit meant to do this, I think that he gets at a key difference in how we approach dating and relationships. Are we making genuine, organic, valuable connections? Or are we selecting out of a predetermined pool of fish in the sea? And if it’s the latter,  what criteria are we using to make that selection?

The reason this question has been on my mind is because the newest boy in my life feels….well, he feels like a selection rather than a connection. On the surface, this guy is perfect for me. Before I really knew much about him, I told everyone “OMG, he’s my soulmate” (because clearly that’s what girls do when they barely know a guy. But actually. But that’s a post for another day). And everyone agreed once I described him. Another way of putting it is: he’s marriage material. He’d be perfect to bring home to mom and dad. He checks a lot of the boxes. And yes, I hate to say it, but a lot of those boxes involve the social expectations of the sort of guy someone from my socioeconomic/cultural background and  with my values “should” date. Slash marry. My main appraisal of our compatibility comes, frankly, from things that shouldn’t matter: like how similar our families are, what he believes, where he went to school, what kind of life he (probably) wants. Check, check, check.

The problem?

HE’S LAAAAAAAME. UUUUUGGHHHH.

I don’t want to prejudge the poor guy, and I also don’t want to get into too much gritty detail. But suffice it to say, he’s kind of an awkward dude, his jokes fall flat, and he just seems…kind of all-around boring.

You would think that would be a dealbreaker, right? End of discussion? We don’t have a “connection” (intellectually, socially and mentally that is – let’s leave aside physical connection for another day because that’s just….a whole other ball game).

But what’s bothering me is that it’s NOT the end of discussion for me. And I worry that it’s because I’m letting his “good-on-paper” status influence my thinking. In other words, by going for him, I’m “making a [cynical/calculated/etc] selection out of the pool of available guys, based on a lot of factors that seem kind of superficial. Based on….the guy my friends, who, God love ’em, aren’t in my head or my heart, think I should be with. Based on the guy my mom sees me marrying someday.

Is that just another way of saying “the guy *I* want to marry someday”? Is that what I’m doing? Allowing the ‘meat-market’-y nature of dating in your 20s to override the fact that I’m just not that into him?

There are two versions of this critique. The first is harsher: that I’m dating by resume, that I’m prioritizing surface qualities and therefore giving into social expectations rather than allowing myself to be happy. The second gives me a little more credit, and it’s a little more nuanced: perhaps I’m allowing the ‘surface qualities’ to carry positive weight even while I allow my aversion to his personality to carry negative weight. I mean, both should matter, right? And even if the surface qualities don’t matter, can’t they serve as commonalities that (and shoutout to Stacie for making this point) allow me a little breathing room to explore whether or not there is potential for a deeper compatibility? In other words, I made a selection – can’t a connection grow out of that?

But on the other hand: if I’m not into him, why do I need that breathing room at all?

And thus I go around and around and around in my head. 

This speaks to a larger question that bothers me about dating and relationships: the social expectations (which also turn into personal expectations we have for ourselves) just seem to be so at odds with the ideals of romance that we’re brought up with. Going online where you can slice and dice the data and make the perfect “selection” of guys to message just seems so at odds with the way books and movies tell us we’ll meet a guy – making a “connection” out of nowhere in the line at Starbucks, or what have you.

Similarly, if you glance at the NYT wedding section, you see all these seemingly perfectly tailored couples from similar socioeconomic backgrounds, Ivy League educations, future doctors, etc etc. And you know in the back of your head that that’s the ideal, at least as far as your grandma is concerned. But didn’t any of those perfectly airbrushed girls ever feel like there wasn’t anything to her man behind the glowing NYT bio? Or didn’t any of them ever fall in love with someone whom they absolutely, no way in hell could bring back to Mom and Dad, or even to their best friends?

This is just one aspect of the debate – much of this also overlaps with a very worthy inquiry on dating guys that you know will treat you right versus “bad” or “douchey” guys who will break your heart, but who reel you in all the same. Hopefully the other SR ladies will be able to weigh in on these and other questions in the coming weeks.

Until then, readers, I want to hear your thoughts. How much of dating is by “selection” – and is it a bad thing? Is it even possible in this day and age to make a true “connection” anymore? If not, should we mourn the loss?

Cheers girls,

BB

Just Me & My Hand

18 Mar

By Stacie Smack

Note & Warning: I am not a professional. These are only my opinions based on my personal experiences. Some people would describe the following as slightly explicit.

I was reading a cosmo the other day, obviously looking for some top-of-the-line advice on all things important, and in their “456,709 tips for hot sexxx”, they included one that is fairly ubiquitous on these advice columns: “put on a show for your man by getting off in front of him”.

Now, I like to think that I’m pretty liberal and open-minded when it comes to trying new things. However, my reaction whenever I read that tip (which is literally in almost every issue of Cosmo) is that I can’t really see myself trying that.

Masturbation is a terribly private topic for women, at least based on my experiences. The proliferation of sex toys and shops has changed this a bit. We definitely talk more now about vibrators. But beyond that, it seems like an under-discussed topic. We talk about orgasms in the context of experiencing them during sex. But self-attained orgasms? Not something I’ve talked about a lot.

Why is this our reaction?

To contrast the thought, think of how boys grow up thinking about it. They start having “wet dreams” early on in their lives, which means that parents have to talk to them about what it means and what is happening with their bodies. I’m not saying they grow up to think of it as a completely beautiful process, but it’s not framed as “gross” or taboo. Simply as private.

Can you, a woman, remember having had a conversation like that? Have you heard from friends? Have you seen it in a movie? Girls are much less likely to have a conversation about masturbation. I suppose it’s a lot less obvious when it happens, and since there’s no sheets to clean, it doesn’t really require a conversation with a parent. But I am certain that a majority of you have a vague memory of waking up and grinding against a sheet and feeling “something”.

And yet, no one explained to you why it happened, or even what happened. Men normalize masturbation at younger age than we do. They grow up with it. Women sometimes don’t even discover the process until they’ve become sexually active. Our moms taught us about getting our periods, shaving our legs, and putting on make-up. We are not told that we too can experience arousal.

Think about it, we probably learn how to get a guy off before we even think about getting ourselves off. The same can’t be said about the lesser sex. Hand jobs are like second nature to so many women.

And just to make the conversation even more disjointed, think of the term “lady-boner” which men and women like to use so much. I guess it’s a way of describing female arousal. And yet, we don’t have a bone that indicates the state of being. I guess, we say “I’m wet” but for some reason, it sounds dirty. A boner is inoffensive. Sometimes funny. Being wet does not carry the same tone.

Anyways, let’s wrap this all up. I don’t expect us to talk about how we get ourselves off openly all of a sudden. I just think we should find ways to talk to our daughters about it, as something natural that is part of puberty. Don’t you think so? If guys can joke about getting hard, cumming, boning, why can’t we find an equivalent?

No More Ms. Nice Girl

14 Mar

I’m in a bit of a funk.

Everything about everything and everybody is driving me absolutely freakin’ nuts. fjdasl;fjads;dla

me, everytime somebody speaks or looks at me.

It pretty much all started last week. I’m pretty type A – my closet is organized by season, type, color, my nail polish by color, my movies alphabetically, etc….so moving last week just threw a wrench in my life. Although I love my new apartment, it doesn’t really feel like home yet. Things are DEFINITELY still in disarray, I feel like I haven’t had a single minute to organize my closet and my THINGS.

PLUS I turned 24 last week, so cue a maaaaajor quarter life crisis. As my week went on, I was continually reminded that I’m not gallivanting my little college town anymore, something I often forget since DC can sometimes be one big frat party. I was also sick. Very very sick. The doctor banned me from “strenuous activity” which included my beloved spin class.

17 Things That Happen At Your First Spin Class

What was a girl to do the week before her birthday party without sticking to a strict diet and exercise regime?! (I’m cutting out gluten and sugar, and consuming a very very limited amount of processed foods, so maybe that’s got something to do with my funk…) I was miserable. And watched a lot of tv. And shopped. That is what I did the week before my birthday party.

My birthday was the light at the end of the tunnel of last week, and I couldn’t have been more excited. SEVEN of my fabulous college friends (clearly I’ve already lived my glory days) were set to come and I was so. damn. excited. Two of them were in town for something else, three of them live here but I don’t see them nearly often enough, one planned a vacation/visit to see me here, and the other planned a special trip for my birthday.

22 Dogs Who Are Just Really Excited To Be Dogs

So imagine my devastation when the week before, one of my very best friends canceled her trip. After a trying couple months at work, the funk I was entering, and my mysterious illness, I neeeeded some bestie time. I understood why she was unable to come, but it still sucked. I put that behind me and geared up for the big day. When five out of those seven people, including the trip canceler, straight up BAILED, and offered no good excuses, I was pissed, upset, confused, and DRAMATIC.

45 Ridiculous And Amazing GIFs Of Nene Leakes For Her Birthday

In between mild panic attacks that I was secretly the most hated person in America Karen of my friend group, another friend stirred up some REAL drama with a DIFFERENT group of college friends, solidifying my thoughts that I was indeed, Karen (ps if you’re unfamiliar with Karen, watch the video below).

Phone calls/texts/e-mails started to roll in from my friends that things had come up/the night got away from them/they were stuck elsewhere/ and other various explanations. I still felt like Karen, but much less so. (PS – if I actually thought I was the Karen, I would not be writing this. I’m well aware that I am not the Karen. But blacked out Anne thought otherwise)

My night went on and I had an amazing time despite the missing few. My friends are fabulous and so generous. At the end of the night, I chose a burrito  over a boy. WHAT?!?!?! I know. That’s another part of the funk I’m in. Similar to what Jill was feeling recently, I somehow have not been my boy-obsessed self. As I mentioned earlier, I probably lived all my glory days in college. I hooked up with allllll the boys, I went to all of the parties, I experimented with drugs, I bought anything I wanted whenever I wanted. Honestly, I’m  feeling a little been there done that with some of the things my friends are going through.

Everything You Missed In The First Episode Of Lindsay Lohan's New Reality Show

(actually I love it)

*I felt myself relating way too closely to LiLo during parts of her OWN docuseries…… (Just the part where she said there wasn’t a party she hadn’t been to, etc. and didn’t need that stuff anymore – don’t worry y’all!)

This leads to my annoyance as demonstrated by the one and only Jessica Day above. This whole week, I have been on serious edge, everything everybody does is driving me nuts (sorry friends – I love you. And it’s nothing personal, I’m just grumpy). On Tuesday I opted out of a social gathering to sit at home and skype with my mom while drinking wine and online shopping (to be fair, she did buy me a lot of things). Suuuper not betchy of me.

Today, Betty told me to stop being so responsible, and although she meant it jokingly, she was totally right. I’ve started taking everything way, way, WAY too seriously. Sure, I’ve got more drama in my life currently than I have in years, and there’s a lot at stake, but I need to calm the fuck down and learn to live in the god damn moment. WHO CARES IF MY NAIL POLISH ISN’T ORGANIZED BY COLOR? WHO CARES IF I GO HOME WITH THIS BOY AND HE NEVER TEXTS ME AGAIN?

Is this a standard quarter life/post grad dilemma? I recently had to learn a lesson about keeping friendships separate from professional relationships you may have with that same person, and that situation has been a serious rollercoaster and reminded me that I am, in fact, growing up, and there’s more at stake than maybe not getting invited to a party. My whole life I have been uber concentrated on being the most popular, the best dressed, etc., and now that I don’t feel that same pressure, and more important factors are coming into play, I’m feeling a little lost. UGH. I’m even annoyed by myself.

Anybody else experiencing this mid twenties slump? Maybe getting back into the swing of things the next couple weeks will put me on the right track, I guess only time will tell….

Thanks for listening to the rant. I promise I’ll try to be less boring again. XOXO.

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

13 Mar

I’m on a little bit of an office-life kick these days in terms of my blog posts. That’s why, when I started to write my post, immediately got distracted by the Internet, and saw this gem on Facebook, I realized there are some days when your post just gets written for you.

17 Things You Suddenly Start Doing When You Get An Office Job

#3, LOL.

Thought Catalog, you speak my soul once again.

 

 

I Call Little Spoon

12 Mar

To snuggle or not to snuggle… that has never been the question.

I am that girl who has zero desire to leave the morning after I stay the night at someone else’s place. I will take my time waking up in the morning, periodically fall back asleep, and Oh, what’s that? You’re hungry? Let’s go make brunch!!! But first… LET’S SNUGGLE!

I have my list of favorite things… and snuggling happens to be one of them (along with cheese, gifs of David Tennant, margaritas, babies, and Star Wars). ***Why does cheese always make appearances in like every single one of my posts??

I know that there are snuggle-haters… and truly, I can’t relate to your kind. i don't understand how you are happy gif

Snuggling is my automatic response if I am in bed. I will snuggle with boys, friends, stuffed animals, oversized sweatshirts, and if nothing else, my pillow. It doesn’t matter if it’s day or night, or whether there was previously or will be future “kissing, etc”. If I’m laying down, I want arms, legs, covers, whatever entangled around me. And yes… I call Little Spoon.

Snuggling gives me a sense of protection and calm, which I know sounds dumb to the anti-snugglers. But I love the metaphorical feeling of warmth whenever I go to bed (especially since my apartment lacks any form of actual heat). Nothing will make me happier than to lay in bed wrapped up with someone on a Saturday morning until roughly 11:59am.

What’s really wonderful is whenever you perfect the art of snuggling (yes this is a thing) with one individual. Because let’s be honest, there are some guys who are just not good at it! To me, that’s a deal breaker… along with snoring. If you’re fidgety, or stiff, or can’t figure out the geometry of putting your left arm under my neck and the other around my side, then I think I’ll be on my way.

But with others, it’s like you’re part of a puzzle. His upper arm is the exact right size to rest your head on, and your bodies match up like you’re giving the perfect hug. This is snuggling perfection. And it is incredibly high up on my list of attributes for any future relationship.

Achieving this ultimate snuggle position is not difficult. In fact, you can usually tell a reasonable snuggler just based on the size ratio of your body to his. Bros with massive arm muscles are going to be a little rough. Usually it’s too bulky and you end up having to move his arm from underneath you because your back/neck/whatever he is under is uncomfortably arched an extra 5 inches off the bed. However, the skinny boys make you feel like you’re cuddling with a clothing hanger. And as an advocate of being the little spoon, I prefer my men to be at least slightly larger than me. Call it a personal preference…

Other telling signs that you may be approaching a not-so-pleasant snuggling experience are the following:

– People that breathe loudly. They’re bound to snore and/or deeply inhale your hair as you attempt sleep.
– Someone who is noticeably already lacking enough deodorant. His pits will be far too close to your face to deal with that for an entire night.
– The same goes for anyone with bad breath. Again… save yourself. Faces will be close.
– Anyone wearing camo, jorts, or crocks when you meet them. Because… that just should never be an option.

For roughly 5 years I was fortunate enough to have a (now ex-)boyfriend who excelled at snuggling. He was over 6 foot, an average body size, with just enough muscle to keep things interesting. We perfected snuggling in all of its forms – spooning, on the couch, outside, in an airport, on our backs, etc etc etc. I could fall asleep in minutes with him, and in all those years, I can count the number of times I was uncomfortable on maybe one hand. Against our better judgement, we still meet up occasionally. And maybe it’s because I miss the security of being in his arms, or the warmth and comfort that I know I’ll feel when he is next to me… but I can’t seem to stop him from coming around.

That, dear readers, is the only problem I have with snuggling. Once you find the right one, it’s hard to walk away.

However, I’m not letting that deter me. I’m sure there are other expert-snugglers that will fit like a puzzle piece, not just in my covers, but in my life. And that is, after all, the ultimate goal.

Good luck,

Belle