Reoccurring Robert Frost Moment

I’m sitting at my computer right now feeling gross. Probably because I am whitening my teeth with a box of Crest Whitening Strips that I found lying around on my dresser. (Do I get anything for the product placement? No? Great.)

Lately I feel like I never have a rest from my thoughts. And not just the average oh I’m daydreaming all day type of thoughts. Please. Those would be a welcomed relief right now. My brain honestly feels like it hasn’t taken a break in months. Every time I catch my reflection, my brows are always knitted together and I look confused and irritated. It’s not a good look.

Even now, as I catch a glance of myself in my floor length mirrors, my brows are all scrunched together. I look like I can't solve a Wheel of Fortune prize puzzle. Or I’m trying to figure out how much change to give someone who gave me $21 for a bill of $11.86.

So many thoughts….

Ever wish you could just take a vacation from yourself. Just a day to stop thinking and worrying and wondering about Every. Single. Little. Details. Of. My. Life. It would be so nice to have a mini-mind vacation. I almost typed vaycay, then I realized only middle aged, slightly alcoholic women use that term to describe and justify why they need to go to Cancun for the week.

I can’t describe what my thoughts entail. Not because they're too personal. Please. I’m pretty sure everyone knows my ass smells primarily like stale popcorn. I digress. My thoughts bounce from one thing to another and mix and knot and get stuck together like peanut butter on the roof of your mouth.

I’m pretty sure I’m having a Robert Frost Crisis.

“I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.”

I just wish I knew what road was less traveled. Stupid thoughts. I need a fish filet. 

Wanted: Best Friend

When I was younger, I always wanted a boyfriend because I wanted someone to slow dance with. Someone who would grab my hand when we walk and intertwine his fingers with mine. Someone who would light up with a big smile every time he sees me.

Nothing has changed. This remains to be the only thing I really really really want.

I love my job and everything that goes with it. I love improv and comedy and writing sketches. I love reading and falling into a world that exists because words took me there. But nothing makes life worth living more than falling in love with someone who is falling in love with you.

I want to find the kind of relationship that is worth fighting for. Worth working at every day.  Worth every moment it took to find that person. To me, a relationship with the right person won’t feel like work. It'll feel effortless.  

I’ve been thinking so much lately about who I want to end up with. I used to think that if he didn’t have dark curly hair or green eyes, then he wouldn’t do. But now, I know that I’m ready to be with someone because of who he is. Which is way more important that his height or beautiful smile.

A few things that are a must for the (depending on how you look at it) impossibly lucky guy who ends up with me

·         Support my comedy dreams-which means coming to my shows and listens to me try out new material
·         Has a great relationship with his parents and siblings

·         Is goofy and silly with me all the time

·         Isn’t afraid to say what he’s thinking and feeling

·         Keeps his promises

·         Knows what he has when he has it

The list could go on but the main thing I want is a best friend. Someone who wakes up everyday to my face and smiles. Someone who could spend all day with me browsing a bookstore and IKEA and Target and still be excited to snuggle and watch a movie together later.

I want someone who wants to always impress me and make me fall in love with them. Someone who will cook dinner with me. Laughing and kissing me while music plays in the background. And we slow dance as the chicken burns a little. I want someone who will fall asleep with me on the couch, wake up at 3 am and declare that we are going to get pancakes.

That’s the guy I’m looking for.

Ready when you are.

    

My first love

These are my confessions. Not like Usher and his confes-forget it.

One of the biggest things about me is my devotion to Jim Carrey. He is my first love and the man who sealed my fate in becoming a comedian.

Now I know some people think he is crazy and too over the top and whatever. Think your wrong opinions all you want. I love him. With all of my beating heart.

Jim Carrey’s childhood was not the happiest. His family was very poor and they all had jobs working in a factory. His mom was sick a lot and he would always try and make her feel better by telling jokes or performing, just to get her to laugh.

When I see Jim Carrey, there’s an odd sensation that comes over me. Seeing him makes me feel like I’m coming home after being gone for a long time. Watching him makes me feel like I’ve found something I never realized was missing. Laughing at his antics makes me forget why I ever stop smiling. Part of it too is that it feels like I’m connecting with myself when I was little. That sounds weird. But it’s like watching Jim Carrey now, is the same way I felt about him when I was young. So it’s like a high five to myself across many years. That sounds weird too. Ugh, I am not good with expressing my thoughts today.  

I don’t know, there’s just something about Jim Carrey that stuck with me. I watched The Mask for the first time when I was 6 and that was it for me. I was mesmerized by his facial expressions and his ability to convey the most sincere emotions so effortlessly. I used to reenact scenes from The Mask on the playground when I was in first grade. But that’s neither here nor there.

Maybe it’s because comedy was Jim’s (yes we’re on first name basis) escape from reality when he was going through tough times or because he is so painful unique; there’s just something about him that draws me in every time and hold me so close.  

Someone told me that I remind them of him and it was one of the best compliments I ever received. If I have taken anything from my idol it’s his drive to make himself look like a fool and get everyone laughing. He has no shame twisting his face or body into something wonderful for the sake of getting a laugh.  

Sometimes when I watch Jim Carrey I get this ache in my heart. Like I know that what I’m watching is special. And that I might search forever, and never find an ache like the one he gives me. 

Five year old self

“There was a time when you were five years old, and you woke up full of awesome. You knew you were awesome. You loved yourself. You thought you were beautiful, even with missing teeth and messy hair and mismatched socks inside your grubby sneakers. You loved your body, and the things it could do. You thought you were strong. You knew you were smart. 

Do you still have it? The awesome. Did someone take it from you? Did you let them? Did you hand it over, because someone told you weren’t beautiful enough, thin enough, smart enough, good enough? Why the hell would you listen to them? Did you consider they might be full of shit?   Wouldn’t that be nuts, to tell my little girl below that in another five or ten years she might hate herself because she doesn’t look like a starving and Photoshopped fashion model? Or even more bizarre, that she should be sexy over smart, beautiful over bold? 

Are you freaking kidding me? Look at her. She is full of awesome. You were, once. Maybe you still are. Maybe you are in the process of getting it back.   All I know is that if you aren’t waking up feeling like this about yourself, you are really missing out.” (I found this on Pinterest)

This is amazing. Nothing short of it. How often as girls do we look in the mirror or at each other and scrutinize what’s wrong with our features. I know I’m guilty of it. When did this negative thought-cycle start? Clearly, as grown women we are forced to compete with prettier, skinnier, and better-er women for men’s attention. So is that where it starts? When you start looking for a man, you start hating yourself for every flaw?

My dad has and does always tell me that I am perfect how I am. I know I know, he’s cute like that. Whenever I say out loud that I need to lose weight because I am the size of a whale or the Empire State Building (in NEEEEEEEWWW yOOOOORRRRKKK!!!) my dad gets this sad look on his face like he can’t believe I would think such a lie.

I hope that if/when I have a daughter, she never gets down about her appearance or what everyone else says she should look like. She deserves to be her own beautiful goofy self. And no man deserves her unless he sees that she is beautiful for one reason: She refused to believe the lie.

Oh hey failure....sup?

Because when you don’t give up, you get exactly where you need to be.   

First off, I wrote the above sentence. I’m so baller sometimes I surprise myself. Take a moment to bask in my awesomeness while I take a moment to remember my fake modesty may (hey- I said may) be one of the reasons I am single.

Back to your scheduled program.

Failures and setbacks are a big part of life. I used to get so frustrated when something would fall through, or hardwork didn’t really pay off in the end. Now that I am a wise-owl and 23 years old, I will say this. I misjudged failure. Not that I welcome it into my home and make chocolate fondue for it, but I appreciate it more. Like if I saw it in a Starbucks, while I was contemplating getting one or two blueberry scones, I would wave and say hello. But I would not buy it its vente cappuccino because Starbucks is ridiculously expensive and I am not made of money. I am made of good intentions (-sigh- heartfelt moment).

Failing is probably the best thing anyone could go through. In a weird backwards way, you know I’m right. When you fail, you find out how strong you are. You test your perseverance and you find out the type of person you are when you can’t get what you desperately want. Almost a year ago I didn’t get this job at a well-known company. I was kind of heartbroken at the time. But then I got the job at the place I work at now. I worked hard for 8 months, networked and continued my determination to get onto the marketing team. Guess where I am today? Yup. On the marketing team. Doing a job where I get to write and be creative all day.

Okay, so you're not relating to a career move failure. I’ll relate it to relationships. Then I advise you to go watch a Katherine Hiegl  movie and get your romantic fix for the day. And just some advice, don’t wear sweatpants when you’re so exited.

So anyway. Relationship failures.

When you get your heartbroken by someone you really wanted, it sucks. Obviously. And they say that time is your best friend when getting over someone. But it’s hard to think of time as a friend when said friend is ripping your insides apart one organ at a time with rusty scalpels and their dirty-I’ve-been-gardening-all-day fingernails. At the time of the heartbreak I wanted to die. I would have taken my self-esteem and pride with me, but they had already high-tailed it to the desert with no water or food. They’re smart cookies….cookies….chocolate chip……cookies…..

Gah! Damn it. Sorry.

So anyway. Heartbreak. Had mine broken for the first time about 2 months ago. It was ROUGH. I cried every day for at least two weeks. I was more confused as the days went on because I didn’t get why something so good ended. I felt like I had failed YET AGAIN at something I wanted.

Then I realized that failure is not the enemy. Failure was telling me that it ended because it wasn’t right.

Failure….is….a…..good….thing.

As I look back on the relationship, I realize that I was overlooking a lot of personality traits that would have made us clash in the end. I gave too much credit and faith to things that meshed, but deep down I knew it wasn’t right. And now- after some time has passed- I’m not heartbroken anymore. Because I see that the relationship was a stepping stone to making me be who I needed to be.

I needed the pain and time to heal to realize what I really want and need out of the person I date (and if they’re crazy enough to put up with me forever- marry). I give the people I date a lot of leeway sometimes because I feel like everyone deserves a chance to be themselves. I like getting to know someone’s quirky features and how they operate on a daily basis. I like finding out if we click with our routines. I like learning something new or getting involved in something I never thought I would. (Not drugs or anything illegal- jeeeeeez).

Some days are worse than others when it comes to the thoughts in my head. But right now, the hope I have for my future someone is strong. I don’t know where I’m going, but I know when I get there, he will be waiting for me.

Hopefully it’ll be at a McDonalds because I need a fish filet like STAT. On a side note, I finally got around to watching Super Size Me. I have never been hungrier watching a movie.

Despite how much food is on this, it's not a grocery list

17 things you didn’t know about me but now can never un-know

1.     In the shower I always sing one of three songs: At Last, Unchained Melody, or that one song from Mulan

2.    When I’m eating, I only like to eat one thing at a time. So if I have corn and mash potatoes and steak, I will eat one thing until it’s gone then move on. Do I have OCD? No. It’s not OCD to touch a doorknob with both hands when I walk into a room. Nor is it OCD to make sure I’ve locked my car doors six or twelve times…

3.    No matter what, an inspirational quote can get be back on track. My favorite is by ee cummings “it takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.”

4.    My favorite foods in no particular order but this: pancakes, cheesecake, Subway, mozzarella sticks, plain cheese ravioli, popcorn, chocolate, really ripe apples, Swedish fish, cookie dough ice cream, Tombstone sausage pizza, any pizza, more pizza, Chinese food, chocolate long johns, chicken and dumpling soup, cheetos, gyros, waffle fries, cake shakes from Portillos, broccoli and cheese, hot dogs……what is wrong with me?

5.    I would love to live in an ocean front cottage and write all day. With a dog and the person I love. A nice wraparound porch. Listening to the waves every morning and night. Going for runs on the beach. Watching thunderstorms. Living the good life

6.    Everything makes me cry

7.    I wear a size 11 shoe

8.    My humor used to be a defense mechanism but I’ve realized it’s the only thing that will get me anywhere in life

9.    I’m not the most interesting man in the world. I don’t always drink beer, but when I do, I regret it

10. I’m still deciding if it would be worth it to quit my job and just stalk Louis CK for awhile…and for awhile I mean forever

11.  I like watching movies by myself

12. I have a moneytree plant. His name is Hamilton. Alexander Hamilton

13. I love reading and writing so much I want to name my children Penn, Paige, Reid and Patrick. What? I like the name Patrick

14. I want a dog so I can have something that loves me and won’t go away

15. My guilty pleasure is Taylor Swift songs. That girl just gets me.

16. When I grow up, I want to be Tina Fey and marry Zachary Levi

And Finally….

17. To sum up my ever mess of a love life here is a quote….”I think a part of me will always be waiting for you”…

Inception jokes NOT included

Depending on how well you know me, you will at one point have had to listen to me retelling one of my many bizarre dreams. Dreams like I’m asleep at night dreams. Not I want to marry Andy Sandberg dreams. Now I don’t have normal dreams like I was in a forest and then there was a tree. I’m not a hobbit and my imagination is waaaaaaaaaaaaaay more messed up than that.

For the most part, my dreams are so complex and detailed filled, they should be a 20^th Century Fox Production. I’m sure everyone has crazy dreams but I remember minute details of them to the point where I can recall facial expressions, patterns on clothing and 20 more minutes worth of details.

I am super into interpreting dreams and writing down key words to look up later. The coolest part about dreams is that they really do give you an insight to your waking life. Recently, I have been having the same Hunger Games-like dream. Now I know what you’re thinking, “Lex, although the movie was decent (-and the books were a billion times better like always- and thank you for saying the books were better. No one reads anymore and I always feel so lame because I am the only person under the age of 48 and over the age of 3 that goes to the library-and checks books out- on a weekly basis) I bet you’re having these dreams because you’re so into the series.

False.

I saw the movie a month ago, and I have moved on with my life. But having this reoccurring dream about being put in an arena to fight or to have to survive in a barren land is not completely all about being a fan of a fiction series. I think a lot of it has to do with the THEME of the dream.

Which would be fighting and defending.

I’m not sure if I’m having a quarter life crisis (a year early, I know, I mature fast) or what, but lately, everything and I mean everything feels like a battle.

Career

Between trying to get taken seriously or continuing to defend my work and prove that I am capable of responsibilities- it’s an uphill daily battle.

Improv

Pushing myself to get outside my comfort zone and fail. Which sounds weird but it’s the only way I will get better. And I’m trying to be amazing for myself and team and make something out of this comedy dream.

Relationships

It’s wearisome continuing to show that I mean what I say and I’m all in. All the time.

It’s rough when you don’t know your place in the world. Or where you stand with certain people. It makes me borderline panic attacky wondering where or what (please don’t let me be homeless) I will be in a year from now. Even in a month from now. My life is forever shifting from day to day. A choice I make today could affect my life path. That freaks me out. Granted all I plan on doing today is eating Subway (footlong on the flat bread, toasted, turkey, American cheese, lettuce, pickles and mayo) and writing, so I might be safe from any life altering decisions. 

I digress.

Dreams. My dreams lately have had a lot to do with bathrooms. Now, yes, I do get up frequently to pee during the night. No, I will not see a doctor, I am fine. Yes I mind you continually asking me about it. Maybe I will stop drinking water so close to going to sleep. Yes you are annoying me. Are you done? Great.

I couldn't resist

Bathrooms- in dreams- can symbolize a ton of different meanings (obviously). The dream I had last night involved me going into a public bathroom and not waiting in line to use the next current available stall. The first stall I tried to go in was occupied by a maintenance man trying to fix it. Then I went into the last one, shut the door, and did my business. Which really was just me sitting on the toilet. Then flushing and feeling better.

Interpretation of said dream

Bathrooms usually indicate how we are feeling emotionally. I was in a public bathroom which means that my emotional state is being shared by many people-in public. This makes sense because 1- I write this blog and don’t hold back about a lot of stuff and 2- I share everything with my friends.

Not waiting in line for the bathroom means that I am actually putting myself first- above everyone else’s feelings. This is something that is new to me. I am the person that will make sure everyone else is accommodated and happy before I worry- and even then it doesn’t matter- about my happiness. So the fact that I had no guilt about putting myself first is a good thing. It means I am finally understanding and standing up for what I know is right. For me.

The maintenance guy throws me for a loop but I think it means that my first choice was someone trying to “fix me” but I didn’t want any part of it. Instead of taking his help I moved on and found another solution.

Doing my business in a bathroom is symbolic because it is literally “flushing out emotions and worries”. Wonder why I am dreaming about doing that. (ß That was sarcasm in case the text didn’t translate my eye rolling and snort.)

I’m overwhelmed by a lot right now. I think I am just going to take a page out of my bathroom book reader and listen to my dreams. So here’s to sitting in my metaphorical stall and flushing out my thoughts and emotions. Life stinks sometimes.

But poop humor makes it a little better.

For what it's worth

I’m really goofy. Like, throw-off-your-train-of-thought goofy. I don’t really mind being the butt of a joke. I don’t mind taking endless jabs if it’ll make you laugh. Make fun of me, laugh at my expense. If you’re laughing, I don’t care. As long as I am the cause.

There’s a lot of things about me that I wish I could change. Most of them are physical things. Actually, all of them are. Which makes me happy. Because WHO I am and WHAT I stand for and HOW I act toward people is what is really important. And I’m really proud of those features on myself.

I’ve realized that I’m a wear your heart on your sleeve kind of girl. If I like you, you’re going to know. If I’m hurt by something you said or did, you’re going to know. But I also forgive those I care about and love. A lot of people tell me that I fall too hard, give too much and adore too quick.

But that’s just who I am.

If I know someone is right, why would I waste time not giving them everything I have? Yes I know that isn’t the smartest choice because that’s how you get hurt. But I don’t care. I’m not going to hold back because I’m scared or because you don’t reciprocate. I’m going to tell you I like you. A lot. And often.

Because it’s the truth.

I’m all about honesty. I don’t have time to waste on mind games. I want to spend that time enjoying our time together. I’m also not one to share either….but that’s a post for another day. Jeez, I feel like my thoughts are all over the place this week but I guess what I’m trying to say is this.

I’m not like every other girl out there. I’m different. I don’t take 5 hours to go out for the night, I will more than likely get water over a drink, I will laugh too long, listen too long, care for you more than anyone could ever have the energy for, I will always be there, I won’t keep you on a short leash (or any lease for that matter), I will always support you, I will always push you to be the best person you can be, I will never give up on you, I will wake up every day with a smile knowing we're together, I will make funny faces at you to get you to smile, I will light up when I see you, I will kiss you when you’re mad at me, I will kiss you when I’m mad at you, I will always have your back, I will feel safe knowing I’m falling asleep in your arms….I could go on but I won’t…just know this….

I will do anything for you….if you’re willing to give me a chance.

I make a lot of mistakes. My feelings cloud my judgement. My feelings make me overthink a lot. But that's just who I am. I'm willing to get hurt. Over and over and over again. Because it's worth it. Always. I'm just looking for someone who thinks I'm worth it. Always.

I say a lot of shitty things sometimes because I speak from the heart. Sometimes sadness comes out, sometimes it's sharp anger. But if I'm still talking to you after you've hurt me, it means I haven't given up. 

You don't have to give me a reason to stay. I already have one. It's you.

This might hurt a little

But because once you tell someone how you feel, you’re giving them permission to hurt you

I came across this quote the other day and love it. Love it like my mother pretends to love me. Kidding, my mom adores me. Who wouldn’t? Don’t answer that.

The hardest thing for me to do is open up to someone. Because as the quote said, it gives them permission to hurt you. Not that they will intentionally hurt you, but the opportunity is always there.

I always thought that loving someone meant they had to never break your trust, never let you down and never be anything less than how you picture them in your mind.

That is a ridiculous way of looking at love.

Because love is none of the above. When you love someone—and I mean, truly love someone—they can break your heart a thousand times and your feelings never falter. You don’t keep track of how many times they made you angry or sad. You just want to be with them. And you hope they share and exhibit the same definition of love.

Sometimes you meet someone and you feel like you’ve known him your entire life. You have a goofy grin on your face whenever you see him. And you know your heart is saying “there you are”.

Have I been in love? Yes. Has it mostly been with food? Yes.

But that’s beside the point.

Having feelings for someone means your daily life is going to change. Schedules you were used to will shift, your friends MAY see a little less of you, and you become part of something that has awesome potential to change your life.

On one hand, love is about giving someone the opportunity to hurt you, but it’s also about having someone accept you fully despite your faults, scars and general awkwardness. True love means they still want you around even after knowing everything about you.

I’m scared. Scared of letting this guy in. But slowly I’ve started to let go. And am continuing to let go and let him in. He has all the power in the world to destroy me. I’m just hoping that he won’t.

Because I know I’m not going to hurt him. He’s kinda special to me. It’s terrifying to have something you want so bad, because if you lose it….

….well, I don’t really want to think about that what if.  

 Because right now, this is the only thing i truly believe. 

I live with my parents

I know you guys are all super turned on by the fact I live with my parents. I love my family more than anything in the world. But when you are single and 23 years old, living at home reallllly kills your opportunity to get any kind of action. Even if I do snag a guy (no I didn’t drug him) and he asks me out on a date, I can’t necessarily bring him back to my place because, well….it’ll be easier if I explain it in a story.   

Let me set the mood for you.

We’ll go out to a nice dinner, holding hands and kissing in the car, then park outside my suburbia house. We go through the keyless entry garage, past my dad’s shrine to the Chicago Bulls. Walk into the house where you see not one, but several pictures of me throughout my life. They’re not pretty pictures. I have braces. Pimples. No prom pictures though. The only perk of not being asked to go by anyone.

We sneak up to my room. Which is just past my parents’ room. They’re sleeping, don’t worry. And ignore my dad snoring like he’s never slept a day in his life. My mom? She only gets up every hour to pee, she won’t disturb our sexy time. That weird smell? Yeah, my brother lives at home too. He doesn’t shower too often. No seriously, it’s not a dead animal. It’s just what my brother’s room normally emits.

We finally sweep into my room. Past the door that has random positive quotes on it so I can make it through another god-forsaken day living under this roof. My room is purple. Not Barney purple, but close enough. There are posters of Fall Out Boy, Jason Segal and Louis CK. I know, I fucking rock.

I’ve got a bookshelf filled to capacity with books and movies. Jonas Brothers Season 1, check. All the seasons of The Office, check. Too many young adult fiction novels, check. Like I mentioned earlier, I fucking rock.

We fall onto my bed. The bedspread smells like old stale popcorn and spit. I forgot to wash it. Actually, I’ve never washed it. You now stop wondering why I didn’t date in high school. I have a twin mattress on top of a tan bed frame from IKEA. It has three pull out shelves at the bottom. At first glance it looks like a trundle bed for three small toddlers. No need to worry about what are in the drawers baby, just keep kissing me.

My pants come off and the old stale popcorn smell gets stronger. You realize that I sleep naked, and my ass smells like old stale popcorn. You’re not sure you’re still into me, but from here on out, every time you go to the movies and get popcorn, you get a boner.

Things start getting a little hotter and a little heavier, mainly because I’m on top of you and I like eating candy. So I could stand to lose a few lbs, big deal. Anyway, so we start sexy timing it when we hear it. A creak of the floorboards. We stop. Holding our breath. A flush of the toilet. More creaking of floorboards. Silence.

We smile in the dark and start kissing again only to be interrupted by a BANG BANG BANG. We throw ourselves off each other like we’ve been doused in water and electrocuted. My mom is outside my door saying, “hi sweetie. Heard you come in. I just had to use the bathroom. Goodnight!” Floorboards creak. Silence. Dad snores twice. Silence.

By now you already have your clothes back on, muttering in the dark about having to take your grandma to her eye appointment in the morning. I’m slightly intoxicated by the old stale popcorn smell, then realize it’s my stinky ass, and snap back to reality.

I throw you your sock that got lodged under one of my pillows. You quickly finish tying up your shoes and you’re down the stairs and out the front door before I can even comprehend why this is happening again.

You don’t call.

I can't imagine why you would.

I want popcorn. And need a shower. 

Overthinking

Here’s the thing about girls: we are all overthinkers. Shocker right? Who would have thought that the gender dominating in multi-tasking would use that gift to think themselves into a deep dark black hole while working and doing 800 other shitty tasks.

I’ve always been a daydreamer. To the point that if something awesome happened, I could think about it all day and be content. Daydreaming of various scenarios pertaining to famous crushes and crushes in general got me through boring high school and college classes. But enough about me and my awesomeness, I’m here to talk about girls and overthinking.

Which we do. A lot. Especially when it comes to boys.

The following is my thought process when I see an attractive guy: Ooooooo he’s cute…puppy dog eyes….nice teeth….I can appreciate his t-shirt that proudly displays his college logo….he seems like a sweetheart…I bet he would hold my hand while we were driving….I bet my parents would love him…when I cry he will sit with me and let me talk myself hoarse….on our anniversaries he’ll book a weekend away where we can be together and connect…and whenever he kisses me, he kisses me like it’s the first and last time…when he asks me to marry him it’ll be the perfect proposal at that park we went to that one time when we were still getting to know each other…his arms are so strong so he will be good at carrying our kids around the house…he’s the type of guy that loves you more as the years go on.

Freaked out yet? You should be. Because the above is the usual train of thought girls have when they see a guy they like.

FACT: In the 15 seconds that follow us seeing you for the first time, we have already planned out the next 20 years of our lives together.

As girls, we are trying to see if you have long term potential even before we know your name. This is mainly because we want to see if you are worth the impending heartache we are setting ourselves up for.  

I can relate. (I’m sure you can too, but I’m talking now—you will get your turn J)

There is this boy that I know, just know, will lead to heartbreak. Why am I so pessimistic about something that isn’t even anything?

Because I am an overthinker. Come on, you saw that coming.  

This guy is an awesome dude. He’s funny as all shit, smarter than a lot of the population and I feel like I’ve known him for years. Problem is that in reality, we we’ve known each other for about a month. A month isn’t that long. Especially when it comes to making hard hitting decisions involving feelings, emotions and all that other Hallmark mumbo-jumbo.

For me, I can’t help but think of the future. It’s what I’m working toward. Because if I’m making my plans, I want to see if he fits into them. I want to know that if I am making sacrifices for him, he’s going to stick around. 


I realize that falling for someone is like diving head-first into the shallow end of the pool. But having feelings for someone—and constantly wondering and agonizing if those feelings are reciprocated—feels more like diving into the shallow end of a cement filled pool.

Think about this: you fall for someone. You know what happens when you fall? You get hurt. No one falls down a flight of stairs and gets up unscathed. Falling for someone is the same: you’re going to feel every single fucking thing on the way down. And the pain doesn’t stop when you hit the ground. It just intensifies. And you have to live your life a little broken. A little worse for wear. And yet, we continue to take a chance on the stairs. 

Falling for someone means sleepless nights of questions and doubt.   

That uncertainty is what starts the overthinking. The constant replay of every little detail of your interactions and silences and words. It’s torture. Whoever said that being single is fun and invigorating is full of horse and donkey shit. Constantly putting you and your self-esteem out there is the worst. It’s worse than knowing the cast of Jersey Shore makes more in one episode than you do in a year.

I am impatient. So the fact that dating is a waiting game, does not sit well with me.

And for some reason, I always feel like I’m the one waiting for the guy to make it official…for him to choose me…for him to decide that he doesn’t want another girl…for me to be enough to maintain his attention. I hate myself a little for writing that. So much of my life is spent wondering about what he’s thinking about. If he thinks about me every other moment. Or at all. I ponder obsessively if he wonders what it would be like to have me around for always.

I know that no one can promise what the future is going to bring. I’m just looking for a guy that knows what lies ahead is a mystery, but who will hold his hand through it all isn’t. Because he knows that whatever shit is coming, it won’t be that bad. Because he has me. And that will be enough.

Wishful overthinking. 

I didn't have corn!

The worst part of liking someone is how nervous you get. I’m talking more than just sweaty palms and becoming a stuttering mess. I’m talking about the nervous shits.

You all know what I’m talking about.

One of my best friends brought this problem to light one day when she was telling me about how anxious she was to see the guy she’s in love with. I think her exact words were “my loose bowels better keep their shit together.” Like I mentioned before, my friends are really the best.

I know when I get nervous about a date or seeing a certain someone like JS, it’s like my entire insides think I’ve eaten nothing but fiber for the past 23 years. The worst is when you are about to leave for a date and your stomach does that errrruuughhmmmghh sound and your asshole is thinking “game time” and your mind is saying “WHY ME????” and your toilet is thinking “bitch please” and your self esteem has already drowned itself.

Not only are you on the toilet hunched over like you’ve just been shot in the abdomen, but your perfectly blow-dried hair is matted to your forehead with sweat. Your eye has developed a twitch because of the force of everything leaving your ass. You shakily pull your phone out and text your date that you’re running late, making the excuse that your gas tank is empty and you needed to fill up.

What a shitty lie. (poop humor, I know, I want to do me raw too)

Listen, it’s okay if you get the nervous shits before you see the guy of your dreams. Chances are he has them too. Only difference is that he probably enjoys them. Guys are weird like that.

Because I am adorable

Even if you've never watched the show Chuck, you can still appreciate how adorable Zachary Levi is. This is one of my favorite scenes mainly because of Zach's line at 1:10. Melts my heart.

Zachary Levi is seriously the ultimate dude. In terms of looks, manner and overall sexiness. For real. If I said I had a type, it would be him. There's something about sweet and kind guys that is so irresistible. And the look in his eyes before he kisses her is just wonderful. Sigh.

I would do dirty, unspeakable things for this man's attention

I didn't shower today

For starters, I didn’t shower this morning. It’s not that I’m a hippie or being all green or whatever. It had to do with either sleeping for 40 minutes more, or looking clean.

Sleeping always wins.

Granted, maybe I shouldn’t be staying out with my improv group until 1am on a Tuesday. But what can I do? They’re my best friends and hysterically funny. They make it hard to go home.  

Back to showering—or lack thereof it.

I may not be the most put together person at work today. I think I smell (I tried to do a pit sniff but too many people were around), my hair is in a greasy/messy (read—not cute) ponytail, and I have my glasses on. Basically, I’m not presenting my A game right now. I’m playing with a K game. And that’s being generous.

This wouldn’t be a big deal because, you know, it’s just one day and I’m super busy with work. But the guy I’m crushing on, who from here on out will be named JS, works with me. Thankfully he is on the phone all day in sales and sits far (ish) away from me.

Still.

I had to use the printer by his desk, which means I walked by and exchanged a few words. Then I had to pee. Now, I hate HATE HATE looking at myself in the mirror in any public setting, especially with fluorescent lights beating down on the mess that I call myself. So, for some reason, after talking to JS and heading to the bathroom, I decide to see how bad the damage is today.

Yuck.

Which brings me to the actual point I’m trying to make. Guys can get up, not shower, throw a hat on, any shirt and pants, and be out the door. In my honest opinion, guys look better a bit scraggly and disheveled. When I try to follow suit, I just look like I got hit with a shovel.

Whine moment…followed by a heavy wine moment/hour (like what I did there? You’re not a fan of word play? Shame. You’re kind of cute).

Girls have it rough. Between worrying about make-up, flat stomach, boobs, hair highlights, classy clothes….I’m exhausted typing out this checklist. I’m not a girly-girl. At all. I can take anyone in any sport and hold my own. I’m proud of myself that it doesn’t take me two hours to get ready to go out. Or that when I go to the gym, I’m there to sweat, not to bounce around for the pleasure of the dudes working out.

If I were a dude, I would want a girl like me. Someone who isn’t high maintenance, who can kick it on a Saturday watching ESPN highlights for the 12^th time, eat a huge pizza, and not be afraid to throw out a That’s What She Said quip. I’m not saying I don’t like looking all dolled up, or being called beautiful, I’m just saying that there is so much more to me than the part in my hair and the cup size under my shirts.

I’m messy and awkward and not graceful. Weird sounds come out of me and I sweat a lot. But I also have an unwavering loyalty to my friends (and maybe someday a boyfriend—JS?). I go out of my way to make their lives better because it makes my life happier knowing they are smiling and laughing. I’m really goofy and say really random things to get a reaction out of whomever I’m with. Not because I’m trying to be a hipster or annoying, it’s because I’m trying to see who can play along and keep up. I’m attracted to people who keep me on my toes and thinking.  

I may not be the prettiest girl in the room. But you’re going to remember me because I bring more to the table than my big brown eyes. I promise you, if you had to describe me, my looks would come at the end of the list. Not because I’m hideous, but because there’s a lot of awesome stuff that takes priority over the way I look.

Because at the end of the day, you want to go home to someone that makes you laugh, makes you forget why you were stressed, and is comfortable enough with themselves that it allows you to shine as bright as you should.

Maybe I am the solution. To someone. 

Side note

There’s this boy. That would laugh if he knew. How scared I am. To see this through.

Look what having crushes do to you. I’m rhyming words, not sleeping, actually caring about what I wear every day so I look semi-presentable.

Worst part is.....he knows I’ve got it bad.

Damn it.

Texty Text

Texting. It’s a nightmare. I would rather piss my pants while giving a speech in front of GQ models than spend another minute agonizing over texting with a dude. They say that you should wait between 1 and 6 minutes to return a text. Why you might ask? SO YOU DON’T LOOK LIKE YOU DON’T HAVE A LIFE.

Whoa. Caps Lock button got stuck.

1 to 6 minutes? That seems like such a long time to respond, especially if you’ve been waiting 30 minutes for his response. I mean--- uhh--- okay fine. When I like a dude, I am glued to my phone. Every text of “hahaha” or some other random lame convo we’re having is like cocaine. Eh, cocaine may be too strong of a comparison. Like crystal meth. Yeah, that’s more accurate.

You get my point.

I don’t want to wait around “pretending” that I’m busy with something else, when all I really want to do is talk to him. Yes, I could call him and hear his voice but maybe you should stop telling me what to do. You’re not my mom. Or maybe you are. Mom- if you’re reading this stop. Seriously.

The thing about texting is that it’s like passing notes. It’s a little nugget of a secret that only you can see. Well, you and whatever friend you’re forwarding it to so you can dissect every character and period of his less than 20 word message.

The bottom line is that these rules about waiting a certain amount of time to respond are ridiculous. If you like a guy, then who cares? Be super interested in him. Fall crazy hard in love. Just make sure you have unlimited texting.

Not a sob story

It’s not that I’ve been hurt in the past. I’ve been destroyed. I’ve been blindsided (not to be confused with that football movie with Sandra Bullock. I recommend it. It’s pretty good).

I digress.

No matter how bad things have turned out with guys in the past, for some reason, I still have this flicker of hope that this pain is necessary. I’m not a masochistic person. I don’t look for aching agony. I just think, when it’s all said and done, I’ll be grateful for the pain that led me to happiness. Happiness that I will never ever (ever ever….seriously ever) take for granted.

There are a lot of reasons why I’m single.

I’m starting to think I’m the problem.

But then that means I’m also the solution.