Ah, growing up. In every young woman's life, there comes a time when she must become acquainted with the special lady doctor: the gynecologist.
I am not photogenic. Not at all. The majority of my tagged photos on Facebook have me half-blinking one eye, slightly resembling the face people make before they sneeze.
Sometimes you can manage to be friends with an ex. For example, I'm really good friends with an ex of mine and it's not weird at all. And then sometimes there are those exes where you want it to be weird because maybe they're a little bit into you still, and you're not feeling it.
If I am going to commit to a relationship, I have to be convinced we can make it last. Is it too much to ask for a guy who is kind and makes me laugh? (And who accepts me and my quirks?) I don't think I lack confidence and I don't think I'm hideous looking. I think my problem is I don't know how to act and talk to guys.
Welcome home for Thanksgiving! Where the lines at the bar are ridiculous, the drinks can’t come fast enough, and while you think it’s deja vu you’ve got going on – you actually ARE having the same 3-minute conversation with blasts from your not-so-distant past over and over and over.
Our friends over at The Gloss recently did a post on all the things they don’t miss about being in their twenties. But as a twenty-something myself, I’ve gotta say - I’m pretty content. Sure, there are moments I wish I had a little more cash or that my job was a bit cushier. But some of their points were reminiscent of things I realized in my teens.
So you’re going to college. You got your GPA up and your admissions essay down, you got in, and now you’re out! Happy times are here. Your final days are characterized by blasting Lil' Wayne with the sunroof open and going to lunch with the people with whom you’ve spent the last four, eight, or even 12 years of your life in school.
Yesterday was a busy day for me. I worked, I went to the dentist (and discovered I have 2 cavities….awesome), I worked out, and then I came home to settle in and watch a little Bachelor Pad (though, my friends all thought I was working more; I don’t need to hear their judgments about how I spend my evenings).
This past Halloween my friends and I decided to put on our costumes early and head over to a bar to watch some college football. Fast forward to 3pm: I'm drunk, dressed up as Rainbow Bright and smoking cigarettes on the street while my male friend jokingly shoved his hand up my skirt. Nothing too out of the ordinary...until a business associate happened to walk by. And recognize me.
I am quite possibly the least athletic person you will ever meet. When I was 12, my mother asked me not to run in public. “It’s embarrassing,” she said. “There’s something about the way you run that’s just…weird.”
Like most people, the years I spent with little metal boxes cemented to my teeth weren't exactly my best. Not only did those years coincide with my awkward phase (no coincidence there), but my braces also hurt like crazy. And I'm pretty sure I spent 50% of my time in the bathroom picking food shrapnel out of my teeth.
Back when Matt and I were first dating freshman year, it came time for us to register for our next semester's classes. He and I both wanted to take Japanese as our foreign language, but agreed that it'd be better off if we took it at different times. He thought I'd be a distraction, and I didn't want to compete with him over grades.