Wow, what a crazy past few months. I believe I cared for myself pretty well after my big breakup, which was now almost four months ago. I surrounded myself with my family, which was easy because I moved back in with my parents. I spent a lot of QT with my girl friends. I drank and shopped and watched crappy TV shows, as you do. When I felt ready to poke my head out of my hole and venture out on dates again, I splurged on a couple pairs of sexy heels. I kept myself busy buying furniture for my new apartment, being a good sister and friend, doing my taxes — anything I could think of.
Now I’m all moved into my new place. I go on dates with a new guy, casually, once or twice a week. After months of tiny tornadeos wrecking havoc on the blessed life I had six months ago, outward appearances look like the dust has finally settled.
Inside? That’s a different story. Keep reading »
As I write this, the floating concrete mall known as Manhattan is experiencing a “wintery mix,” which is what happens when Old Man Winter has food poisoning. Walking to work this morning I got snow up my nose, elbowed in the fat wings by a grumpy Hobbit wrapped in scarves waiting for the subway, and went ankle deep in an enchanted ice puddle. It had to be enchanted, because I’m sure it laughed at me as I cursed. As a little kid, I was certain that snow was just God shaking a giant powdered donut over my house, but now that I am older, I know that snow is just Death’s dandruff. The winter is only enjoyed by Vikings, Tauntauns and people in relationships. Keep reading »
“The scrutiny. And the microscope. Obviously it’s a blessing — the women and the money and the fame, but at the same time it’s — it’s actually very lonely. Very lonely. When you’re doing so well, when you have the year that I had, it’s hard to talk to people about it, because they think you’re being cocky. Plus, when it comes to women, you know, obviously, they’re throwing themselves at you — but for what reasons, you know what I mean?”
—Mike “The Situation” Sorrentino reflects on the downsides of fame to GQ. Someone give the man a hug. Though he’d probably prefer a smush. [PopEater] Keep reading »
I spotted Brown Eyes across the street, leaning against a wall outside the restaurant. He looked adorable in his thick scarf, fiddling with his iPod. As I walked up, he smiled and greeted me with a sweet kiss on the lips. It was the kind of hello we’ve never given each other before—after all, for the past two years we’ve been just friends. “This date is gonna be good,” I thought.
Cut to an hour and a half later. Keep reading »
Recently, during a weekly therapy session, my doc and I were doing our thing, talkin’ ’bout boys, my frustration with the ones I have met, and my recent relapse into dreaming about my ex; I was telling her that sometimes, despite being a relatively solitary person who enjoys time alone, I get overwhelmed with loneliness. I miss something I don’t have anymore, that feeling of deep companionship.
It’s something we’ve talked about often in the last year and a half since my biggie breakup; during that time, as my loneliness and grief waxed and waned, my career has thrived. The Frisky has become more successful than I dared to have dreamed when we first started it and I’m noodling with the idea of writing a book; both work and personal projects keep me busy and sometimes I feel like I need to pinch myself to confirm that my professional aspirations have been met with truly thrilling results. Keep reading »