This is exactly how I want to meet my future lova when I’m in library school.
Tag Archives: relationships
I’ve had some real successes with my New Year’s Resolutions. In 2013 I vowed to put on lipstick before walking out the door, and in 2014 I pledged to wear jewelry every day. Sure, I really only followed through about 6 months of the year, but the results were worth it. Now I consciously try to remember to put on jewelry and I don’t buy anything new without a good reason, because I’m very aware of what I already own. I LOVE to wear lipstick, even though I’ve only been wearing it for ‘special occasions’ as of late.
For my 2015 resolution I’ve decided on wearing nail polish. And not just apply it and let it ride until it falls off. I am definitely hard on my nails at my part-time job, but I’m going to try and keep it legit. I have over 30 colors, so it should help me use what I’ve bought. We’ll see how I do, though. My first bottle to tackle is this super-quick drying metallic, Chop Chop Copper.
But what would be my most achievable 2015 resolution? Stay single. I can’t break that even when I’m dating. But it’s too easy. Like giving up sex for Lent. Isn’t a resolution supposed to be something you actively work on? I guess I’ll stick with beauty products.
Tonight, Jess and I talked about memorable first kisses. It’s an appropriate topic, given our conversation of babies and weddings and relationships. What a throwback! It’s something I haven’t thought of or talked about in a long time–probably since I last blogged in 2012 about the first first kiss. I don’t remember all the first kisses, and there are some I know but don’t actually remember, like a drunken bar scene and a college dorm and a shitty car, but there are a few that are very distinct memories.
- the first-ever-liplock on a trampoline in winter
- a grab-the-arm-from-behind-you-and-spin-you-around sneak attack
- a why-did-you-decide-to-kiss-me-all-of-a-sudden smooching
- a midnight-new-year’s-eve lip-biting kiss
- a we’ve-been-together-all-night-and-I’m-telling-you-that-at-4:16-I’m-kissing-you playful beginning
- a dramatic-in-the-slow-falling-rain cinematic kiss
Some of these are more notable due to location, others to the person, and others just to the circumstance. It’s almost odd to me what I don’t remember, and what I do, and what I’m possibly (probably) not recalling at all. Who have I kissed that’s so forgettable? Or what even constitutes counting toward this list? The drunk friend outside the bar one night? I don’t consider that a first kiss. Does “first kiss” imply more kisses eventually following? Maybe that’s why I don’t list the last one.
There’s also another major first kiss not on that list, that I do remember so very well (especially for how drunk I was). It was a first-last-kiss, the beginning of the end, startled and unforeseen, as a sunday-night-apartment-entry-trip-down-memory-lane-turned-sob-fest-turned-first-confession-of-love-turned-first-last-kiss. It was wet with tears and raw with more emotion than I’ve ever expressed in my life. I don’t question why I remember it.
What about other relationship firsts? We talk about THE first time, and THE first kiss, but the other firsts often don’t come out until wedding showers. What about first dates, first flirting/come on, sexing, sexting, gifts, first time having “to talk” or first time saying “I love you”? I remember so very few of those things. Although, I think, partially because I don’t have that many firsts. You can have a first kiss, sure, but that doesn’t promise recollection, and it certainly doesn’t secure a first date, or gift, or opportunity at love. I want more firsts, while I’m still young enough to have and remember them. And before someone ties me down and the first turn into “our first” or “baby’s first.” ::shudder::
-1 tell her she looks like she likes anal
-2 tell her she has the same name as your ex wife
-3 tell her, that way, it won’t matter if you call out her name
-4 tell her the librarian look with glasses made you pop a boner, right there, right then.
#KristinaChristina #TheyAllFindMe #ReasonsImSingle
Occasionally, I remember Brand New and the music I loved in high school. Sure, I’ve had friendships and relationships end in heartbreak, despair, disappointment, and disbelief: a burning mass of heart and feelings. But as bad as I was, I don’t think I’ve ever wished this upon their asses.
Is that what you call a getaway?
Tell me what you got away with,
‘Cause I’ve seen more spine in jellyfish.
I’ve seen more guts in eleven-year-old kids.
Have another drink and drive yourself home –
I hope there’s ice on all the roads,
And you can think of me when you forget your seatbelt,
And again when your head goes through the windshield.
-Seventy Times Seven
Hah. So bad, so good. That’s cruel.
This year, I’m invited back to my first class reunion at Drake. I couldn’t possibly have graduated five years ago, but apparently, I did. That same glorious time-o-year is the five year mark of my single status. The death of my last relationship. (Well, official, Facebook-removal of said relationship, anyway.)
I tended to be secretly optimistic about the whole thing. While pining for the last guy, and claiming total and utter desperation and willingness to settle, I secretly believed I was, indeed, going to get somebody better.
::cue John Mayer’s Another You::
Yeah, girl! You don’t need him! And you don’t need any man! But you’ll get one, no problem! He’s going to be so much hotter and nicer to you than any of those past guys! You deserve more and you’re going to get it! Your ex will be so jealous and you won’t even care! He’ll be so sexy and smart and…
I mean that’s what girls tell each other and that’s what we’re trying to believe, right? And when you reach that point where you recognize there were problems and reasons it didn’t work out, you start to believe it’s true. There really is someone better for you!
And the longer you wait the better he becomes.
But then it’s five years later and you’re still single and reality is a bitch.
Happy Valentine’s Day.
If there’s anything my trip abroad (and last year of my life, actually) has taught me, it’s that my 007 tattoo is a golden ticket to finding that wealthy silver fox I want to marry for his money and sexy man maturity and money. For reals, this thing attracts the older dudes (ages 40 to 83) more than a low-cut shirt and short skirt!
Jerry: Sorry, Dave, but boobs aren’t free, you know that.
Dave: What I’m saying is I’m sick of spending so much money on them.
So get a girlfriend.
Look, if you’re not going to talk sensibly I don’t even want to discuss it.
Dave, girlfriends let you see their boobs for free. I’ve been told.
Dude, that’s the oldest lie in the book.
There’s a book?
Yes, Jerry, it’s called the book of lies. The first chapter is: “If you get a girlfriend you get to see her boobs for free.”
Wait, you don’t?
Hello no, dude. Girlfriends make you pay in emotional costs. You may not have to fork over money but you gotta ask them questions like, um, “How are you?” and “What you’re doing?” and “Does this hurt?” and “Did you forget to take your pill?” and stuff like that. It’s horrible.
I’m unsure if this is better (worse?) than the start to last semester, but I’ll take it.