On tantrums, touchdowns and Odell Beckham Jr. being my brother from another mother.

What do me, and a 5’11 wide receiver for the New York Giants have in common?

No, it’s not incredibly confusing hair or the natural athletic talent bestowed upon us straight from Jesus himself. But I truly thank you for thinking of me and Odell Beckham Jr. in that light. It’s flattering, really.

We both just aren’t having fun anymore.

Let me take a step back here. Two years ago I would have given my unborn child and all of my future stock in Taco Bell to be paid to write. It was all I wanted. The insatiable and unquenchable dream that loomed over me as I sat monotonously day after day at my shitty receptionist job.

Then, one day, it happened. Just like Odell Beckham Jr. on draft day. I got the call. I dropped everything. I made it. I was going to be an all-star wide receiver for the NFL with confusing, yet intimidating hair that everyone loved to hate a writer for an ad agency.

Like my doppelgänger and brotha from anotha motha, I had trained for this. Hours and hours of cranking out things to publish that made me proud. Some that bared my soul, some that made me, and only me, laugh. Others that just made my mom happy that I was doing something besides sitting in bed moping with a glass of wine at 10am.

(Breakfast wine is a thing. It’s called fermented grape juice. Read about it.)

When OBJ got drafted, I can assure with as much certainty as someone who wasn’t with him, that he was ecstatic. And when I got that call, I was too.

But the moment I accepted that job, I stopped writing for myself because I was now going to write for someone else, and that was a far more superior venture in my naive mind.

Two years and a treasure trove of words later, I’m confused.  I sit at a computer and ask my brain to do something day in and day out that it used to do on its own. Except I don’t get angry and throw a tantrum on the sideline, I wait until I get home and cry in the bathtub like a goddamn adult.

Also I’m a Pats fan so this whole meltdown is kind of funny. Cue the 18-1 jokes.

I’d wake up with funny thoughts about being an interesting sponsor choice for Head and Shoulders life or weird observations and I couldn’t wait to rush to my computer and jot them down.

Unfortunately, that rush is going away.

It’s a hard thing to realize that when you started to do what you love and love what you do, eventually you’ll stop loving it. Because work is work no matter how pretty you dress it up.

What I’m saying is, I get how Odell Beckham Jr. is feeling.

What happens when you’re not passionate about your passion?  What if the one thing that kept you sane during a monotonous 9-5 job turns out to be the very thing that makes your 9-5 so monotonous?

Two years ago my life changed. And here I sit, two years later, wondering if it was for the better or not. And I don’t know how to figure that out. Maybe it’s a change of scenery or a different way to jumpstart my brain. Maybe it’s finding out how to reignite that spark that fueled me, drove me and motivated me to get up and write every day.

Whatever the answer is, and whoever has it. Let me know. I’m all ears.

Also, if you have OBJ’s number, please let me know so I can call him and tell him to stop being such a big baby. Anyone who makes that much money is not allowed to be sad. It’s science.

Or maybe I’ll just become a professional dog walker. No one in the history of earth has ever fallen out of love with a dog.

Stand by.

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Will I Ever Love Anything As Much As My Boyfriend Loves Sports?

There are some relationships that are, for lack of a better term, enviable.

You know, the ones fueled by passion, commitment, humor and above all, trust. The ones that, at the end of the day, regardless of how much they fight, you know they’ll make up and be alright and continue to support each other.

This is how my boyfriend feels about sports.

Let’s just be clear, I definitely do not hate sports. I’ll sit and watch whatever ball is on television as long as there are a reasonable amount of snacks and alcohol in front of me.

wine-gif-blonde

But there’s something seeing someone constantly have another person on their mind, wondering what they’re doing, checking their status updates and talking to his friends about what they’re doing next.

Because he knows how important investing into a relationship is and he’s proud to show off those who he supports.

baseballyankeefans

You know, the way he just KNOWS everything about every single player on the field, can recite their college teams, even high schools, without even looking up to the left to recall the memory.

Because he cares about them that much to know that to truly appreciate someone, you have to know where they came from.

excited-nets-fan-nba-fans

I see the passion he has for his fantasy football team, caring deeply about their injuries, yelling at them incessantly for missing catchable balls, touchdowns, and field goal opportunities.

Because he honestly sees their potential and he knows they can do better.

openeyes

It doesn’t matter where he is financially, he’s ready to double down and spend money when he may not exactly have a lot of it. He’s committed to being there every step of the way, from making it to the small games all the way up to the biggest of stages.

Because he knows he can trust them to show him a good time, even if his expectations don’t always match his reality.

mad-buckeye-fan

To know what it’s like to hate someone so much, swear to never come back to them again, but your bond, your loyalty is so strong, that you’re right back on the couch the next day watching that same team that ruined your life the night before.

Because he’s loyal and he’ll be there through the ups and downs. No matter what.

bears-thumbs-down

 

Now, that’s love.

Do I ever think I’ll love something more than my boyfriend loves sports?

To be honest, I think the answer is no.


What do you think? Do boys love sports more than anything else?

I Just Realized, I’m Twenty-Five And My Life Is Over.

I think the best and worst moment of my life was when I realized I had turned into my parents.

Not the sixteen year old realization, though, that would be sad. Not that the twenty-five year old realization is that much more profound.

But there’s something about growing up; I mean, actually growing up that really just grows arms and slaps you in the face and lets you know that everything that happened before this moment was just a prelude to you being an internally old human being, destined to live in yoga pants, braless on your couch watching reruns of Friends thinking about all those “good days” without responsibility.

At sixteen, if I had realized I turned out to be my parents I would have done everything in my power to regain my youth and just mess shit up for the fun of it.  As a junior in high school, you never, under any circumstances, want to be your parents.

It’s like going to that party and realizing that the girl who was always “the mom” was there, and she was going to make sure you didn’t drink too much beer, fall asleep somewhere inappropriate, or raid too much of that host’s refrigerator, so when the actual parents came home, it just looked like the kid in charge got super hungry one night and binge ate all the deli meats.

The worst part about realizing that I’ve turned into my parents is the fact that I’ve followed the status quo – depending on what you believe in, of course – and have finally graduated from crazy, party, uncontrollable college girl into full blown quasi-housewife, happy and willing to anticipate the needs of my significant other far beyond my own.

And the stark contrast is that I’m borderline, if not over the fence okay about it.

It’s like I turned twenty-five and all the sudden my brain cells and neurons started triggering all this nonsense about me not being the most important person in the world, and that someone else’s needs matter far more than my own.  And holy shit, I haven’t even had a child yet so this post will change in about five years.

I digress.

The best part about turning into my parents is the fact that I am saving a boat load of money.  I mean, like, saving is totally the thing to do right now.  I am hoarding without intervention because no one seems to think I have a problem with the fact that money isn’t confetti and I don’t need to throw it around to prove that I have it.

And hormonally, at my age, some people know putting it in a bank is far more worthwhile than drinking four glasses of wine at some bar called “Taco” that doesn’t even serve mexican food.

Sidenote: Not that I don’t still drink wines at Taco and complain about the fact that they don’t serve Mexican food. I still do that. It’s god damn outrageous and the owners need to be quarantined and condemned to a lifetime of solely eating burritos.

The other great part is that I don’t think I’m hormonally imbalanced, although that is still up for debate, but there is something extremely and unfortunately true about the phases of life.

We all go through these stages, obviously at different paces considering the circumstances, but we all do.  Birth to teen being the nourishment, get what we need to survive stage.  Teen to young adult being the fake it ’til we make it stage. And then here, where I am, the holy shit I’ve made it, I’m an adult, paying my own way through life, figuring out who I am and what I’m going to do for the rest of it stage.

Whatever stage you’re in, you’re going to make it out alive. It might not be on your timeline, it might not be the way you want it, but you’ll make it.

Just look at your parents.  The entire time they were telling you what to do, where to be, what grades to get, and what goals to set, they knew that someday, down the line, whatever you were going through was a phase. Because they went through it too.

And when you take a step back and realize that, on a Friday night, you’d rather be home, pants off, braless on your couch watching reruns of Friends and remembering the “good old days,” then you’ll know that you’ve turned into your parents.

Life is funny that way.  Things always seem to come full circle.  The people you distrusted the most and hated being around now become the sole reason for your coming home.  At the end of the day, your parents are fucking awesome.

Because when they had you, they had to wait twenty-five years or more for that moment to come, and think of how goddamn grateful they are that you are just now realizing how much shit they had to put up with in order to get to this place.

And be thankful that you finally turned into your parents.


Have you turned into your parents? If not, are you scared?

The Unwritten Rules Of Being In A Relationship

The conditions under which my boyfriend and I moved in together were simple.  Cheaper rent, reduced travel, and ultimately, he would be the human barrier that would save me if anything remotely dangerous happened in the dead of the night.

Around 3:30 am last night, a fire drill went off in the midst of my deepest slumbers.  Unbeknownst to me, the jackasses who live on the floor above us engaged in a little snow storm marijuana toking session, and basically masked the entire top floor with a cloud of smoke.

The roommate looks at me after hearing how obnoxiously loud the fire alarm is and says, “Close the bedroom door.”

To which I replied, “Uhh, no, I think we need to evacuate.”

After frantically throwing on as many blizzard fighting layers of clothing and waiting outside for around twenty minutes, we were allowed back in the building.  But only now have I realized that my roommate was not delivering on one of the main promises made when we decided to cohabitate.  Something remotely dangerous happened in the middle of the night, and he was not being a good human barrier.

(I realize this is all based upon waking up mid-slumber, and under different circumstances, he probably would have had a clearer head.)

Which brings me to my next point.  Along with safety and security, there are certain unwritten rules that boyfriends have to follow.

All gender roles, feminism, sexism, and all that other politically correct mumbo jumbo aside, of course. I see you, strong, independent women who don’t need no man to feel worthy. #Respect

Here are the unwritten rules you need to follow in order to be a successful boyfriend/good human:

Hold my things: When you decide you are going to date a girl, you unofficially sign up to hold all her belongings when she doesn’t want to carry a purse.  Credit card, money, and ID will now go in your wallet and her keys in your pockets, because her outfit is way more important without a bulky bag, and you have like forty-six places to hold things anyways.

Let me wear your stuff: Clothes are always more comfortable when they’re not yours.  Sweatshirts that are four sizes too big definitely seem to fit better, and men’s sweatpants are what dreams are made of.  And hats.  Always hats.

Don’t get mad when I eat your food: I know this is like, totally, illegal in like fifteen countries, and frowned upon everywhere else, but if I want a bite of your food, you need to give it to me.  I know I ordered what I wanted, and you ordered what you wanted, but that’s why we didn’t order the same thing and I’d rather not have FOMO.

Listen to my stories: Everyone in the history of earth knows that women are horrendous story tellers.  But you’re going to have to listen to every single one of them.  The office drama, that kid on the subway, the one about how long the line was at Forever 21 on New Year’s Eve. They’re going to suck, they’re not going to be funny, and they probably won’t make sense.  And I’m sorry I’m not sorry for that.

Give me directions: I think I speak solely for myself with this one, but I’m going to generalize to everyone anyways.  You need to be prepared to tell me where I’m going and give me proper notice of when I’m supposed to turn left, right, etc.  Google maps can steer me wrong, you can’t.

Make good choices under pressure: Like, you know, if there’s a fire drill in the middle of the night.  You should tell me to get my shit together and haul ass down the stairs instead of just ignoring it and trying to fall back asleep.  It’s these life or death situations that make or break a relationship. Mostly because if we burned alive no one would be in the relationship anymore, because we’d both be dead.

Crack my back: What’s the point of having someone double your weight that can lift you up, crack your back, and realign your spine with one strong, upward grab? That’s not a trick question. There’s actually no other point than to have them lift you up, crack your back, and realign your spine with one, strong upward grab.


What are some unwritten rules you can think of?

http://weheartit.com/entry/158258235/via/Baka_Onii_chan_ga_suki

Things You Say To Your Significant Other That Make You Realize You’re Way Too Comfortable

http://weheartit.com/entry/158258235/via/Baka_Onii_chan_ga_suki

Amen.

I think the best part about dating someone is the moment you realize you’re totally comfortable in front of them.

Or when your only job on your day off is to make a pizza before he comes home from a long day at work, but you burn it within minutes of him walking through the door because you’re trying to defend yourself from an online bullying episode, but it’s okay because he loves you, yet is still really mad at you, and will huff and puff his way over to CVS to buy a new one to make himself.

Seriously, don’t underestimate the importance of a pizza after a long day of work, especially for the male species.  Cheese, sauce, bread, and the occasional topping is a diabolical combination that can pretty much cure anything from a bad day at work to civil unrest.

Anyways, the point of this is, you reach a time in your relationship where you become really comfortable with the other person; like, really, really, comfortable. This is so good. But this is also where the lines between appropriate and completely outrageous when taken out of context are also very, very blurry.

I have realized that I am  now in that very blurry, shadowy, gray area in my relationship where I don’t know if I should be concerned about the nature of my conversations, or if I just embrace it and fully accept that I’m so weird and another person has chosen to keep me around regardless.

I have also realized that I’m not that weird, because some of my friends have also confirmed that they’re too comfortable in their relationships, which is evident because of some of the things that they’ve revealed to me, in confidence, that they say within the privacy of their own homes.

But privacy is stupid and completely overrated; plus, it’s 2015 and everyone knows everyone’s business, so I’m going to post them on the internet.

Here are some things you might say that make you realize you’re way too comfortable with your significant other. If it sounds normal, it’s probably not.

“We can’t do that tonight, I have plans with my other girlfriend.”

(Note: If he really does have another girlfriend, you should probably be concerned he’s so open about it.)

“BOOBS.”

“Can I pluck that hair? Please.”

“Your mustache is coming in nicely.”

“Why is your face like that?”

“That shirt makes you look like you work at a barber shop. Can you cut my hair?”

“My favorite time to hang out with you is in the morning when you’re asleep and don’t speak.”

“It’s funny to see how your boobs handle gravity.”

“Do you own anything other than a red bathrobe?”

“You look like a waitress from Outback.”

“BUTTCHEEKS.”

“When was the last time you shaved?”

“Are you wearing your fat pants?”

“Okay, I’m going to fart in the closet.”

“I can grow more facial hair than you.”

“What inspired you to buy that shirt?”

“Your boobs are uneven.”

“You have beefy arms.”

“Why are your pants up so high?”

“Did you poop today?”

“We can’t have sex, you smell so bad.”

“Your breath smells like someone died inside of your mouth.”

“Don’t have coffee, you’re going to poopoo all over the house.”

“NIPPLES.”


Do you and your significant other get a little too weird? Let me know what you say in the comments!

Hey 2014, Thanks For All The Cramps.

Have you ever stayed in on a Friday night drinking wine and wondering what position you’d chose to pose in as a gargoyle for the rest of time?

If you have, why didn’t you call me? And if you haven’t, you clearly not only have friends, but way less time on your hands than I do.

What I realized while arbitrarily planning to cement myself in time, is that a lot of what I do revolves around me being comfortable.  Like, if I’m going to be plastered in a position for the rest of time, you best believe I will try to avoid cramping.

This is what I would look like if I was a gargoyle.

This is what I would look like if I was a gargoyle.

To prove my point, yesterday, I had my legs vertical to drain all the lactic acid out of my fat ankles while I was simultaneously trying to reach for my beer, and my roommate boyfriend captured the ultimate depiction of the laziest human being on the planet.

help.

help.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. Why didn’t he just help? And while that question still remains in my brain, and I will subsequently keep it for ammunition the next time he asks me to get something for him, by taking this picture of me struggling to achieve the impossible, yet really, really simple task of picking up a beer, he unknowingly captured the picture that represented the entire year of 2014.

2014 gave me cramps. 

No, I’m not talking about lady cramps, although, I’ll do almost anything to avoid those. I’ll steal a baby. Don’t tell me I won’t.

(For legal purposes, if your baby goes missing, it was not me. I still have cramps and that’s how you know I’m telling the truth)

I’m talking about metaphorical cramps. These are the things that remind us something needs to change in order to become the best possible version of yourself.  Sometimes they’re good reminders, like the soreness after a hard workout telling you that you did everything right.

But then there are the not so fun ones, like the headache after a hangover, constantly making you question whether or not you’ll drink again.

Hint: You will drink again.

2014 was mostly full of bad cramps that yielded good results, because change is not always easy; sometimes it’s hard, it sucks, and you hate it.  But that’s life, and it’s unexpected as hell.

There was that chip on your shoulder.

You know, that thing that happened a while ago that you can’t really get over.  Everyone can tell everyone else to stop holding grudges, but it’s never that easy when you’re the one who has to let go and move on.  Most times, it’s easier to stay mad at the person than confront the actual issue at hand.  I guess that’s why it’s a chip though.  Whoever it was, and whatever they did, they kind of ate away at you.

You may have been a pain in the ass.

Or maybe you had one.  Whichever it was, remember that no one likes a pain in the ass. If you have a pain in the ass you should get rid it. Immediately. The last thing you need after a hard day of work is to come home, sit down, and be constantly reminded that someone or something is still annoying the crap out of you.

Maybe you found out your Achilles heel. 

There is nothing, I mean nothing worse than figuring out what can hurt you the most.  But the good thing about finding it out, is that you can make strides towards preventing that from happening.  Surround yourself with people that will be beneficial to you in the long run, those who will support you and grow with you, rather than those who will hold you back.

You realized life is better without the headaches.

If you’re constantly on edge, stressed out, or unhappy, there’s something wrong.  Knowing what may literally be causing your headaches is one thing, but eliminating them can be an entirely different process.  I love coffee. So, so much. And when I don’t have it, I get a massive headache. Is the risk of eliminating coffee out of my life worth it? Not yet.  But if someone or something in your life is causing you way more stress than comfort, take a closer look, and maybe you’ll decide that eliminating them gives you a clearer head.

Sometimes you have to accept that cramps are part of life.

Just like lady cramps, people come and go.  There is never going to be a year where you won’t have to make sacrifices in order to improve your overall well being.  I mean, come on, taking birth control pills to prevent yourself from becoming a she-beast each month is proof enough.

But bumps in the road are par for the course.  People come in and out of our lives for different reasons at different times.  Not everyone is meant to be permanent.  That doesn’t mean the time spent with you was invaluable.  We can all learn something from someone else, we can all help each other become people that we want to be.  We just don’t all have to hold hands and walk each other to the finish line.

Because no friendship or relationship, regardless of how long or short, is insignificant.  Those people were brought into your life for a reason, and maybe they’re staying for a while, but maybe they’ve left this year.

But when you start to get a headache, become a pain in the ass, or develop a chip on your shoulder, put up your feet and get rid of the cramp right there.  It’s better to deal with problems head on than to be lazy and let them unnecessarily morph into something bigger.

And this is also where I need to take my own advice.


What are your New Year’s Resolutions? How did you make yourself better in 2014? Did you get any cramps this year? If so, which ones?

Some Friends Are For Life, Others Are Just For Now.

 

The hardest lesson we have to learn is that we won’t keep all the friendships we collect over the years.

But that also doesn’t make the friendships that fizzled out any less valuable. They may be gone, but they shouldn’t be forgotten.

At one point or another, you had a common bond, a need for each other, a desire to make one another better.  You had the power, the will, and the right stuff that just fit at that time period.

Just like you’ll rarely stay at the same job for your entire career, friends are not necessarily meant to be permanent.  There are stepping stones, building blocks, and guiding lights to get you where you need to be.

The reality – and maybe a cynical reality – is that friendships have battery lives; and while some are chargeable, some aren’t.  You just have to figure out which ones are which.

Lifelong friends are effortless, it’s like they have solar panels or something, they recharge themselves and are built for longevity. But friendships can also be built with a battery life; they’re great for the time being, but at the end of their lifespan, you move on.

But don’t discount them at all.  Because just like I am forever grateful for the solar paneled roof over my head, I’m also eternally stoked that I got to play with a tamagotchi for a year of my pre-pubescent life.

People come in and out of your life for a reason, whatever that is, it’s up to you to decide.  It could be to help heal the wounds of a breakup, get you out of your comfort zone, or introduce you to a new side of the city you’ve never seen before. But just like your tamagotchi when you were a child, after a while, the batteries died and you found yourself surrounded by something newer, and more appropriate for your age and lifestyle.

But don’t ever forget what that tamagotchi helped you accomplish. You may not consult those friends or nurture the relationship anymore, but you damn well better be thankful for the time, effort, and value that it gave to you for the duration of the lifetime.

Because it’s foolish to think that all the people you’ll meet throughout your lifetime will be there until the end.  As you grow up, you learn to keep a select few in your inner circle, and accept that others will come and go as you start a new job, move to a new city, and begin a new life.

You may collect some lifelong friends along the way, there’s no doubt about that, but there will always be a new season, a new hire at the office, and a new space to fill in your life.  So fill it.

We can learn, grow, and change so much just by meeting and getting to know other people.  So while you may not know if the girl or boy sitting next to you is going to be your friend in fifteen years, enjoy your current phase of life with the people who are in it.  If they make it through, great, it not, remember what they taught you. Remember how you grew up. Remember how you changed as a result of being friends with them.

And be thankful for that.

***

What do you think about ‘seasonal’ friendships? Have you ever had any? How have they helped you throughout the years?

Sweet Potato Fries Are Ruining My Relationship

If there’s one way to lose a man’s trust, it’s to be completely full of shit when you rate meals on a 1-10 scale. They take food very seriously.

I irresponsibly rated sweet potato fries an 8/10 on my first date with my boyfriend and it became a permanent stain on our relationship.  He claims he can’t trust me, that he doesn’t really know who I am or what I’m thinking.

I should have just gone with the onion rings.

What I learned from falsely embellishing the deliciousness of my side dish is that there are certain things you need to ask on the first date to make sure if this is someone you can be with long term.  I mistakenly judged the importance of food ratings and I have not been able to live it down since.

In order for you to avoid being plagued with ridicule when it comes to food for the remainder of your relationship and inevitably creating a rocky and unstable trust between you and your partner, I’ve compiled a list of questions you MUST ask on the first date to avoid irreparable damage later on.

Here are the questions you NEED to ask on a first date to determine if this is someone you can be with for a long time:

 

What kind of sports fan are you? For the most part, this question applies to the male species, but I’ll include those diehard females who rep it hard in the sports department. Knowing what kind of sports fan your partner is will be crucial for the rest of your relationship. Most men like a sport for each of the seasons, so you’re going to need to know if he’s going to lock you out of your apartment or rip a couch cushion if Dwyane Wade doesn’t hit 3 points or that guy in the NFL doesn’t get 1824396 carries and 2734061 yards in a random game that doesn’t really matter (It totally matters though, somehow).

What is your position on Christmas music? If you are one of those girls who starts playing Christmas music on December 26th to prepare for the next holiday season, you’re going to need to let your partner know that ahead of time.  Even if you’re a semi-normal human being who starts playing tasteful holiday tunes after Thanksgiving, you should respect the other person’s ears enough to let them know they should invest in earplugs for the next month and a half.

What do you rate Jennifer Aniston on a scale of 1-10?  This question can be tweaked based on the celebrity of your choosing, but Jenny Anz is a pretty well known celebrity that both men and women like. Once you’ve asked the question and both given answers, if your number differentiate by more than 2 points on a 1-10 scale, you may be in disagreement with what the 1-10 scale is.  This is not okay and will set a precedent for the future of rating questions.  You must find an agreeable medium and set forth a list of qualifications pertaining to each number on the scale. This is the only way you will be able to take each other’s opinions seriously when you ask questions like, “On a scale of 1-10 how good are these sweet potato fries?”

Are you able to commit to tacky/trendy/seasonal activities knowing full well it will interrupt your weekend/sports/day off plans? This applies mainly to women, but maybe some instances men will get the seasonal feels and want to go skate on a pond or chop down a tree for good measure.  If you’re not ready to commit to losing a couple hours on a Sunday to grab some apples off a tree or carve a smiley face on an orange gourd, you should just throw in the towel right now.

What are your thoughts on animals? Listen, I get it, some people don’t like animals. Whether it be an allergy, a bad experience, or just not being human, you need to find out if your lifelong dream of owning a farm of Great Danes is never going to come to fruition because you’re getting involved with the future bane of your existence.

Which side of the bed do you sleep on? There is nothing worse than having your first adult sleepover and both jumping in on the left side. Not only will it create an awkward rift when you lose because your boyfriend outweighs you by 100 lbs, it will most likely not work because sleeping is real life and you need that more than you need love. #HarshReality

Obviously, I encourage you to ask those awkward questions about wanting a family, politics, and religion, but if you want to get to the stuff that actually matters, take my advice.

Or don’t. I steered my boyfriend wrong when I rated the sweet potato fries, so I could be making things up entirely out of thin air.


What are the important questions you ask on a first date?

College Confessions: I Was Too Busy Watching Heavyweights Alone In My Dorm Room To Find A Boyfriend

One of my most embarrassing memorable nights in college was when I was alone on a Saturday night eating kettle corn and watching Heavyweights on my top bunk. After it was over, I was too lazy to get down to put it on my desk, so I gently dropped it onto my roommates bunk below, but missed and it shattered on the floor.

So no, I did not have a boyfriend in college.

The idea of finding your significant other in college is a nice thought. The reality of it is that you can’t just get a boyfriend or girlfriend. There are no stores that sell them.  If it was that easy, I’d be married to Charlie Hunnam right now.

As much as movies, television shows and romantic novels make it seem like love just falls out of the sky and hits you in the face with a football on a fall day, where you take one look at the culprit and you’re immediately bonded and connected over the embarrassment of it all, it’s simply not the case.  Finding a significant other takes time, effort, and frankly, money.  If you’re not willing to shell out those three things, it is going to be a long road.

I’m not saying that an initial attraction and a spontaneous injury is unlikely.  But I am.  Those stories are one in a million.  If you happen to be one of those pretty girls  perfectly dressed walking to class and that beautiful guy catches you as you clumsily fall, I’m happy for you, you’re a living, breathing fairy tale.

But for many people navigating through college, finding a significant other on top of studying, passing classes, maintaining a social life, and figuring out how to deal with college loans, unfortunately falls to the back of the line when it comes to priorities.

Not to be offensive, but if finding a significant other in college is your priority, you may want to rethink the idea of wasting thousands of dollars a year to find love when you can just pay a monthly fee at Match.com.  There are plenty of cheaper alternatives for finding a date than tuition that costs an arm and a leg.  You’ll be paying off your loans until you’re at least thirty, and that guy or girl you skipped so many classes to hang out with, well they may or may not be along for that financially depressing ride.

Again, this is not saying that finding your perfect mate with a common interest in political sociology at 8am isn’t real life, but passing that class and graduating on time may actually get you a job at a law firm, and think about the pool of applicants you’ll have to choose from then.

For a lot of people in college, getting through a string of ridiculously difficult classes in an extremely demanding major is a priority. And rightfully so. You should never, ever feel bad for focusing on a career instead of a boyfriend. Personal growth and happiness far outweighs the benefits of having someone to go to a dance with, although that is severely underrated when you don’t have someone to go to a dance with.

But for reals, use these four formative years to work on yourself and figure out what YOU want to do.

College is an amalgam of human beings with diverse interests – so it’s not unlikely that you’ll find someone you connect with.  Whether or not that person or people end up becoming a romantic involvement is up for debate.  There are plenty of people, myself included, who had a blasty blast in college without dating someone.  Flings and hookups and platonic relationships are all beneficial to personal development.  So if it’s not a full blown serious affair, don’t worry about it, you’ve got the rest of your life to be serious, have fun for once.

The good news about not having it be an official relationship is that you have the excuse of that thing you’re really there for, school.

It’s hard not to compare yourself with others, but know that if it doesn’t happen for you like it does for your friends, you’re not going to die alone.  It all ends up being a timing issue. Those four years that your friend focused on boys allowed you to excel at school and land a badass job that you’ve always wanted.  It allowed you to empower yourself and find out what makes YOU tick.

Plus, late bloomers are totally in because everyone loves a good looking human being with a head on her shoulders who has a job, a degree, and a direction in life.

Don’t worry about what other people are doing.  Don’t worry about graduating and not locking someone down for the rest of your life.  All good things come to those who wait.  Timing is everything.

You never know. You may end up dating the kid you had a crush on in fifth grade fifteen years later. So those four years weren’t a total waste because you were more focused on passing classes instead of passing notes.


Did/Do you have a relationship in college? Did it work out?  What do you miss about college?

No, You Can’t Bring Your Life Size LeBron James Poster Into The Apartment.

My boyfriend and I recently decided to take the step towards cohabitation.

You know, living together. Under the same roof. Sharing a bathroom. Letting him have access to my Netflix queue. And mostly, trying not to fight about whose turn it was to eat the leftover burrito from Chipotle.

So with great decisions, comes great responsibility: like figuring out what will and will not make the journey from our separate living quarters into the one we will share.

All the sudden, I’m having flashbacks to kindergarten, my teacher preaching from the pulpit sermons of compromise and open communication.  I’m begrudgingly trying to set aside my dreams of having my apartment look like a floor model from Home Goods, slowly realizing that this step is something that needs to be taken together, bringing in elements and pieces from our pasts in order to build our future.

But that doesn’t mean there is going to be putting a nine-foot tall cardboard cut-out of LeBron James in my entryway. Not on my watch.

And in an effort to not totally deter all men from moving in with women because they won’t allow sports trinkets to sneak into their boxes, I’ve realized there’s a list of things girls probably should avoid if they want to make this transition a happy, healthy, and lasting one.

When living with your significant other, keep these things in mind:

The bathroom is a sacred place and he’s going to be in there a lot.  While girls tend to get a bad reputation for taking too long to get ready, boys have a tendency to spend the better part of a year in the bathroom with no consequences attached.

Make sure your bathroom is neat, organized, and promotes healthy cleaning habits.  With that being said, it’s probably a good idea not to have the main bathroom decoration be a collection of tampons of varying shapes and sizes.

Along the same lines, having a calendar is a good way to keep track of when you and your significant other will be in and out of the city.  You can each have a color marker and a corresponding color-coded key.  You’ll have so much fun adding all the different appointments you both have throughout the month if you have OCD, like me, or are just a twenty-five year old who still appreciates coloring.

This calendar, however, would not be an ideal place to mark when your Time of the Month is taking place with big, red X’s along with a corresponding color-coded key that says they mean you probably won’t have sex that week.

Decorating is the shit. I mean, girls practically pee their pants at the thought of bringing in new patterns, textures and colors to their living rooms. Moving into a place with your boyfriend pretty much signifies you’ve almost entered adulthood, so you’ll want your new place to look sophisticated as hell.

Decorative pillows are a fun way to infuse color into a room without going overboard.  These decorative pillows should not be in the form of stuffed animals that were given to you by ex-boyfriends on past Valentine’s Days.

Chandeliers are classy.  But chandeliers solely consisting of old Beyonce cds and candles you used for that seance at a sleepover when you were seventeen are not a way to signify you’re a high class broad.

Physically living with your boyfriend means you don’t have to have pictures of you and him together littering your apartment.  This does not mean you should have pictures of your exes around your apartment in frames labeled “Memories” and “Good Times.”

Coffee tables are a great place to establish yourself as a cultured, well-read human being.  Avoid having Cosmopolitan be the only magazine allowed in the apartment.

Above all, respect each other. That’s like important, I think.


Do you have any tips for moving in with a significant other?