Contact

this week’s column can be found here. this particular one was very emotional for me to write. adding the picture of my dream ring nearly threw me into a prozac seeking fit. be gentle.

when i’m depressed i let my dog sleep on my bed.
i can’t break the diet coke habit, no matter how hard i try. sometimes i drink one with a vitamin and consider it breakfast.
i think my legs are too fat.
i have a weakness for shoes, they live in a giant pile at the bottom of my closet. i always say i’m going to get a shoe organizer, but i never do.
i like to be earth friendly, but i use paper bowls sometimes because i hate doing dishes.
i do yoga almost every day and count it as exercise.
i stress out every single day over what to wear.
i hate most of my clothing and wish i had a better sense of fashion.
i hate that kate spade discourages light pink because it’s cute and she hates cute.
i like to make fun of things, but hate being called judgemental.
i’m nervous to sleep with new people.
if i could, i’d wear my pink ‘roos every single day, even with dresses.
i hate my hair, but am afraid if i cut it shorter or change the color i won’t be pretty.
sometimes i look in the mirror and think i’m pretty, other times i think i’m too ugly to leave the house.
whatever i wear to bed has to match, even though no one is going to see me.
i’m addicted to lip balm.
i make lists for everything, but usually forget them.
i think god and my mother are confused about the year i was born. i certainly don’t feel 31.

that’s right, i’m totally and madly in love with my new phone. remember when i said i’d never own a blackberry? i lied. it’s just like tivo, i can’t imagine life without it.

the pearl is just as pretty as i had hoped, not to mention it does everything. if there were a legal way to marry it i would! it’s the best gadget i’ve ever owned, beating the eager beaver back massager i got as a birthday gift a couple years ago. it slept on the pillow next to mine last night–we’re deep into a relationship, so i felt it only appropriate. truthfully, i like it better than a lot of men who’ve ended up sleeping on that pillow.

i’m sure i’ll receive a call from my mother asking how i expect to snag a husband when i announce in public forum that i’d rather marry my phone.

i forgot to mention something very important about ben’s workplace. in the employee bathroom you can get a drink from the machine while you’re on the toilet. it’s a boy’s paradise!

since ben’s suffered enough blog humiliation i made one of his cashier’s demonstrate, and because i already get enough weird email i insisted he keep his pants on. you’re welcome.

slcup and i went to see volver friday night at the broadway. i noticed the women in front of us reading my column and made slcup take a picture of it. in that one moment all the issues with work and blogging faded away. it’s worth it.

as suggested by lincoln, here is a post of self revelations:

If cooked cauliflower didn’t smell so badly, I’d eat it every night.
I have a weakness for cheese. And ice cream.
I’m trying really hard to buy things in other colors besides pink.
I can’t stand clean clothes on the floor, even when they’re someone else’s.
I’m scared of Math.
I watch more TV than I should.
I sleep with baby blanket.
I miss sleeping with one certain man, and only that man. He cuddles properly.
I wish I could cook. I wish I had a real kitchen to learn to cook.
I crave gas station hot dogs all the time, but hate eating meat.
I’m a neat freak, but my apartment looks like it suffered an explosion.
I wonder all the time if I’ll ever love someone again.
Sometimes I play favorites with my niece and nephew, but I love them the same.My sister-in-law, Holli, had the best fashion and I wish I could steal her clothes.
I didn’t like said sister-in-law at first, but now I love her dearly and can’t imagine not having her as a sister.
I worry Ben will marry someone I hate.
If I don’t like the ending of a book, I rewrite it.
I hope to someday write a book and have someone care enough to read it.
I regret not finishing a degree, and have recently vowed to finish.
I miss working with my geeks.
I hate writing with anything other than blue ink pens.
I am a giant flake, but have no interest in changing.
I pretend I don’t care what others think of me, but I do. A lot.

tonight is a new episode of grey’s anatomy! so rather than being outside enjoying the sunshine and fresh air, i’ll be in hibernation mode on my couch. there’s no place i’d rather be, well unless it was somewhere watching it on a big screen television with pretty boys fanning me and feeding me an assortment of treats, including but not limited to red vines, caramel popcorn and jelly beans.

since that isn’t happening i’ll be getting ice cream and putting jammies on for the big event, because that’s how i roll.

this week’s column was posted a day early, and can be read here. you knew i’d have something to say about a dead superhero, didn’t you…

I’ve been receiving quite a few emails lately asking for relationship advice. Those emails make me giggle because I’m in no way qualified to be offering advice. I’m 31 and still single. Obviously, I haven’t taken a magic relationship pill, nor can I help you find this magic pill. If you find a reputable dealer who sells them, by all means pick me up one or three—you’ll be rewarded handsomely.
While I am no substitute for the magic relationship pill, I can share my personal experiences on the topic.

The most recent advice seeking email was from a man asking if it were possible for people to remain close friends after a breakup. In my most recent attempt at trying to maintain a post relationship friendship, it didn’t work out as planned. Sure, if it was casual dating I expect a friendship to remain. But if there’s love and a possible future in the equation, forget it. I cannot go from trying on engagement rings at Tiffany’s to maintaining a casual friendship. I’m a passionate person and it doesn’t work that way for me.

I blame Jerry Seinfeld for creating a generation of people who think remaining close friends is a possibility. Remember, Jerry and Elaine are FICTIONAL! In my very non-TV life, this has never happened.

This email couldn’t have come at a better time. Recently a two-year friendship very dear to my heart ended. This is the nice way of saying the love of my life broke my heart (which is another story for another day). The point is we tried to remain friends after we broke up, but it’s impossible. There are too many hurt feelings and painful memories attached that prevented it from working. We tried, and failed miserably.

After spending a few days too sad to socialize, I decided the sulking had to end. It was getting me nowhere, and frankly not a healthy way to handle heartache. Sitting home alone eating massive amounts of junk food never solves anything, and it makes your jeans fit your ass a little more snugly than they should.

The next day with a renewed sense of self, I did what every self-help book ever written advises you not to do. I started through my Rolodex of ex-boyfriends.

With news coverage of last week’s death of comic book superhero Captain America, I thought I better check in with my very own Captain America. You never know, life often follows fiction and it’s always better to be safe than sorry. I learned he was not only safe and well, but also happy. This should not be a bad thing, right?

It’s not that I expected him to live a life of solitude after our breakup. I just imagined it would take some time for him to move on. Time spent creating a shrine to me. Or at least locked in a candle lit basement with The Cure’s Greatest Hits album on repeat. Really, I just wanted to know there were a few tears shed.

You might imagine my surprise to hear he has a new girlfriend. One who makes him blissfully happy. Hearing that an ex is happy isn’t exactly the easiest thing to hear. It’s not that I want him miserable, but hearing such joy in his voice isn’t exactly comforting. My smarter and more compassionate self, sucked it up and told him I was thrilled things were going so well for him. I felt like I was punched in the stomach by said superhero and tried my best not to throw up blood. Obviously, I’m bitter. In my rulebook, this is allowed.
I hung up after a promise to “get coffee” and “catch up soon”. This, of course, will never happen. I wish it were possible to remain friends with my last two boyfriends. It’s not easy losing a boyfriend and a best friend. In fact, it’s downright shitty.