Results Datingdelightfulgirls C Sexual En 1 Dating Delightful Girls This Single Life

Last Day Ramblings

There really are few painfully ironic things as being a senior journalism major an essay away from graduating and having to make an appointment at the university’s Undergraduate Writing Center. Additionally concerning the writing center, you know they should really ahead of time that they don’t run through your paper and copy edit it…I mean like when I actually call to make the appointment. My UWC tutor decided it would be a great reason to kick off our session with the disclaimer that she probably wouldn’t even really look at my paper and as she said it I couldn’t help but think to myself, “So wait, then why am I here?” I mean it wasn’t like I was asking her to write it for me, because it was already done! If you cant get a UWC tutor to give your rough draft an overview, who exactly does that leave? Nobody. NOBODY. So I sat there for the next 30 minutes hating life and when the session ended, I said “thank you,” and walked out the door and muttered to myself, “for making me glad I’ll never have to do this again for the rest of my life.”

Oh wait…I’m a writer. So…I guess there’s a chance I’ll be doing this for the rest of my life after all. Ugh. 

So I grabbed my coffee cup that reads “Angie” (What? It’s just easier to give a fake name because really, name one barista who really cares enough to get your name right on a cup overpriced coffee. Um, yeah, didn’t think so. Plus, I mean it’s not a total lie, right, I mean it’s just a version of my name that I just happen to not go by at all.) and decided it best to call my losses, not just in time but also dignity, and immediately have visions of going back to my new favorite hobby of being a lazyass and attempting to watch the entire Netflix television catalog.

Thanks to Netflix, every show that people have ever been cult about, I’ve watched. Workaholics. Mad Men. Yeah, I been there. Parks and Rec. The Office. 30 Rock. Uh duh. ABC Family’s Greek. Shamefully…yes. What?! Look, there was a reason it was the only ABC Family original to ever make it past two seasons! It’s surprisingly clever in that “low expectations” sort of way. Definitely dipped my toes in Breaking Bad, Louie, and Archer. Now I’ve made it to United States of Tara and could not have been more pleased with the selection. Witty, clever and insightful take on modern crazy bitches.

So now that I’m done with that whole school thing, I’ll be blogging a lot more on this site. I’m not sure if you should be excited, but I am nonetheless. Like a wise person once said, “Anj, it seems like you write about dating a lot more than you actually date” and I said you know what, “you’re goddamn right I do.”

The New “Number”

This Just In: I’m about the coin a new term that a few months from now you’ll all be using casually, on Twitter and other blogs and such, and I’m writing this first paragraph to stake the claim that I actually came up with it. If there was anything I learned from the Lady Gaga, skinny jeans, and “stupid wasted” trends, it’s that you need to start making it known that you did indeed “come up with that shit.” The word is “love slut.”

This entire post was brought on by a conversation with my roommate that went a little something like this…but probably with more Rihanna in the background and one of us getting dressed for a date (and by “one of us” I think we can all safely assume it’s her):

Olivia: Hey Anj, what shoes do you think I should wear with these, wedges or sandals?

Anjli: Wedges, no, sandals, NO, wedges! Wait, where are you going again? NO, sandals, the cool-girl ones. On that note, hey Liv, what’s wrong with me?

Olivia; I don’t know, did you go to the bathroom?

Anjli: No, I mean, yeah I did, but that’s not what I mean. I mean, okay, I’m going to ask you something and I need you to answer me honestly, okay?

Olivia: No, Anj, I don’t think anyone noticed that you had a twig in your hair.

Anjli: I have a twig in my hair?

Olivia: Yes, but what’s new there? So wait, what’s wrong with you?

Anjli: I figured it out, and I’ve never been more ashamed of anything in my life.

Olivia: Really? I mean…you started guacho pants…

Anjli: Hey, I stand by those!

Olivia: You shouldn’t. Are you going to tell me what’s wrong with you?

Anjli: Liv, am I a love slut?

Olivia: What is a love slut?

Anjli: Well it’s like a girl who falls in love all the time.

Olivia: NO! You are not a love slut!

Anjli: Olivia, I’m 22 and have been in love twice. Come on, am I doing something wrong? I feel like I should be on 90210 and not the one from the 90s, the horrible new version with Drunkface and surprisingly worse wardrobe than the original.

Olivia: No, you cant help how you feel, plus it’s not like you date people all the time, I mean you, like, pick someone and stick with them for a long time.

Anjli: I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not yet. I mean I just feel like I keep meeting all of these guys who say they’ve never been in love before and they’re like, our age, and I’m just like, ‘Well, who the hell are the guys that I fell in love with if every guy our age goes around claiming to have never loved anyone before?” I’m beginning to feel that the number of times you’ve been in love is going to be the new ‘number,’ like instead of the number of people you’ve slept with.

Olivia: Well, shit.

Things just aren’t connecting. This is an age where everyone claims to be broken, jaded, wronged, and yet at 22, I’ve already added two the list of men I’ve loved. And the weirdest part of all is that, is that I cant help but feel a little guilty about it. Interestingly enough is that all of the people closest to me know how weird I am about love, how I reject it before I accept it, knowing that even the best loves come with the potential for the worst pain, so I calculate nearly every step I take in love and toward it. And yet, how did I end up with two? Two completely different loves that are actually surprisingly similar—both long-distance, both friends first, both genuinely good guys, both painfully stubborn (but then again, I guess I could be classified under the same category), both who’ve taken up a general avoidance of what it means to plan ahead, and both have made it into my life in a major way. While they share fundamental differences—like one being a person I admire and look up to and another more of person I often felt compelled to rescue from himself; one being lazy and unmotivated while the other is ambitious, brave and dedicated; one sweet and loyal while the other was perhaps more questionable—I can’t decide if I’m falling into a pattern or just learning from my mistakes.