Being Alone and a Boss Ass Bitch.

What goes up must come down. In darkness there is light. It all comes full circle. There are all these sayings and motivational sentiments for moments when things aren't going well that help you remember things will always get better. As with these sayings, there is a more specific one to breaking up that the famous collective they say, "The best way to get over someone is to get under someone new." That's a thing, right? I've been through my fair share of breakups and explosive endings of "not quite relationships" and I've bounced back from each one, granted with my baggage weighing a little more than the last, but bounced back, I have. Just like every relationship was different, so was the way I recovered from them. That is, until my mid-twenties. When I was "younger" (I sound so pretentious, I'm sorry) I thought the best way to handle moving on was to not dwell on it too long and jump right back in to the scene. Meet a new person - It gives you something to do, you are no longer sad, your phone is ringing again, it’s like you never skipped a beat, nothing wrong with that, right? Wrong. 

After many...MANY breakups and "things" that ended I took the time to pull myself together. Reason being, If you are constantly relying on someone else's affection to bring you back to life, or make you whole, you will never truly be okay. You have to be completely fine with yourself and your emotions even if it is sadness for a while, otherwise you begin shutting those feelings down and replacing them with anticipation of finding that happy again masked as butterflies for someone new. This is a slippery slope, because if we are honest with ourselves, imagine how many relationships you've entered because you were on the rebound and not quite healed. Did those work out? Were you disappointed in the end? Let down? Didn't you end up in the exact same situation you were trying to escape? 

The reality is people are so afraid to be alone with their thoughts, their feelings that we numb ourselves with more "positive" feelings and situations. We treat romance and courtship like a drug addiction. We never want to hit that low, so we're constantly searching for a way to ride that high. It's destructive and I think I've finally come to the conclusion that I am just as happy, just as fulfilled being alone as I am in a relationship. Here's why...

I have given myself the time needed to heal; I don't look for quick fixes, and definitely don't place MY emotional happiness in the hands of someone else. I've learned to be my own solution. I cannot stress the importance of being alone in times of sadness. You have to know that you are capable of getting better on your own. You should rely on yourself to get through it. If you constantly rely on a man (or woman's) affection to save you, you start to think (unconsciously) that you can't do it alone. That the only way to move on, or get happy is to have someone else want you or love you. You have to love yourself enough to heal knowing that you are worth the affection, not that it is the sole reason you were able to heal. 

There is a strength you find when you do it on your own, it makes you more confident, more sure of yourself and what YOU need. It keeps you from perpetuating the cycle of jumping into bad relationships you know deep down aren't worth it, they were merely a surrogate to help you feel better about yourself in a time of weakness. 

Essentially, you become an independent boss ass bitch who doesn't need someone else to validate their feelings of being a boss ass bitch. You just are. Then when you are ready you can look for something healthy, someone up to your standards, who deserves YOUR affection, because let’s be honest, it should be about what you need, what you want, and what you deserve. 

Go forth and conquer. 

Happy Holidaze?

Tis the Season.... of loneliness, wine, and Mr. Darcy.

Standards - Normally:

Sense of humor

Good looking

Ambitious

Good job

Reliable transportation

Bachelor’s degree or higher

Well versed in current events

Good taste in music

Compassionate

Liberal to moderately conservative

Can watch chick flicks without whining

Foodie

Sexual

Buys me brunch

Gets along with my friends

Will go to gay bars with me and besties

Has a good group of friends

Beard

Ginger please!
Can put Ikea furniture together - and will.
Patience

Standards during Holidays when you’re Single:

Man

Has working parts

Doesn't make you throw up when you think about him naked

Has once had a job

Mentally stable?

Isn't a hobo

Has made a joke, at least once

Man.

Not gay.

Welcome to the Circus

As I sit here writing this blog, hair wet just out of a hopeful sobering shower and a head that feels like it was both trampled on by a circus tap-dancing elephant and rammed into by a semi-truck, I realized that my blogging is always best when hungover. Now, I thought about that for a while (until the pain of thinking was unbearable, coupled with the a fore mentioned late 20s hangover from hell) and realized that it is probably because in my hungover state, I'm consumed with only the most embarrassing flashbacks from the night before and the regret of Fireball still fresh on my tongue, I feel all the feels. Shame, regret, continued loss of dignity, hatred of men and high heels.. etc. Last night wasn't the worst of the worst; on the Hot Mess Express scale I was only about a 4. Somehow one hangover can bring back forgotten or pushed back feels from before. One being the lack of action I've had the opportunity to partake in. When your sleep body pillow is the most action you've had in a while, things get real dark. You forget you even need human interaction, that is, until some grocery bagger accidentally grazes your hand while handing you your hummus and tampons and you feel an electric current go through your hands straight down to your lady parts that have been in hibernation. You've awoke the sleeping monster and now.. you are fantasizing about this pimply teenager who "definitely meant to touch you.. should you exchange touches? wink? bat your lashes?" Your incredibly specific standards have dissipated, the thirst is real.

So what do you do, you've awakened the beast. You thought you were above this. Content in your self-imposed spinsterdom. You stopped going out, you don't care to meet new people. You are working on yourself, getting your life together -which, is totally paying off by the way (go me!) But how do you fight the urge. You remember what it felt like, it was wonderful, like Christmas and your birthday combined. Logically, the next step is Tinder, right? Nope. Nope. Nope. If there is a way to remind myself of those incredibly specific standards, it's getting on Tinder. I can't make it through those "profiles" without screaming out, "how did you make it past infancy?!?!"

Obviously, you just need to go out. Tinder is a bust, so the old fashioned face-to-face interaction, will definitely be up your alley. I mean, I'm waaaaay more hilarious in person than monotone messages. Apparently I'm also waaaaay more blunt and expressive in person too. Backfire. Sorry, but if you go on and on about your high school football victories, 10 years after high school, I've lost all respect for you. I also don't care that you were voted class whatever. Let it go man, let it go. This coupled with my need for physical interaction poses a problem. I just can't deal, so ... the only real solution here is to order shots. See, the way guys use alcohol to make girls seem more attractive, is the way I use alcohol to make guys seem more interesting. Welp, it never works. you always end up seeing them for what they are in the sober morning, and wait for it.. .yep, there is the shame. Comes nicely with "what was your name again?"

Naturally I start looking up arranged marriages. Ugh, you have to be domestic for those to work. I can cook and clean, but I will make no binding promises to do either. This is normal, right? People (my Mother) are always pressuring me about "getting out there" quite frankly, I'm over it. If the grocery store kid is the most action I get, I'll make more trips to the grocery store, but sometimes, taking some time away from the side-show freak circus that is dating, is a good thing. Maybe I won't be the age I thought I'd be when I find "the one," but at least I'll know that I can stand alone, supporting myself, completely in love with myself when I do. I'm not sure that a lot of people would be able to say that. So to the skeptics and my Mother, I say.. "back up off me" and "I need to go grocery shopping, brb!"

Feminist: The other “F” word.

To eradicate the negative connotation, that should never have been associated; I will dumb it down and give you the exact definition.

Feminism (n): The theory of the political, economic, and social equality of the sexes

"Feminism." Merriam-Webster.com. Merriam-Webster, n.d. Web. 3 Sept. 2014. <http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/feminism>.

See, not so harmful is it? I’m sick and tired of being mocked, laughed at, and dismissed or being called a lesbian because surely, a strong independent woman who believes in equal rights of the sexes, can’t also be beautiful, straight, and smart, right? No, instead she’s described as a shrew of a woman, who probably has a penis or is a leg-hair-covered, Birkenstock-wearing, the Feminine Mystique toting lesbian. (Not that there is anything wrong with leg hair or Birkenstocks – that’s just how we are typically portrayed.)

 I’m here to tell you, feminists come in many forms. Many shapes and sizes, and even… sexes. Yes, Men can be feminists too. I’d love to see more of them. What really chaps my cheeks is that the general perception of a feminist is someone who is always complaining, I can see the eye rolls from the news articles, nay, from you reading this right now, but give me a minute. Stop and think about it, if news was presented in a way that was equal to the sexes, then there wouldn't be a feminist reaction. It would be accepted by all. Instead you have people asking women like Tina Fey, “How do you do it all?” Well, why wouldn’t you ask Jimmy Fallon that? He has his own show; he is a parent, why do we not ask this ignorant question to Men? Are we still that simple, that being a successful working parent is so hard to believe --- NO, just being a successful working Mother. Things like this, seem to go unnoticed and not bother a large percentage of people, it is the ones that it insults that need to come to the defense, in this case, Feminists. This is just one of the many examples. But what the general population sees is a rather “normal – inoffensive” question being complained about. But the very nature of the question is so deep rooted with loaded accusations that for us, it isn’t “normal” or “inoffensive” rather, it is an attack on parental duty, on being a successful businesswoman, because surely you must be lacking in either department, how dare you do it all with ease, it presumes.

Another serious issue recently brought to light with all these celebrity nude pictures being leaked is how it is being referred to as a “scandal” rather than a “crime.”  These photos were accessed illegally through their private cell phones. Therefore, as a person who chooses to take any photos of themselves on their own property should not have to apologize for it being illegally obtained and distributed. It is ridiculous. They should not be shamed, held accountable (to an extent, albeit), but definitely shouldn’t be labeled as a scandal or something that was orchestrated.

This issue of a woman having to apologize or take more precautions than a man to be safe is something I have spent countless hours thinking about. Let’s start out with the new nail polish made for women that will test your drink for the “date-rape” drug. Great, it is a great product, and I do fully support being safe. I just wish that this product, made by men, wouldn't NEED to exist in 2014. By telling women to wear nail polish that can save them from being raped, or take self-defense classes in case you get assaulted and raped, or carry a gun in case you are assaulted and raped we are telling them, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE. IT IS UP TO YOU. IF YOU GET ASSAULTED OR RAPED: THIS IS ON YOU. WHY DIDN'T YOU WEAR THE NAIL POLISH? WHY DIDN'T YOU TAKE SELF-DEFENSE CLASSES? WHY WEREN'T YOU PREPARED? It begs the question, who are we really blaming?

THIS. NEEDS. TO. STOP. Wouldn't it be more beneficial to stop the perpetrator? All of this focus on education and responsibility should be placed on the person who ACTUALLY commits the crime. Where is the class for Men on respecting women? Knowing that “NO” is a definitive choice, an answer – NOT a suggestion; that Women ARE NOT property, they are NOT objects solely for their pleasure. WOMEN are individuals with the same rights – and not victims, they are not prey. For every self-defense class for women, there should be an educational “NO means NO” class for men.

I’ll say it again, IT IS 2014. Come on, why is this still an issue?

I won’t even get into the Hillary [freaking] Rodham Clinton debate for fear of losing this audience, but that in itself is a testament to the struggle. Hillary is a badass – I will leave it there.

26 Reasons Why People are the Worst

1. People ask you how you are but really don’t care. We all know this and accept it as a general rule of social interaction.

2. Even worse, when people TELL YOU everything when you were just observing the rule just mentioned.

 

3. Small talk: where you ask the same questions and have to answer the same questions when seeing any acquaintance anywhere or worse, when meeting new people. If your good friends try to engage in small talk, get rid of them

4. People who don’t use turn signals when driving

5. Slow walkers

6. Screaming children

7. Parents of screaming children who do nothing – they are immune and tuned out, THE REST OF US are not.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

8. People who answer their phones at the movies – it’s not that important

9. Friends who betray you

10. Friends who you gave a second chance, who BETRAY YOU AGAIN?!?!

11. When people call you and pretend to be interested in how you’re doing only to vent or talk about their own lives or feelings. Just say, “hey I really need to talk” don’t bullshit me with your fake concern for my life.

12. Having to bite your tongue at work because you really need your job

13. Gym rats who judge you

14. People who project their obsessions and insecurities (not necessarily related, but often are) on other people

15. Cheating, humans who cheat ARE THE WORST

16. Not understanding Girl/Guy code and trying to justify your crimes against the sacred code

17. Women who say, “Guys are just less drama, All my friends are guys, girls don’t like me for some reason” YOU. YOU ARE THE REASON. Ovaries before brovaries, betch

18. When a man uses the term, “females” to refer to women

19. When your friend who is constantly on a diet eats a salad as you proceed to inhale the left side of the menu and wash it down with 4 beers, as they sip water

20. When YOU are on a diet and order a salad and your friend proceeds to inhale the left side of the menu and wash it down with 4 beers, as you sip water.

21. When you just want to go dancing and no one wants to go

22. When you’d rather Netflix than go to the same bar with the same people and drink the same thing and have the same conversations you’ve had 23438 other times

23. When the person you are having a conversation with decides now is the best time to text on my phone and check all my messages and bullshit internet farm/village/castle or whatever the shit.

24. When people invite you to a imaginary farm/village/castle/sock game and you’re like WTF, no thanks, too busy living my life in the real world.

25. People who would rather hinder the happiness of complete strangers because it makes THEM uncomfortable

26. People who use religion to justify the afore mentioned - as they, like everyone else, continues living in sin. THEY ARE THE ACTUAL WORST

Soooooo... yea, people are the worst and I am going into hiding.

Will Marry for Green Card

Dating in your late twenties might as well be the Hunger Games. Well, that might be a little extreme but that's how I feel. There's no one left, where are they?! It's like every time I find someone who has potential... something weird happens and I can hear the cannon, then I know it's over. One less body in the game, and I'm that much closer to dying alone.

 I have issues, I'm aware but what's most terrifying is that people with way more serious issues have already found someone to accept them, and mine, while still existent but way less terrifying can't seem to trick anyone to stick around. That, and well.. sometimes I just give up on them. Okay, most of the time. I don't like to settle. I know what I want and more problematic (in my case) is that I know what I don't want.

I am always in my head, over-analyzing everything. I mean everything, from the situation, to the text they sent or didn't send, to the word choice and how that means so soooo much more, to their choice in music, movies etc. I can't just have a conversation like a normal person. When you say something like, "I don't know, I don't really have a favorite band.. I kind of listen to everything" I hear, "I have commitment issues, I don't care enough about anything to have a strong feeling, I'll probably leave you for someone who needs saving and makes me feel like a big strong man, and I don't think music is that important (clearly a deal breaker.)"
If you say something like, "I don't really like to go out." I hear, "I am a serial killer, I have social anxiety, I'm socially awkward and/or I'm too broke to go out, I'm technically homeless.. do you have a few bucks for food?"

You see what I mean, don't even get me started on emoji choices?! Ok, so the winky face emoji, everyone knows is basically porn. But when used with kind of a passive aggressive dig, I assume it's like saying, "this is what I really think, but this little winky face emoji is going to soften the blow." So, now I hate the winky face emoji. Any heart or kissy emoji, if used to soon, makes me think one of two things:
One, you are desperate and have so many feels, and I can't. I CAN'T. Your feels make me uncomfortable and I feel like less of a woman, why am I so cold? I just can't.
Two, SEX. All you want is sex and the emoji is doing your dirty work. So fuck you and your stupid trampy emoji face, because I am NOT that kind of girl... anymore. Unless I'm going through a dry spell, in which case, I will save your number and probably sit on your face, but I definitely won't date you.

So if and when I ever do make it to a first date I've basically already seen our future, I already know 50 ways this will end. And only about 4 of those ends happily. Most of them end up in me being hurt, cheated, dead, murdered, in jail, depressed and more often than not... still single. So when someone suggests meeting up in a few days to go on a date, there's a 60% I will cancel, because, "I already know how this will end." You have given me waaaaay too much time to plot out our demise. This can only make things worse, how am I supposed to fall in love if I'm "wasting" my time with someone who clearly is not the one. What is wrong with me?! How is dating so easy for people? I have to basically be the complete opposite of myself, and be at least two drinks in to even stand a chance at a normal conversation. I have to consciously tell myself that those scenarios aren't real. That I am not doomed, and that this person is a stranger, not the character I have just won a Pulitzer Prize for in my head.

Ugh.. this would be so much easier if I just married someone for a green card and then we eventually fell in love. Any hot foreigners out there? Seriously though.

They Don't Call it a Job for Nothing

This one is dedicated to all the overly eager, selfish, lackluster partners who are just doing it wrong. Probably in life, but definitely at being a decent recipient of the most treasured gift; oral pleasure. Rather than thank your lucky stars, you make girls (or boys) everywhere want to stop putting things in their mouth. This is for you, and the fate of your future fellatio.

First off do not ask or beg for a blowie. It's unbecoming and frankly... makes you look pathetic, also we immediately decide at that moment to not give you one for being so thirsty.  I mean seriously, if it's going to happen, let your partner offer.

Now when things are getting hot and you are in full blown make out session and clothes are starting to come off; more often than not guys have the audacity to just whip it out and put it right there, all up in your face. Like we don't see it. I'm sorry, but no. Just no. You're not sly, I can see you moving, inching up trying to get your penis eye level. It isn't coy or cute, it's infuriating. No one wants to look the one eyed monster directly in the eye. No one. It looks so angry.
Guys are so transparent. Maybe just maybe if you were as eager to please your partner you wouldn't have to try so hard to get, well... Hard.

Alright so you've played your cards right.. It's happening. You are feeling all the good feels. Life is great. You are on top of the world.. And then you think; because you are a man and incapable of being content, rather you feel the need to fulfill every insatiable desire, "it could be a little better ...or deeper? I'm just gonna guide her..." NO. DO NOT TOUCH OUR HEADS. If you are lucky enough to be at this stage you have won the lottery, but again because you are selfish, you make the rookie mistake of trying to attain the soulless witchcraft you see in porn by "gently" forcing your partner to "deepthroat" you. You don't deserve a blowie. Instead you deserve the blue balls you will most definitely get once we stop. And trust me, if your partner has to wave your hand away from their head more than once, it will stop. Maybe for a long, long time. Sorry, we aren't sorry. Maybe you should stop watching so much damn porn because let me tell you, fellatio is not fun for us. Honey, they don't call it a job for nothing. So take your sorry ass, wannabe porn moves, to some little trollop who will pretend to "loooove giving head" to keep you for a few weeks. But remember, she's also seen her fair share of penises... and she's rehearsed that little speech before, and well... there's the practice.

I don't see what's so hard about receiving a blow job, you literally do not have to do anything. Nothing, there is nothing for you to do, yet you guys just keep fucking it up. Have you ever noticed that when you are giving the gift of magic to a woman, otherwise known as cunnilingus she does nothing. No words, no bullshit pretzely yoga looking moves brought to you by porn, no forcing of your head, maybe there is direction or occasional screams of pure, unadulterated ecstasy, but that's it. For the most part we just lay back and enjoy. TAKE A HINT.

Maybe next time, see what kind of oral reciprocation you can offer your partner and the more frequent you are successful at it, the more blowies you'll receive, without having to ask, beg, or covertly suggest. I know we get a lot of shit for being so complicated and never saying what we mean and blah blah bullshit chauvinist agenda.. but women are simple creatures, really. We want to be treated well. When we are, we treat you well.
If you don't, I'm currently on a mission to start a movement, that movement is sitting on your goddamn face. Half the time I do it for pleasure, the other half, is to shut you the fuck up. So now you can know what it feels like to just have it happen to you, instead of offering.

Ever heard that saying, "what's good for the goose is good for the gander." I'm just saying.

Ladies, am I right? Gents, you're welcome.

Knock Knock.

As most of you know, i've recently returned home, tail between legs and all. I've been living back home for about 3 months now and it is just as bad as you think it might be. I will say though, that this homecoming has brought a great job with upward movement and earning potential as well as, wait for it... RELOCATION. Praise! Also, it has brought some good family time and reconnecting with some of my oldest and dearest friends, as well as those randoms from high school you ignore on social media.. but alas, now you unable escape them. Not a fan. Anyway, the hardest part of it all is the lack of privacy and independence. I don't know why or when it happens exactly, but I went from this self sufficient, make-shit-happen, badass to, "Mommmm, I'm hungry can you make me an omelette. Pleasssseee!" I mean one second I'm telling my parents how I have a handful of recipes in my wheel house and then i'm 12 years old again with no knowledge of how to turn on a stove. That was mostly the first 6 weeks. Thankfully I've snapped out of it. I'm not gonna bullshit you, it was mostly because I am 26 and I have the metabolism of a 26 year old drunkard who eats burgers at 2am. I am not 12, and my decrepid metabolism reminds me every day. Regardless, I am back on my clean eating kick and cooking for myself. I've been an almost strict paleo follower for about 3 weeks now. It is a real bitch, but it is finally getting easier. It doesn't help that my house is crawling with sweets. Donuts, cookies, ice cream, candy.. tortillas. I mean, it's everywhere!  You know, it's getting worse, and I don't doubt that my devilish mother, who I often refer to as Satan, is doing it on purpose. She sees me struggling with Paleo, so what does she do, buys THREE kinds of donuts a week now. THREE.

Then there is the whole lack of privacy. That is the worst. I had a roommate before, sure. But we were respectful of eachother's pricavy and we didn't share a wall. ....you see where I'm going with this? Here is the real issue and the cause of all my problems. It has been so long, since I have felt the weight of a man on top of me. Too long. Why don't I just go and fix that situation you ask? Well for one, I've moved on from that stage in my life, believe it or not. Seriously, though. I don't want a hookup, and if I did, it would be with someone I trust and one I have a precedent with, those are all back in Austin.. so, so far away. "Well, fine - meet someone then" you say? No. The valley is infested with tools. Mexican macho, "woman-make-me-a-sandwich" douchebags of epic proportions. I want no part in that. Even if I could get past it, I just haven't seen anyone remotely my type that would excite my lower half. Winter, alone, with no love was brutal. I'm talking John Snow north of The Wall, brutal.  (<--GOT reference: maybe that's why I'm not getting laid?)

So what is a girl to do? Well, like I said, Ive returned to my former self: self-sufficient, make-shit-happen, badass. But there is nothing more depressing then having to lock your door at 26, for fear of your parents walking in on you. I leave you with that. My life, for every positive step I take forward, I take 3 miserably depressing embarrassing steps back.

When life gives you lemons...

When life gives you lemons.. book a flight to NYC by yourself and EAT ALL OF THE PIZZA!

So, recently I've been going through some struggles: financially, professionally, romantically (always) and personally, I've identified and rectified my own struggle with being to comfortable and complacent. Listen, I know how easy it is to make excuses for not shaking it up a little, but when it became less fun for me I knew I had to do something about it. I made new friends, reconnected with old friends, tried harder at shallow friendships and completely changed my routine. I picked up some hobbies, like running and yoga, got out of town a lot, quit looking for men; because let's be honest, when you're looking you find scum. Finally, the big push was realizing that it is OK to go home. I never though I would be moving back home, but I've decided, that right now, it might be for the best. I want to go home, gather myself, make and save some money, maybe make a dent in my student loans, travel some more, consider grad school, grow up a little, then when I'm ready, move to Denver/NYC/Cali/ATX who knows (leaning towards Colorado). Either way, it is not permanent, I want to just go with the flow and follow whatever path I make for myself or the universe interrupts me with, because the universe is one nosy bitch.

On this cusp of my semi-adult decision before the calm, in the midst of a full mental breakdown, I knew that I just needed something to look forward to, which is where this solo trip to NYC started. Luckily, I have great friends and family out there so I will have a place to stay and people to roam and eat with, who else is going to instagram for me? This trip could not come at a better time, in just 2 days I will be in Manhattan, eating, drinking, getting some culture, hipstering it up a little and mostly, just being plain fabulous. I have to say, this new found inner peace and complete Carpe Diem attitude of mine, is pretty amazing and it's a shame it only happened under extreme stress and loss of emotional stability but hey, you know what, I'm just going to ride this wave... because YOLO bitch.

To be continued post NYC....

(it was almost inspiring, ruined it with YOLO, right?)

How To Have a Good Night.

1. Wear something cute and comfortable, if you have any doubts on those heels honey, switch em out. Walking barefoot to your car is not a good look. 
2. Going out with the intention to "meet someone" will ensure you have a miserable time, and you'll probably meet the king of douches, just to satisfy your goal. Nothing good happens and your standards disappear. 
3. If there is a drunk crier in your group, leave the bitch at home.
4. Lipstick. Trust me.
5. Gum. Always. 
6. Sugary drinks, don't. 
7. Dance whenever possible. No dance floor? No problem, make your own. Seriously though, standing around isn't fun. 
8. If you have a tolerance, stay somewhere between 3-5 drinks. Don't be a slob-ka-bob, but don't be a wet blanket either. (personally, this is my problem, I never know which drink will be the one to send me over the edge. Not a good look for me.)
9. Deal with your drama BEFORE going out - whatever it may be, and don't talk about it anymore. NO one, not even your bestie will want to try and understand your crisis over the DJ while you're screaming to her.
10. Sometimes you have compartmentalized friends - don't try and make your study friends your party friends - don't mix groups. 
11. Friends don't let friends leave 6th st without Pizza.  (ok, some of you are watching your weight or whatever.. but still. come on, just one slice.)
12. Unless it's your birthday or Bachelorette - don't dance on the bar. Just don't.
13. If you feel like your weekends are getting too monotonous, try something new, go to a different part of town, different bars, or ... scavenger hunt! Make it fun.
14. Go home at a decent time. Nothing good can happen after 2am. (personal choice/experience)
15. HAVE FUN! It's a choice, always. Choose to be in the moment and choose to make the best out of everything. 

Give less of a shit.

Well, it's been a minute, hasn't it? I've been busy, life happens, I was in a slump, etc etc. bullshit excuse goes here. Sorry about it.

Through this time of blogging silence, I have learned a few things. One, it is for certain, I will die alone. Two, I am too comfortable. I need to shake it up and be uncomfortable. I go to the same places with the same people and do the same things. Heck, I even drink and eat the same things. Ruby Red and water, Vodka-water with lemon, Mexican Martinis (if you don't know what this is, you're not from Austin and you should Google it), and Tex Mex food. I need to break out of this funk. Move out of this city possibly, make noise, leave a mark, stand for something, volunteer, dance alone in public, give less of a shit.. you know?  Complacency is no joke, its the silent killer. Killer of spirit, soul, and dreams. I've realized, that more than men, I, am my worst enemy. I allow myself to continuously get hurt, and in the words of Hannah Horvath, "get my heart stomped on like monkey meat." I need to put an end to it. I cannot keep doing this to myself. That being said, I am on a mission to make myself uncomfortable, but not in like a rape-y sketch situation, just in the sense that I am going to push my boundaries. I will (try to) no longer shy away from things because it might be awkward or because I'm nervous, or because I don't know what I will look like, or how people will look at me. Screw 'em! Everyone puts so much emphasis on first impressions, me more than anyone, and to a fault. I am so in my own head about how I'm acting that it becomes almost an act, a bad one, but an act nonetheless. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm still myself but I'm so aware and nervous that I get lost in my head.

From now on I'm going to be present, in the moment, oblivious to other's perceptions and unapologetic about it. At least, ...I'm gonna try! These are the things I think will help me:

1. Mix it up, try a different bar, maybe spend more time on the East side or Rainey St. 
2. Exotic new restaurants - or new to me at least
3. Dance in public, by myself. On the street or something maybe in an elevator ... I'm gonna go crazy. --I had this thought of recording it, or having a friend record me.. and sort of document my journey to give less of a shit. Nothing helps you overcome giving a shit like pure humiliation. 
4. Date more. Date the right kind of guys  - as in the opposite of the ones that I'm immediately attracted to.  
5. Or not date at all. And not dwell on it - give less of a shit. 
6. Surround myself with people who are genuine
7. Quit worrying so much about how I look and just accept my body, face, hair etc. 
8. Limit my spending and save money to travel. Anywhere, Somewhere.
9. Read more. 
10. Invest time in writing. 
11. Quit talking about and go after it. all the things. 
12. Get back in to yoga and running
13. Volunteer 

Little things.

I am now a 26 semi functioning adult woman. As such, I've come to acquire some knowledge that would have been extremely helpful and would have made life a hell of a lot easier if women would have fucking told me when I was pre-pubescent. Topics we are all familiar with, but the important un-discussed parts such as:

Men, brace yourself, I'm beginning with... PERIODS. Why doesn't anyone tell you how bad the emotional and physical side effects are going to be. Sure they warn you about cramps and back pain, bloating and the occasional headache. Here's what they don't tell you: one week before your period you turn in to a fucking chihuahua and want to dry hump the living shit out of every man (or woman, if that's what you're in to) who makes more than 3 seconds of eye contact with you. Then you get super emotional and can't decide between chocolate and spicy food or sour stuff. Every commercial makes you cry and the outside world makes you furious. Combine your emotional warfare with debilitating cramps, back pain and then oh hey why not throw in some extreme bloating to increase your self-loathing and bring you back to a state of being an emotional wreck every time you see yourself naked in the mirror, that's fun! Whew and then repeat every month UNTIL YOU DRY UP and go through menopause. Oh the joys of being a woman.

Then there's breakups, oh lawd. Mothers, please fully prepare your daughters for their first world shattering breakup. Tell them it's ok to just, sit and cry. Then tell them that after 2-3 days they need to focus on something else. Tell them that eating normally is imperative. Then tell them, that building up walls to make sure they never feel that way again will never work, it will only make things worse. Finally, tell them they will probably feel that way at least 3 more times, but it's ok because it will eventually work out. (Right? Here's hoping!)

Dating: listen up ladies, those gut feelings you get, listen to them. You are recognizing those red flags that if ignored, will come back and bite you in the ass.

Friendship: For the love of god, treat your friends like the way you want to be treated. Know when to repair and when to end a friendship. Go above and beyond for them, but if they don't do the same recognize that they may not be as good of a friend as you thought they were. Then decide if you can keep them as an acquaintance or just let it fizzle out.

Exercise: Do it for you. NO one else. Especially not a man. If a guy ever tells you that you'd be even more beautiful if you lost some weight, reply with this, "Yea, you might be right, but you'd be a hell of a lot more satisfying if your dick grew another inch." Then delete that asshole from your life. Bye, Felicia. 

Shopping: just because it's on sale, is not good enough. Buy things you KNOW you will wear. Shoes are kryptonite, those.. you can buy on sale. (I have a problem.) Versatile pieces will transform your wardrobe, layering will make your closet work in all seasons. The only designer pieces you can justify are: purses, watches and jeans. Everything else probably won't last and won't make a difference. Cute is cute bitch, stop being such a label whore.


These are just some things I wish I knew from the get-go. Do you agree? What else would you add?

Mr. "Technically" We're Not Together

Color me annoyed. I am aware of the many.. many.. maaaaany forms of douche but in all my years I've never been so duped. That is if I was talking about me, hypothetically.. I mean, it could be anyone. Suck on that internet.

The "She's not technically my girlfriend" douche, aka the "committmentphobe" douche, aka the "keep her on the back-burner" douche. Ah yes.. I know the latter two but the first, I have yet to meet, well.. until recently.

Let's just say I've had a friend for a while, a friend who shares a lot of the same interests as I do. One such interest is music and this amazing little music festival/vacation I attend annually, errr we attend annually. Anyway, as in the past four years.. this trip comes around, like clockwork there is an initial message, "Hey you going this year?" followed by the obvious, "yea, duh.. where are you staying?" ...which escalates to "let's meet up at  [condo name]."

This year however, is different, I Facebook stalk just as much as the next girl.. or as I like to think of it.. doing my due diligence. Well.. seems our little friend has a "sorta girlfriend" you know.. Facebook default photo of the two.. trips and lots of check-ins/status updates with just them - mostly on her part. So I was pretty weary of how this trip would go down this year, would she be there too? They are not "Facebook Official" so maybe its not serious? Does that make me horrible? Don't care. --err sorta. I really care actually.. but let's just say that hypothetically, there has been past transgressions with the afore mentioned and let's just say that it was AMAZING. EARTH SHATTERING DELICIOUSNESS. See my problem, uuuh hypothetically that is.

Fast forward to the trip. Day one - "Hey, I'm at [insert concert] you here?" He responds, "Yea, where are you?!" --fast forward once more to me hanging out with him and his entire family.. oh yea. I've met his family (father, brother, sister, sister-in-law) the whole shaaabang. Why aren't we dating? Well... good question, he lives in a different state :( .. i know.  Well, my guilty conscience starts  panging so i bluntly ask.. as his hand strokes my lower back, "Hey, don't you have a girlfriend?"
"I don't have a girlfriend, I am seeing someone but.. she's just, not the one. She's really nice and all, but I'm just dating her because she likes me so much, she's nice and I really have no reason not to, yet. Well not until I move to Texas" as he slyly winks at me.  "So you're just killing time with her?" I ask.. offended and slightly excited?  "I guess, but that sounds terrible" Realizing he's losing any chance with me he flips the switch, "You know, she knows about you. My brother told her once, then she hacked into my account and my phone, she doesn't want me seeing you while I'm here." "Well you fucked that one up already didn't you, I mean, it's day one." I say. "I know, I couldn't not see you" he says.  Just like that.. I'm a goner.

Well.. as luck or fate or hormones would would have it, we end up together.. in the biblical sense, and yet again, AMAZING.

We have plans for the whole trip.. then day two. We see each other briefly.

Day three, I can't find him on Facebook. That asshole deleted me?! Day three - part two, I run into him, livid.. I didn't bother to text him back that day. I confront him in my whiskey induced haze, "did you fucking delete me?"  "No babe, I wouldn't do that, I deactivated my account.. it was something I had thought about doing anyway.. you know, for work."
"While on vacation? Come on bro, I'm not stupid.. good luck with your girl, hope she moves up from the back burner, douche."

Needless to say, that was the end of that, I continued to get wasted and now I write about it.  ---err hypothetically speaking, of course.

First Date Behavior.

My name is Sam, and I've failed you. I'm sorry.

This is a dating blog and I have yet to describe current dating scenarios, that is.. until now. As you may have read, I've attempted to get out there and date more, if not for the torture my Mother gives me by telling me I will die alone, then for the sheer entertainment if gives my friends, and you, of course. I have been on a whirlwind of dates lately. Some good,some decent, some great, actually. The most memorable one evolved into something I didn't expect: being myself. 

I know, that sounds terrible, who else are you supposed to be, right? But what I mean is, on a first date aren't you always trying to be the better version of yourself - which in my case involves an inner monologue like this: "don't talk and chew, do not cuss, cross your legs ...no cross your ankles, whores cross legs - ladies cross ankles.. isn't that what they said in the Princess Diaries, ..princess.. oh that's nice, what would Kate Middleton do? Ohhh to be married, ..can I marry this guy? I wonder what he looks like naked.. no.. stop that Sam, you are a lady.. you will not hook up with him, shit. fuck. can't stop thinking about penis size.. little or big, quit looking at his crotch, you're being obvious. Did you just talk while chewing? Do NOT CUSS. FUCK. don't talk about your family, DO NOT TALK ABOUT YOUR DADDY ISSUES, cross your legs dammit  NO ankles. shit. fuck. DID I JUST CUSS.. again? Fuck. this date is over. Does he hate me? Wait, is that a smile.. oh he loves me."

Do you see why being myself on that date was shocking. I'm a mess, a fucking mess. I've got more going on in my mind than scrambled FM station in BFE. Here's whats even more baffling, he liked me. The whole version of me. I cursed, a lot. Talked about ex's (by accident), my baggage,  my obvious daddy issues -briefly, cursed some more, went over my hatred for "Bros", mentioned being a spinster at weddings lately..I even discussed the amount of creeper dick pics I get. Yes, dick pics. "Do you really get that many?' He asked. "Sadly, yes..but here's my issue" I continued, "Let me preface this comment with; if you send me a dick pic, I reserve the right to show all of my friends... now, why are they never hard? I mean seriously..if you are going to send a dick pic, why wouldn't you at least make sure you were hard? Am I supposed to say..yep, that soft bag of flesh is exactly what I'm missing out on, I'm definitely going to sleep with you, now." I finished. At this point my inner monologue was out of control- screaming at myself for screwing it up... but yet, he leans in and kisses me. I mean, by any other circumstance, I should have been in my sweatpants sans bra on the couch eating a tub of Ben and Jerry's crying my life away because I'm going to die alone while tough-loving myself by re-watching "He's just not that into you" for the billionth time. Instead, he kissed me, told me he was having a great time and was being himself which he didn't expect.  MIND BLOWN. I immediately liked this guy. I was funny, charming, crude, sarcastic.. you know, myself, something only my closest and longest friends get to see.. and this kid witnessed it on day one.. and still liked me? He liked it so much he called the next day. He even joked about it on the following day by saying, "I'm about to send you a soft dick pic, I hear you're into that" ..I mean, could this guy be more perfect? Okay, let's not get ahead of ourselves, but still.. he definitely made an impression.

Date two should be interesting. Maybe I'll update you. Maybe I won't.. maybe I'll end up on my couch, in sweat pants eating a tub of Cherry Garcia tough-loving myself for the billionth time, over-analyzing every lesson on "He's just not that into you" which is probably worn out by now..but here's to positive thoughts, right!?

How do you act on a first date?

If you're a bro... I'm a bro

So if you're a reader of this humble little blog you've learned that I prefer dirty musician types of men. It's odd, I'm aware. The clean cut, pastel polo, over grown comb-over does nothing for me. With that said...sometimes we make mistakes.

With this past weeks transgressions I have realized two things are for certain. One, I do not like "bros." Two, I am a "bro." Fuck.

I took a liking to a bro but as a true bro.. once he realized I was returning his flirtiness and had some form of an interest..he pulled back. He started flirting with other girls and would come back to me with some version of "she won't leave me alone" bullshit story. Now.. here is where I realized I am a bro, rather than show my disdain for his behavior (which I still might have, okay I did) I took it a step further. I kept up my flirt game and gave him hope of something more. He and I (along with a group of friends) were all staying together for the weekend so he thought he might get lucky..he thought wrong.

I did a lot of teasing. The night ended very painful and blue for him. I slept like a baby.

That is how you teach a bro a lesson.

Sam-1, Bros -0

For the modern woman -- is a chivette goofy girl.

I gotta get me a goofy girl (55&nbsp;Photos) - Beautiful-goofy-girls-10

Never Have I Ever

....been the last [wo]man standing at this game.

So unless you have been living under a rock, being anti-social or socially awkward you have played "never have I ever" and if you went to a party school.. you have been drunk playing this game. With that said, I went to the University of Texas. I know a thing or two about drinking games.

The one thing I didn't learn early on, is that it is very crucial NOT to play this game with a crush or someone you would like to date. Well, that is.. if you're me. Right off the bat, the closest friends will be your worst enemies, they know everything.. and since the point of this game is to get others drunk it becomes a "hey I'm just going to throw you under the bus and tell everyone your dirty little secrets and if you don't drink, I will tell everyone the whole story, bestie." Awesome. I will fully admit to throwing a few friends under the bus too, but hey that's the nature of the beast.

Anyway, here is why not to play with a crush... they will judge you. They will look at you differently (if you are any fun at all.) No one wants to date the girl who drinks to "never have I ever had sex in a public place" hypothetically, of course. They may want to do other things with you, but dating isn't one of them. With the same token, here is a list of my go-to questions when playing, so I can figure out what kind of person I'm considering... mind you, I want a little mischief and adventure. If you are lets say, more "conservative" Ahem boring and judgy.. you can use these to weed out prospects, I guess.
*I bet you are playing with Natty light..judgy. 

Never Have I Ever:

1. had sex in a public place
2. had sex on a first date
3. had a threesome
4. cheated on someone
5. had sex with more than one person in one day
6. had sex with two or more people in one week
7. had relations with someone at this table
8. raped someone *dealbreaker, clearly
9. murdered someone *dealbreaker, clearly
10. beat someone up
11. had an STD * you'll want to know this.
12. walked in on my parents
13. masturbated to porn
14. had to sneak off like a thief in the night before the other person woke up
15. slept with a friends boyfriend/girlfriend
16. made a sex tape
17. been arrested
18. stole anything
19. given/received road-head 
20. traded sex for material things

Yes, I know these are mostly sexual..but hey that's the fun in this game. You're welcome!

Now get to playing  you majestic sexual creatures :)

Winging it

This whole "wingman" situation has typically been a bro thing. Here's a little secret, women are amazing wingmen too. We're considerate, funny, supportive (beyond belief), natural talkers and many other amazing things. We're majestic. Period. There has been a few situations where I have served as a wingwoman to some guys, but mostly, here's a dirty little secret.. fellow majestic ladies also have wingwomen. Yep, that's right..sometimes girls go hunting, you will often find them dressed scantily clad, wearing very high heels and in a gaggle of other girls. That's right, a gaggle.

So a few days ago, a friend hit it off with a seemingly nice guy. He was with a friend, naturally my friend tried to pass the friend off on me. Right off the bat, not my type, but I did as any good wingwoman would do, took one for the team. I entertained conversations, hung out with them all night and let him buy me a few drinks (duh). After a bit, the kid grew on me, and it didn't seem so much of a duty, rather, I chose to stick around. Then, .. a friend of mine met up with us. This friend, a man friend with whom I have sexual tension with, put my wingwoman-ness to the test. Here I was... caught in the middle of a man ping-pong game. Not that I'm complaining... I would love to be in this situation more often, but I was torn ..I didn't know how to maneuver this situation.

Option one, be a good wingwoman and let my friend twiddle his thumbs.

Option two, screw being a wingwoman and hang out with my friend. After all, I had completed my duties long enough.

Option three, Ninja my way out of it while not disrupting any of the delicate relationships. 

After some other friends weighed in on what I should do, all responses came down to having to make a choice. I went with option three. If I were a guy, would you ask me to choose? Probably not. So I decided, that I wanted both. I wanted my cake and I'd be damned if I didn't eat it too! I devised a plan, made sure not to be too comfy or flirty with either, I didn't want to lose one...or worse, both. I played it cool toned it down and suggested we move bars, I saw that as an escape, left with one and had my friend be a wingman for me and make up a story about me getting split up/leaving early, whatever. Genius.

How'd it end up? Well, let's just say you can call me a ninja. A majestic freakin ninja. 

The Smells of Desperation

So last night I got wrangled into accompanying a friend to a dating event. Not usually my kind of thing, but seeing as how I'm single as fuck, I thought, "why the hell not?" It didn't hurt that it was at a bar, because if I'm expected to be interesting and approachable, I sure as shit need a cocktail.. or 3.

I wasn't really nervous leading up to it, I convinced myself to go under the notion that this was strictly for blog research. I mean the whole purpose of this blog is to entertain you with my dating life.. up until recently.. I've been, well.. not dating. With that said, I was starting to think of myself as a journalist, they constantly put the story first.. (I realize I'm delusional to call myself a journalist) believe it or not, this helped me get there. The thing about me is, as outgoing and loud as I am, I'm actually pretty reserved around new people and forced situations, I clam up and turn into this awkward fool who can barely form sentences, let alone witty and engaging banter, it's not cute. Usually a shot of tequila helps --which I convinced forced my friend to take with me. I was golden after that!

Let me just begin with, you know those dating mixers you see in the commercials, TV shows & movies where everyone is in their mid 20s to mid 30s, fit and attractive, ..well it's nothing like that. You can actually smell the desperation in the room. It didn't take long for me to be approached, and I don't mean that in conceited way.  I mean my friend and I were the only girls who showed up late, so we were fresh meat. We were being circled and clocked left and right. I felt like we were on a national geographic hunting show...being hunted. Anyway, so I'm approached by this very tall man who has clearly never heard of the term, 'personal space' I mean, he's all up in my bubble. He begins to hover over my shoulder and read the cocktail menu I had in my hand with this line, "I like your necklace, does it have a story, what's the story?" Strong, right off the bat. I can appreciate a different line, but I'd appreciate no line at all even more. I participate, he seems nice. We part ways after a while ...but not for good. No, he finds me like 5 times that night, getting a little too comfortable with me each time. I thought personal space was a problem.. I was wrong, he was a toucher. My back, my hip, my waist, --not ok. (If you're a guy reading this, please learn something. If we don't know you.. please for the love of god, keep your hands to yourself. Observe the 2nd grade classroom rules.) This guy then proceeds to feel free to sit and chat, which is fine. Except when you lead with this question, "Hey, are you a dirty girl?" Boom. My jaw dropped, my friend without missing a beat bursts into a fit of laughter..which couldn't be controlled. Somehow, the only way to get him to leave was to give him my phone number. Immediately regret. I have now received 5+ messages.

For fear of reeking of desperation, we sneakily leave and head to a normal bar. All the nerves and awkwardness disappears. There is something to be said about going into that pressured kind of situation. Where you are EXPECTED to interact with the sole purpose of finding someone to date. Remove that pressure at a normal bar where typically we do find people, naturally/organically and we are ourselves. Shining with wit, banter and easy conversations. There is something in that logic, some may say its my sub-conscious telling me, maybe I don't want to find anyone? I think, I'm just no good under pressure. Never have been.
So we have a good time, meet some more people, accidentally divulge too much information to a friend I ran into who was is romantically interested in me, about the last time I was at this bar, with the Dirty Musician (That story is doozy.) Well, come to find, not only does he know the Dirty Musician , they are friends. Fuck. It went downhill from there. We parted ways shortly after.

Although maybe this situation wasn't the best, I realize I need to get back out there.. I also realized I'm going to have to do it organically.. is this what dating has come to? Creepy desperate smelling men circling you like a buck on closing day of the hunting season? How you do YOU date? What works for you? Please let me know what you think!

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