Just kidding! (kinda)
Just kidding! (kinda)
Just kidding! (kinda)
I like this year better than last year.
Last year was uncertainty, and though that was exciting in its own way, I much prefer knowing.
I much prefer having you by my side in the morning, grumbling softly when my iphone alarm goes off for the 67th time.
I much prefer how even though I know you’re half asleep, you always smile at me when you open your eyes.
I much prefer going to brunch with your mom on a sunday and sending picture texts to your sister.
I live my weeks on a “fast forward til I can see you again setting.” And when I think about it, I have lived this way all year, from the very first time I met you.
Though I thought I had this thing all figured out before it becomes shockingly clear that I didn’t in the first place.
Last night before our date I went to get my hair blown out at a salon downtown. Wanted to make a little extra effort.
“Is this a special occasion” asked the stylist.
“It’s a little silly but my boyfriend and I are celebrating the anniversary of our first date.” I said, blushing because this is maybe the sort of thing 10th graders do.
“Awww!” She exclaimed, and I was relieved because it is always better to have a hair dresser endeared to you as opposed to reviled.
“How long have you been together?” she asked.
“Almost a year” I said, titling my head back into the shampoo sink.
“Awwww! That’s the best year!!” She said.
I wondered how she had the authority to know that. Because by my estimation that’s impossible. Sure its an exciting year, a happy year. But how could it possibly be the best? Things are constantly getting better.
Mav, I love you so much. Here’s to another 365 days!
I found this little rose gold opal necklace at my favorite store in Northampton, but after two wears the cheap chain broke. I found the replacement one on amazon and I’m so thrilled! My necklace collection is very small (aka three necklaces) so it’s nice to find something I love that’s also inexpensive.
Hey loves, Troy threw me a bone and wrote a hilarious guest post for me! Enjoy this comedic masterpiece 🙂
I’ve been having a problem as of late. It’s sort of impossible to explain to people and get any sort counsel, let alone any sympathy, because it is (and I totally understand that it is) completely ridiculous and a total NON-problem. But, I’m going to vent about it here any way. First let me preface this and say I like to think of myself as an adult who is a genuinely good person. I fully recognize that what I’m about to write here, in the scope of everything that goes on in my own life, and in the world for that matter, is trivial. Maybe the very definition of trivial. Synonymous to frivolous. I get that. So for those of you who don’t know me, I do have substance and care about orphans and try and call my grandma as much as I can. All of that being said-
Lots of boys want to date me, guys. And it’s really hard. Because this past year I was broken up with THREE times. As in three strikes you’re out. As in three is the least magic number. Like, if this were Sesame Street, I would be a sad Muppet and when you asked the Count how many times someone told me I was the perfect boyfriend but didn’t want me ANYWAY he would throw his head back and reply
ONE AH AH AHHHH
TWO AH AH AHHHH
So I bet you’re asking yourself “Troy, what the deuce? You just said you were swatting boys away? Is this some Alanis Morissette ironic shit?”
The answer is sadly, no.
Because after these three breakups I thought to myself, well, maybe I should just spend some time figuring myself out and stay away from those pesky boys that keep getting under my skin. And after an unfortunate experience with a boy very aggressively asking me out after I said I wasn’t in a place to date right now, my icy heart fully callused and I put those magic words into the ether for the universe to hear- “I am done with dating”
Maybe if I left it at that, the universe would have let me just be a sad hermit. But no. I HAD to take it to the extreme. I started telling people that I took a vow of chastity. I told people I was chaste. And you know what the universe did?
The universe cock slapped me.
Because now, all of the sudden, there are these five boys. FIVE of them. And they all want to have sex with me. And you know what? I don’t have many gay friends. And you know what else? I would like to, because camaraderie is nice. The ONE gay friend I had in college I ended up dating for two and a half years, so I don’t really know what comes with the whole “getting to know you” phase in the beginnings of a gay friendship. And sometimes I get flirty vibes, and I ignore them, because I don’t know, maybe that’s just what it’s like to be friends with someone who happens to belong to the gender you’re attracted to? I say “Troy, not every gay guy who takes interest in you as a person wants to date you! You’re being conceited! Relax! You are a stupid bitch!”
I was proven wrong.
Because in the past 3 weeks. Every gay guy who has taken interest in me as a person has wanted to date me. So call me Beyonce, because I talk like this ‘cause I can back it up.
These are some great guys, and it’s not their fault that I’m cold and dead inside, but the fact is, I am, indeed, cold and dead inside. And I have told them that. Which would make me run away as fast as I can, but they’ve now accepted this as a challenge. These are their words, not mine. Which is, actually, the opposite of what I wanted to happen when I told the universe I was chaste. And yet, universe, I guess this is exactly what I deserve for tempting your kooky ways.
So pardon my first world, white gay male problems. Don’t cry for me, Argentina, I shall continue to awkwardly tap dance around and evade these male advances. And I only evade because firmly telling the truth, apparently, has not worked.
So until next time-
The Mav took this picture of me the other day.
It was sunday and it was a little chilly out and I had planned a brunch picnic for us at the pond near his new apartment. I had surprised him a bit by the whole “picnic” aspect of the morning and I felt all cute and romantic. He snapped a picture as I was spreading out the blanket and I threw my head back in what I imagined in my head looked like some 50’s pin up girl.
This was the result:
I saw the picture and for a split second I laughed. But then I cringed because immediately my brain did a mental inventory:
-upper arms that would suffocate a small child
-back fat in above and below bra band for aforementioned giant boobs.
It is endlessly tiring to think this way.
To be logically okay with my body and happy with how I look and still have these moments of sheer and utter illogical self loathing.
Sometimes I think to myself that I want to be like, a size 2 or something nuts.
Or, rather, I think that when I wake up in the morning my stomach looks so flat, but as the day goes on and I eat food my stomach no longer looks flat and wouldn’t it just be so nice if I didn’t have/want to eat? And then my stomach would be always flat?
Or wouldn’t it be nice if I had the energy to get up at 4 am to go to the gym before work/internship/school so that I too could be skinny like that acquaintance who moved to LA that I follow on instagram?
Or wouldn’t it be nice if I craved kale? Or bought kale? Or ever ingested kale, willingly?
I dunno yes.
But also no because food is good and cheese is so good and extra sleep in the am is motherfucking priceless.
But still. I find myself having these impulses. Mentally castigating myself in a poorly lit target dressing room because I can try on a pair of size 6 pants and they can totally fit and I can still scowl at myself and say it doesn’t look right. Because these thoughts are ludicrous.
And unflattering photos from your friends wedding will send you into a goshdarn tailspin I’ll tell ya.
1. Interning. This is the majority of my time suckage because it requires a lot of work and substantial amount of getting ready time at the ungodly hour of 5:30am.
2. Doing magical fall things. Like carving pumpkins, making roasted pumpkin seeds, walking through leaves and baking apple cakes.
3. Going to class which makes me want to cry razor blade tears. Class is just the worst ever. So long, so boring.
4. Painting my nails. I finally don’t suck at it yo!
5. Watching Seinfeld with my boofriend.
I seriously haven’t really had the time to write here. Still not ready to give up on my daily posting resolution. We keep chugging along.