I was finishing college when I met my husband, Jason*, a carefree, polite Australian with dreamy blue eyes and shaggy brown hair who was on an extended working holiday. The attraction to his laissez faire personality and quirky accent was arguably a naive American girl’s knee-jerk reaction to a breakup with a controlling and insecure Brit. Yet, it is undeniable that our romance was of Hollywood screenwriting caliber. Set in the picturesque town of St. Andrews, Scotland — ironically at the same time and place where Prince William courted Duchess Catherine — I allowed this delicious Aussie, four years my senior, to sweep me off my feet. We strolled hand-in-hand through ruins on the beaches that lined the North Sea, snuck kisses in-between pints at our favourite pubs on Sunday afternoons, and celebrated my graduation from St. Andrews University in the company of my entire family, who embraced him immediately. I knew he was a keeper when he broke into the Royal and Ancient Golf Club where he worked to show me the grandiose dining room, which had banned women patrons centuries ago.
Nonetheless, reality always finds a way to spoil the fairytale. Soon after graduation, I returned to my parents’ house in Connecticut and Jason returned to his native Australia. While most flings abroad are retired, Jason and I couldn’t shake the feeling that we might be soul mates. We agreed to take a stab at our fledging union and if it didn’t work, we would walk away with dignity and respect knowing that we tried our best. Thus began a journey that far outweighed the rarity of our early beginnings as Jason and B.B. Truly, what was most unforeseen was not the juggling of the typical long-distance relationship, but where this brand of relationship took us and the questions we inevitably had to answer. Keep reading »
I found this graffiti on a building in my neighborhood over the weekend. I wonder, does Dave live there? Or was Dave’s girlfriend just trying to work out her relationship problems out loud, on the side of a building? Most of us just change our Facebook statuses… Keep reading »
Virgo (August 23 – September 22)
Ease up on the pressure and let yourself cruise. If you stay chill, answers from within will come and the comfort of a Queen will be yours. It can’t be all work and no play now, as that’s obviously a recipe for disaster. Trust in fate; understand that drama doesn’t have to follow you everywhere you go and growing doesn’t always involve pain. Sometimes, destiny can be fun. Keep reading »
If you’re a single college girl, chances are you have had a “what was I thinking” hook-up. Thanks to liquor, hormones, and the bad decisions of myself and my friends, I’ve been witness to more than a few. Here’s a list of the most common…and awkward. My sincerest apologies if I resurface any unpleasant memories.
1. The Floormate/Neighbor: Floorcest, as it has been deemed, is the college equivalent of sleeping with a coworker. Not only is it hard to avoid the dude, but you probably have mutual friends, floormates, and neighbors just waiting to call you both out. In rare cases it does work out (two of my neighbors have been dating for months!) but 99% of the time, that one night results in a whole semester or two of awkward. Read more… Keep reading »
If you’re having trouble finding that special person to love or even just have some fun with, you may need to examine how you act on a first date. A first date is generally the deciding factor of whether a person is disgusted or intrigued by you. Here are some things that you may be doing wrong:
1. Talking about your ex. No one wants to hear about your horrible breakup or lingering communication with the guy or girl you dated for the past five years. Opening up about your ex is fine down the road – during the obligatory “tell me about your past loves” talk that boyfriends and girlfriends have – but blurting it all out on the first date just signals emotional baggage. If you’re not over your ex, don’t attempt dating until you’ve seen a therapist. Keep reading »