When Tinder Makes You Question Everything You've Ever Wanted

When I was 10 years old I met Benny Disco.  We had a mutual family friend and were invited to swim over at their family's pool.  It was love at first sight.  Benny was 12 (swoon).  He had rosie cheeks and a chubby body and I was smitten.  It was destiny.  That is until he and the older kids went to play basketball in the driveway and I went home with my mom because I wasn't about to be the chubbiest, shortest girl on pavement.

Years passed and Benny floated in and out of my life (I'm totally lying he had no idea who I was). Benny went to a private high school and then some college, I assume.  I drunkenly friended him on Facebook one night in college on a dare from my BFF. She did it, too, in solidarity, of course.  The funny thing about my schoolgirl crush on Benny is that I rarely remember his name (which obviously isn't actually Benny), so I always need confirmation from my friend when we potentially see him out at a bar, or someone mentions a group of his friends.  "Jane, it's Benny and it's so weird that you always say that you love him!"  Whatever.

A few months ago I was doing my classic nighttime ritual - wash face, brush teeth, put on pj's, swipe through Tinder - when the most amazing, serendipitous match flashed before my eyes. There he was, Ben, 23, first pictured walking in some tropical location. Next, holding a fish or a dog or something (I actually can't remember, but everyone on Tinder fishes or has a dog, I think).

This. Was. Fate. 

I swiped right. He swiped right. It's a match, we were meant to be! I imagined he would message me eventually. Noticing our mutual Facebook friends, connecting the dots, realizing he has always (randomly, without reason) had a schoolboy crush on me, too.  We would meet, hit our stride, and be together forever ....or for a beer..... but that was not the case.

Benny and I have been matched for 5 months now, and you know what?  I totally forgot about it until the other day when Benny did the unthinkable! He posted a Tinder moment - for those of you who don't know, a Tinder moment is a photograph that can be seen by all of your Tinder matches for 24 hours.  I, myself, have posted a moment or two (or 15... 3 of which have been liked by Super Bowl Champion, Legarrette Blount, thank you very much!), but Benny's was nothing like my basic "hotdogs or legs" photo on the beach.  Benny's photo was much, much more than that.

I sat there, in my driver's seat horrified, staring at Benny's, what I'm going to call, Little Benny ready for the Disco.... right there on TINDER for all to see with the caption "someone come help me with this?"  BENNY, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! My cheeks flushed.  Benny was supposed to be sweet and innocent and not putting his package on the internet! My hopes, my dreams, my everything came crashing down.  How could I have been so wrong?!

And that was when I got to thinking, I'm probably wrong about a lot of things. We make these snap judgments and let our first impressions of people stick - good or bad - and then sometimes we are unwavering in our convictions and opinions.  While I'm obviously exaggerating my Benny epiphany, I am sort of serious.  I think it's healthy to reevaluate our goals, our dreams, and truly take a look at what we want and why we want it.  It's like when you see a blue dress on JCrew.com and you are so obsessed with it until you walk into the store and try it on and you look like Violet from Willy Wonka (no? just me?). We are terrible at predicting what we will want or feel in the future, so be ready to change your mind, have a change of heart, and swipe left on what you thought you couldn't live without.

To The Boy Who Asked Me To Dance: An Apology

I was just scrolling through my NewsFeed and saw that you posted a status about the snow.  You're writing a book?? Or making a joke.  I can't tell.  I never understood your sense of humor in high school.  Actually, I never really noticed you in high school, except for at our Freshman Semi-Formal.  I want to talk to you about that.

I really owe you an apology.  When I heard through the grapevine that you were thinking about asking me to the dance, I'm not sure if you know this, but I responded like a total bitch.  It's not like anyone else was asking me, but I thought I was too good for you.  I thought you were weird.  You were always wearing that polo shirt tucked into your khakis, walking around talking about books that no one had ever heard of.  You hung around with that wicked short skinny kid with the spiked messy hair.  He wore the same leather trench coat everyday and the two of you probably talked about... I have no idea what you could've been talking about, but I knew I was too cool for you. Well, I thought I was too cool for you, so back through the grapevine I sent the message that I wanted to go to the dance with my girlfriends. You know, to let you down easy before you actually asked me. 

That night I got all dolled up in my White House Black Market strapless dress (my tastes haven't changed much) and bobbed my head to the beat in a circle of my friends wishing silently that the cute boy on the basketball team would ask me to dance next slow song.  He didn't, but you did.  You walked right over, wearing your suit jacket and tie (totally overdressed in the sea of DEB dresses and Old Navy slacks) and asked if I would dance with you.  Feeling awkward and reluctant, but not wanting to be rude, I said yes. 

Your hands were all clammy and so was your brow line and I felt so embarrassed not wanting anyone to see us dancing together. I remember looking around the gym, thinking everyone was staring at me - at us.  My friends stood together a few feet away, some giggling, some giving me apologetic "it's almost over" glances. You weren't watching them though, you were looking right at me. 

Thirty seconds into the song, "I... uhm.. I have to go to the bathroom." 

That was the best I could do? Seriously?  I said it and I ran to the to meet my BFF and left you there, standing near the DJ, alone. And I am truly sorry. 

Because now here I am eight years later drowning in a sea of unanswered OkCupid messages, hoping that boys men will text me first, hold the door, or buy my beer.  I, like so many women, fall for guys who don't want to commit to me, nor be seen together in public.  I fall for the sorry-my-phones-been-dead-for-three-weeks texts and the I'm-not-looking-for-a-girlfriend-but-if-I-was-it-would-be-you excuses.  I would kill for a guy to approach me now with the same confidence you did at our first high school semi-formal.... to walk right up to me and ask me to dance right there in front of everyone.  I didn't know it then, but clearly you were too cool for me.

You probably still are, as far as FaceBook can tell me.  You understand that there is more to the world than what's right under  our noses.  You raise funds for dreamers, and watch movies and football, and read books, and still wear your shirts tucked into your khakis.  I'm sure you're doing well, and I hope you are.  So, even if you don't remember this night, I wanted to tell you that I do, and I wanted to say that I'm sorry.  You deserved a better dance partner. 

There Is Nothing Cute About Raccoons

The following is a list of 10 of the most important lessons I have learned so far as a single twenty-something in the infamous proverbial "real world."  Just here to share some wisdom, take it or leave it - but seriously take it because even though I don't have my life together, some of these gems are really legit. 

1.  Beer does not put out the buffalo chicken flame.

This may sound like common sense to some of you; however, you can't imagine how many times I've been at dinner with someone who orders buffalo wings or a buffalo chicken sandwich with just a beer and no water!  They take a bite, swig the beer to null the fire and inevitably have to flag down the waitress for a glass of agua.  Do yourself and the waitstaff a favor and request a water ahead of time. 

2.  Fool me once, shame on you.

Fool me twice, still shame on you. 

If there is anything I have learned from being duped by guys, listening to my friends that have been duped by guys, and watching tons of RomComs where the girl is duped by the guy, it's this: blaming yourself is the absolute worst.  Does it totally suck that you gave someone a second chance and it doesn't work out? Yeah totally, but whatever.  If it had worked out differently you would've been psyched! So, give as many chances as you want and don't blame yourself for being optimistic, but when the hurting starts to outweigh the happiness, quit that shit cold turkey. Speaking of which...

3.  Quitters actually sometimes win. 

I quit everything that doesn't make me happy because I've come to find that quitting is not synonymous with failure.  From where I stand, everything in life falls somewhere on the spectrum between makes you unbelievably happy or makes you feel totally distressed, disheartened, and disappointed.  So, once something has crossed over the center line, tips-the-scales or whatever in the wrong direction, I'm out. I'm 22. I have a lifetime ahead of me to be happy, I don't need to spend any more time, energy, or money doing something that causes me more stress than good.  The happier, the better. 

4.  Most things in life are not permanent

(except like, tattoos and final sale items). 

Whenever you make a decision, no matter how big or small, you gotta remind yourself that it is not set in stone.  I mean obviously if you make the decision to quit your job and call your boss an "effin' bitch" or something, that's probably permanent, but most things that you do are not.  If you move to a new city and it doesn't work out, you're not stuck there.  If you go out with a guy and meet his family too soon, you don't need to marry him.  You, my single 20-something sista, are beholden to you right now, make decisions accordingly. 

5.  Fergie was onto something when she was up in the gym
working on her fitness with a witness. 

I know I just told you that you're beholden to yourself, but from what I've found it helps to have someone else keeping tabs.  If you set a goal, like fitness or finding a job or not wearing sweats every day of the weekend (some of my own goals obviously) then it's good to share that goal with someone else.  Not so that person can shame you when you're not doing it, but so that there's someone else who knows what you're working on and can support you or tell you to get your ass in gear.  I'd pick a friend that shares the same goal, that can be honest with you without being insulting. 

6.  No one can see the size on your tag. 

Please read that carefully again.  NO ONE CAN SEE THE SIZE ON YOUR TAG! There are only two times you really wonder what size someones clothes are.  1.) when it's your friend and she looks bangin' and you find yourself reenacting that creepy "lemme borrow that top" YouTube video; or 2.) whatever that girl is wearing looks way too big or way too small.  The second instance is what you want to avoid.  Here's the thing, you look better when your clothes fit. People can't see for sure that you're wearing an XS, but they can see what you look like in that size. Be confident in yourself, wear the clothes that fit your body, and forget about the stupid XS-XL labels tacked to the back of your neck, it's on the inside of your shirt, not plastered on your forehead. 

7.  The only investment you can make with certainty is in

a timeless wardrobe. 

With every investment - time, money, emotion - you run the risk of the unexpected.  Someone falls out of love, something falls from the sky, somewhere falls on hard times; you cannot predict what will happen in the future.  You can (and should) make a plan, set a goal, work toward something, but don't beat yourself up if there's an unexpected trauma, tragedy, or change of heart.  I've learned the best investments are made in your passions at that moment and in the little black dress, nude heels, and wool socks. 

8. There is nothing cute about raccoons.

Women should be able to bronze without restraint or fear of judgement.  There is no worse make up fopaux than the rancid act of raccooning yourself.  There is noting cute about raccoons, dark eye make up, white everything else.  Bronze like nobody is watching, because honestly, no one is watching.  When you stumble into the bathroom after 4 vodka crans you don't want to find yourself looking like a trashed woodland creature.  Bronze, baby, bronze! Just find the shade that's right for your skin. Orange raccoons aren't majestic, they're creepy. (Recommendations include BareMinerals Warmth, Clinique True Bronzed Pressed Powder, Urban Decay Naked Flushed, etc). 

9. Online dating is hilarious, awkward, and a two-way street. 

I've referenced my online dating excursions enough for you guys to know that I'm obviously taking it sort of seriously.  In the time that I've been on OkCupid, Tinder, and POF (the former lasting about 5 hours), I've learned that it is what you make it.  I live in a small suburban town where I can't throw a dead cat 10 feet without hitting someone I knew in high school (that's like a wicked gross thing to say, but I heard that phrase once and have never used it before in context).  My point is that I don't live in some cool downtown apartment surrounded by yo-pros ready to sweep me off into the sunset and studies have shown that you're just as likely to meet your spouse at bar as you are to meet them online. So, even if I'm not doing myself any good, there's no harm in trying.  Plus, some of the post-date stories are party pleasers.  Shout out to the 6'8" leprechaun whose "guilty pleasure" was going to Miley Cyrus concerts, I hope you find what you're looking for. 

10. Secure your own oxygen mask before assisting others.

Ya know when you're on an airplane and the flight attendant tells you that in the case of an emergency an oxygen mask will fall from the ceiling in front of you (and not fully inflate, which gives me such anxiety)? Anyway, you're supposed to put it on yourself first before helping kids or old people or people who just cant figure out how the elastic pulley things on the sides work. The airline isn't telling you this because they're assholes, they're actually teaching a super important lesson about self-preservation.  You are no use to anyone if you're not breathing.  It's natural in your 20's to want to have it all together and be there for the people you care about (at least it seems natural to me) because inevitably your friend will fall flat on her face (literally if her heels are too tall, figuratively if she is also a typical twenty-something), and you're going to want to help her get back up, which will be IMPOSSIBLE if you are not breathing.  Take time for yourself.  Make sure you're shit is in order before taking on someone else's shit.  Secure your mask or whatever.  It doesn't mean you don't love the others around you, it means you want to be ready for when they need you most. 

Crock-Pots and Christmas Elves

In lieu of exchanging gifts, my mother, three sisters, two brothers, additional in-laws, friends, boyfriends, and significant others over the age of 18 have a Yankee Swap on Christmas Eve.  The exact number of participants varies each year due to marriages, divorces, estrangements, break-ups, new homes (shout out to my BFF's family for moving an hour away), etc.  Regardless, every adult brings one gift to enter into the swap and leaves with a different one... Unless you, like myself, buy something special with yourself in mind, such as the 30 rack of Bud Light and rolls of paper towels I put in last year... It's funny, too, sometimes you end up with something you never expected. Like the year I received this Neckline Slimmer... or my mother ended up with this lingerie... 

But there is something that you can expect every year: the sister that I am babysitting for this week will inevitably bring a Crock-Pot.  I'm not kidding.  Every year, for as long as I can remember, someone has unwrapped a Crock-Pot.  Some years our mom takes pity and keeps it... again.  Some years my sister takes it back home, but no doubt, this year, I'm taking it.  After this week, I get why she brings the Crock-Pot to the swap: it works Christmas miracles! 

Being a parent is literally a full-time job. Kudos to all of those working parents out there, you're crushing it! Days are jam-packed with washing laundry, and doing homework, and grocery shopping, and basketball practice. The list is clearly never-ending.  Then, when you're trying to get stuff done and your kids are watching TV, they watch these shows where the moms have all day to prepare dinner and they wonder why you keep feeding them cereal for two meals of the day.  BUT low and behold, some genius out there invented a Crock-Pot, slow cooking tacos and meatballs galore! Isn't it nice to think that someone is out there looking out for us moms? (I'm including myself in that category until tomorrow morning). Which is a good thing, too, because there are some assholes out there just trying to make our lives harder! Like the jerk who created Elf on a Shelf. 

Meet Oodle - my sister's kids' Elf on a Shelf.

 

Oodle is like the anti-CrockPot.

He makes no one's life easier and brings anxiety to the Christmas season.  Out of the 5 days I have been a mom, twice I have forgotten to move Oodle before climbing into bed, and have had to get up in the middle of the night to find a new location for this bitch! I'll tell you, it is adorable watching my two nephews who still believe in Santa wake up and run around the downstairs looking for Oodle, but c'mon! Santa already sees you when you're sleeping! He knows when you're awake! And when you're not awake, Mom or Dad has to go find a new place for Oodle!  To make it worse, I've noticed that some parents aren't helping each other out.  Pinterest and Facebook are flooded with Elf on a Shelf ideas! Elves ice skating around the kitchen table. Elves writing notes to their families.  Elves building a freaking igloo out of marshmallows! RELAX, just move your Elf at night like everyone else and stop making it harder for others to keep up!

I get it.  Crafty moms and dads exist. Culinary moms and dads exist. Busy moms and dads exist.  Parents, just like kids, come in all shapes and sizes (if your size it too big, hit me up, I'll let you borrow my Neckline Slimmer), but my point is this: I've realized this week that parenting is a day-by-day vocation, and it's freaking hard! In my experience as a spoiled-rotten daughter, your kids have NO IDEA how much work you do so they probably don't thank you for 85% of what you spend your life doing to make theirs easier.... but that's okay.  Because someday, they will have kids of their own, or their sister will ask them to babysit for a week, and they won't remember that one time in 2013 when Oodle stayed in the same place for 6 days in a row... and they'll have no idea that the meatballs you heated in the Crock-Pot were actually frozen from Costco.  They'll be thankful that you tried, that you were invested, and that you were there.  Hang your hat on that this holiday season.  If you're a parent, you're a Rock Star!

Welcome To The Real World.

I feel like every special occasion that we've experienced since age thirteen feels monumental.  Like a coming-of-age-shit-I'm-growing-up moment that we look forward to until it happens and then we're like "seriously, can't a girl get a nap time in class anymore?"

I mean, think about it.  We turn thirteen and everyone tells us we're no longer kids.  Then we turn sixteen and they give us car keys and consensual sex.  Eighteen and we are LEGALLY adults: voting in elections, buying porn and dip... ya know, because adults need rights to nudity and cancer.

We graduate high school and enter the real world of college campuses, trusted just enough to live on our own (under the supervision of our peers).  This is where the consensual sex really comes to fruition and Sex On The Beach is actually just Cherry Burnetts and OJ from the dining hall, but it totally tastes like the real thing, don't you think?

We turn twenty-one and they put beers in our hands as if we hadn't had them there before and the car keys they gave us five years prior look even scarier on the way home from a bar than they did on the way home from soccer practice.

And today, I hit the next benchmark -- I am a college graduate.  Talk about a coming-of-age-shit-I'm-growing-up moment... but the weird thing is that I have 0% confidence in how I should be feeling, or thinking, or honestly what I should be doing.  Did today really make me an adult?

Everyone keeps talking about how they're not ready for  real life and I don't even know what it means.  For example, this past Monday night we had a bar crawl for senior students only.  At the last bar, I kissed a guy (the guy who only gives me the time of day if it's not the same time new jordans are released... you all know him well).  So anyway, I stopped kissing him, turned to my friend, and she said, "Ya know, it's fine because this is the last time you can do things like that!" ... not that I'm saying she is wrong, but I received and read my diploma today and it didn't make reference to an alumni prohibition of bar-kissing.

Obviously I'm exaggerating, but it's all very confusing.  We create these perceptions of what real life will be like.  As if because I have my name on a piece of paper next to the words magna cum laude and I'm suddenly supposed to use my knowledge of mental disorders and social constructions to guide all of my actions and decisions in a mature and professional way?  I'm not saying that my education has not propelled me toward success because I actually do believe I'm qualified intellectually to enter the infamous real world, I'm just also wondering what else is changing?  What else should be changing?  How should I be changing?

If anyone has the answers or thinks they might, I'm totally down to listen, but until then I guess this is the first real life challenge in store for college graduates.  Welcome to the Real World.

Suppose You Can Get What You Want...

Whenever I find an eyelash on my cheek in the mirror I am sure to make a wish, I take birthday candles very seriously, and I love fortune cookies.  I wouldn't describe myself as superstitious, but rather I have a lot of faith that what is meant for a person finds its way into his or her life.  Fortune cookies, to me, are the best part of sushi nights with my family, chinese food nights with my friends, and are an excellent excuse for mai tais or scorpion bowls.

I always like to say that my former boyfriend and I fell in love over fortune cookies.  He probably would not say that, but I do.  The first time I really remember the two of us having a conversation together was over a fortune.  A common friend of ours ordered chinese food for dinner and offered me the cookie.  Together my former boyfriend and I opened it and read allowed our first fortune together

Your income will increase.

I was disappointed.  I don't like the fortunes that have simple, literal meanings; my former boyfriend on the other hand was beyond excited.  We were getting paid the next day, so in his mind, the fortune was meant for us.  When I went to throw it away he stopped me, "hey, wait... you should save that," so I stuck it in the back of my phone case.  

The next time we got a fortune together was the first time I visited him that summer, the next time he visited me, and the list goes on.  Fortunes were our thing.  We got one last New Years and read it at midnight. We would sneak them from the dining hall for each other on stir fry Wednesdays --  it was our fun little game, and I saved them all.  My favorite one we ever got was from a restaurant in my town.  We stopped there one day on our way back from the grocery store and asked for just one fortune.

Our brightest blazes of gladness are commonly kindled by unexpected sparks.  

I should correct my previous statement: I fell in love over fortune cookies.  Ever since we have broken up, I have been less than delighted when my sister and I finish our sushi or my friends' scorpion bowl is empty because my favorite part of Asian cuisine has been tainted.  Fortune cookies started to become a bitter reminder of all of the fun memories we had.  Is it pathetic that cookies started making me sad? Maybe, but they did nonetheless. 

The other day, I went to pick up dinner for my family at the same sushi restaurant near the grocery store where we had gotten my favorite fortune.  While I was there I asked for one extra cookie to open by myself in the car.  This fortune, I told myself, was meant for me.  Whatever it said was going to set the tone for my new life - my new outlook for the year ahead.  I know how cheesy this all sounds, but that's honestly what I did.  I opened the fortune and found a phrase I truly believe was intended for me.

Suppose you can get what you want...

At first I thought that the universe was telling me that if I want to get back together with my former boyfriend I can, but then I took a second look.  My fortune is telling me that I can, without a doubt, find what I'm looking for.  I should never settle.  I can find someone, something, anything that makes me happy as long as I know what I want and I accept nothing less.  So for now, I don't know exactly where to find what I'm looking for but it's out there; and I'll find it in the unlikeliest of places because our brightest blazes of gladness are commonly kindled by unexpected sparks. 

I've Been Through a Lot of Shit This Year, But I'ma Keep My Head Up Like My Nose Is Bleeding

A recap of my year.

January
I rang in 2013 with my former boyfriend and his friends.  The entire situation started out rocky because I had originally asked him to spend the night in my hometown and he could not commit one way or the other - obviously waiting for a better offer to come his way.  Finally we agreed on me traveling to spend the night with his friends and family.  As the night went on, he became more intoxicated and I became less enthralled.  On the plus side, my outfit was casual yet sparkly... on the downside, he puked jagger and his brother blacked out only to tell me how my visiting ruined his night.

The highlight of January, however, was visiting my best friend, Kevin, in Washington, DC, for the Presidential Inauguration, or as I like to call it - my first Beyonce concert.  The weekend was incredible!  We went to the Massachusetts Democratic Party's cocktail party, watched the leader of our nation's inauguration for a second term, and danced the night away at his school's Inaugural Ball.  I got to dress like a princess and we made once in a lifetime memories.

February
February came and I made the decision to no longer be a college athlete.  I had walked onto the lacrosse team when I transferred to make friends and get myself in shape.  Once the friends I had made graduated and I dropped twenty pounds, however, I realized that playing college sports was definitely not for me and that I was not happy dedicating four hours a day to playing a game.  Sometimes I miss being a part of a team with built-in friends, plans, and athletic gear, but then I remember all of the time I have spent on schoolwork and with my family that would not have been possible if I was still on the team.

Right at the end of the month, my family, along with my former boyfriend and I, went on a ski trip to New Hampshire.  It was incredibly fun! I learned how to stand on two skis, grew closer with my (at the time) soon to be brother-in-law, and my former boyfriend was awesome with my nephews.  He snowboarded one day and skied with me the next, took it slow so I didn't feel stupid, and we were in good spirits all weekend.  On the way home we stopped at what became our favorite memory of the weekend, a restaurant called the Poor People's Pub and had french onion soup and studied for his exam coming up the next day.

March
Veryyyy little happened in March.  Spring break was uneventful.  I spent the week at home... alone.   I missed lacrosse for the first time when the photographs of my old team started pouring in from their trip to South Carolina, and there was a snowstorm so my former boyfriend could not travel to my house for the last two days of break as planned.

April
My former boyfriend and I got in our first real fight... in front of his family.  We were invited to spend the weekend at his family's condo in upstate New York.  On the way there I asked if he would come with me to visit my friend at her school the following weekend.  He told me maybe, but then later in the night told me (in front of his brother) that he did not plan on coming because he simply "didn't want to"... and his friends would be mad at him.  I was infuriated.  While I may have overreacted, I was I could not understand why he could not take one night to meet my childhood friend.  What was so important that had to be done with his friends that night? Drink a few extra Coors Lights?  After a day and a half of tension, we fought it out... he apologized... and agreed to come.  In the end however, he STILL didn't meet my friend because his favorite college basketball team was playing in the championship and I encouraged him to stay at school and watch the game with his friends (I can be reasonable).  The team lost.

May
The school year ended and summertime started with a bang!  My mother worked so hard and planned my sister a BEAUTIFUL brunch for her bridal shower.  We drank mimosa's, opened gifts, and I read a poem that made my sister cry.  It was truly my favorite part of my sister's wedding events.  My sister made a toast when she thanked everyone for coming and what she said still resinates with me today.  "This is what I've been looking forward to... everyone being here together because I feel like my whole life is women, and I love you all."  My life has truly been shaped by the women in it.  After my dad's passing it was my aunts, sisters, and mother who stepped in to pick up the pieces, to raise me, and to help me grow into the woman I have become.

June
In June I turned 21 and it was amazing!  My mother and sisters surprised me with a trip to Florida to celebrate my birthday in Harry Potter World! The following week my two best girlfriends (one from college, one from home) brought me out for the night and we danced and drank our faces off.  The next night my mother allowed me to have a party at my house where 20 of my friends from home and school came and we spent the night playing drinking games and catching up in my back yard.  It was a blast!

July
There is no possible way to describe the convoluted, terribly timed happenings of July 2013.  I planned my sister's bachelorette party for July 13th.  That same morning my mother woke us up to tell us that our grandfather, who had been in an out of the hospital for the previous year and a half, had passed away in rehab early that morning.  A wave of devastation and relief crashed through our household.  As morbid as it sounds, relief came first.  He was so sick for so long, needing countless surgeries and round the clock supervision.  He had been hallucinating, sleepwalking, and suffering for too long.  Devastation came next because he was our father figure... our strongest, longest male figure, and he was gone... and life went on.  I did my best to rev my sister up and we went out for her Bachelorette party on the town! My sisters, mother, and the bride's friends went into the city for a lavish dinner and drinks, and then us girls were off to the races! We drank, danced, sang, and snacked on the way home. The night was a stark contrast to the way the morning had begun and emotions were obviously mixed, confused, and overwhelming.... and my sister puked the next morning.

The funeral was scheduled for that Tuesday.  My boyfriend not only did not come, but actually did not even offer.  I received a picture from him that afternoon at a baseball game with his best friend...He skipped my grandfather's funeral for the all-star game.  I visited him that Thursday for the weekend because he had gotten me tickets to see my favorite singer in concert for my birthday.  So was I upset? Could I be?  How do you say thank you for the birthday gift, I would trade it in if it meant you would have been there to support me this week?

August
My sister married the man she will spend the rest of her life with.  I love him more than words.
My former boyfriend and I fought after the wedding. It was the beginning of the end of our relationship.  I realized during photographs that he did not see himself as a part of our family... or even consider it a possibility.  I wish that I had invited my best friend Kevin to be in the photographs instead because he is my forever.

My former boyfriend and I fought for the rest of the month about everything - his lack of commitment to visiting me, his lack of reasoning for not being there for me when my grandfather died, and especially his disregard and lack of desire to understand or even respect my feelings.  He never did anything out of love or desire to make me happy - everything was out of practicality or convenience.

September
The new school year began.  My former boyfriend and I basically stopped having sex and I did a lot of crying.

October
We broke up.  It was "my decision."

November
I began this blog.

December
I am so ready to start the New Year.

In the words of Little Wayne  - I've been through a lot of shit this year, but I'ma keep my head up like my nose is bleeding.  If anything, this year has taught me that shitty things happen... all the time.  Timing sucks, people change and hurt you, and you know what you have to do? Keep living.   Because its not everyone, every time, and everything that hurts.  There actually are people out there who love unconditionally and make your life worth living - and those are the people I am going to fill 2014 with.  The people who I care about and who care about me.

I am ringing in 2014 with my friends.  Two of my girlfriends from school and two of my girlfriends from home, and I could not be more excited about it.  Life is about reflecting on your past, drawing on what you've learned, and building upon it in your future.  New Year's Eve is the perfect time to do that, so New Year - New You, and I'm wishing you all the happiness life has to offer.