A Month Hiatus

Apparently I took a hiatus from blogging without knowing. Today marks 30 days since my last post, which to my knowledge, I have never done before. Apparently I was feeling uninspired. Or rather, I felt compelled to think more than write. But I’m back. And ready to rant and rave about all the relationship fixins that drive me crazy and keep my hungry for more. It’s a sick, sad world when your single, and even sicker/sadder when your taken. 😉

So what do I want to talk about after 30 days of silence? Something very big. VERY, VERY big.

As of this weekend I will no longer be 25.

26 is rearing it’s ugly head, and when I say ugly I really mean sexy. 26 is going to be sexy. I can feel it. It’s one letter off, six. sex. six. See? 26 doesn’t need reasons why it’s the shiat. It knows it is and just saying it makes it enough.

So who is going to be 25 single white female? I still am. Mostly because I bought the domain name, and I’m not really single anymore (unless I fill out a government form, and I still am)…so whatever, it’s all a mess. That’s the way I like it.

Speaking of the way I like it…some things are cookin’ in the proverbial kitchen but I can’t quite talk about them yet. Just let it be known, some serious changes may be coming down the way. And (as always) I will be taking you all with me. And hopefully Mr. M, too. 😀

Yours waiting on an email,


She’s listening

…the universe, that is. She’s listening to you. Some people would call it God or some other spiritual entity. But I believe she, the universe, is listening as well. If you aren’t saying anything to her then that’s exactly what she’s going to deliver.

I know this sounds “SECRET”esque or something. I guess that’s because it kind of is.

I’m not saying that you can just blurt out “I want to win a million dollars” and voila there’s your pile of cash. Well, actually, that’s exactly what I’m saying.

I don’t know how a million dollars works, but I do know that everything I have ever asked for (and believed that I deserved) I have received. That probably sounds really strange, but this kind of was just brought to my attention recently when I was asked to teach several video classes. I realized that last summer, exactly one year ago, I told myself that was a goal of mine. I wanted to teach video classes to young people. I didn’t know how it would happen. And when I tried to set something up, it fell through. But I really, really wanted it. This year, however, I taught 3 video classes in the matter of a few weeks. I was slightly overwhelmed at the time, but I had asked for it. I was so grateful and the classes were everything I had hoped for.

Then I started thinking back to all of the things I have in my life, and how they got there. I have literally asked for them all. Every single one of them. From a friend that lives close by that I can cook dinner with, to a guy that treats me like I always dreamed about. My job even. The projects I’m working on. I’ve asked for this all. Writing this blog. Writing even at all. My new car. These were all dreams at one point. Daydreams, mostly, of who I wanted to be and what I wanted my life to be like.

Just when you think you don’t know how it’s going to all work out. It always does. No matter how twisted and jumbled up everything seems at the time, somehow it always untangles itself. But you have to have dreams. Goals. Ambitions. Whatever you want to call it, it doesn’t matter. It’s all the same thing…it’s all who we want to be.

Our minds are much more powerful than we give them credit for. There is a cliche quote, “You are what you think.” SO TRUE. It all starts with a thought. And literally as I just wrote that sentence I glanced over and sitting next to my laptop is a notepad at my 2nd job that reads “Everything you do starts with a thought–start thinking!” Really, universe? You creep me out sometimes. And as a side note (ha! pun not intended at first, but then after I re-read this, I definitely intend to keep that), this 2nd job I’m working as we speak is also something I asked for; an easy 2nd job to help cover the tight months and save money for New York. Not only is the easiest job ever, it covers my gym membership every month and it’s a stones throw away from where I live. Thanks, Universe.

This idea of asking for what you want is nothing new, obviously. Some people call it praying. Others call it positive affirmations. I truly feel like someone or something is looking out for me. Especially with the last year of hellaciousness, something kept me on track. Something kept me safe. And something guided me to where I am now. Happier than I could have ever imagined. More successful than I could have imagined. More of a lot of things than I could have imagined. But they all started with a wish.

If you don’t understand why something is happening, be patient. And know that she’s always listening. All you have to do is ask. So start asking. What’s the worse that could happen?

Yours being careful what she wishes for,



It’s May 20th, my dear friends. And I recently found out that (apparently) The Rapture is tomorrow. But that’s not what we are here to talk about…but at least I made it to my Vow in time. Otherwise, wow, to be tormented for five months, as predicted via The Rapture, at the end of a six month self-torment (aka The Vow) would just be a real doozy.

So what does May 20th mean? Well, there’s this Vow thing I embarked upon six months ago. It was my way of protecting my pants and my heart. And it worked. Some of my friends criticized my sexless sabbatical, but I don’t regret it one bit.

I can’t say that I reached my May 20th goal, entirely. But I will say that the past 20 days have been gloriously warm. And I’m so happy about the change in temp. And it may just be a coincidence, but I’d like to think that the fact that The Vow coincides with the time of the year when the whole world warms up and begins to bloom, makes it just that more special. Oh, Spring…I’m ready for my love affair.

And it’s already begun…this morning I woke up and there was Mr. M holding me while thunder shook the walls and rain raged on outside. It was the perfect way to wake up to May 20th.

Yours taking the day off work for obvious reasons (like to catch up on some errands…geez, what were you thinking?),


I don’t want to break your heart

What does it mean when someone says, “I don’t want to break your heart”?

Ugh. This is what’s bothering me. I’m not sure how I should take this. I’m not sure what I will do with it. But I know I do need to clarify, but having patience is a virtue right now. My naturally inclined impatient self wants to call Mr. M right now and tell him that our conversation tonight really confused me and made me feel weird.

I brought it all up; I wanted to talk about the fact that although we are not in a relationship I just want to solely date him, or be with him. Monogamy is what I sought to clarify–just to put it out there that I’m not looking for anyone else and not talking to anyone else. His response to this was basically that he felt the same way, but because he is possibly moving (who knows where or when) he can’t be fully committed to me. He also said he doesn’t want to lead me on. It probably didn’t help that I brought this up in a phone conversation, but I’ve been so sick lately and tonight I didn’t want to go out but it was weighing on my mind. I guess I didn’t realize that he wanted to have a conversation about our future, which really was about our lack of one.

And the funny thing is, I can’t be fully committed to him either. I still need time to ease into this. Process things. But why do I feel like I’ve just been broken up with? Why do I feel like I was just rejected? I didn’t know if I would be in a relationship with him in the future or not, but that’s where it felt like this was going…and really the hope was all I needed to feel secure. I want to go back to the Land of La-La.

Now it feels hopeless. I am not the girl that you just have fun with. I am not the girl who you can fuck and leave. I am not the girl who just goes along with it. I am just not. So what does that make me in this?

If there is no hope for anything, why try?

Tomorrow I plan on bringing it up again and telling him the things he said felt really weird to me, and not like the Mr. M that I’ve seen over the past couple of months…the Mr. M that treats me like a “girlfriend”…but (apparently) wants to have nothing to do with one.

And honestly, I can’t be dicked around. If he’s pulling away from me, and not that into me anymore…I have to know. It would suck, but I have to know.

And here are some tips for your next relationship, or possibly your current one. Just a thought, but maybe these are some things you may not want to say to someone if you truly care about them:

“I don’t know how to gently say that I like you and I enjoy our time together but I can’t fully be committed to you.”

“I don’t want to lead you on.”

“I don’t want to break your heart.”

And this goes without saying, but this is just my side of the story. That’s why I’m sitting around writing about it, thinking about it. I want to tell him all of this tomorrow, and see if I totally missed the boat on everything he was saying. Also, as another side note and a bit more context to this post, the past couple of weeks have been wild. I have been super sick. I ran a marathon in the rain, hail and 40 degree weather, and I’m overall just feeling burnt out. And as my friend brought up, my natural endorphin release has been majorly curbed since I have stopped running. I think all of this is contributing to my sense of confusion about the Mr. M situation. Time to sit around and think has never really been very productive for me.

Yours asking a lot whys tonight,


Motherfuckin’ orange Honda Element

This is how I feel.

Fuck the Honda Element and (especially) fuck the orange one.


Fuck you, ugly car!

My loathing of a silly car may seemingly come from nowhere, but I assure you there is a reason.

MF drives this car. And while I am currently uber happy and moving on with Mr. M in my life… I can’t help it, I STILL feel this way when I see his car.

I have always thought the car of the box-kind variety was ugly. Just trashy and unthoughtful. When I found out that MF drove one, I literally said, “Oh. One of those box cars?”

We used MF’s car to do a lot of things. As in most relationships, there were a lot of memories made in that car. When we went on trips he would often make me drive longer than him and it would hurt my butt. It looks about as comfortable as it is. Sitting on a box for 9 hours is not ideal. We endured the Hail Storm of 2010 in that car; where he blamed me for not checking the weather and therefore being the reason why we got caught in the weather.

It was also in that car where he first told me to “just be happy” and to let it go when I asked him why he purposefully slammed a door in my face. I asked him to apologize to me, and he responded that he doesn’t take requests. There were good memories made in that car too, of course, but who the fuck cares when you are (overall) dating a Mind Fuck. Even the nice stuff is part of the mind fucking, so it’s really not so nice after all.

Ever since the MF break-up back in September, when I see the orange Honda Element, I cringe. How many people really have this ugly car? A LOT, actually. Or at least, because I notice it I notice it. The thing is orange and ugly, so you really can’t miss it. And every time I do see it I immediately think, “Is it MF?” There’s even one that sits outside my bedroom window all day and all night. I’ve seen it move once in the past 4 months. I think it’s taunting me.

car outside of my window

Doesn't it look like it's taunting me? Fucker.

But this car hatred (which obviously really is just a physical reminder of a painful time in my life) came to a head the other day when I ran an errand on my lunch at work. I saw the orange box of shit at a place MF would more than likely be. I was instantly anxious. But I pushed it out of my mind. After running the errand I parked my car and was walking across a street fairly close to the previously mentioned orange box siting. I stood their waiting for the light to change so I could cross the street and get back to work. That’s when I saw it.

I was for sure it was him. He was three cars away from the light where I was standing. I caught myself holding my breath. It was the longest light ever. He was about to be right next to me. I should have worn something nice today. My face is all broken out. I’m alone. I wish I was walking with someone, laughing and having fun.

The orange crept into my view. I peaked. I looked across the street in a Rico Suave move to see if it actually was him. As I glanced across the street, there it was…the car was right in front of me.


Inside, a busted looking old leathery white haired man stared back at me.

HA! I literally laughed out loud. I crossed the street and as I walked back to work I felt a sense of relief. I had just scared myself out of being scared. And then I wrote this story down while in traffic, surrounded by cars (don’t worry, I wasn’t moving), and I laughed some more. And writing it now, again, and having you lovely readers read it, makes me feel even better about this piece of shit car. How glorious it is to talk about things and then be able to conquer them.

Yours conquering one ugly piece of shit orange Honda Element at a time,