A Positive Post for a Change… #TexasForever

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A lot of my time on this blog has been spent complaining about men. My inability in finding a fella I want to date, the fact that I’d rather spend time with my dog, how I don’t trust them, etc. The thing is, I know some very amazing men, and it’s about time I added a positive spin from my side of the world.

Last week my pal came up from Texas. He is the reason that I stayed in Austin when every fiber of my being wanted to give up on that town. Initially, finding my rhythm down there was tough. I was broken in more ways than one. A part of my heart was in love with him, but most of my heart was just so thankful to find a friend. I could lean on him. His friendship, and my ability to open up to him, is why I gave Austin a bit of myself. Without his friendship I wouldn’t have found my lifelong soul mates in that warm and delightful town.

Our friendship is a two way street. I know he trusts me. He tells me things and values my opinion. We write letters to each other and I find joy in psychoanalyzing him. He tells me about his lady troubles and I ask him why I can’t seem to find someone that takes my breath away. I have these brilliant men in my life who I carefully stack into the best friend category. People always raise their eyebrows and say, “well, you’re clearly in love with him.”

You’re right, I am 100% in love with him. But I don’t want to make him mine. Perhaps it’s out of fear of losing him. I have lost best friends by taking that plunge, and it hurts. A deep ache that I would like to avoid. Perhaps it’s because the friendship I have with him is so much more important to me. Or, it’s because I know that dating him would drive me up the fucking wall. He’s wonderfully imperfect, and as his friend I find all of it charming. If I were to date him? I’m fairly certain we’d kill each other. My anxious type A personality would drive him insane, and his ability to over analyze EVERYTHING would make me push him off of something tall.

Old co-workers have always hinted at how they thought we would have gotten together, little pushes towards how we should at least give it a try. But to me, this man is in the category of men that I trust unfailingly. Why oh why would I ever mess with that?

His place in my heart is to be the brilliant, trust worthy, two stepping, guitar playing hippie that I give copious amounts of shit to. I tell him my issues, and he tells me his. We drink beer and dance. We share life plans, big ideas, broken hearts, and the grand adventures we both want to explore.

And I trust him.

I trust him with my brain, my heart, my friendship… To me, that is enough.


I’m a Real Life Trainwreck (In a Charming Way, I Promise)

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I promised I would respond to Trainwreck as a follow up to L’s real and raw post about how this movie hit close to home. Let’s start with my girl Amy. I love that she is an intelligent, hilarious, kick ass feminist who speaks her mind. If you have yet to read her speech about sex and self love, stop reading this and go do that. It’s much more eloquent than any of the dribble I’m throwing down at the moment.

So yeah, I loved the movie. It was delightfully raunchy and you knew from the opening credits exactly how it was going to end, just like any good romantic comedy. Of course she was going to get scared and lose him, only to do some grand gesture to win him back. Also, her dance moves were impressive. I spent a long time trying to find this song so I could dance around my room to it, pretending I also know how to shimmy and shake.

I don’t think any woman can go into a rom com these days and leave with high hopes… Or maybe it’s just my very pessimistic heart? Dating is the fucking pits, and the online sphere only makes it worse. Y’all, L and I have been writing this blog for MONTHS, and I’m in an even worse place than when we started. Maybe I’m more like Amy than I thought? Let’s outline THIS trainwreck so I can pretend that I have something to write about that is relevant to dating.

  • My on- demand boyfriend. That’s still a thing. I haven’t seen him for a month(ish) and I’m okay with it. I adore the shit out of him and he’s my go-to for random adventures, but I’m still in the same place. I’m not going to fall deeply in love with him and make him my lobster. If that were the case, it would have happened already.
  • All those boys that hold pieces of my heart? They still have little bits of me. Strings that they pull to remind me that they are still very much camped out in there. They remind me that for awhile I wore vulnerability a little bit better, and let some other hearts waltz with mine. All of that romantic nonsense that allows you to let your guard down and rely on someone for a large chunk of your happiness.
  • I think I now have a profile on any and all dating websites, and haven’t gone on a single date for approximately 9 months. I have made plenty of dates and I have cancelled on every single one of them. Yes, I am that girl. There is just so much about online dating that makes me tired. I will pull any excuse, knowing that I would rather find my next partner by accident. All those memorable ones from my past? They started out as eye flutters turned to friendships turned to long letters turned to love. I wooed them slowly. Dropped sass and sarcasm, thick as honey, until there was nothing left to say but yes. And they did. And when we fell into it we already knew the way each other laughed. They already knew how I like to make big plans (learn the banjo, bike across the country, quit everything and travel for a year) and that I get scared when actually faced with change. I like to ease into love. It takes time to break down these walls, and when you do… Boy oh boy, do I know how to love.

  • My distrust… It’s only grown. I was recently in a very interesting situation where a fella and I were flirting and I once again dabbled in that terrible and treacherous world of being the “other” woman. It was harmless, or I assumed it to be, until a very dear friend pointed something out to me. Choosing her words as carefully as she could, she reminded me that making these plans with a boy who was very much taken would only make my distrust grow. How easy it is to woo men away from those things they claim to love! Don’t worry, I stopped flirting with such a terrible idea. Perhaps that’s the first step in learning how to trust again? Or perhaps karma is reminding me that I have acted the part of the other woman, and perhaps my defeated and callused heart just won’t warm up again. But that is far too depressing to think about, and I think I still have some hope left.

Man oh man, that list definitely makes me sound like a trainwreck. However, this post isn’t asking the internet world for a pity party. Like I’ve mentioned in almost every single one of my posts, my life is full of very beautiful things. My time is well spent with family, friends, and making future plans… All of these things that create a colorful and beautiful life. For now, that’s enough.

Not All Ladies Want Babies

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I believe how people think about adulthood is changing. When I was growing up, I just assumed my life would play out a certain way: I’d graduate from college, get married, and have kids. That was the model I anticipated, but that very obviously hasn’t been how things have played out. As a result, the way I think about my future has changed.

I still want to someday get married. I want to meet someone, fall in love, and vow to do my best not to fuck it up.  So while I still have that life-moment on my hopeful to-do list , my opinion on kids has definitely changed. I used to want three kids – I’d have a son and name him Patton because he’s my favorite WWII figure and have I mentioned the only thing I like more than writing is reading thick and dryly written history books? And my husband and my fictional children would be my life, because that’s the way I just assumed it would go.adams family

The older I get, the less likely that fictional life plan seems. I have a catalog of reasons I don’t think kids are part of my life plan anymore. I give myself permission to be selfish. I am the most impatient person you’ll ever encounter. I’m lazy. I like being alone more than anything else in the world – including writing or reading dryly written history books. I don’t want to have to budget for little Patton’s orthodontic treatment: I want that money to be spent on boots and sweaters and dresses and student loan payments. I want my life to revolve around myself, and maybe a guy if he makes me laugh.


And then there’s the idea of actually having a child. I’m sorry, that’s a solid “FUCK NO.” People talk about the miracle and the bullshit of the process of being pregnant and giving birth, so I know both sides of the fence. And maybe it’s shortsighted, but again, FUCK NO. That’s really all there is to it, FUCK NO. Nothing is coming out of my vagina, I like it too much.


Something about modern dating that is related to this topic of children is how the older we get, the more important these conversations about what we want from life become. In your early twenties, you can date people who want different things than you because we all know most relationships in your early twenties are just training wheels. However, the older we get the more important these topics become. My most recent significant relationship ended primarily because he was gung-ho about children and I am whatever the opposite of gung-ho is.

I was recently at a family reunion of sorts, sitting and talking to aunts and cousins and distant relatives, and the topic of my love life and future came up. Being the eldest non-married  non-babied relative in most family situations, it’s always a dreaded and inevitable conversation topic. And when I told them I didn’t want kids, they scoffed and told me I’d change my mind. NGTwo things happened next that were surprising. My mother defended my stance and told them that I wasn’t interested in having kids and that was my life choice. I have only ever been so taken aback by a really good season finale cliffhanger. And also, I realized they could be right – maybe someday my mind will change again. But for now, I’m banking on my life revolving around myself and that’s perfectly wonderful by me.


I believe I’ve already mentioned how I used to have an anatomically correct baby doll when I was younger. We “adopted” them from the doll hospital, which at the time was a MAGICAL place, and is now a shop of horrors. Rows upon rows of dolls in various states… and the entire place smells like plastic trying to mimic baby powder.

See: nightmare.

Back to the point. I used to play house and family and dreamed of being a mom. My best friend and I would push our dolls around her house, stopping to change their diapers and feed them. I’m sure our parents rolled their eyes PLENTY of times after requesting a trip to the store to pick up another set of diapers. Cause you know, the other ones were “dirty”.

Now a days? Zero fucks given about having kids.

Sure, I love babies. I adore their tiny hands and how their entire face lights up over the smallest thing. And not to toot my own horn, but I’m a pretty decent faux-aunt to my friend’s babies. My heart definitely melts when I am referred to as Aunty C. Mama C… not so much.

The other day, my friend told me he was wary of women who didn’t want kids because it wasn’t natural. (Sorry J, had to call you out…) Of course, my gut reaction was to lunge across the table and throw down some serious feminist anger.

I just got up and walked away, and then we had a nice dialogue about it later. REAL ADULTHOOD, FOR THE WIN!

So J, this ones for you.

I don’t want to have kids because my life and value isn’t defined by marriage and pushing out a few babes. I have big dreams to kick ass at my job, bike across the country and hike the PCT (along with 10000 other plans). So no, nothing about my 5 (or 10) year plan involves children. That doesn’t make me selfish or unnatural, it means we live in a world now where women don’t have to settle down to be deemed important or successful. (listen to this whole TED talk, if you haven’t yet. And then listen to Beyonce… cause, duh.)

My worth is (and should be) based on how I’m moving through the world, not if I conform to societal norms that have been drilled into our brains for FAR too long. Sure, my body can create life and that’s AMAZING (science, am I right?!) but a women shouldn’t ever be defined by what her body can and can’t do. Let’s be real, we have a LONG way to go in regards to women’s rights (men still make 23% more for the same job, which is fucking stupid. And don’t get me started on men weighing in on reproductive rights…) BUT, if we are moving towards a world where I don’t have to have kids to be deemed a success, we’re becoming a more equal world. Thank goodness.

Sorry if seeing little kids swearing offends you, but I feel like it’s applicable because this IS what a feminist looks like. And it’s little ones swearing, and I don’t want babies… See how I made that connection?! BOOM.