Jane Austen Vs. The All-You-Can-Eat Buffet

Do you ever feel like you have some area of your life under control, only to be blindsided by evidence to the contrary? I am currently feeling overwhelmed by insecurity, and while most people I know deal with insecurity regularly (it seems to be a fairly unifying human experience), I usually don’t worry too much…

Chasing the Thigh Gap

I’m sitting on his couch, wearing red underwear and a t-shirt he gave me, my feet propped up on the coffee table. He’s lying on the couch to my right, and we’re talking about Saturday morning things, which is to say, nothing of consequence. I’m sorry to change the subject, but I just have to…

I Want to Write, But…

I want to write, but my brain is stretched thin, like getting eight more cookies out of five cookies’ worth of dough. Like squeezing into that cheap-ass dress a size too small — the one with a price I couldn’t resist. Like the shoulder seams of my favorite t-shirt, held together less by thread than…

Three Things I Always Assume

I’ve read that making assumptions is an unhealthy habit, but I’ve also read that I shouldn’t believe everything I read. So in the spirit of ignoring conventional wisdom, here are three assumptions I make in just about any social or professional situation I find myself. 1. Everyone likes me. Ok. I know that this one…

The Trouble With “Too Nice”

I’ve lately started wondering about the sort of dysfunction one must experience and internalize to look at a potential romantic partner and judge them “too nice.” What does it even mean to be too nice? Am I so accustomed to assholes that I’m instantly suspicious of nice guys? (Hint: yes) By picking on this non-existent…

You Are Cordially Uninvited

I don’t doubt that what I see as my own charm, whimsy, and honesty constitute red flags for potential dates. So to any man who emerges from the obstacle course of my single-mom status and “refreshing honesty” about my shortcomings with his eyes still fixed on pursuit, I say, “Bravo, sir – bring it on.”…

The Bliss of Ignorance

I prefer when circumstances align that allow me to be either a written processor or a verbal processor. When I’m struggling with something, I come here and write about it, or I call one of the people in my inner circle, or I do some combination of the two, ultimately arriving at some level of…

Single Mom Seeks Unicorn

I liken this blog to a slightly more edited version of my personal journal — it’s raw, confessional, and fiercely honest. One thing I don’t want is for it to ever veer into mommy blog territory, so while you shouldn’t be concerned that this post is a trend in that direction, I do want to…

Forty’s Thoughts on Fifty

I was recently notified that I hit both the 50-posts mark and the 50-followers milestone. Fifty seems like a good place to do some reflecting, so here goes… I am a writer. I have always been a writer. My writing is at once catharsis and egotism, pure creation and a cry for attention, pressure release…

…What She’s Having

I find myself thinking a lot lately about When Harry Met Sally — or rather, about the film’s central question: can men and women be friends without sex getting in the way? I’ve made several friends over the past year or so, most notably The Confidante and The Voyeur (my many years of French classes…

The Paradox of Pragmatism

Last night, I re-read Jack London’s short story “To Build a Fire,” which seemed an appropriate choice based on last week’s polar vortex. In the story, the narrator quickly identifies the solitary human character’s primary flaw: he lacks imagination. To this man, the extreme cold is an observable fact, a stimuli that requires a response…

Caveat Emptor

Let’s step back in time to when I met The Manager. That Sunday was the last day of my girls trip before heading home to reality and colder temperatures. My flight was in the late afternoon, and The Manager was getting back into town around mid-day. We arranged to meet at a hotel near mine,…

Quit This.

I want to push boundaries. Mostly my own, But yours, too. A child with a lens Tilted just so in the sun, I’ll watch as you squirm, Trying to evade My beam of intrusion. I want to demolish walls. Mostly my own, But yours, too. Hands on the controls, Mad gleam in my eye, As…

The Waiting is The Hardest Part

Without a doubt, my worst quality is my impatience. Not when it comes to lines or restaurants or events, necessarily, but primarily with other people. When I reach a place of realization or decision-making, I get fidgety when others don’t match my pace. My impatience manifests as my attempting to push or pull people along…

Once Bitten, Twice Shy

Time for an update. I know things have been a bit glum here lately, but life is generally a grab bag of exultant and heart-wrenching, and my life is no exception, so here goes… I’ve seen The Leo twice recently. While I’ve been working through the fallout from my complicated feelings toward The Voyeur, I’ve…

Early Mourning Thoughts

Things have been challenging between The Voyeur and me for the past three weeks. First, the declaration of love (mine) delivered via blog, next the distress and confusion (his), then the relative calm and distinct awkwardness that resulted from our failure to reach a resolution. In my impatience to find the elusive tidy solution that…

Happily Narrowing the Field

Want to know what bothers me about this meme (aside from the misplaced modifier)? It implies that because we’ve been hurt or rejected by previous partners, we are now damaged goods. To think of oneself as “goods” at all is a bit problematic, but to assume the label of “damaged” strikes a nerve with me….

Get Comfortable With Uncomfortable

My anger isn’t anger. It’s love, Marinated in disappointment, Wrapped in upset, and Drizzled with exasperation. My sadness isn’t sadness. It’s love, Steeped in anxiety, Blended with fear, and Garnished with hurt. My sad-angry-love isn’t peaceful, A tangled heap of conflict I hold with open palms. Breathe in, breathe out. Get comfortable With uncomfortable.  

Coffee’s On Me

9am Monday morning, I’m at work when my phone buzzes. It’s a text notification that I’ve just received $5 from The Stoner. I do a double take, then mutter “what the hell?” under my breath. I wait for a message from him, explaining the money but none comes. So I text him, “feeling generous?” He…

Footnotes, Part 2

You may remember back in September when I wrote about being assaulted in a nightclub. I kept the account pretty brief because I wanted to focus on The Knight, but now that I’ve wrapped up the forty, it’s probably time to unpack what happened. I was bored one Wednesday night, and my kids were with…