Happy anniversary, to me!

Happy anniversary, to me.

This marks my one year fast from dating, come to an end. Four texts and one forced fifteen minute conversation later, my two year long, puppy giving relationship was ended over my supposed non-deservingness and my lack of ability to be a good girlfriend. Those included, but were not limited to, being stubborn, wanting to go backpacking, being overly confident, and being unappreciative. One night later he had downgraded from a Ferrari to a beat up minivan (metaphor, please note) and I was spending my Fourth of July on the couch, with a plastic cup stolen from work full of mint chip ice cream, sobbing. The next morning I was woken up to my friend crawling in bed with me, letting me cry for about thirty minutes, and then dragging my ass on a five hour hike upon which I cried, bitched and yelled at my mom, sister, and poor Theresa. I spent the next month in a foolish grovel fest worthy of someone attempting to not be slayed by Voldemort (pardon the HP reference, but the new movie is out in two weeks and it's on my mind.) I'm not saying having my heart broken for the first time wasn't worthy of an Avada Kadavra type shock and horror, but I think I let myself play the broken, dumped victim for a tad too long. It might have been my crying meltdown in France in February that made me realize that despite my pact to stay single for a year, I was still depressed about being alone. That might have been the fear that had allowed me to flow flawlessly from one guy to the next starting at age fifteen, leaving no more than a two week period of alone time between. It took planning and skill, and I luckily had an ever still faithful booty call available for my Catholic girl make outs in trucks instead of the full shag, but whatever it may have been, that period of serial monogamy (save for a few flip ups) made my suddenly single life a huge change. After three and a half years of non-stop boys, my whole heart and my whole family was ready for a bit of a break. Granted, I think my father was 100% serious when he attempted to lure me into signing a contract to stay single until I was thirty, but when I stepped back and had multiple nights to myself I had to wonder what I had been doing dragging all these boys to my house to meet my family. Frankly, I hate that. Don't be friends with my parents because then they want to talk to me about you. And furthermore, what the hell do I do with my nights now that you aren't in the picture? Riddle me THAT.

And so I have spent the last year in a variety of states: depressed over a broken heart, bitter about the lies and rumors that followed, furious at the overly delayed apology, homesick from Spain, and then finally in the spring.... free. I am writing this now, on the Fourth of July, and it comes as such a disappointment in me that I let a guy take my freedom. Now I'm not saying that he chained me to a bed and fed me graham crackers and water for two years, but I let him tell me that who I was wasn't correct. Bitch, please. When you want to tell me I shouldn't be so stubborn I will tell you how I talked down a rude bank manager in Spain and forced him to fix my account issues on three occasions.... in Spanish. Or I will tell you that you can suck it and that when I am your boss in five years you can file a complaint with HR. But for now I am just thrilled that on the Fourth I can finally look at myself and smile. I love me. It's just a fact. I am not sorry at all if you take issue with who I am. I take issue with the fact that our fireworks only lasted 10 minutes and were hyped up to be the best in five states, yet I can't change it and tomorrow I won't care. Sleep on it, and if you hate me tomorrow morning dump me over text messages and you know what? It won't faze me. I realized, one (toned down) negative roommate later, that not everyone is going to like me. If I accidentally date a few of those people, so be it. Because guess what: there are people I would enjoy making fall in a large hole and stay there. But seeing as I don't have that ability... I simply live life around them. Not that I don't get severely agitated and have the urge to crutch them or door them as I drove by, but at the end of the day I am busy reading nerdy things like the Economist and if you want to make my day suck a little that's your own prerogative.

And so that brings us full speed to today. I spent my day on the couch watching trash TV, and spent my night cuddling under the fireworks in a nearly gag inducing cute moment. And then instead of crying on the couch with ice cream, I kissed the boy who I used to think was probably the schools number one player (both of girls and of basketball) and secretly laughing inside at how if you had told me senior year as I judged his tall socks that I would end up dating him in a few summers, I would have told you that you needed to lay off the meth or move to Craig. When he left I watched an MTV special on Taylor Swift. She is my girl crush, it's true. I saw her in Madrid, playing her Speak Now tour, the weekend after Saint Pattie's Day. That had not been my finest night ever, and I'll leave out the details but will tell you a Life Lesson: don't drink vodka and then chug Guinness, no matter how many free Leprechaun hats they are offering you. Her music speaks to every event of the last year of my life to near perfection. And her curls are about enough to make me go blonde. But the greatest thing about her is that she truly is fearless. She will call you out in a chart topper and yet I have spent a year scared to get totally real with myself (let alone write about it on a blog.) I got my ass kicked by heart break last summer. And sometimes it still sucks. Even a year later. But then I look at who I grew into, and how much MORE stubborn I am. I refused to be sad and let it keep me down. I was stubborn for myself, for a change. I spent so long being determined that he deserved the chance and that the future was full of hope. You know what? That is total shit. In general I have realized that boys do not want to change. And if you see an area that needs to change in their life... run away. Most likely you will end up enabling them to NOT change. Because until "that" girl comes along, the one that is worth changing for and pulling their head out of their ass for, you are just wasting your time. And you might think you are that girl... you aren't. Just give up now. And if you get dumped right before he goes to freshmen year of college, here's the deal:

Freshmen boys want to have sex. Lots of sex. And they literally believe that they will show up at the dorms and girls will show up in bunny outfits and start raping them pleasurably. Sorry guys, if that seems rude, but let me ask you: if a hot girl showed up at your door freshmen year, would you have said no? I doubt it. Maybe you still wouldn't, and hey, more fun for you. But girls until you realize that you are worth more than a $40 Halloween costume to show off your boobs and legs and you are worth a guy who waits more than five minutes to get you naked: you are going to have horrible relationships. And even if you do wait for a guy who will wait at least ten minutes.... it still will probably suck! My friend Mark refers to it as "adding to the list of people that are NOT the right one, thus narrowing down the numbers of ones who could be."

Frankly, if you don't know you are worth the universe, you are screwed. And if he doesn't know he is worth more than his six pack abs, he is screwed. Because another fun fact is that there are a lot of bad girls out there, just like bad guys. And so we are left with the heavy burden of sifting through the bad ones and then stumbling upon a good one every couple rounds. Not to say that all guys are good, or bad. My ex was great, he really was. We were best friends and I still care about him. But the shit that went down last summer... not great. The last six months of our relationship was basically us being in denial that it obviously wasn't working. Which is what, after lots of thinking and analyzing, I realized was the issue. When you are not looking out for numero uno (yourself.......) and when you don't listen to what your head and heart are saying, then you are not in a healthy relationship. And if you head AND heart are saying get out, and you still ignore it... you have an issue. Like I did. You have lost yourself and your voice. Speak up! You are worth listening to. And in love, you need to be selfish. Because you deserve the best. Not one below the best or even a percentage less. So be stubborn. Be self-promoting. Be cocky. Because when you realize how great you are, when you do things that make you happy, that you enjoy doing, and you live your life the way you want: that is when you find love. You never hear people say "Well I went looking for a husband and found one." I heard a girl say she was 'going to find her husband that semester" and guess what... nope! You hear about your mom looking across a room at a stranger and knowing. Just knowing. At a dinner at her church for a group of skiers from Steamboat. And then after hiking and kayaking and fishing and doing all the things they loved to do individually, they fell in love. And then you came along and ruined all their fun by puking on them and eating all their food and draining all their energy. (Note.. if that sounds like your current significant other... guess what! That is what babies do! Not respectable adults.)

And so, after the best one year long relationship of my life, I am congratulating myself on how great I am. I would write myself a card and go buy flowers, but I am a cripple and can't. Instead I will go to bed tonight thrilled that I don't have a boyfriend (okay, well he hasn't asked yet but we'll see. The one year mark is over so now I can say yes. If I decide to.) and I have gotten even MORE cocky than I was accused of being before! I am great. It's a fun fact and everyone should know it. Probably I will be famous for how hilarious I am. Like the awesome pick up line I invented and will close with....

Are the seat heaters on? because your ass is SO hot! HAHHAHAAH!