I’m not dead….yet

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Hello world! Well, the 3 of you that actually read this. Sorry for being so neglectful of this blog but you know, work owns my life. Yes, those long hours has taken a toll on my creative mojo but hopefully with all of my future writing endeavours, I can give my love to all of you.

Boy, a lot has happened since January and I can’t wait to share with all of you. If I have to bring my laptop to work to blog on my break, I will do it because I know some of you like to read what I have to say.

On that note, I guess Pinkstar (my laptop’s name) is coming with me to work tomorrow ūüôā

To da loo bitches,

Melissa

You’re Not the One I Wanted After All.

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We all have that one person in our romantic past; the one that was apparently the one. You doodle their name encircled in hearts all over your Intro to Literature notebook and you swear that the sun shines brightly out of their ass. The two of you date for certain amount of time then out of nowhere…

You get dumped for no fucking reason.

Now, your story doesn’t end there because you’re a sadist and consistently go on and off with this person for an extended amount of time, substantially longer than the initial relationship. Well, there are the occasional filler people you would have during your down time but this torturous relationship has become so routine that when it finally stops,¬†you crave it.

Exhibiting mild symptoms of addiction such as obsession, withdrawal and social isolation, people around you are there to have you break that cycle in your life. When you become successful, the littlest of relapse can become detrimental to your entire being, both physically and mentally. Honestly, after going back and forth with this selfish piece of shit for¬†8 YEARS, I thought that chapter of my life was complete. Like shit bro, I gave you 29.6% of my life, just be like Felicia and go. ¬†For the last 13 months, I was in a great place in my life due to the reduced amount of stress that I was experiencing. Then one night…

He decided to call me at 2am on a Saturday night.

Of course, I was with my girl friends at the closing night of a Midtown bar, 5 Jameson shots deep when I noticed I had a few missed calls. The initial thought was like, he must be dying because he basically told me to go fuck myself the last time we made contact. Normally, I would have my over analytical mindset talk me out of answering those calls, the whiskey induced hornball brain I had decided to take a different approach on the situation. I humoured him because, yes, I was incredibly horny and the last encounter I had been less than promising. After the 2 hour escapade that involved a hot tub, I reverted to the crying, emotional 25-year-old I was when he finally decided to end all romantic ties with me, 2 years before he decided to sever all ties with me.

I never had an outer body experience before this moment and it freaked me out. Must have been the 3 additional shots of Black Label I had when we got together that but that experience was needed. One thing you never want to do is destroy something you had a struggle rebuilding and I was not going to do it to myself again. Arguing with him for another hour before knocking out was mentally exhausting because it rehashed emotions that I wanted gone. Makes me cringe even typing about this right now because I almost damaged the progress I made in the last 13 months.

So when I did the walk of shame home, I texted him, demanding to know the reason why I was contacted out of the blue. Now, if he had been honest and said he wanted to have a booty call, I would have been alright about it but he wouldn’t give me a direct answer. After giving him the proverbial finger, I deleted the text and hope to never hear from him ever again. Even then, that would be too soon.

I never want to be that girl that allows someone to destroy her confidence because she doesn’t feel like anyone wants to be with her. He knew how to fuck with my heartstrings and I finally realized that I don’t need that in my life. No one deserves to have a person undermine their self-esteem. Now, I honestly want to have physical relationships with people with no emotions. Less mess that way and plus, I love making new friends with cute boys.

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Stay Single my Friends,

Melissa

New Year, Old Me.

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It’s that time of year where every single person in your life is going to attempt to live by the mantra, “New Year, New Me.” Why should anyone wait until January 1st of a new year to change themselves as a person. More importantly,¬†why change period? For me, 2015 would probably more of a regression than a progression in certain aspects of my life. You’re probably screaming profanities at your screen because people should move forward and not backwards. To a degree, I do agree with you but when it comes to personal relationships, taking a few notes from the past could be beneficial.

The Holidays Season is the time of year where people have a minor crisis because when they log into any social media platform, they cringe when they see engagement and pregnancy announcements. Instead of enjoying the freedom they have, they want to squander it all by forcing a monogamous relationship that did not develop organically. Take a minute and truly reflect on what is going on in your life before you drag someone in your hot mess. Personally, I’m too much of a catastrophe to let anyone else in and I’m completely content with that. Remember, do you boo boo but at the same time, don’t completely re-mold your life in order to confide in what people would consider social norms and shack yourself in a relationship. Desperation is and will never be a cute look.¬†Ever.

So in honor of reverting back to a younger me, I’m going to revisit my life circa 2009. This was a time in my life were I was slowly losing whatever shame I had in my life at age 23. Granted, I’m a little more financial stable now than I was at the time, I loved my mind set then. Being all about partying and just enjoying the company of various guys allowed me to never be in a state of routine. Now that I’m fully aware that the concept of a monogamous relationship disgusts me and not a possibility, let me enjoy the end of my twenties the way I want, as a single broke hot mess.

 

Whelp.

I think I made a resolution.

 

Oh Well. Later

Trying It Out Before You Buy.

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I always loved this saying since I was a child, obviously before I knew the actual meaning of the phrase.

“Why buy the cow if you can get the milk for free?”

The negative connotation behind this phrase makes me mad. Why is sampling the product before you make an investment such a terrible thing? You don’t get heat for test driving a car before you take it out of the lot, right? So why give me grief if I want to see how the chemistry before I want to get to know him at all? One thing I hate more than anything is wasting my time because time is something I find precious. Another reason? If I wait too long to see what’s going on under the hood, I might miss the window for the return policy and I don’t want an even exchange.

Sure, I tend to hook up far more frequently now I’m in my late 20s than I did when I was in college but I’m trying to get a feeler on what’s out there. The curiosity factor comes into play; you’re wondering how that person is in bed. People have personas that make them seem one type of way but behind closed doors, it’s like the Jekyll/Hyde effect. There has to be something about the effect that alcohol has on an individual because for some reason, I always have to do the dip as soon as the deed is done. I usually have no problem doing the walk of shame but at the same time, it would be better if it was actually worth it.

A potential pitfall about this method is that you find that one¬†amazing hook up and come to realize that it was a one time deal. It has happened a few times in the past and it’s a fucking shame because it’s a tease. It’s like, you try an amazing piece of cake and come to find out that the sole baker of that cake moves away, thus you not having that cake again for the rest of your days. It’s a terrible way to live, right? I mean, not that terrible but if you want that cake again, you’re shit out of luck.

So don’t ever feel ashamed about testing out the waters before jumping in. You don’t want to dive in and getting hurt because you didn’t realize it was a shallow end.

 

Tootles Bitches,

Melissa

Guess Who Is Not Coming To Dinner.

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I mean, luckily for me, this wouldn’t be a pressing topic during this year’s bird fest at my mom’s house.

Honestly, I can’t remember the last time I brought a boyfriend or even a date of the opposite sex home for Thanksgiving. For all I know, my ex-fiance might have been the last guy to set foot into my mom’s house and we split in 2006. So if I do my calculations correctly, it’s has been 9 fucking years I’ve been flying solo during Turkey Day. The silver lining to not bringing a date, more food to stuff my face with and not worrying about getting too drunk and embarrassing my date. A box wine or 3 is what I usually ingest during EACH holiday. What can I say? Not a fan of the holiday season.

Dawning on me this year that it will be just be me and my mom during our fest, kind of made me realize that I’ve been single during every Holiday since I was 19. For some reason, I avoid relationships like the plague during the months of October and March. Could it be that I hate the fake interest that my family imposes on a potential suitor during introductions? Or maybe I’m too much of a cheap ass to buy someone not only a Christmas gift, but something for Valentine’s Day? Whatever the reason it is, just happens to work out for me in that way. Sometimes, it’s better off to not rock the boat.

Being told countless times that the Holiday season is the perfect time to be love is a crock of shit. My line of work is retail and if the last two week has been an indication of anything, I won’t have time to shower, let alone date. Next Wednesday is Thanksgiving Eve. For those that live under a rock, it’s one of the biggest party nights of year, up there with Cinco De Mayo and St Patrick’s Day. You get to see all of your friends that are home for Thanksgiving and get shit faced because¬†everyone is off from work the next day. If I play my cards right, I’ll be with my ladies and maybe sucking some dude’s face for the night.

Taking a few days off from partying in anticipation of this crazy single girl Holiday season is what needs to be done. Good for Charles Manson for¬†finally getting married. He’s 80 years old and in prison so I have plenty of time to fall in love before getting hitched. Like 52 years is a long ass time because for all I know, the man of my dreams isn’t born yet.

Too-la-loo bitches!

One Strike Left.

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So in my line of work, the glorious world of retail, I get to interact with people from all walks of life. It was stupid slow where there was more workers than customers one day, so we got to have full blown conversations. There was a person, I come to find out was in her early 30s with one of her kids. When I told her I was childless and single at 28, she said, “Good, because you’re too young anyway.”

Wait a minute, did this lady read my blog? Didn’t we have a conversation about this a few days back? In all seriousness, I was taken aback by her comment because I’ve felt nothing but pressure lately to get hitched. We continued to converse and discovered the source of her comment. She got married at 22, the same age I would have gotten married from my first engagement. Not once mentioning her husband, made me wonder if they were in a good place or not.

Psh, probably not.

Being engaged twice, at 19 and 26, were two life changing experiences for me. Yes, I just broke off an engagement about a year ago. There was no way I could commit myself to someone when I change my mind about things every 30 seconds. Another thing that made me walk away from both guys is that I clearly love myself more than I ever cared about them. Call me selfish, I don’t give a fuck, but I am my number 1 priority in my life until the day I die. No one, and I mean¬†no one, loves me like I love me. Plus, who needs a man when I’m just a two train trip to the West Village where I can buy a vibrator. Am I right? Sure, it does get lonely from time to time but when I hug my ladybug Pillow Pet at night, the pain subsides.

With that being said, the thought of looking for a relationship is the farthest from my mind. The pressure of marriage still looms over my head and I’m fed up with this shit. At this moment, I am experiencing little to no stress because of the fact that I don’t have a guy barking at me for living my life. Now, I get to go out, get as shit faced as I want and don’t have to worry about making someone look bad because apparently, I only attracted judgmental bros. I’m awesome on my own too, you know.

Bye Felicias.

 

Paola Melissas

 

Ain’t Nobody Got Time for That.

Ah, yes. Recently, I’ve been getting asked that infuriating question as I approach the big 2-8. It would get paraphrased in ways such as ‘Shouldn’t you settle down already?’, ‘You’re getting too old for one-night stands’, or my personal favorite, ‘You can’t really afford to be picky with guys at your old age’.

Let’s go back in time shall we?

Since the beginning of this millenium, I was not single. Yes, I was that person that was in relationship after relationship until I was 26. That’s more than a decade of not being single and always having a guy breathing down my neck. I will admit that I had daddy issues growing up in a sense that I felt the need of validation from a man to feel complete. There was a time in my life that being in a relationship, good or bad, was the key to my happiness. Now? Not so much.

10 boyfriends, 2 fiances and thousands of tears dropped, I feel like I’m truly living. I mean, there were breaks in between relationships while in college where I did have a¬†friend or two but nothing to the degree that I am experiencing right now. To truly be free to do what I want and not giving any fucks is the most liberating sensation I have ever felt. Example? When I was with my first fiance from 17-20, I couldn’t even go to a dorm party that was down the hall. Now that I can do what I want, going out on a Tuesday night and pounding $1 bud lights then making out with a hot guy is what I do on a weekly basis.

I’m not saying that I wouldn’t be accepting of meeting an amazing guy and falling in love. What the point is, that is I’m not looking vigorously for it. There is nothing that can tell me that being single when I’m closer to 30 than 20 is wrong or shameful. Every person works on their own time frame and there needs to be an understanding of that. Yes, I like being single and having fun because I didn’t get to truly experience it before turning 25. You could ¬†say I’m playing catch up but then again, who asked for your opinion bro?

Before you shun that really great friend of yours for not getting married, put yourself in their shoes. They’re saving a shit ton of money from not planning a wedding or feeding a miniature human life form so if they want to go to Bali or Madrid on a whim, they could. They are the jet-setters, the social butterflies and the risk takers. Living life the best way possible and on their own terms. If I have a bad time taking care of myself with a hangover after a night of binge-drinking with 22 year olds, how could I possibly take care of a tiny life form. Clearly, your expectations of me are unrealistic.

Now, if you don’t mind, I might go galavanting¬†and drink some cheap brews because I can do whatever the fuck I want.

Too-la-loo fuckers,

Melissa.