I’ve begun writing for the website Twenties Hacker and you should all go read my first post and stay tuned for more posts every Monday @ 5pm!
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When I was three, I told my pregnant mother that I wanted a sister and she’d better deliver on her promise to make so because girls rule and boys drool or something to that nature.
A month later, my mom delivered a healthy baby boy and shattered all of my dreams.
Don’t get me wrong—I love my kid brother and he’s a great person. But he’s not a girl and I couldn’t talk to him about my period or how all I wanted to do was kiss this boy I liked but was too afraid to make the first move. And I mean, I couldn’t play Barbies with him, which was really my main objective as a three year old!
Looking back, I’d never trade Brian in for a sister. I mean, I’m sure having a sister is great fun and whatnot, but having a sibling who is a polar opposite of me in every sense of the word has really molded the kind of person I am and I like the person I am! That being said, being able to relate more to the male species meant I was not so great when it came to relate to my female peers. Like, sure, I wanted someone to play Barbie & Ken with me or paint nails, bake, play dress up, etc. But I didn’t want to hear about how Ashley said Jessica’s hair was ugly just because she was mad that Jessica wouldn’t let her be the motherly figure while playing house! I was one hundred percent concerned in having fun all of the time and showing the boys that I could do everything that they could do — better.
In fact, I knew I was boy crazy when I was five. Which seems early, but I assure you it’s most likely normal (please don’t bother me if it’s not).
There was this boy when I was five, you see; I swore I loved Kyle the first time I laid eyes on him while sitting on the carpet of my kindergarten class on the first day of school, waiting for my name to called. I think he loved me too for a while! He would sit on the carpet next to me during reading time, we’d play tether ball at recess, when my mom brought cupcakes for my entire class because I was turning six and it was a great day, he held my hand while singing Happy Birthday to me with the class! It was true six year old love, obviously! We were so made for each other it was undeniable that, someday, we’d get married and have the cutest little life together! We were adorable and every girl in class was jealous of the fact that he gave me the only pick Power Rangers valentine card that came in the box of Power Rangers valentines that his mom had probably gotten at KMart on BlueLight Special.
However, all good things must come to an end and in the first grade, a new girl was transferred to our school from Western Germany. She was taller than me, she had better Barbie dolls than me, her clothes were all hand picked from Baby Gap & Dillard’s, she was a world traveler a la the Army, and she had shiny blond hair that she could sit on if her butt got cold at recess! I was completely pushed to the side as Kyle saw her as ideal and began giving her all of the pink Power Rangers Valentines. Anyway, the point of all of this is that it was on this day that Nicole swooped in and stole the love of my kindergarten life & I first uttered the words, “Girl’s suck”.
In fact, I think I was so convinced that girls were awful—for so so many more reasons than nearly stealing your kindergarten one true love, blowing out the birthday cake candles at your birthday, stretching out/shrinking your favorite t-shirts, lying, talking behind your back, etc.—for so long that I didn’t allow myself to have meaningful relationships with women because I was too freaked out at how bat shit insane they seemed. I kept close company with the greatest guys I could find—the ones who’d let you watch football with them and call them at two in the morning when you just wanted to talk about how you watched Scream at a sleepover and was too afraid to go to sleep because what if you were murdered? My best friends were predominantly males throughout the course of my life because I held such a strong stance against my fellow [wo]man, simply out of annoyance and misunderstanding.
Don’t get me wrong—I had girl friends. We’d have sleepovers and I’d get invited over to their houses for birthday parties, etc. But there were really only a few girls who I could call up and be like “Can we talk about how much this small town sucks and I hate being on my period, so wanna eat pizza and ice cream while watching Dawson’s Creek?!”. For those girls, I am forever grateful because, even though you didn’t know it at the time, you were definitely helping me figure out that, when everything is said and done at the end of the day, I am a girl’s girl through and through.
Even though I constantly told myself that I couldn’t relate to my effeminate peers and that I just wanted to have fun and for guys to like me because I was easy going, fun, athletic, and pretty, the women who have come in and out of my life helped me realize that I can be all of that and still not care about the silly things that girls constantly obsess over when we’re young, naive, and impressionable.
And listen, say what you want, but as a twenty-three year old serial dater, I feel as though I can safely say a few things about women now that I no longer have a chip on my shoulder:
- Women do not suck! At all. Women are amazing, strong, compassionate, smart, genuine, super funny and so so much more!
- No man will ever love you if you can’t learn to love your fellow woman (and yourself, duh), because there’s no man who wants to be with a woman who can’t respect her own damn species.
- As much as you think your best guy friend gets everything you’re going through—he really only understands about 25% of it. Your girlfriends are always going to understand what you’re going through, how you’re feeling, etc. And they’re going to be brutally honest with you (if you’ve picked the right gal pals)!
I’d like to think this first stretch of my twenties has been all about finding myself, figuring out what kind of men I do/don’t like, finding out who my true friends are, and realizing that it’s okay be boy crazy 100% and still have love for all of the ladies out there who are, really, just trying to figure out the same exact things at this point in the game.
To all the women who currently inhabit my life (and that I plan on keeping around for the rest of forever), thank you for showing me how to behave like a normal human being. That includes you, mom—I suppose I can forgive you for never giving me the sister I always wanted because I’ve got friends in all the right places who replace that want.
I’ll never give up being boy crazy, though. You can’t make me.
This blog was started almost six months ago in the hopes of being able to continuously write when I didn’t technically “have to” because of graduating college and becoming a so-called “adult”. But, I mean look how well that’s turned out. I honestly can’t remember the last time I sat down to post here! I can’t even think of the last time I sat down to write in my journal and that feels big and wrong and ugh why can’t I just turn off my brain and turn on my hands to write?
It’s funny how even when you have a million and one thoughts racing for first place/front of the line in your brain, you still can’t seem to put them into words. Do I want to talk about how my supposed best friend shit all over me? Do I want to talk about my job and how every day it’s a mixture of emotions (“am I doing okay? Maybe not. Maybe I am! Yes I’m doing okay!”, you know you know). Do I want to talk about how I miss my mom and all I really want to do is hug my brother and share an orange with my friend Brock? Not really, but I sure as shit want to write about all of that more than anything.
But I can’t. I can’t seem to turn the only thoughts I know into the words I never say, so I’m stepping outside of my comfort zone and forcing myself to write. Normally, I’d just tell myself that I’m going to write every day and if I don’t I don’t, but if I do–great! Why force it, ya know (which, might I add, tends to be my life motto w/ everything. “Why force finding a suitable boyfriend? It’ll happen!”, “Why force maintaining my caffiene addiction? It’ll maybe definitely not subside!”, etc.)? After this being the first thing I can honestly say I’ve “written” in the past…4-ish months (and ugh. I’ve drafted this about a million times because I just can’t seem to finish it) (sorry for all the parentheses), I need to force it–I need to. I need to! I’m going to. Okay. So let me tell you how I’m doing it.
I’m going to tackle NaNoWriMo for the first time ever and I can’t even begin to explain how petrified I am by this. I mean, I honestly cannot even fathom starting and finishing an entire novel in a month; it seems like a huge challenge–like..harder than trying to find a job in this economy almost (Okay, not really. Finding a job is obv, harder and now I’m getting off track so back to writing)! I think the most humorous thing is that their website says “READY TO WRITE A NOVEL?” Like, no. No I’m not ready. I’m really not, but I’m going to anyway, ya know? Because I need to just do something and zone out in it.
So, since i’m one thousand percent certain I cannot do this alone, I have recruited my dearest friend Katie. Together, we hope to write something that basically people can laugh at, and what’s funnier than bad dates/boyfriends/girlfriends/friends you’ve encountered, ya know? Life is funny! So we’re doing it. We start Nov. 1 and I kind of want to throw up just thinking about it. If you have any suggestions/comments/tips/tricks/submissions/stories you’d like to share or contribute so that I feel less barfy and more confident about this, please feel free to share them in the comments section or, ya know, drop me a line. That’d be splendid.
I feel like I need a Pepto now. This has been a blog post.
- It’s funny how you can care about someone so much for so long only to realize that maybe they’ve never been the person you thought they were. Actually, it’s not really funny at all; it’s sad and it stings like that first awful bug bite of the summer. If we’re taking it so far—let’s say it becomes an itch you can’t scratch and I don’t like not being able to scratch my itches because I can sometimes be impatient.
- That being said, I firmly believe that you almost never truly know someone like you think you do. Unless it’s your mom. You probably know your mom pretty well because she’s probably the best person in the world.
- So ps: I’m having a really hard time trusting people and that sucks because I usually like people! Let’s just act like this is a phase I’ll grow out of because this feels a lot like when I loved boy bands.
- I don’t get why people my age are so dead set on finding someone to spend the rest of their short lives with. I mean, I guess no one’s making me want to stop hanging out with my cats and my parents and Netflix and start hanging out with them basically, and for right now that is very okay.
- I think I like gray nail polish the most and that’s all I really have to say about that.
- Someone emailed me the other day and asked, “What have you written lately? Will you send me something I can read?” How do you tell a person the only semi-coherent sentences you’ve produced are the ones you let spill out naturally after you got woken up at four am by your cat sneezing in your face, so you woke up and wrote about how staring a dark ceiling for fifteen minutes listening to your watch tick and trying to contemplate if you had the energy to go wash the cat sneeze off of your face was all you really had? I guess what I’m trying to say is that my reply was, “No. Not lately.” and that made me really sad.
- What do I have to do to be able to eat Panera’s Mac & Cheese for the rest of my life without turning into a macaroni noodle or, you know, just getting fat.
- If someone has a job where all they do is read cover letters, do you think they actually enjoy their life as a whole? Because I hate writing them and every time I re-read them, I hate myself a little. What if someone just read your cover letter and decided they hated you? Bummer.
- Pumpkin spiced things are making their way back into my daily rotation, but I would also like people to recognize that Apple flavored/spiced things are a major part of fall and who the shit doesn’t love apple cider? Let’s be real here.
- I’ve been thinking a lot lately about where I was a year ago from just about every day this month, and I think I can successfully attribute that to the fact that I just turned a year older, so I have all of these ~feelings of getting older and whatnot (natch). But isn’t it so bizarre to think about the person you were 365 days ago? I was twenty two and in college and determined I was going to go to law school even though the thought of it made me want to throw up and dive into an anxiety attack face first.
- So I guess what I’m trying to say is that it’s amazing how a meer 365 calendar days can change a person and make them realize 1.) how fast time flies & 2.) how easily things change. Okay.
- I’ll be in Florida in 16 days and that’s very exciting.
- Lately, I’ve been thinking to myself, “What if I moved to New York City?” I feel like there are people who can handle it and people who can’t and I guess what I’m saying is I’m kind of worried I fall into the latter portion of that group, but really what if I moved to New York City? Because I’m applying to about a zillion jobs there and partially crossing my fingers that maybe something comes of it but lol who knows because this is me we’re talking about and let’s not act like things are ever easy over here.
- Tomato, tomahtoe.
Y’all, I’m so over summer. Seriously. I’m tired of falling asleep to the hum of my air conditioner, tired of only finding relief in the form of a shower, tired of my legs sticking to chairs and the seats in my car, tired of the heat, humidity, and overwhelming sun. Basically, I’m ready for a change. Fall, in my humble opinion, cannot get here fast enough!
At the end of every summer, I start to “force” my wardrobe in fall, so to speak. I start wearing jeans more than shorts, cardigans come back into rotation, and I banish the sandals to the back of my closet in lieue of Toms, Sperry’s, and Vans. This year, I’ve decided to do the exact same thing for my nails.
My nail polish for the summer revolved around pinks, yellows, purples, oranges, and whatever the plural for turquoise is. But this fall, in my eyes, it’s all about reds. Sure, there will probably be days when I opt for a matte black, a chocolate brown, or even a baby blush pink, because I’m just fucking diverse like that! But I always feel like the autumn months need a swift kick in the ass every now and then to remind them that, for as chill as they are, they still need a little extra oomph.
So, without further adieu, here’s my top 5 go-to reds for the fall/winter months ahead that are sure to have us begging for summer again in no time:
- Red Nouveau seems to be your typical fall back red—the one you can almost always count on to make you look like you know what you’re doing. Kind of like that shade of lipstick that you’re always too afraid to try because you don’t really have the skin tone for it and, goddammit, it’s on your teeth again.
- Turning Heads Red reminds me of something out of Mad Men and I guess mostly Christina Hendricks, because I can just imagine Joan Holloway telling that weirdo Peggy something sassy while pointing her perfectly manicured nail at her. You go, girl. Tell that girl how dumb she is for sexing Pete Campbell!! UGH.
- Well Red seems as classic and simple as that Sylvia Plath novel you read in college and swore you understood the meaning of right after you absorbed it, but let’s be honest, it took you re-reading it to actually get that, in the end, she was just depressed and a little crazy.
- Thigh High makes me think of how all I’m going to want to do is wear thigh high socks and this nail polish while I lounge in my underwear and watch Netflix with my cat! Sexy!
- Bold & Beautiful is what’s going to take me out of my thigh highs, pull me away from Netflix, feed my cats, and go out of my apartment to, you know, actually live my life. Hello, hint of purple! There’s absolutely nothing I don’t like about you.