Confession time: I’m an introvert. It goes deep. I can’t stand parties. Gatherings of more than four people (myself included) terrify me. I don’t like to pick up the phone. I’d be absolutely fine if I didn’t talk to anyone for days at a time.

So on most weekends when all of you are out clubbing or hitting up the bar while hitting on hot guys, I’m curled up on my couch in my pajamas, watching the Olympics or reading a really dorky book and eating a cookie (or three).

It doesn’t bother me. In fact, I LOVE it.

Perhaps you’re intrigued by my reclusive lifestyle. Maybe you even want to take your own Introventure on an upcoming Saturday night, but you’re just not sure how to even begin. Well, you’re in luck! Look no further than this handy-dandy…

Introvert’s Guide to a Saturday Night in: Read More »

Dudes prefer a size 10

Really? He’s still alive? I could have sworn he was long gone. …Or maybe I was just wishing.

Cheap drugs in Mexico? Not anymore

Screetch to write a Tell All. Seriously.

Straight up weird: identical everything.

The Billionaires want you to STOP SMOKING

Jason’s baaacck!

…And so is Freddy (Which means both my toolshed and my dreams are no longer safe)

Dana Scully kicks ass

50 Cent don’t play, Taco Bell!

Oh man, Zac Efron…how is this helping the gay rumors?

It seems like every time I have lunch with my mom, we have the following conversation:

MOM: (after a thoughtful silence) So…

ME: (while eating) Mmhmm?

MOM: So, is he….the one?

ME: (still eating, somewhat muffled) what?

MOM: Have you discussed the “M” word?

ME: (after a pause, uncomfortably) Well, I guess…

MOM: (bursts into tears)

She’s not crying because she doesn’t like my significant other, quite to the contrary. She is crying because she realizes that marriage is another step towards adulthood and away from any pretenses that I am still a virgin.

I get uncomfortable during this conversation not because I am uncomfortable at the prospect of marriage but because I’m uncomfortable with the pomp and circumstance implied by the whole dress-cake-church-crying parents to-do. A big wedding is something that popular culture tells us that women have been dreaming about since they were little girls, but every time I think about having to put all that time, money and effort into one day, I get unpleasantly itchy.

The truth is, I am sort of engaged, but I haven’t told my mom yet. I don’t want my huge southern family losing their collective sh*t or making a big thing out of it, I also really don’t want to have the you-don’t-need-a-grossly-expensive-ring-to-be-engaged conversation, but mostly I don’t want to have to deal with my mother’s shock and total dismay when I tell her about the wedding plans we’ve made (and I use the terms “wedding” “plans” and “made” very loosely).

We are eloping. To Oregon. To get married at a doughnut shop. Read More »