My So-Called Singleness

We all know what today it, so I'm not going to put it in huge bolded letters. Okay, I'll do it anyway, just because you begged and pleaded on your knees. IT'S FRIDAY!

Lately, basically on every social networking site and billboard, people are complaining about Valentine's Day and how they're "#ForeverAlone" and they'll never find someone to spend the most socially constructed holiday with because they're the most disgusting human being to ever flop, wet and naked, out of someone's vagina. To those people I just have one thing to say: Shut up. Valentine's Day doesn't mean shit. It is literally just another day of the year that you can do whatever the hell you want to do without it being special. Stop feeling sorry for yourself because it's not attractive, and that's probably why you're single. Log off Facebook, get off your butt, and go out and meet people, okay? Trust me, you'll survive a day out in the real world.

Okay, now that I've gotten that out of the way, I want to talk about myself (finally).

Despite my sisters' suspicions that I have a "secret boyfriend," I am going to admit and confirm here (because my blog is a primary source for this kind of information) that I am single. And, by single, I mean that I am not presently in an official, committed relationship with anyone. But, please, GOD ALMIGHTY PLEASE, do not go out to set me up with your cousin with bacne because I am taken.

Wait, what? 

I'm about to say something that people don't seem to understand. You can be in love with someone who you're not in a relationship with. Shocking, I know! Actually, you can feel and do a lot of things without being in a relationship with someone. As long as you're respecting yourself and not out ruining lives, whatever you do is cool. For me, I am emotionally and mentally unavailable for courting, impregnation, and wiring you money to a bank in an unknown Middle Eastern country, and I have been for a while. This pretty much means that if you approach me in a "I find dates on OKCupid because that's the only place girls will fool around with me out of desperation" kind of way, it's going to go a little like this:

Some guy I kind of know: So, you should totally come back to my place and check out the new drapes in my bedroom and drink something that'll get you loose and wasted.
Me: Listen, bud, I'm kind of involved with someone right now.
Some guy I kind of know: Oh, but your Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter all say you're single.
Me: Yeah, but trust me. I'm off the market.
Some guy I kind of know: Who is it? Do I know them?
Me: Probably not. He went to jail for beating up this one guy who hit on me. He's kind of the jealous type.

Okay, so it doesn't actually go like that, but you get the point.

The truth is that love is complicated. You should never feel pressured into being in a relationship unless it's the right time for you and the other person. For me, that time has not come because life is complicated and I am personally not ready to jump on the back of some guy's Harley and ride off into the sunset. I have too much on my plate and too many therapy sessions to attend before I'll feel like that's something I should be doing.

To be honest, I hate talking about my "love life" because people always try to complicate the things that are simple. They can't take the honest truth because there has to be a catch or something I'm not sharing.  Sure, I do keep things to myself because I (and anyone else involved) have a right to privacy and because it is really none of your business.

And, for those wondering, I'm happy with the way things are right now. I'm grateful for the time I have with the company I have, and that's all a girl needs. Who needs flowers and chocolates that'll eventually give me diarrhea and a changed relationship status on Facebook when I've got all this love and beauty in my life? Flowers will die eventually. Chocolates will be eaten. Facebook will become extinct just like MySpace.

Love and beauty are immortal as long as you keep your eyes wide open. 

Falling Without Recovery

Everyone and their mom is obsessed with falling in Love. The movies and TV shows and musical arrangements that fill the airwaves during daily drives to and from work are all full of Love stories that will either leave you curled up under your covers yearning to be touched in the best way or wanting to regurgitate the cold sweet and sour chicken you ate for lunch. The whole Love thing has become such an important force in the lives of pretty much everyone that it's even become like a big deal to tell someone that you love them in a way that's like "Yeah, I loved you before, but now I think I might want to only have sex with just you for the rest of my life." Funny how that happens, right? 

You could have asked high school Angela if she'd ever been in Love, and I can almost guarantee that she would have said yes in a heartbeat. I was stupid, though. I thought I was in Love with every guy who showed any kind of awareness of my existence or any guy who had moves on the astroturf field and do some kind of hair flip. But, let's face it, kids, that's just lust. And lust is Love's evil twin who only wants to give you herpes and a broken heart. 

I've grown up since then, and I'm not going to lie or do a fairy dance around the mushroom to avoid disclosing that I currently find myself caught between the sticky fingers of Love's iron fist. 

But I'm going to just say what no one else will say. Being in Love is shit. It's horrible. I wouldn't wish it upon anyone. 

Some mornings you open your eyes and life is rainbows and puppies and fuzzy kittens sleeping on cotton candy clouds. Suddenly you feel like nothing could possibly go wrong, and you're so happy and just want to go tell it on the mountain so everyone knows about how you have all these feelings for this one insignificantly significant individual. You finally understand the hype about Love. Well, you think you understand. After all, you're pretty much walking around in the same puff of smoke that follows you around after you leave a really good concert or have just had a totally real conversation with Josh Groban. 

Other days, you're lucky if you can get up out of bed. Your chest hurts and you miss this other person more than anything ever. It feels like you're going to actually die. I suppose you could say they're the drug 12 steps wouldn't be enough to kick, and you feel like you're going through the most painful of withdrawals. Every song is suddenly about them, and every movie stars you.  You remember the possibilities of dying of a broken heart and you're nearly positive that that's how you'll die. And, finally, the story of Romeo and Juliet makes complete sense. Maybe those two lovebirds weren't as hormonally irrational as you once thought. 

Then there are days when you absolutely hate everything about this person. You sit there and think to yourself, "Why this person? Why now? Why couldn't I be feeling all this for the cute guy who works at Subway?" You hate the way they laugh, the way they drive too fast, the way they only want you when they drink, the way they look when they think you're not watching, the way they do just about everything. It all sucks for being so damn cute and appealing like a 6-pack of bitch beer on a Friday night. You wish they'd just leave so you could just move the frig on. Like, please get out of my life now. I can't take this. You're killing me slowly. 

But there are still those days when you feel like you're in one of those corny Nicholas Sparks novels, and you're totally invincible to the rest of the world through the power of Love. You love the fact that they're around. You love every little moment you have with them, and you realize how beautiful life is while they're with you. You see them from across the room, and your heart stops and you can't imagine having a more beautiful view. They touch you, and everything feels perfect. They hold you, and you feel the safest you've ever felt. They kiss you, and you wonder if you'll ever find anything that feels more right. And that's not even explaining the feeling at it's best. That's just skidding across the surface. 

The thing about Love, though, is that despite all the aching chests and awkward first kisses and the feeling of "how will I ever move on from this moment?", it's still pretty amazing. And that, kids, is the shittiest part. 

Separation Anxiety

My guess is that at least half of the turmoil I suffer through is caused by separation anxiety. The rest is caused by my own inabilities to be a rational thinker (I'm a very peachy person, guys, trust me). Ironically, those two parts of me kind of like to hold hands quite often. I know what you're thinking: How can someone who is such a little loner be haunted by so many feelings about being apart from another human being? I can't answer that question at all, incidentally. But the thing that most people fail to understand about my case of separation anxiety is that I live in complete fear about 75% of the time.

Being roughly two hours from home (whatever that is, I have multiple homes these days), it's hard. And considering some of the events that have taken place while I have been away from home (and even some things that have occurred while I was home), it can be very scary. And the resulting problem for me is that I am constantly thinking, "Shit, what if that happens again!" or "What if something happens to me and no one is there?"

And I understand that these life events, the things that happened before and the things that will happen in the future are out of my control. There is still that feeling like everything is going to fall to pieces right in the palms of my hands. Sometimes I get the courage to say "Hey, I have these feelings and I wanted you to know because I love you and I'm sorry if it makes you uneasy and I'm sorry if you can't handle it!" But too often it feels like a one-sided conversation.

Me: Please
Me: Please, don't leave me
Me: I need you
Me: I miss you
Me: I love you
Me: Don't break on me 

And that is another thing people don't understand.

Some might consider me clingy or needy or desperate, but that's not the case. I live in fear of being left for dead by the people that take up the most room in my heart. The people that I would jump through hoops for and sacrifice the world for in a blink of an eye if they asked.  It's a living Hell sometimes. 

I don't need for people to understand why I have this anxiety or how I feel when I'm suddenly struck by this immense amount of fear. Most of the time, I don't tell people and it's not something anyone is bound to notice from the outside. And you shouldn't worry about me either. Because you'll see that I'm fine when I'm able to unleash the infinite amounts of love I've been hoarding in my chest since I last saw you. And you'll feel the love. And you'll either give me love back or you won't.

The beauty of separation is that it sometimes makes the heart grow fonder. And the sadness of separation is that sometimes it kills the seeds that you planted long before. But there is always the hope that love will keep it alive.  

Let's keep it alive. 

T(H)RUST IN ME.

You know how there's that whole stereotype about guys only wanting to boink and honk and touch your ba-donka-donk? That they don't actually mean anything they say because they basically follow their penises into the great unknown hoping for a little of this and a tad of that? That they think, "If I say really pretty words, the words every girl really wants to hear, I'll get lucky tonight?" It's just a man following his biological instincts from ancient histories in the great wild.

Imagine my lack of surprise when I saw that my most viewed blog post of all time was my post titled "Bras, Penis Flaps, and Pinterest! Oh My!" That is what we call strategic blogging and tagging. I've learned over the course of my life that sex sells and sex gets attention. I have no idea if a majority of those views were from male readers or female readers, and that doesn't really matter in this instance. But I bet most writers would see that and say, "Oh, some perverted guy must have come across this on accident because there is nothing sexual about this post." (excuse me, why are men always the perverts? You know, girls get horny too. like seriously. omg put that penis inside me.)

I'm not like most writers (or really people), if you haven't figured that out yet.

Truthfully, I am fascinated by sexuality. I am fascinated by vaginas and penises and boobs and nipples and testicles and sex and how things work and why things work and why things feel good to some people and don't feel good to others. Yet, I am not a sexual person in the way that you'd think I was if I was just to just tell you that I am interested in the mechanics of sex and sexuality. You can ask just

about anyone I know, and they will back up that statement for me. I mean, my sexual encounters with people are private, so I won't be like exploiting my deepest and most intimate moments here on the Internet anytime soon. That'd be weird. C'mon.

But I can say that I have had guys send me dick pics. There I said it. And I have even had a guy try to seduce me by just whipping his willie out and expecting me to be sent into a sex-induced craze and the only cure is for me to do things with his penis (that guy found out that didn't work at all). I've had guys message me on Facebook (friends of mine) to tell me that my chest looks nice in a picture or whatever.

This whole thing seems kind of one sided, am I right?

It is. 

Seems that people have totally ignored the fact that girls can be guilty of wanting the "D" just as much as a guy wants the "V." Honestly, I wish I could have a blog completely dedicated to every single time I have thought about a guy's butt or penis or chest or anything like that because that blog would have a new post like every day. Sure, that might make me sound a little crazy. I know that.

But like, I'm not just interested in a guy's 7 wonders. You know, I like candles. And wine. And Italian food. And chances to put on a dress and go out and eat Italian food and then drink wine illegally because I'm still underage. I like feeling safe. I like bad kissing (on my part) and lots of cuddling. I like going places and having that urge to reach out and hold a guy's hand but not actually making the move because I fear we're not there yet. I like talking. I like sitting
with someone and just knowing that that is the damn best place to be at that moment.

I like trust. 

I like "I won't tell anyone about the porn file on your computer if you don't tell anyone about how I can't kiss to save my life."

But I also like a little thrust with my trust. I'm not asking for too much. It doesn't make me a slut or a pervert or a whore or anything else that might be insulting to someone who likes sexy things or the human body and its functions. I'm just a girl. I'm just willing to wait for what I want to be what's real.

And, just for those who might have found this thinking I was going to post naughty photos and talk about sexcapades, thinking about sex doesn't make you a pervert. It just makes you a person. 

The Romantic Gesture

I write more about romantic stuff than I actually do romantic stuff. Is that part of the curse of being a damaged writer who is forever single? Probably. 

So, I saw this retweet by Taco Bell on twitter (duhhh) and it was a girl talking about how she got asked to her prom via a verde sauce packet. Like, I guess he got a packet that had a blank white place to write your own message and he wrote "Prom?" in the space and gave it to her. Okay, maybe it is just the hopeless romantic that nests in my body all year long talking and controlling my mind, but this totally made me want a boyfriend (and no, not a creepy guy from the internet). And so I started to think about all the perfect ways a guy could propose going steady with me or asking me on a date that would just be completely irresistible to my girlish wonder.

Number one, and this will forever be a school girl fantasy for me, is through one of those stupid elementary school check-yes-or-no notes. I don't know why this approach to romance is so damn appealing to me, but it I don't think I could ever not say yes to one of those bastards (unless, of course,
the guy was a bastard... and then the cards change). Of course, sadly, I'm at an age now that doesn't really think that kind of gesture is appropriate. Instead, we just bump and grind and have casual sex with people we have no emotional attachments to. Adulthood, everyone! 

Number two is really for my inner fatass... also, I kind of stole this from The Princess Diaries, so shoot me. Anyway, a guy orders me a pizza (preferably cheese because who doesn't like cheese? Oh, right. Lactose intolerant bitches!) and then has the pizza place write out "Will you... [insert desired action here]?" in Sour Patch Kids on top. I know, it sounds totally gross, but I would eat the Sour Patch Kids before eating the pizza... maybe. Okay, I'd totally try them together, but who cares?   But, really, who could say no to that? Personally, I can't say no to pizza ever, so that's the best way to win my heart.

-___- Desmond and Daniel = Constants 4ever

Number three is also food related (damn, how have I lost 65 pounds with this much food on my mind?).  Okay, so, the guy gets a custom fortune cookie fortune made and puts it in a fortune cookie (really, Angela? you don't say?) and gives it to me after getting me chinese food. Of course, the fortune says something really cute like "Hey, sexy. Be my constant. Love, Daniel Faraday" or "Eat together, fat alone. jk. Let's be fat together." The LOST references are not optional.

Finally, concert proposals. I have been to way too many concerts where girls get proposed to by their boyfriends on stage or during the show at some point. I want that. That is like the most badass gesture in the book of gestures. If a guy could get, say, Jon Foreman, lead singer of Switchfoot, or another relevant member of a band to be like "Hey, this guy loves you lots. Go out with him/ marry him, okay?" That'd probably have a very high feedback rating. But that's just my opinion.

So, pretty much, my stomach is my heart. But is that really a surprise to anyone? 

Musicians are SEXY!

Only half true, Napoleon. You forgot the hair.

So, back during my spring break, Bruce and I watched this movie called "Safety Not Guaranteed" (which, just incase you were wondering, was actually pretty cute if you're looking for one of those moderately sappy indie movies), and, in one of the scenes, the main female character listens to the main dude character sing and play a song that he wrote for his girlfriend. During this scene, Bruce asked why girls go gaga over guys with instruments or guys who can sing. And it got me thinking for a moment. WHY do girls go crazy over these dreamboats with extra filling (aka talent and cuteness combined)?

Now, I'm totally guilty of this. Thinking back on all of my celebrity crushes I've had over the years or even guys I got goosebumps for in the real world, a lot of them had some kind of artistic talent that set them apart from the rest of the herd. I mean, my first school girl crush, for the love of God, was a skilled drawer at the age of 8... And later in high school, I liked singers and writers. There is just something about how a guy can twiddle his thumbs and make amazing stuff come from the ordinary (whoa... that sounds dirty. And now I'm making you analyze what I just said.... and now you think I'm a pervert! Happy day!) that makes him like a million times more attractive instantly. Because, trust me, I've liked guys who, before I knew they had this hidden hotness talent, I didn't even give a second glance. And then WHAM! *instant lady boner from hearing Josh Groban*

Of course, not every single guy who has some kind of artistic ability is going have the girls on their knees begging "Please, baby, please!" It's a package deal, dudes. You gotta walk the walk and talk the talk... and have great hair and teeth. 

I've always considered art a doorway to the soul, so a guy that just puts his soul on the table like that without making a girl work hard looking for it... That's just really hot.

Honestly, I think a guy exposing that side of him is what makes him super attractive. Courage and confidence are hot. If a guy lets me read his writing or isn't afraid to sing in the car with me (because I can't resist a good car sing-a-long no matter how hard I try), that instantly becomes bonus points
on the scale of "Is this guy worth swooning over or not?" But it's not like EVERY single guy who does these things is going to get my heart racing. Just, if you've got the rest of the ingredients, the added spoonful of sugar on top just might make the cake.... or give me diabetes.

So, write me your poems. Tell me a story. Serenade me with the sweetest canticles of the John Denver variety. Doodle me a picture of a Scottish terrier eating my face off. Do your finest, sir.

Too bad you'll never live up to any of my unrealistic expectations due to the fact that I read Twilight freshman year of high school.

Today, I'm Gonna Eat

I love food. I love eating food. I love smelling food. I love ordering food. I love looking at food. Yeah, so I pretty much love everything about food and eating. The only thing I don't like about food is that it is limited and will be gone eventually. It's one of the things that keeps me alive, so why wouldn't I love it? Some people, though, seem to think that you can't eat if you want to look good. Apparently, the only way to get skinny is to become a rabbit and only eat like nothing at all every single day. Uh, no.

In the last 9 months, I've lost 60 freaking amazing pounds (and I'm still dropping, by the way). I guess that is supposed to make me an expert on health and fitness and weight loss (well, that's just what I assume from all the questions I get about what I do or if I have any tips on how someone else can drop some weight). Newsflash, I'm not an expert. I just saw weight loss as a no-brainer after a while. Also, I've been on so many damn diets and nutrition plans over the last 20 years of my life, that I already had a general idea of what you need to do to boost your health and drop some lard.

If there is one piece of advice I could give anyone trying to lose weight it's this: please eat. 

I'm constantly asked by people who knew me before I shrunk a million sizes, "Angela, what do you eat? Girl, you look so good!" I eat whatever the hell I want. That's my answer. While I have adjusted my eating habits (for instance, I don't stuff my face full of junk food all the time. Common sense, guys), I don't restrict myself on anything. I don't see the point. I love food way too much to police myself. That just creates misery. Plus, at least when I don't see numbers drop the scale, I know why.... unlike if you're not eating and not dropping.

My goal is to look good, feel good, and be able to live life. If I get down to a size 6 and can't eat Bruce's freaking orgasmic taco soup because I'm afraid it will cause me to gain weight or that it will make me any less beautiful than I already am, that's not living. There are so many fattening meals that I haven't tried or even imagined yet, and, dammit, when I get a chance to eat those things, I want to be able to jump right in without thinking twice.

The other night, I was talking to my friend Taylre about needing new jeans because my current pairs are a bit large on me, and she made an amazing point. She said that she'd rather buy new pants than stop eating cookies because cookies are the shit. (Those aren't her exact words, but whatever).  Gaining weight or a bit of pudge in the stomach is not the end of the world. It doesn't mean you're ugly or worthless or something nasty. It just means you need new clothes. 

So, yeah, today, I'm going to eat and not worry about my weight. I'm going to eat because my body needs food. Hungry and skinny doesn't equal beautiful or healthy. So, if you're hungry, go eat. Go eat whatever sounds good. Your body is probably trying to tell you something. I always listen to my cravings to see what my body needs. You should too.

Lesson learned: I love a plate of nachos that is bigger than my head. I'm a classy girl, guys. 

***This week's National Eating Disorder Awareness week. If you'd like to learn more about being informed about eating disorders, check out this article on ActiveMinds.***

Snorts of Love

Have you ever been in infatuation with someone? Maybe a small crush? In like? In love? Whatever you want to call it, most people have experienced that rush of hormones and adrenaline when just the idea or casual name-dropping of Mr.Handsome-Amazing or Miss Tits-and-Ass is out and about. For some people, dealing with these various feelings (or feels, as I like to formally call them) is way easy and second nature. Others might not be so fortunate. Me? Well, I'm one of those poor bastards who can't seem to make heads or tails of anything when it comes to those of the opposite sex (which is why I am 4ever alone and destined to be the neighborhood hag one day), especially when it's a Mr.Mister that I have an abundance of feels for.

For anyone who knows me and spends time with me, you have probably had the amazing opportunity to witness one of my snort-giggle-fits. Ever so often, I'll totally be trying to be cool as a cucumber when suddenly someone (usually the one I fancy... maybe just anyone who makes me feel good) will say something funny or cute and I'll catch the snorts. It's uncontrollable. Once I start snorting, it can be hard to stop. I probably look like I am one of those patients on House MD that just has seizures every 5 seconds until the end of the episode (which is when House suddenly connects all the dots to the medical mystery and cures the patient of their enigmatic case), and everyone is just waiting around to see if they'll ever stop. So, naturally, it's terribly awkward and embarrassing for me when they happens. Like, can I please just be excused from ever having to talk to anyone ever again so this doesn't happen ever again? Thanks.

I have a great fear of rejection. I can tell you right now that if I am in like with you or if I want to skip all the socially acceptable steps of courting rituals and just elope to Vegas and pop out a couple of babies with you, you might never actually hear me say any of that. Of course, I am fully aware that if people never know how you feel, you will never go anywhere, and that's really no fun when you think long and hard about it. Still, my fear cripples me. (This is where my best friend Bruce will proceed to palm-face himself... or worse... out of frustration).

The thing, though, is that even when I think the other person might like me just a bit (maybe even tolerate my presence, if I'm lucky), I still don't make a move. Why? Trust issues! I don't trust my gut. I don't trust myself. I don't trust anyone. Point. Blank. (Well, there are other reasons, but, like... those don't matter)

A drawing from The Twits? Maybe... or maybe a diagram of hag evolution!

But, I think it all goes back to the snorts. When they'll strike, nobody knows! So, I'd rather just pretend that men don't exist (or that if they do exist, they all just suck and don't deserve my love) and that my feelings don't matter and that there are benefits to being the neighborhood hag who lets her tits sag because there aren't men to impress.

So, if you take anything from this, take this: I'm probably secretly in love with you. That's all. Nothing else to see here.

*snort* 

4Ever Alone on Valentine's Day

With one week until Valentine's Day, I thought it'd be a good time to talk about being single or alone on a day that's all about sexy times with sexy people and heart-shaped things. Let's face it, a lot of people have this unhealthy grudge against the 14th day of February because they're upset that they don't have a significant other to share the day with. Seeing coworkers or friends receive bouquets of roses or those nasty boxes of gourmet chocolate can be so totally unbearable for those who haven't learned to love being single. So, what can you do on Valentine's Day alone? Well, I've made a pretty damn lame awesome list to help give you some ideas!

HERE WE GO!

1. Get caught up on all the seasons of your favorite TV shows! Still can't manage to get passed the second season of Glee? Here's a good excuse! It's not like you have anything else to do. Also, it might help you remember how much your life doesn't suck. After all, you could be in the glee club! Or take this as an opportunity to start a new show! Netflix is full of great stuff (except they still don't have Friends which kind of really sucks)

2. Eat your damn chocolate (or whatever your favorite candy is). Just because it's not that nasty gourmet stuff doesn't mean it shouldn't be eaten! No one is around to judge you based on what you consume, so indulge! You can worry about gaining weight another time. Tonight, it's all about you and Mr.Hershey. 

Yup, right into your vagina, Rose.

3. Watch Titanic. Do I seriously need to explain this one? It's one of the greatest cinematic love stories of all time. PLUS, you get to see post-sex Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet's hard-ass nipples. Who needs porn when you've got that? And this is probably the closest you're going to get to sex tonight. Right? Right. 

4. Serenade the posters on your bedroom walls like you did when you were 13. You know you're totally guilty of either singing or lip-syncing to your celebrity crushes as they hang on your walls or wherever you keep that kind of stuff. So, pick out your favorite love songs and grab your hairbrush because things are about to get crazy up in here! (This also can act as a great cardio workout depending on how crazy things get)

Oh I thought you said 5 shades of suck

5. Read  Fifty Shades of Grey. You know you've always been curious... Just go for it! What happens of Valentine's Day stays on Valentine's Day (unless it's an unwanted pregnancy... then that might come back to bite you in 9 months)

6. Call up your other single friends and have a girls/guys night. It's proven that people are less miserable when they share their misery with other people. Maybe have a sleepover or head to the bar and have drinks. Doesn't matter what you do, as long as you're with people just as miserable as you. 

7. Call your grandma. I really doubt your grandma is going to be up to much (if she is, WAY TO GO GRANDMA!) so why not ring her up and catch up on life at the nursing home. Maybe exchange knitting tips and recipes. 

8. Do whatever you usually do regardless of the day having a title. Homework? Laundry? Get really drunk? Whatever it is, do it. After all, Valentine's Day isn't even a real holiday if it doesn't get you a day off work or school. 

Valentine's Day doesn't have to be about having sex or being in a relationship with someone. It's about taking the time to tell the people you love (both romantically and platonically) that you love them. You don't need chocolate or flowers or mix-CD's to do that job. Just speak from your heart in the best way that you can. Don't pass it up. You might regret it later on.

Don't forget that February 15th means chocolate goes on sale, so stock up for the rest of the year! You'll be glad you did!

Play Nice, February

Hello, February! I see you've slimmed down some since last year! *leap year jokes!* 

Typically, I'm totally cool with February. Nasty-gourmet-chocolate-everyone-says-tastes-good is in high demand. It's almost always possible to get your hands on those amazing Twilight and One Direction Valentines at the drugstore (I mean, who doesn't want to tell someone they love them with Kristen Stewarts pale-ass face or a random British boy? Seriously.). I get to remember how complicated my nonexistent love life is for a consecutive 28 days. Then, after I've wallowed in self-pity, I'll get to indulge in the gourmet-chocolate Sour Patch Kids that my boyfriend  I got me myself, and we'll live happily-ever-after  then I'll go cuddle with my body pillow. See? February is awesome to me.

So, like every new month, I've set out some goals for myself (because what is life without some fun structured living?)

Credit: http://ohshrubbery.deviantart.com/art/Chocolate-54158604

1. Don't die.That's simple and self-explanatory. 
2. Don't spend all my money on unnecessary band merchandise or t-shirts with clever sayings or quotes from TV shows to compensate for the fact that I am single (We get it, IT'S NOT PENNY'S BOAT!). Ever since I got my debit card, it seems like I just can't keep it in my wallet for very long. I always have this itch to buy things online. Is it my longing to receive things in the mail? Maybe. That's not the point, though. The point is I have a problem, and money doesn't grow on trees. 
3. Don't eat the chocolate! I don't even like chocolate, but, for some reason, when it's around, I eat all the chocolate anyway. It's really sad. What did I ever do to be cursed in such a disgusting way? 
4. Gawk less at attractive people while in public. It's really just not even enjoyable anymore. Like, I get it. You're really good looking, and I have no chance of getting your attention with my messy hair and baggy clothes. Besides, I've got my heart set on bigger things. (Like a really big bag of Sour Patch Kids). I don't need the temptations! Get behind me, Satan!
5. Be weird. Okay, I'll try. It's not going to be easy coming down from such a high pedestal of weirdness, but I'll try. 

In all seriousness, people take February way too seriously. It's a month, not a 28-day-long holiday that allows you to waste your money on chocolate and have lots of sex.


Despite all the commercialism involved with February and Valentine's Day, it's really not any different from any other month of the year. Well, I guess it is slightly better because there are only 28 days, which means fewer days to be bad days, fewer days to get your heart smashed and ripped apart by careless ne'er-do-wells, fewer days to be told by your mother-in-law that you need to hit the gym and lay off the sweets, fewer days to neglect actually working on your New Year resolutions, and fewer days to convince your 15 year-old sister she needs to get her ass to rehab for that unflattering Coke addiction.  February is short, so live your days to the fullest. 


Or you can just continue to do what you're doing and live in fear of actually enjoying your life and feeling good about your choices because it's just easier than getting up off your lazy ass and greeting the world with a badass attitude. That's okay too, I guess.

Also, in honor of February, here's some tasteful music by Josh Groban: