Audrey With The Red Hair

Before I begin, please note this story isn’t about a guy, but rather a twist of fate, a sign that came at the most ideal time. 

I can’t lie. It hasn’t been an easy adjustment this past month. It feels like it’s been the calm AFTER the storm where everything that just happened, on top of being far away from friends and family, has sunk in. This past week I wondered, “what am I doing here in California?!” Sure, the weather is awesome, the food is fresh (sushi everyday please!) and I love my new job and coworkers who helped make this transition easier, though I can’t help but miss home and feel as though nobody here will ever fully understand the heartbreak I just went through.

It was the end of the workday and I opened up to my coworker, Audrey, who I’ve been sharing an office with for over a month. In the short amount of time that we’ve worked together, she has taken me under her wing and although she was new to LA too, she has made the move easier. As if I didn’t like her already, she gave the best advice that made me feel okay to go through my emotions, especially since she knew bits and pieces of my recent breakup.

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Dating & Life Advice From My Airbnb Host

Friday night was the first time I truly felt on my own in California. My relationship ending was one thing, but what felt worse, was not having my amazing life coach/therapist to talk with. This of course, was my Airbnb Host, another older and wiser adult, who I’ve become close to in a short period of time. (I really need to start meeting people my own age.) I have to admit, I was a little cautious about the whole Airbnb thing at first, but I needed a place to stay temporarily before I landed a studio to call my own.

Bridgets home

First lesson I learned when I walked into her home, was that you CAN mix-and-match prints. I knew right then, I was going to totally milk this and get as much décor advice as possible. Little did I know, I’d be gaining so much more. I talked to her about basically everything this past month. Yep, if you’re reading this, she probably knows you, your last name, your address and we should be getting a sample of your DNA back soon; but let’s stick to the subject. Here is some kickass advice to live by from my Airbnb Host!

IMG_7740Pay attention to “Pink Flags”: I HATE that I often excuse those little things about a person that drive me crazy and don’t make me feel good. An unanswered text, “He must be busy,” or how about that guy who is only available on Sunday? Yep, he’s a keeper. If the feelings are mutual, the effort will be equal. All the little bits of “information” they’re unknowingly sharing might be nothing at all. The only thing you can do is follow your gut and call them what they are, “Pink Flags.” They ain’t red yet, but they are getting close.

Don’t feel guilty for cutting people out of your life: I think the reason why I handled the breakup semi-ok was because I’ve had worse. I’ve had my heart broken one too many times by not boyfriends but close girlfriends, who are no longer in my life. This present situation has had me reflect on the past and had me thinking, “Wow, that’s a list long of people I’ve walked away from.” My Airbnb Host made me feel better when she said, “You cut them out of your life for a reason.”IMG_8276 I thought, you know what, she’s right! Even if I had the choice to go back, I would still choose to walk away, knowing that relationship wasn’t healthy for me. I’m proud to say that I know when it’s time to walk away from a once beautiful relationship, boyfriend or girlfriend. Now, I have to start not feeling guilty for it.

Why lie? Be straight up: While this seems like a given, it’s actually harder than it sounds. I’ve realized that I have lied a few times to protect another person’s feelings. Ah wait, that’s a lie. I lied because I felt it was easier than getting into something that would be uncomfortable. Sure, I can be the most straight-up bitch and tell it like it is to my besties (sorry again Olivia, LOVE YOU!). Then why do I sugarcoat things with the opposite sex? Not to excuse my actions, but I think most of us are guilty of this. For example, when I was out with this guy, he asked me if I was talking to anyone else and I said, no. Then, as I was chatting with my Airbnb Host I said, “Well… there is this one other guy…” and she said, “Why do we do this?! Why do we lie?!” She’s right, why didn’t I just say, “Yes, I am talking to a few other people, but I’ve only gone out with you?” I think it’s just a natural reflex. Whether we’re concerned that we may sound slutty, worried about hurting the other persons feelings, or simply just don’t want to spoil the moment, we lie. No more of that.

I’ve given my keys back twice to people this month. Only this time, the person who closed the door opened my mind in more ways than one. Now that’s a 5 star rating!

 

It’s Handled

“It’s all in the rear view for me. I need to move forward. I am moving forward.”
– Olivia Pope.

Around this time last year, I wrote a post about loving my career and putting 100% of my time and energy towards it. I craved success, and it felt so close I could taste it. At the same time, I wondered how “full” my life truly was. I have no regrets; I just look at things a bit differently now.

It all started when I was chatting with a friend in the coffee room. It was another late night and I remember telling her how I started drinking my coffee black like my soul and she laughed saying, “I know you feel like you have bigger and better things to do, but maybe you could find someone to have an even better time with… Go home Dayna. And please add milk, that’s disgusting.”Screen Shot 2016-05-01 at 3.50.38 PM

She was right. Why was I acting like a single 50-year-old woman? I excused it with answers like, “I don’t have time to commit and think about a relationship and love” or “I work late hours, I’m glued to my computer and won’t have much time for romance.” That was a lie, excuses holding me back from finding true happiness and fulfillment. Truth was, I was too busy keeping life squeaky clean and easy… God forbid I opened myself up for the possibility of things to get messy (and boy did they get messy).

I’m not perfect, or going to be the perfect girlfriend. They say love is made in the kitchen, but I think salmonella poisoning and stomachaches are made in mine. When I was single I was content ordering takeout, watching Scandal, having another peaceful night without setting off the smoke alarm. I mean… Olivia Pope doesn’t cook! Girlfriend lives off popcorn and wine and look at her! I bet if Fitz was like, “Liv, I’m starving. What’s for dinner?” She would say, “it’s handled”, close the laptop, answer the door, and take that seamless delivery to her man like a boss. [enter fist pump emoji]

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When I met you in the winter

“Be nice or I’ll write about you on my blog”, my instagram bio says. Well, a few nice guys didn’t like this and asked if that meant I only write about the bad ones. I then thought of a couple boys I’ve met and there was one that stood out to me. 

On a chilly winter day I was running late and a little lost in New York City. My phone was dead and I had no shame asking anyone and everyone for directions. I asked a foreigner, of course, and two girls who completely blew me off. That’s when I met him. He told me to follow him, he was taking the B and I was taking the C train uptown. He just moved into the city and we talked about how easy it is to get confused with the subways but I think he was trying to make me feel better.

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4 Fails At A Strip Club

It’s been a busy few months and since moving into the city it’s only gotten worse. I’ve had less time to blog ever since my lazy Sunday’s have been taken away by cleaning and furniture shopping (mind you I’m still on the hunt for a bed) and I’ve been working so late by the time I get out I just want to unplug.

However, this weekend inspired me to get back on my blogging game…Why? Because nothing cures writers block like going to a strip club. Yep! If your looking to get laid don’t follow my lead. Here are my 4 fails at a strip club.

 1. The Interviewer: As I was chatting with a few of the strippers (trying hard to not look down) I would try to change the subject to feel less awkward. For instance, when they said “Your beautiful! Would you like a dance?” I would say something like, “Aw, thanks but no thanks! So how long have you been doing this for?” “How long are the hours?” “Do you commute?” and my favorite, “Is there a dress code?” I was basically interviewing all the men. Needless to say, none of them got the job (Pun intended.)

2. The Mom: Some of the guys were as young as 21…MIND BLOWN when one guy told me he’s been stripping since he was 18. Naturally, I turned into a 60 year old woman telling him, he’s not gonna be cute and fit forever and that he should go to school. From there, I asked deep questions like, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” His answers made me want to give him a hug and tell him everything’s going to be ok, totally strip club appropriate.  I’m surprised I didn’t get kicked out for harassing the strippers, but wasn’t surprised when they walked away and started cuddling up to the rich 80 year old who didn’t ask questions… he paid up.

3. The Stingy: I was definitely not being “cheap” on purpose, I had cash on me (you know, just to fit in…) But things would’ve been easier and less awkward if I could just hand them the bills. “Where’s the cashier?!” I thought. I didn’t want to be rude but I couldn’t get myself to put cash in someone’s Calvin’s.

4. The Basic Bitch: Nothing’s says “I’m having so much fun!” like asking the half-naked bartender to charge your iPhone. When I ran out of juice I became just as anxious as the thirty men and women at that bar. To me, a full charged iPhone is the equivalent to an orgasm… it’s satisfaction guaranteed. “YES, YES, YES!” I softly screamed as the text messages started coming in. True pleasure.

Another lazy Sunday taken away from me the next day as I knew it was time to go to the laundry mat. Uncomfortable and out of place, I found myself shaking 10 times more putting my quarters into the machine than I was putting dollars into someone’s boxer briefs the night before. I laughed and thought, “I don’t know if I’ll ever go to a strip club again, but I definitely need to find a new laundry mat…”

Actually, She’s Just Not That Into You.

Thinking back to some of our most beloved rom-com movies I find myself to be somewhat offended by the movie, He’s Just Not That into You. The story seems very sexist to me and, of course, one of the single ladies is played by miss solo herself, Jennifer Aniston. How ironic. A woman who remains not married on and off camera…and written off to be miserable about it. Why is it that we teach women to aspire to marriage but we teach men to aspire to careers? Not everyone wants to get married and marriage shouldn’t be seen as an accomplishment. Did it ever occur to people that maybe Ms. Aniston or us girls aren’t into the guy? That actually, she’s just not that into you…

1. If she’s not drunk texting you.
Exception to the rule: she’s just tipsy, her phone died, she’s in a coma.

Jenifer-Anniston-jennifer-aniston-23305546-500-265

2. If she isn’t following you and hasn’t liked ANY of your Instagram pictures.
Exception to the rule: you don’t have a Instagram, your pictures are all WCW, you only have one picture.
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To The Guy I Was Sleeping With

In 2014 I slept with a guy multiple times without being in a serious relationship. Now before you roll your eyes and say to yourself, “well, duh of course this ends badly,” think of all the relationships that jump into something too fast and too serious; those also crash and burn. Trust me, I used to look back at it all and blame myself for the not so happy ending. I would think, “I’m hard on myself so I’m hard on others” or “I have high expectations for myself, so I did from you.” And while that could all be true, I still don’t think I could have done anything differently. You helped me let my hair down, but I could never let you in, with good reason. I no longer blame myself for the game you played and here’s why…

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Cleavage Confessions:

I didn’t just hit puberty, and I’m not 13 anymore, but there is always that awkward moment when going lingerie shopping. While shopping for new bras at Victoria’s Secret I couldn’t help but blush more than once. Don’t get me wrong, I am confident about my body, but there are times I prefer my privacy! Here’s why…

 


 1. Overhearing your intimate conversations while you’re picking out your intimates.

Standing next to a couple picking out scandalous lingerie is kind of awkward enough; I don’t need to overhear how sexy this will look on you and how your night is going to play out.

2. Having to squeeze and touch the cups of the bra to make sure it’s just the right amount of padding.

Squeezing the cups to make sure it’s right for you is a must. Is it jelly, or padded? Under-wire, or no under-wire? Lined, or unlined? I leave the store having squeezed about 20 bras before getting my hands on the right one for me.

3. While I wanted to go a little undercover about my choice of padding and under-wire, it seems like nothing is left a secret at Victoria’s Secret.

The saleswoman in the fitting room enjoyed announcing my size and the salesman ringing me up notices I decided to go with the bra that makes my breast appear 2 sizes bigger…I act coy as I hand him the cash.

As I leave the store I realized that it’s clear this cleavage has been exposed in more ways than one…but at least now everyone at the mall can stare at my VS bag and wonder what’s inside!