Excuse me while I wander around the lovely landscape of cloud nine, because I had the best sex of my life this weekend and I’m still up here enjoying the high.
So, let’s bring it back a week. After my grandma passed away, my communications with Baby Face became more and more frequent. Before our date/catchup/death dinner we’d text each other a few times a day to flirt and shoot the shit, but since then things have certainly accelerated. We chat in the morning on our commutes in to work, briefly throughout the day via text, and almost always in the evening before bed (sometimes there’s even an actual phone call, which I love). Mid-last week, Baby Face asked me if I wanted to go out with him and a couple of our old college friends on Friday night after work, but I’d already made plans with some of my girlfriends. We decided to compromise and hang out with our respective pals individually, and then meet up later in the night, with or without the others. Keep reading »
Working with someone that you’re dating takes a special kind of mental and emotional fortitude, the ability to keep two parts of your life distinct, with clear boundaries. It’s hard in the modern workplace. We spend so much time at work, and workplaces are getting more and more casual, making the boundaries shifting and fluid. The temptation to let your relationship bleed over into your daily grind is easy, but if you’re a nice, kind person, you should do your absolute best to avoid this. It’s cool that you’ve found someone that you want to spend time with outside of the office as well as in staff meetings and at weird company lunches. That’s a special thing, so cherish it. In the words of RuPaul, “Don’t fuck it up.” Here are some helpful guidelines for how to comport yourself when you’re dating someone you work with. Keep reading »
I’m not going to lie, male friendship is a mystifying thing to me. Whenever I overhear dude friends having really personal conversations, I feel like I’m hiding behind a bush observing a unicorn. Most of my best friends have been guys, and specifically straight guys, but our friendships have always taken on a different tenor than their friendships with each other. Like, I know that guys can be kind of vulnerable with each other, but again, only because I’ve overheard it, not because they’re publicly open about it in the way that women are — really, are allowed to be. Keep reading »
I’ve had anxiety and depression for years, long before I started therapy and began taking medication under the advisement of a psychiatrist. I look back at my teenage and college years and see glaring signs that I was unhappy but didn’t know how to put it into words that anyone, including myself, could understand. Mental illness runs in my family, the most notable example being my dad, who died nearly two years ago from drug addiction, something that developed as a “coping” mechanism for his untreated mental health issues, if you ask me. I’ve taken my mental health very seriously as a result, as I’ve seen far too tragically what can happen if you don’t. I’ve been seeing the same bad ass therapist for eight years now and my prescription for Lexapro, an anxiety-focused anti-depressant, has helped clear the fog so that I can delve deep into the exacerbating issues. I think I’ve made an extraordinary amount of progress in that regard, though I’ve come to accept that a dull, ever-present level of sadness might always reside within me. In some ways, I’ve been oddly okay with that. As an extremely sensitive person, I don’t know that it would be physically/mentally possible for me to exist in this world, with all its terribleness, and feel completely happy. To me, the pursuit of total happiness is a blind one — to actually achieve it, you’d have to be just that. Blind.
With that said, I know enough about my brain chemistry to be aware of when I’m feeling an unhappiness that is outside the realm of what I consider normal. And for the last, oh, eight months to a year, it has become increasingly abnormal. Keep reading »
October is officially here, which means it’s time to break out the horror flicks, the costumes, the pumpkins and of course, your scary movie collection. Scary movies are just better in October. You can curl up with a blanket (because it’s perfect blanket weather), a pumpkin pie and a little Norman Bates ,and that is an ideal night. Plus there are 31 nights to scare yourself!
However, there are many things that horror movies do for us besides terrify us and force us to sleep with one eye open (and sometimes even a light on). Scary movies can actually teach us many things. They teach us that locking yourself in a room when the murderer is in a house is really stupid, and they also show you not to investigate a scary situation. (Seriously! Why do they all want to explore the basements and the attics?! No thanks.) Read more on YourTango.com…
Yesterday, while I was getting ready to go to CostCo with my boyfriend, Michael, I told him a story a friend had told me about how much her dad hated her grandfather. I said, “I wonder what it’s like to have parents who you really deep-down hate.” Then I paused and thought about it, and said, “Well, I hated my in-laws.”
And for the first time in the last two years, I felt a sudden and very real sense of dissonance in saying that. I felt too young to say something like “I hated my in-laws,” in the past tense; as in, I had in-laws. As in, in my life, I have had in-laws, but now, I do not have in-laws. Keep reading »