Over the past year, I’ve shared over 50 lessons that I’ve learned in my single life to remind you that being single is more than a table for one (even when you’re eating a meal portioned for two), or going dateless to you’re cousin’s wedding — it’s a way of life.

Here are my top 10 favorite rules to live by while you’re single:

initiating the gallery...

A few  years ago, if someone mentioned a self-help book around me I would have cringed… and laughed in their face. I didn’t understand how people could pay money for books that any idiot with a computer could write and try to pawn off as good, sound advice. However, in light of some recent events, my attitude about self-help books and the like has done a complete 180.

Not to say I’m a total self-help junkie now, but I am pretty shameless about the fact that I read – and believe in – the healing power of self-help books. (Okay, that sounded unnecessarily cheesy, but you catch my drift.)

So, even if you’ve never snuck a peak at the Self Help section in Barnes & Nobles (or are just too embarrassed to admit it),  here’s some of my faves & some others whose street cred is pretty great, as far as self-help books goes:

1. You Can Heal Your Life – Louise L. Hay. I just recently started reading this one myself and I’m in love. It’s intense and has caused quite a few life-changing epiphanies, and Hay will seriously stop at nothing to help you create your perfect life.

2. The Secret – Rhonda Byrne. The now uber-famous Law of Attraction is explained in this simple, visually appealing, tiny book. And when you don’t exactly have time to sit down & waft through an intense self-help workshop like you’d get from something like You Can Heal Your Life, The Secret will totally suffice. You can easily soak up a chapter between classes or use it as a study distraction. It’s more exciting than King Lear, I promise. Read More »

I’m all about the truth – truth in relationships, truth in politics, truth in what a girl is hiding underneath her undergarments. The act of stuffing should be exclusive to Santa Claus and Thanksgiving.

The Wonderbra was designed to make women feel better about their lack of rack by padding around their mini-rounds. How is that any better than me stuffing a sock around m’thing? It’s false advertising for sure; then again I truly feel for women who are only judged on the size of their womanhood.

It’s a Catch-22, this situation.

While I will never be able to crack the code that is the bosom – we must, we must, we must increase/decrease our bust - I do have a word of advice for any woman feeling down on their endowment: f*** it. Men who resemble pot-bellied pigs with receding hairlines have no right taking down to your tiny tits – especially when they have a tiny d*ck. Read More »

I may be a fashionista, but clothes remain an oddity to me. I gave up dressing for the male gender along time ago and now if I show off my tits it’s because I want to. And because I like my breasts, to me they are empowering.

I embraced the baby doll tent/trapeze dress for summer because for once it was a style that was breezy and light and dare I say it comfortable. I decided I’d stick it to the man (or men) who found the style unappealing. I liked it. And they showcased my legs, another of my favorite features. It allowed me to keep the ladies under wraps but let people go gaga over my gams.

All in all, I loved the shape of the summer dresses, or the fact that there wasn’t much shape to them at all.

But it all got me to thinking. In a way although we dress for ourselves, we do dress for others. And the other night I had a horrifying experience where in all of this shapely/shapeless controversy came to a head.

I was walking to the train from work, standing on a corner about to walk into Union Square. It was late and I was tired and talking to my boyfriend. That day I had worn an American Apparel strapless tube dress with a flouncy tunic to cover up the fact that the dress showed more curves than I was comfortable with.

So, I was showing off my shape, but still covering it up. And I had on my mother’s old cowboy boots, since I work at a Texas BBQ restaurant and its pretty much the only dress code requirement of a hostess. They also draw way more attention from men than I ever imagined—I get a “hey cowgirl” at least every other day. Read More »