Category Archives: relationships

Texting under the influence (aka the 21st century love letter)

Back in the day, when exposed ankles were considered scandalous and corsets were all the rage, men paid troubadours to compose and perform love songs for the object of their affection. Now a days, ladies receive a run-on sentence along the lines of ‘Hiiii I’m drunkh I like youu a lottf I shoulddnt haveg drunk that last whiskey and tomic let’s makeout” message in their inbox at 2:08 am. How romantic.

Drunk texting (which sometimes can border line on sexting depending on how desperate the guy is) has become a regular weekend occurance for a lot of twenty-somethings. So much so that some phones offer devices that help prevent texting or dialing under the influence. 

Virgin Mobile  launched a service five years ago to prevent “dialing under the influence.”  Under the system, Virgin Mobile customers could nominate a phone number they did not trust themselves to avoid calling or texting when drunk. That number would then be “blacklisted” until 6am the following day, preventing any “accidental” drunken communications.

 Drunk texting is the 21st century equivalent to the Elizabethian-era sonnet. As soon as the bar lights come on and people realize they’re probably going to go home alone, they’ll open up their phones and start pouring their hearts out into empty inboxes. It’s the desperation mixed with the loneliness mixed with alcohol, and it’s usually pretty hysterical to wake-up to the next morning, unless you’re the sender, then it’s downright embarrassing.

love and loss and rocks

Sometimes in life a person finds themselves stuck between a rock and a hard place. And the only way to get around that rock is to blow it up with dynamite, or breakup with it. The rock, most likely, will not enjoy being blown up or dumped and thus will hold the clothes and books you left at its house hostage (including a Bukowski book that you really, really love and want back). The rock will also call you a bunch of names and drag your good name through the mud because its ego was wounded, and you, in return, will question your choice to put an end to things and cry yourself to sleep three nights in a row. You will also accidentally drink too much red wine and dance with a nice but very unattractive boy who’ll call you the next day, and then you will feel worse.
        After a much needed dinner and discussion about the whole incident with your best guy friend, you come to the realization that it was in your best interest to dump the rock. Even though you hurt it, the relationship between the two of you wasn’t really going anywhere. Your best guy friend told you to forgive the rock for its harsh criticisms of you, and you sighed deeply, looked down at your lap, and remembered a time when you had your heart broken and lashed out. And thus you allowed your thoughts to become gentle and forgave.
        There are moments in our lives when the timing is totally and completely and unforgivably off. You meet a person who could potentially be your Siamese soul-twin, and he’s ready to settle down and start a family and you, on the other hand, are planning on leaving the country in a year. You work a 9-5 office job and he works a 7pm-3am bartending job and you never, ever see each other. But you dig in your heels and you try. You try because you really like this guy and he has promised you the world and he cooks for you and tells you that you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen and your heart mourns his absence.
        Sometimes love isn’t enough. Sometimes two people can be so right for each other but outside factors play into the demise of their relationship. It’s nobody’s fault, it’s just that life got in the way. Don’t feel guilty. There is no need for guilt. Just know that you tried, and that sometimes, it is better to have loved and lost than to wake up to that particular person for the rest of your life.

You don’t know a person until you’ve been snowed in with them for 36 hours

So, incase you live inside an atrium or were vacationing in Florida and didn’t know, Philly had this huuuuge blizzard that dumped 27 inches of snow all over the tri-state area and ruined my Saturday night plans. Pfft.

Instead of going to two super fun parties like I was suppose to, I was stuck inside with my boyfriend. Now, I know that sounds very romantic – oh, it snowed and you two are stranded inside your apartment and blah blah blah. YahhhhNO. I felt more like one of the members of the Donner party. There was no food in my apartment and we were trapped.

Everything was fine until about 2pm because we were asleep. Once we actually got up and had to deal with the fact that I had no food, alcohol, or cable, things got pretty dour. At first, we tried going back to sleep. Well, at least I did. Then, we tried having a deep, soulful conversation. This quickly changed into an argument about how we were going to get to the Acme that was 15 blocks away if there weren’t any cabs running. He suggested sucking it up and walking. I suggested eating the dog.

Two long, cold, frostbitten hours later, we were back in my kitchen with three bags stuffed with milk, bread, eggs, cheese, soup, chips, and water. After he made us dinner, he shoveled out my car while I napped. And then he headed to work (he’s a bartender).

It’s funny how bad weather brings out the best in people. You may fight and huff and puff in the beginning, but after the snow has settled and you see how quiet and peaceful a city can become, you really start thanking your lucky stars that you have somebody that will walk to the grocery-store with you.

Best Frenemies Forever

I have always prefered the company of dudes over women. This aspect of my personality was brought to light this past Friday at the party I threw. At one point, I looked around the room and realized that I was one of about four people out of a group of twenty who had ovaries.

I have always been very fearful of women. There have been several key points throughout my life that have made me not only distrust female relationships, but completely shy away from them as a whole.

When I was in college, I had this very powerful yet tumultuous friendship with a girl named K. Our freshman year, K was raped at a party I brought her to. After that, I felt this misguided maternal instinct to protect her from everything because I partly blamed myself for what happened to her.

K and I did everything together. We drank, we studied, we danced. I told her my entire story, shared the best and the worst of myself with her. Our sophomore year, K tried to kill herself and ended up in the hospital for awhile. I came and visited when I could. I brought her presents and homework assignments, though it destroyed me to see her the way she was.

That spring semester, K ended up sleeping with a boy I was involved with. I had never experienced that kind of betrayal from such a close friend before. Even though I eventually forgave her, that was the beginning of the end for us.

Our junior year, we started hanging out with different people. I had plans of transfering to a different college and was also seriously dating this one guy. I started hearing from different sources that K was dragging my name through the mud and starting rumors about things that I never did. She had also started using all of the deep, personal information I had told her as ammo against me. When I confronted her, she lashed out and deeply, deeply wounded me. I have never heard such nasty things come out of a person’s mouth before that were directed at me, nor do I ever think I will again.

My post-collegiate years have been spent trying to cultivate genuine friendships that will hopefully last a lifetime. Many of these friendships have been created with guys who are like brothers to me.

I think that I have always felt safer around men. Guys are much more direct when they have a problem with each other. They will either yell or punch something or shoot things in a video-game. Regardless of what they do, it is obvious that they are angry. Women are much more calculating. Instead of being confrontational, they will bad mouth you behind your back to other girls.

Society has played a huge role in creating these passive aggressive tendencies in women. We were brought up expecting to be pleasers, all rainbows and sugar and spice and everything nice. We were never fully taught to express negative emotions towards another person. We had to simply suck it up and smile and continue playing house or dress-up.

It’s a shame because I do crave female companionship. It gets a little bit tiring to always be your guy friend’s wingman at the bar, drinking beer and cracking fart jokes. Sometimes all I really want to do is get dolled up, order one of those giant, dayglow colored fruitini drinks, and go dancing to Lady Gaga in heels.

Save the drama for yo’ mama

I think that the 20’s are a time to sort out all of the unnecessary drama in your life so that by the time you’re 30, you don’t have to deal with it. I, for one, loathe drama and try to avoid it entirely. But for the past month, it seems, that’s all I’ve been surrounded by. Friend drama, guy drama, work drama. And the worst part is that there seems to be no end in sight. That light at the end of the tunnel is probably just another freight-train full of drama barreling my way.

Sometimes I wonder if people unintentionally create drama to spice up their lives. I know that seems like a silly notion, but here me out. Let’s say you have a girl, we’ll call her Sally, who works a typical 9-5 office job. She shares a two bedroom apartment with her female roommate and a cat. Sally isn’t the most intriguing or pretty girl, but she does have a close group of tight-knit friends and a decent-enough boyfriend. She goes to the gym twice a week, frequents the local neighborhood dives on the weekends, and spends the rest of her free time either at her boyfriend’s loft or watching television. She leads a pretty standard existence. 

Sally has never been met with any real tragedy in her life. She comes from an upper middle-class background, both of her parents are alive and well, and she’s physically and mentally sound. 

After about two years of working at the same job in the same position due to the economy, living in the same apartment with the same girl, dating the same guy, and hanging out with the same people week after week after week, Sally starts becoming antsy. She wants more out of her life but she doesn’t know what changes she should make in order to feel fulfilled. She’s tried new hobbies. She’s tried hanging out with different people, but nothing seems to work. She’s stuck in a rut and has been for years.

Do you think it’s possible for Sally and her close group of friends to suddenly start inventing drama where none existed in the first place? Can boredom lead to drama? Do you think it’s possible for Sally to start antagonizing her friends and vice versa simply because they need some kind of excitement?

Writer Kurt Vonnegut thought that because we grew up surrounded by big dramatic story arcs in books and movies, we think our lives are supposed to be filled with huge ups and downs. So people pretend there is drama where there isn’t any.

What do you think? Do you think people create their own drama or is drama something that just happens?

I am a princess and I shall get my way

I was coddled as a child. No. Eighty-six that. I was downright spoiled. My parents gave me everything I ever wanted and more. I had toys, clothes, and a car. I even had a pony (yes, a real live pony). They were wonderful, giving, selfless people who wanted their children to have the world. And I took full advantage of this.

As a teenager, I learned to manipulate my parents into giving me what I wanted. I would cry. I would sulk. I would beg. I would cause guilt-trips. I would scream. I was a self-diluted princess and my family were my servants. 

Now, at the ripe old age of 25, I am mortified by the way I behaved back then. Yet, I still suffer from selfish tendencies. I don’t blame my parents for making me this way, but their constant doting did lend some contribution to the way I turned out. I still sometimes act like a toddler with a tiara on her head rolling around on the floor and sobbing.

It’s a part of my personality that I’m not happy about and I’m trying to work on. Even in this new “adult” chapter of my life I put myself first. I did something regrettably stupid and irresponsible and insensitive to my dad and sister last month that I’m still having trouble dealing with. And the sad part is that I had no idea my actions were wrong until both of them called me out on it. I was so oblivious to the feelings of others (and to top it off, these “others” were my own FAMILY) that I couldn’t even see that my actions were hurtful. 

I guess part of your twenties involves beating that stupid little brat inside of you with a leather belt. People need to become more aware of how their words and actions affect other people. It’s so ironic that most of us know the golden rule by heart, but we rarely seem to follow it in our day-to-day interactions with others. And we don’t do this on purpose. We just don’t know any better because our heads are jammed so tightly up our butts. 

 

I am three bad dates away from owning 40 cats

25091156_4daf2ef10dDo you remember that saying “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me?”  Well, what happens if you get fooled a third time? You’re a goddamn idiot.

There’s this particular boy that I was introduced to about five weeks ago. Let’s call him Adonis. The first time I met him I was immediately floored. He’s drop dead gorgeous and is well aware of the fact that he is God’s gift to women. Granted, he’s an idiot, but with a face and a body like that, it’s okay that his IQ is somewhere down around room temperature. 

Now, I am not looking for a relationship, but I do want somebody who I can start emotionally investing in. I thought Adonis would be the ideal candidate. He’s hot, he’s funny, he can cook, and we have a lot of mutual friends so I get to see him on a rather consistent basis. The one big downfall though is that it feels like I am dating a 12 year old. And he’s a bit of a flake.

We’ve been doing this bizarre little waltz for the past week or so now and I think my friends are getting tired of my pining. I’ll go out to the bar and Adonis will be there and for the first hour we’ll ignore each other completely. Instead, we’ll secretly pry the other’s friends for information. Does she like me? Is he seeing anybody else? What’s the deal? Then, he’ll make a weird gesture or remark and I’ll give him the ‘WTF’ look and from there, the evening is glorious. There will be promises made of him coming back to my apartment, witty banter, and a hand on my lower back. I’ll get my hope up and ask him to call me and he  says he will and he’ll say he’ll be over in an hour and then…

Nothing. Zip. Zero. Me, alone in my bathtub with a beer.

I hate when I do this to myself. I hate when I choose to listen to my heart instead of my gut and I wind up looking and feeling like an idiot. I hate when I repeatedly allow a guy to take advantage of me and fall for the same line again and again and again. I am better than this.

Why do we do this to ourselves? Why do single, successful women sit around staring at a phone that is never going to ring? Why do we hope and hope that this time he’ll call when he says he’s going to? Why do we even want him to call at all?

Hope is a nasty little thing. It’s the air inside that keeps me afloat despite myself. Sometimes I wish that I could just pop the red hope balloon inside of my heart and drag it around behind me and mope. 

Adonis won’t ever call me. We won’t end up having a love affair of epic proportions. I might see him again at the bar next weekend, and we may talk, and he may touch my cheek in that certain way, but he won’t call. And I won’t ask or expect him to.