Monthly Archives: May 2014

Getting Cray Making Alcoholic Gummies

28 Wednesday May 2014

Posted by in Single in New York

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My roommate and lovechild, JT, — who is actually named Jonathan–which I may as well tell you since he for sure blows his name up 154 times during this video– has an awesome YouTube channel where he acts a fool and does ridiculous things like “The Baby Food Challenge.”

For Memorial Day, to honor our troops, we made an instructional video on how to make alcoholic gummie things. And proceeded to get heavily intoxicated in the process. Enjoy!

The 6 Reasons Why I Deleted My Tinder

23 Friday May 2014

Posted by in Single in New York

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Tinder is the dating app of our generation (right now). With the search for new jobs, new lives, new apartments (unless you’re living at home, –that sucks), and new mates, it’s too hard to meet people out at bars and at other social events like our parents did. It’s easy. It’s fast. And it cuts out the complications of conventional boyfriend/girlfriend (hook-ups?) hunting. But the truth is, Tinder is an endless stream of fuggos and assholes. I’ve had nothing but bad dates. Seemingly nice men, inevitably reveal themselves to be the most colossal of dickholes and megalomaniacs. From the Chubby Scotsman to Rusty the Construction Worker, Tinder has been nothing but a hindrance to my life and my emotional well-being. But you know what? I’m not writing off all dating apps. Maybe I’ll find one that works, but Tinder is just not for me. So, these are 6 reasons why I deleted my Tinder.

 

  1. Every guy is a liar
    From height exaggeration to weight underestimation, it happens every single time. 5’5 is not 6’3, fellas. Also, when you post pictures at your most flattering angles, you’re just f*cking lying. When I meet you in person, guess what? All of those lies go out the window. Your fatness and shortness are no longer tricking me into thinking you’re some sexy, awesome total package. So, yes, I’ll let you buy me dinner. But, you’re already a liar, and so, you’re doomed. We’re going nowhere.

 

  1. Tinder is like the homeland of the ugly
    I feel like I’m getting carpel tunnel from swiping left. For every 150 guys I probably give a “good sport” right swipe for about 15. I don’t mean to be shallow, for real, but there’s nothing that kills my dating spirit like concrete proof that New York has a truly heinous straight male population. That sh*t is discouraging.

 

  1. Continuous tragic failures
    Cue my previous stories of Rusty the Construction Worker and The Chubby Scotsman. Sure, they got laid and yes, I’ll give them street cred for providing amazing material for this blog, but what a terrible list of failures that goes on and on. Is Tinder the secret oasis for assholes? Because it would seem so.

 

  1. I hate straight men so much of the time it scares me
    Dear straight guys, you are a woman’s curse. We have to deal with you. You need to stop thinking that just because you have money and are somewhat okay looking that you can treat hot women like sh*t. That is not cute and I’m not having it anymore.

 

  1. Dating makes me tired.
    I like all the free food, sure, but dating is so exhausting. I get tired even planning a date. Where are we going? Where are we meeting? I don’t know, what do you wanna do? Kill me. I don’t even know what this person is like in real life. Between my full time job, this blog, freelancing, and wine obsession, I don’t really have the energy to date. I come home exhausted and disappointed every night to my lonely Upper West Side apartment (probably with a tall-boy in hand to ease the pain of yet another failure). What’s the point of dealing with this nonsense when I have amazing friends, family, and Bob’s Burgers on Netflix?

 

  1. I have to pretend to be someone I’m not
    What is it about first dates? Why do I always act like some different, more together version of myself? Why do I have to flirt and make stupid ass jokes that you’re too dull to comprehend anyway? Frankly, it’s degrading. Boys, I’m a mess and you’re a d-bag. I don’t want to deal with your crap and you don’t want to deal with the strong, ridiculous, complicated woman I am? Well, bye then. Ain’t nobody got time for that. Basic.

Anyway, I deleted my Tinder. And I highly recommend everyone do the same.

11 Things Every Girl Should Have in Her Life Before Looking for Mr. Right

20 Tuesday May 2014

Posted by in Single in New York, This Thing Called Love

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When do you know you’re ready to settle down with someone and get serious?

Often when we go into relationships, we Gen-Y folk don’t have our sh*t together — actually most of the time, we don’t have our sh*t together, but I guess that’s what post-grad life is all about.

We’re looking for jobs, trying to find apartments and meeting a million new people every day. There’s a lot going on, and that’s okay. That’s being in your 20s.

You know, maybe sometimes we jump into relationships with a reckless abandon because it’s easy and that’s one fewer thing to think about while we’re struggling to pay student loans and living on a diet of Ramen and tap water. But, if we do this, how much time do we actually have to nurture that relationship?

It’s important to have a sense of stability in your life and your newfound adult identity before you can let someone join that life.

If you want it to last and be as fulfilling as it can be, your relationship has to be bred in a good environment. Here are 11 things you should have in your life before looking for a serious relationship.

1. When You Know Your Self-Worth

It’s been said many times before, but I’m saying it again because it can’t be reiterated and shoved down your throat enough: You can’t love someone else until you learn to love yourself. Having a man in your life shouldn’t be the thing that makes you happy. You are what should make you happy.

You, in all your fabulous shoes and sparkling personality glory. So many marriages and relationships end — and often badly, bloodily, with scarcely a survivor.

In the end, you really only have yourself. Always love yourself the most — even if it’s just by a little. Rely on yourself. Know what you want and deserve out of life.

Your relationship with yourself is going to be the one that lasts the longest. You’re stuck with you forever. Learn to appreciate the person you are, and all of the beautiful things you have to offer to the world.

And once you do that, if someone comes along who loves you as much as you love yourself, well, in the words of Carrie Bradshaw, “That’s just fabulous.”

2. When You Have Enough (Clean) Towels for Two

Part of becoming an adult means being able to take on certain self-sufficient responsibilities. This includes doing your laundry. If you’re ready to have a (or The) serious relationship, you can bet your life that there are going to be a lot of sleepovers involved.

Nothing is less cute than having to tell your boyfriend that he’s going to need to reuse your scummy towel because you couldn’t be bothered to wash your clothes.

It may be a small thing, but it definitely contains some serious merit. Taking control of even the smallest aspects of your life is a big sign that you’re a grounded individual.

3. When You’ve Found Your Ride-or-Die Friends

Having an established group of friends is essential before you can be ready to give your heart to another person.

I’m not talking about some big group of homies you send the same mass-text to when you’re looking for encouragement on a Tinder date with some rando, I’m talking about your fight-tooth-and-nail, willing-to-take-a-bullet-for, ride-or-die friends.

I’ve had many friendships end, many I thought would last a lifetime — and when I had to say goodbye to them, I was left broken-hearted. But I’m starting to understand who I am now, and I’m beginning to grasp the idea that not everyone is meant to be in your life forever.

Over time, it begins to become clear who are the “lifers.” The ones who are going to stick it out with you until the end.

And when you find those people, and you develop that net of support — that’s when you can let yourself be emotionally open — because you know that no matter what, those few, strong, fantastic people are always going to be on your team.

4. When You’re Done with Drunken Makeouts

Okay, your twenties are about experimentation, $3 wine from T Joe’s and starting your career — whatever that career may be.

It’s completely fine to live your life, go out with your friends and make out with complete strangers in shabby dives. You’re young. If you’re going to be a drunken troll, now is the time to do it. Because these are the years we never have to apologize for.

The only thing you’d ever have to be sorry about is if you didn’t live life to the fullest and didn’t take those chances, let your hair down and be a wild child.

It’s when you’re ready to put those times away, and stop making out with (erm — sleeping with?) strangers that you know you’re ready for something serious. I’m not saying that once you decide you’re ready for monogamy that you have to be an old hag and stay in night after night.

What I mean is that you no longer have the desire to go out, be a hot mess and lip lock with some loser you’ll give a fake number to and run away from at the end of the night.

It’s when you’re ready to find a person to spend that time with, to be there with you and your friends. Or, to just stay in and watch Netflix. It’s when you’re ready to put those stranger-danger hookups to bed that you’ll be ready to share your real bed with someone worth the time.

5. You Have to Be Over the Ex

It’s hard to say when it happens. I mean when it really happens. When you can truly say that you’re finished with your last relationship. It’s easy to say, “Oh, honey, I am DONE.” But do you mean it? When he texts, are you still responding? When he likes your sh*t on Facebook, are you still so about it? It’s okay not to be over it. We’re girls.

Our relationships with men are complicated… to say the least. You know you’re ready to really move on and commit to someone else when you can say, “Hey, I don’t want no scrubs” — and really mean it. “Ex” is in front of boyfriend for a reason. You may have to tell yourself why over and over and over… but he’s an “ex” for a reason.

When you’re done, and I mean really done (like cake in the oven done), you know you’re ready for the next great thing — intermediate hookups aside, of course.

6. When You Get a Dog… or a Plant

Once you’re able to be responsible enough to care for something other than yourself, you can maybe start to think about taking on the responsibility of caring for someone’s heart and emotional wellbeing.

I’m not responsible enough to have a dog, how on earth am I supposed to be expected to be responsible enough to have a boyfriend? I am, however, the proud mother of a basil plant named Ernest… well, I was until I drowned him by over-watering. Is it possible to kill something because you love it too much?!? RIP, Ernest, RIP.

7. When You Forget the Fairy Tale

Many of us have grown up thinking that we’re going to just suddenly meet the man of our dreams, know instantly that’s he’s the one and be swept off our feet. That’s just not how love works. Every man you meet is going to have flaws. There is no perfect, infallible person out there.

It’s not to say that the right guy isn’t out there because I’m sure he is, but he probably isn’t going to be some handsome prince and your relationship isn’t going to be perfect.

Stop trying to live in a fantasyland and start deciding what real, human qualities you want in a partner. Unless you can bring yourself down to earth, you’re going to end up unsatisfied.

8. When You Finally Have a Separate Piece of Furniture to Store Your Booze

When you’ve finally gotten a bar for your apartment (NOT from Ikea!) — you can start to accept your blossoming maturity.

When you aren’t keeping your Jack Daniel’s next to your salt shaker, and when you have purchased special glasses designated for alcoholic beverages (aka you’re no longer drinking vodka out of a mug that says “YOLO”).

Once you can say you’ve gotten your life together to the point you can invite someone over for a proper nightcap — that’s when you can start considering the future of your love life.

9. When You Desire an Equal

Forget Cinderella, think Mulan. You shouldn’t want your relationship to be with some guy who has to come and find you — come and save you.

Li Sheng fought for Mulan and she came fighting right back. I want a man who is willing to go to the ends of the earth for me and whom I’m willing to do the same for — not some asshat who sends his servant to stick a slipper on my lady-foot that’ll probably shatter the second I try to walk.

I am a fighter, not a damsel. We are women and we are strong. You need to come to understand enough about yourself and your personhood to desire an equal, a partner in love and in life.

You’re ready for the right guy to come along only when you’re ready to put the work in, hard, every day. You’re ready when you’re prepared to build a bond out of love and sacrifice.

10. When You Can Rely on Yourself for Money

There is nothing more satisfying than working hard to get what you want — to know that every single thing in your life you won for yourself — there is nothing sweeter than that.

Being handed everything isn’t going to serve you and it certainly isn’t going to make you the strong, independent person you want to be. Before you start looking for Mr. Right, try making yourself Miss Moneybags (or at least Miss Financiallystable).

Work towards your dreams and goals. Get to where you want to be in your career, and as a person. It’s true, sometimes the right person comes along, unexpectedly, and since you’re right for each other, you get the support you need to achieve your goals, regardless of your relationship status. But you shouldn’t expect that to happen.

And you shouldn’t wait around for a daddy with an Amex. Focus on yourself first, before focusing on someone else. If you rely on a man for money — the power structure shifts and you’re no longer the one who completely controls your life.

You should be able to pay your own student loans, your own bills, for your own groceries. You’re ready to invite a guy to come and enrich your life when you know that, without him, you canenrich your own. (See what I did there?)

11. (You Know You’ve Found the One) When You’re Willing to Put His Needs Above Yours

When you’ve found The One, “I” doesn’t exist anymore, only “we.” When you’ve found The One, “me” doesn’t hold precedence anymore, only “we.” Not to diminish what I said in #1, it really is necessary to always love yourself the most (even if it’s by only a slight margin).

What I mean to say is that when everything isn’t about you anymore, when you’re willing to consider the needs and wants of this other person above your own, then that is when you can believe that you’ve truly found the person you’re meant to be with.

The key is being able to have enough self-worth, enough clean towels, enough love and enough dignity to know — and insist — that the person you end up with is truly the person you deserve to be with.

That he isn’t someone you’re with because you’re lonely or sad or just plain old sick and tired of being single — but a person who makes you a better you, a person who makes you a better version of the you that you took the precious time to fall in love with in the first place.

Originally Posted on Elite Daily 

Free At Last

16 Friday May 2014

Posted by in The New Chapter

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There’s nothing like the feeling of freedom. Real freedom. No more school. No more grades. No more intense workloads that are (nearly) impossible to manage.

I have a new look on life. It’s time to put everything I have, everything I am into my job and my adult life. Everything is in my hands now. Nothing is left to academic papers, tests and, useless stress. Tomorrow I am walking up to the podium, receiving my diploma, and officially moving on with my life. This is a new phase, a new chapter. And, while I am a bit sad to leave the past behind, it’s a past that needs to be one for the archives. I love my job, I adore my friends, and I’m ready to move on into the world of being a grown up.

I’ve learned a lot about myself over the years. I’m happy with who I am, flaws and all. It’s nice to be able to say that. I’m ready to see what comes next. Bring it on, world, I’m ready.

The Swan Song of The Chubby Scotsman That Nobody Wanted

12 Monday May 2014

Posted by in Single in New York, This Thing Called Love

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So, in a recent post I talked about the importance of knowing that you can’t read a man’s mind and you have to actually say what you’re thinking. In that post I used the example of a “British” guy I was seeing. I said he was British because I just didn’t want to blow up his spot. I really don’t care anymore so he’s actually Scottish and actually an enormous scumbag.

We went on a few more dates and things were going alright for a while. I always went to SoHo to see him. Which became exhausting and annoying since I live on the Upper West Side and I despise taking two trains anywhere. Especially drunk, which he always got me every single time I saw him.

It was more then that, of course, that made me lose interest in him. He would think it was okay to sleep with me, not call me all week, and then ask me what I was doing over the weekend on Thursday or Friday. What am I doing? Well, considering it’s the end of the week, I’m going out with these people Friday, having brunch with these people on Saturday, and then doing homework on Sunday. Then he would get all butt hurt like I did something wrong because I already had plans. How am I supposed to know that you want to make plans with me if I don’t hear from you all week? Am I a mind reader now? Hm, I don’t think so.

So, in an effort to salvage the situation, and to better communicate, I flat out told him that this behavior was really not working for me. He agreed that he should call me more and also said I should call too… I don’t know how they do it in Scotland but if you have sex with a girl, you call her first. That’s just polite.

So, we hung out again. I actually liked him even though his laugh was horrid to listen to and he was—um—he was a healthy boy. He was polite and charming and I had fun with him. After a night in (bed), I got up, got dressed, and left. For some reason I just felt strange. I knew the feeling. It was the feeling you get when you know you’re not going to see someone again. A sort of sad goodbye, but nothing has happened to trigger it, you just know. I saw him there, ironing his suit pants and I was icily aware that this was the final time I would ever see his face.

The whole week goes by. Guess who hits me on Thursday night to see if we can hang out over the weekend? Yeah, the chubby Scotsman. I just wasn’t having it. I blew him off saying I had plans. He tried to hang out with me a few times and then, eventually, it became evident that he had flown to the island of lost men, never to return.

Or so I thought. This Saturday, on a lovely roof of a chic restaurant in the West Village, sitting with three of my most favorite people, PW, SG, and Dandelion, I received a text message from the chubby Scotsman: Happy weekend!

I wasn’t totally shocked that he was texting me, mimosa buzz I guess, but I was kind of annoyed. Who do you think you are, little chubby man? I haven’t spoken to you in over two months, why are you trying this again? So, promptly ignored the message and went on with my brunching. And then, like a truly foolish man, he texted me again, asking how I am and saying it had been a while since we chatted. Oh, had it? Only two months. Suddenly, buzzed and actually kind of angry at this point, I decided to pull a Rusty the Construction Worker and hand it to his bitch ass. I had no problem going there. I love a good excuse to put someone in their place. So, I asked him if he was midday booty calling me and that I wasn’t into that and told him to stop texting me k thx.

Did he stop? No. Fool. He wanted an explanation. Why did I not want to hear from him anymore? This seemed like such shocking news. We aren’t friends or lovers, idiot. I’m not into this bullshit anymore. I just kept pleading with him to just give up and said I’d lost interest and HE JUST KEPT GOING and GOING. Seriously, it was actually pathetic, and I (almost) felt bad for him. But, then again, fuck him. So, I straight up told him to stay away from women until he was ready to be a boyfriend and not screw people over.

And that’s when shit got REAL REAL.

He informed me that he actually already had a girlfriend, and that’s why he had suggested taking me to coffee. Excuse me? You just trolled me, begging me to see you and now you drop this deuce on me? So, I decided to take the high road. Just kidding. I responded with an ever so sweet: “wow. You’re so loyal. Sucks to be her.” And honestly, it does suck to be her. And it sucks to be a woman in general sometimes. Why do we constantly have to deal with these LOSERS who treat us like complete garbage? I’m so over it, and I’m so over these overweight, balding, morons who think they can get hot women. They’re so arrogant and pathetic. Single and proud. FOREVER. No more chubby losers for this girl. I’d rather have my amazing gays and girls who are always there for me then have to birth the children of some unappreciative douche lord. Peace.

I’m Gonna Be There

05 Monday May 2014

Posted by in The New Chapter

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According to many of my friends, they either don’t have a close relationship with their Godparents, or they don’t even have them all. My extremely close relationship with my God Mother seems to be rare, and I can understand why: because (and I say this with complete conviction) no one on earth can rival my God Mother.

When my mother, father, and Zaza (that’s what we call her)—found out that my mother was pregnant with a girl, they all screamed for joy. My mother had been desperate to have a daughter. But so was my God Mother, and unfortunately for her she’d never get to have one—a bad marriages and two teenage boys put that dream to rest. My mother made a solemn vow that day. She promised to share me with Zaza, she told her that while I was her daughter first, I would be the daughter my dear aunt never had the chance to have.

Zaza has been my second mother for my entire life. I’ve been lucky enough to be blessed with a wonderful mother, father, and Zaza. I’m a girl who grew up with two parents. Zaza always lived with us. When I was very little we would have “magic baths,” where Zaza turned on the inexplicable red light in her bathroom, have a bath and sing torch songs. Those are some of my favorite memories. We’d sing “Someone to Watch Over Me” and “When I Fall in Love.” Zaza had, and still has, the most beautiful voice in the entire world.

When we moved to Maui, Zaza of course came along. She fell in love with Michael—my surrogate God Father—and he came along too. As I grew older, we only grew closer. Zaza is a real no non-sense; get your shit together, kind of woman. She’s a blonde now but that natural red head spirit was what made our home fill with life. She was my greatest confidant. In high school, I was always up to no good. I could tell her anything and I knew she wouldn’t tell my mom. When I lost my virginity, when my best friend Bumble and I stole her parents vodka, when I tried to steal the car—she knew and she gave me guidance but she never betrayed my trust.

We had a special relationship that existed outside the realm of Aunt and Niece. She was a mother, a friend, a protector, a savior, and a secret lockbox.

She and my mother ran the house in tandem. Everyone got everything they needed for school, got all of their homework finished. We always had dinner late because that’s the way the Europeans did it, Zaza would say. My mother’s health has always been poor. She’s had lupus and arthritis since she was a teenager. That’s why she and Zaza were so close. Zaza took care of my mom and took care of us like we were her own children. She never asked for thanks or praise, simply did everything she could to make sure everyone was happy and healthy with quiet grace.

When I was getting ready to leave for college in New York, my family moved back to Chicago. That was when things really changed. Zaza didn’t come with us this time. She stayed behind with her husband, Michael. His health had weakened over the years and though Zaza rarely showed it, hers’ had as well. They decided to stay in Maui, where they had excellent health benefits, the warm sun, and the endless stretches of white sand beaches that I still miss to this day. But I miss something more, I miss my Zaza.

I think the power a God Mother can have on a young girl’s life is grossly underestimated. Sure, we say, “Will you be the God Mother” when we have kids and they come to the Christening, but nothing rarely comes of it. I think this shouldn’t be the case. If you’re going to be someone’s God Mother, and agree to what it entails—you better step up. If involved enough, a God Mother can be an essential guiding force in a woman’s life. She has the power to shape a child like a second mother—to imbibe them with her spirit, her beliefs, and her life lessons. The responsibility that a God Mother truly has, by definition, is undervalued. Consider the responsibility you are actually agreeing to: you’re agreeing to guide a child’s soul and nurture their spiritual well being. That’s some serious shit. And so many people take it for granted. I’m so lucky to have had Zaza, who spent every waking moment considering my happiness and my needs—completely putting her own behind mine. Her selflessness is like no person I have ever met. She has made me the person I am today. Not to knock my parents, they are truly wonderful, but there is something special in the fabric of my relationship with Zaza.

Even though we live far apart we still speak to each other often. Every time we talk it’s for hours and hours. She wants to know everything—who I’m dating, how all my friends are—she remembers their names and details about them even though she’s never met them. I definitely get busy sometimes and neglect her sometimes. She understands, I have school and work but I feel guilty about it.

Zaza’s husband, Michael died unexpectedly a few days ago. I woke up to a series of frantic texts and voicemails from my mother. Zaza was married three times, but when she met Michael—well, I’d never seen her light up in quite that special way. They looked at each other like my parents looked at each other—amazed and almost a little shyly—a little like they were still in disbelief that they could ever be so lucky. Michael had also been very important to me as well. He was the God Father I never had and he loved me to the moon and back. I adored him because he was good to my Zaza and he was good to me.

And now, suddenly, he was gone. It’s astonishing to me how a person can be there one day and then be gone the next moment without any warning. I wish I had gotten to say goodbye, gotten one more bear hug in, but most of all I am heart broken for Zaza.

After I cried my heart out and Zaza cried her heart out, on the phone, a million miles away, long into the night, I fell into a deep, exhausted sleep. When I woke up something truly revolutionary dawned on me.

As adults, we’re getting to a place where we don’t need to be comforted anymore and, more importantly, we’re in a place where we can comfort others—where we can provide emotional support.

I am a grown woman now. I don’t need to be taken care of anymore. Zaza made me strong enough that I have what it takes to really be there for her now, when she is not able to be strong for herself. To carry her through her grief and safely to shore. She’s always been there for me, loving me, nurturing me, grooming me to become a fiercely independent, emotionally well-rounded woman. She needs me now. And, even though I’m far away, I’m there.

Originally posted on Elite Daily