So I know I wrote one blog post and then abandoned ship, but I found this Word doc on my computer that was supposed to be my next post. I wrote this 2 years ago, but I think its pretty hilariously honest, so here ya go:

You know, when I started this blog like a year ago I thought I was deep into the Tinder world and that no man was going to hold me down. I ended up falling for a certain Bearded Musician soon after that first post, causing me to abandon this site just long enough to forget it ever existed, even when BM broke up with me a month and a half later.

What’s funny about that break up is two things:

1. I got to un-cancel plans to Colorado with an ex, which we’ll get to later
2. I got to step back from being completely consumed by someone who didn’t even give a single fuck about me so that I could give all the fucks about myself

Breakups are fucking WEIRD. He had been “taking time to think” for like 3 weeks (RED FLAG!!) and I was pretty sure he was gonna dump me when we met to talk because he had us meet at a bar that was at the intersection of the G train and the L train, aka, our trains to our apartments, in opposite directions.

So after a nerve-filled brunch with my bestie, I headed off in my kick-ass zombie dress. Cause no one can dump a girl in a zombie dress, duh. I was wrong. He DID break up with me. “It’s not you, it’s me! You deserve better! I’m no good for you!” I heard them all in the short time that two vodka pineapples that I made him buy me allowed. I cried, we talked, and then I tried to seduce him into one last pity fuck. It didn’t work. He awkwardly walked me to the train as the vodka hit me and my boob sweat beaded down my torso. “Haha! I can’t even fucking believe this. You kinda suck,” I cackled aloud.

He held me for a last hug on the subway platform and then I peaced the fuck out, emerging from the station a free woman. “What kind of booze do you have at your place?” I texted my friend. “Never mind, I’m just gonna get vodka and tequila, let’s start there.”

After my obligatory shower sob I headed to my friend’s rooftop where I took too many shots and he fed me spaghetti to sober me up enough to go out. I texted my college ex, “I hope you didn’t sell those tickets yet, cause we’re going to Colorado.” He hadn’t.