The Rules of Internet Dating: Part One

Get a fucking grip. Seriously, you are probably not going to meet The One immediately. Or maybe ever. Fuck, who even made up the rule that there would be one person for everyone? Maybe, there are several people who are meant to come into your life, for a period of time, and make you happy.

And maybe that period of time is just an evening, or a month. Maybe it's a year, or twenty. Who knows? Why are we forcing things? Why narrow your world view so much? I don't fucking understand it.

Anyway, the fact that your whole profile goes on and on (and fucking on) about how you're looking for The One, or someone to take care of, or spoil, or whatever, is 1) pathetic and 2) a huge turn off to any girl actually worth meeting.

Think about it. You say you want a girl to spend your time with, and maybe marry (big mistake, btw) and raise a family with (don't even get me started), and that's fine. If that's what you have decided you want, then ok, I guess I get it. To each his own. But really, what guy wants to fucking take care of their wife for the rest of their life? I mean ultimately, don't you want an independent girl who can go out with her friends while you stay home and look at porn or go over to your buddy's house and do whatever it is you do? Because I sure as shit don't want to date, let alone marry, someone who only has me to give them a reason to be, and I can't say I've met a lot of men who want that, either. Maybe you're inexperienced, and you think you want it? But I guarantee you, as soon as you experience it for, like, an hour... you will change your mind.

Let's just get real here, before I vomit all over my computer at your cheesy, codependent, grossly romantic, unrealistic view of things. State what you're looking for, but please man up and understand that sometimes, it's just not going to happen. We may exchange a few messages; maybe we'll meet, maybe we won't. When I don't return your message after a few days, it's probably because I'm not interested, but it might be because I'm fucking busy.

And ultimately, if you're looking for the kind of girl that I described above (the one whose moon and sun revolve around you so much that it's suffocating), you will be glad that we stopped communicating. And if you're looking for the kind of girl that I am (one who doesn't put too much stock in brief exchanges, and won't be offended if you never text me again... because I'm BUSY, and I have a life), then you'll understand and probably appreciate when it takes me a minute to respond.

But p.s.? If I stop responding... or don't return your initial message? Don't try again, because I'm not fucking interested. And please don't send me a message asking me why I'm not responding, or what it is about you that I didn't like, because you won't like the answer. What don't I like about you? Chances are, the answer is YOU.

Dear St. Anthony:

I lost my grandma a few weeks ago.
I lost my friend Travis, my favorite ginger (other than myself, obviously), and one of the most genuine people I've ever known.
I survived several breakups: The first was with what I thought was my dream job; the second, my fiance; and finally, with one of my best friends.

I lost my home, my credit score, and (temporarily) my sanity.

But here I am. All of this loss has lead me seek (actively and sometimes desperately) myself. And finally, I'm here; I'm awake.

Maybe loss gives you a reason to step back and reassess the people, situations, things in your life. All this trauma, all of the things I gave up and had taken away, they provided me with something I may not have otherwise gotten: Opportunity.

Sometimes, maybe things have to get worse before they can get better. In November, I admitted myself into a partial hospitalization for depression & anxiety. I was desperate- even my dreams were anxiety-provoking. Most days, I was paralyzed by fear, and some days it was impossible to leave my bed, let alone my house. I had no idea that what I was getting myself into was going to lead to another major event: I was diagnosed with Bulimia.

It's interesting to me that one could go 27 years with an eating disorder and never, ever even consider that what I was dealing with was, in fact, an eating disorder. But after 6 months of intensive treatment, the thing that I've learned above all else is this: When you're sick, you don't always know that you're sick.

It took me months- in fact, until very, very recently- to accept that I do have an eating disorder. For me, it's not about insecurities, or being as thin as possible; it's about being numb and having control over something. Anything.

It's easy to believe that that uneasy feeling in your stomach that makes you feel like you're going to vomit, and so you don't eat for fear of actually vomiting is a symptom of anxiety. And it's easy to blame binge-eating on depression. Over-exercising? Blame anxiety. Blame, blame, write it off, and jump straight into the downward spiral that is ED. Hello, rebound relationship.

So loss? Sucks ass. And I'm not sure that I will ever stop fighting the part of me that wants to avoid feeling anything like the plague, but it's gotten better. I actually cried at my grandma's funeral. And again, and again, and again. In fact, I might cry now- and I'm ok with it. Because I? don't want to use my body as a punching bag for my emotions anymore.

In all this loss, I've found myself (maybe with a little help from good ole St. Anthony... I did go to mass recently, for the first time in years). At least, for now.

And I'm writing again. On paper, in Word documents, on this blog... Every single time I have sat down to write, or thought about writing, in the last few months, the words don't flow. But they're back, and so am I.





P.S., that picture? Is my amazing Grandmother outside the apartment building she grew up in in Manhattan. She's fabulous, I know.

Step One

I believe this is what's called "getting it the fuck together." Or at least, I hope it's the start.

On Being Thrifty

2012: The Year of Living Like a Homeless Person

I'm realizing that joking about being broke just isn't that fun anymore. Actually, it kind of sucks. It sucks to see people my age, my friends and family and coworkers and peers, who are doing things- going places, experiencing things- and I'm not. I've also realized that, while I really, really enjoy having nice things, spending money frivolously is one of my biggest stressors.

As part of my goal for this year to start living within my means, it looks like I am going to have to quit spending money on shit that doesn't really matter. Like... Chanel sunglasses. I'm kidding, I don't regret those for one second! More like over-priced sweaters, dresses that get worn once or twice before I spill red wine on it or get bored with it, shoes, magazines, nail polish, and candy.

It just so happens that I've taken up a new hobby; well, it's not new to me, I suppose I've relearned to enjoy it. For a long time, I associated it with a person and felt pretty negatively about it. But I really, really love thrifting. I've come to realize that there isn't any reason I should pretty much ever be buying clothing at the prices I buy clothing at. So, with a few stipulations (denim, special occasion, and shoes), I'm taking a one year hiatus from buying clothes that aren't at least 60% marked down from what their retail price would be. I'm not saying I'll only buy from thrift stores, because I have access to some things through work at significantly discounted prices.

I'm excited. It's kind of amazing to find something really unique and super cheap, and it's time consuming, which is a good thing for me right now. In fact, I found almost my entire NYE outfit at Goodwill the week before, it cost me about $15. Which leaves me with more money to spend on booze!

Ok, I'm kidding! ...sort of. More money to put in the vacation/moving/living abroad kitty, yes?

SBF Seeking BFF

Single Broke Female Seeking BFF.
SBF seeks BFF who is fun, reliable, relatively fit and trustworthy. 23-33 years old preferred in the Columbus area. Up for last-minute road trips, cooking experiments and hysterical dating stories. Must like cats. I'm broke, so you can be too. Even better if you're a student and up for regular study sessions. No boy-crazy, needy girls need apply, however, I will absolutely be your wing woman when you need it. Must have slightly-off sense of humor or at least appreciate mine.

I just spent 8 days in Northern California with my BFF&E&E&E, Sarah. She's new to the area and feeling pretty bored. I spent Christmas eve, Christmas and New Year's hanging out with her in her cabin in the (literal) woods, talking about how to cure that boredom and meet new people. I came to the realization that I really need a hobby other than painting my nails and one that does not involve cats.

Last night, she sent me this blog: MWF Seeking BFF. It's kind of amazing. One of life's biggest challenges has to be meeting quality friends as an adult. Rachel, the blog's author, is right- why are so many women so quick to admit they are looking for/need a man, but don't think seeking out new girl friends is important? To have someone you can text on a Tuesday evening to come over and drink a glass of wine and chat. I think we need to give more credit to girlfriend time and having someone who will knock on our door when they know we need it most, or show up at the airport to pick you up after an 8-day, last minute trip west (yes, Mollee, I'm looking at you buttercup!)

Because I have plans to stay in Columbus for at least the next year, I think I may take the BFF challenge. I have made some amazing friends in the last year, but I'm sure that a few more can't hurt. I have had some aversion to dating in my year of singledom, and I think this may be the answer for me. Girls don't make me uncomfortable or hyper-aware of my faults. Girl friendships (healthy ones) encourage us to be ourselves and love ourselves. It's funny because one of the things I have come to realize is that I don't have a lot of male friends because I truly hold all of my friends to the standard I would hold a significant other to. Honestly, if any of my best girl friends had the right anatomy, I would marry them. So friend dating is just like dating for a significant other, yes? It's important for so many reasons!

I'm sure that one of the biggest challenges of this "friend dating" is going to be financial. Today is my day to budget for the next quarter, and I think it's going to be important to add that into my plans. Maybe I'll find a friend who wants to go to thrift stores far away with me!

I'm heading back to work this week after a significant period of time off, and I am booked up pretty much all week with classes and playing catch-up after my vacation. I hope everyone had a happy new year, let's celebrate the best year ever with some new friends!

On Wearing Red Lipstick on a Date

I want to write about something I saw on Twitter yesterday that kind of pissed me off.

One of my favorite makeup brands (ok, to be honest, it's the brand that I work for) wrote about what kind of makeup you should wear on a first date- what guys like girls to wear. In particular, most men don't like red lipstick.

Wait, what? What the fuck? Why the fuck am I supposed to care if a guy I just met doesn't like my red lipstick? Shouldn't I be able to wear something that is kind of my "thing" and not have to worry that someone isn't going to like me for it? Why are we encouraging the idea that girls and women need men to like them to feel beautiful, confident, trendy, bold, classic, whatever?!

I wear red lipstick almost every day. And if I don't? It's only because my lips are so chapped they're bleeding, or I'm getting ready to hit the gym. Actually, there have been times that I've worn my lipstick to the gym because I just don't give a fuck. And you shouldn't, either.

Because I wear bold colors on my lips so often, why am I supposed to change that for a first date? If a potential mate doesn't think I'm beautiful, or smart or funny (which I am all three, by the way), he can pretty much go fuck himself. I'm serious. I try to be honest from the get-go about who I am, what I want, and what my style is; because it's all part of me. Am I supposed to wait until the third date to reveal this? What is the acceptable time-frame for making someone like me and then pulling my red lipstick out of my purse, and they will still think I'm awesome?

I still laugh because I was having a conversation with a friend one time, and when I mentioned my lipstick, she said "I guess I just think that red lipstick is less kissable." To which I replied "maybe... but it is certainly more fuckable."

So cheers to being yourself, wearing your red lipstick or your hair in a braid, or whatever it is you do that makes you you. And here's a big fuck you to anyone who can't appreciate it.

Ciaooooooo for now!
Kelsey

On Learning to Eat Leftovers

I have always turned my nose up at the idea of leftovers. I know people who prefer leftovers, and I just don't get it! What's so great about a cold piece of pizza? Or leftover fettuccine alfredo, the cheese has separated from the butter and cream, and the noodles are hard. Don't think I haven't tried, I just don't enjoy it.

Luckily for me, I've never had to learn to enjoy- or tolerate- it. I've always had someone who I consider my personal garbage disposal; someone who I can rely on to eat what I want to throw away; this way I don't feel completely guilty thinking about starving children in Africa while I'm scraping an entire pot of spaghetti into the garbage can. At one point, it was my live-in boyfriend turned fiance, and then it was Sarah, and now... no one.

I love to cook. The problem is, I don't know how to cook for just one person. So I spent a couple of months cooking and feeding everyone who would take it. And then I ran out of money and came to the realization that if I want to eat, I'm going to have to learn to eat leftovers. This was maybe one of the hardest things for me to deal with in my newly-found singledom. I found that things I can't tolerate leftover are chinese food, subs and most meats. I've learned to make a vat of applesauce because I can eat it for a week and not get bored. Mashed potatoes also reheat well.

I'm still undecided about spaghetti. I don't like that the noodles get kind of hard, and if you heat them up again, they get soggy. I'm mourning the ability to have a different food at every meal, and it's hard to buy healthy foods because they go bad too quickly. But I'm accepting it, and trying new things to figure out what stays tolerable after refrigeration.

I guess my point here is, I'd rather eat soggy, stale leftovers than be in a soggy, stale relationship. I might get food poisoning from eating meat that should have been cooked a few days ago- because I haven't been home to cook it, but can't justify throwing money in the trash- but at least my brain will no longer be poisoned, right?