Beware of the Cuddle Monster.

When you’re a kid, having a fear of entities such as the Boogeyman, the monster under your bed and clowns is the norm. People like myself still harbor those childhood fear right into adulthood but what’s amazing is the fears you develop in your twenties. You’re probably thinking, ‘what is she rambling about this time?’ Well, after being engaged the first time from ages 18-20, I developed a crippling fear of…


Yes, there are no spoons in my kitchen. There’s something about having that much intimacy with another person that makes me want to vomit my Kung Pao Chicken from dinner earlier tonight. Whenever I would tell my friends my huge disgust towards cuddling and spooning, they tend to have a baffling look on their face. They know that I like to entertain myself with the occasional one night stand or have a booty call from each borough on speed dial. My intense fear of cuddling though has been problematic, more recently than when I was in my mid-twenties.

Is there an unknown rule that women are supposed to be all about the cuddles? Clearly, I wasn’t at the meeting that day when the memo was sent out. You would think my body was set on fire with how fast I put my clothes back on. They would get mad that I don’t want to stick around. I mean, if I really wanted to, I would be in a relationship. Am I right? I believe in the ‘Hit and Run’ method. I hit that and I run for my fucking life. The last attempt I had a guy try to cuddle with me, I retaliated with a dutch oven. Yes, I am that disgusting but it was highly effective.

Will I ever break free of my fear? Highly unlikely but I just want the men of the world to know it’s not them. Unless they have really bad BO then it’s totes them.

Too-la-loo loves.


Unintentional Hiatus.

Well look at that, guys. I’m actually alive and kicking!



It has been a hectic few months with adjusting with the insanity of Post-Holiday retail and trying to make moves so I can afford craft beer and non-well shots when I venture to Manhattan. I guess when you work 45-50 hours a week, your blog kind of has to sit on the back burner for a little bit. But have no fear, Melissa Henry is here!!

For those you don’t leave on the Eastern Seaboard, we had a shitty winter. Due to the multiple occurances of the Polar Vortex, I was pretty much hibernating. I mean, who wants to go out in a short dress and heels when it’s 20 degrees out with a wind chill factor of -5? Not me, good sir! If I could stroll around the Meatpacking District with short shorts and strappy sandals, I totes would.

Summer is quickly approaching and it only means one thing for myself…


Sure, I know you guys love to read about the shit-show that is my love life but I want to switch it up! One thing that will be included from this point on is my favorite cheap spots all around NYC. Whether you’re in town for a week or live here and have no idea about these awesome places, I believe sharing is caring.

Until then my loves.

Resolutions are for Squares.

New Year's Resolutions







You hear the same things around this time every year:

I’m going to start a diet and lose weight!

I think I’ll become more adventurous.

Being frugal is something I should look into doing.

Whatever happened to being content with the person you are? It just might be me but New Year Resolutions are absolutely pointless. I have yet to meet an individual that has kept their resolution for 365 days. Sure, you want to sound like you want to have your shit together and accomplish something. Is there a need to announce it to the entire world though? Nothing irks me more than logging on to my Facebook page after an all night drinking binge to read people trying to change their lives.  All of these people that try to please the world made me vomit that morning, not the 12 shots of Jameson that I had from the night before.

You’re probably sitting in front of your computer thinking, ‘Who does this self-righteous bitch think she is?’ Let me explain quickly to you.  To quote Barney Stintson from the show How I Met Your Mother, “I Don’t Get Sad, I Get Awesome.” There. I used to dwell on the so-called imperfections in my life until the year I ended behind bars for being reckless and under-aged. In that moment, I started to give no fucks about anything that I did in my life. Sure, I’ve made shitty decisions but I owned those choices. Those particular bad life decisions has led me down the road to the person that I am today, so why change that?

Sure, I can lose a few pounds and stop making it rain at the bar by buying shots for strangers. That I should be saving up money so I can move out of my mom’s couch. I don’t need it to be January 1st of any year to make those “grown-up” decisions about how I should be living my life. In the words of a rampant toddler, I’LL DO WHAT I WANT.

By the way, Happy New Year guys. Continue to make bad decisions, I know I will.

Caught in Saran Wrap.

credit to

I was on a mission to have some serious fun this past summer. Meaning? I often tend to get myself in situations of one night stands. One thing I always forget to mentally prepare myself for is the inevitable stage-5 clinger. Why isn’t there a world wide memo for all of the single people in the world. There should be a handbook on how to tactfully handle a one night stand or a weekend of fun without coming off as a psycho stalker.

There has been a HUGE misconception that women are generally the one’s that attached to someone after having a moment of hot sweaty bliss. In reality, men are starting to react in that behavior. As a woman on the prowl, I come in with the expectation of no strings. Instead, I get clung on to like a dog in heat, humping on your leg. I mean, granted, the 7 shots of Jameson REALLY did me in. What do you expect? I’m at the Jersey Shore at a club, of course I was going to get free shots all night. But I digress. What had blown my mind was the amount of attention he was demanding post-coitus. Nothing is more annoying that a string of questions that would make someone come off as extremely needy. Why does it matter if this was a one time deal or if I liked you? You got what you wanted out of the night, so don’t make it more than what it was.

What it really boils down to is, Summer means no strings. Unless the person you plan on hooking up with it makes it common knowledge that they’re looking for something more, don’t make it more than what it is. I honestly thought the kid was cool to hang with before we got naked. Now? Not so much. Such a shame too because now when we are in the same room, shit gets hella awkward. Well in my defense, he makes it awkward for me and everyone else.  Remember folks, Saran Wrap is quite difficult to remove.

Summertime Sadness.

Three solid months of day drinking, trips to the beach and the peak of Wedding season. In all honesty, I would rather suffer through ANOTHER heatwave than have to see another post on Facebook about someone’s martial bliss.

Don’t get me wrong, I support all of the decisions that my friends make in regards of their love life. Especially the poor decisions, I encourage those. As I inch closer and closer to 30, I sense this unnecessary pressure to get hitched, buy a house and start a family. Having your peers tell you that you kind of need to grow up is ridiculous. I mean, I had no idea there was an age limit for me to have all night rage sessions with the small group of single friends I have left. Who really wants to be a responsible adult anyways?

Growing up, Summer felt like the time of year that being single was something people wanted. Fall and Winter was designated for intense cuddle sessions due to the chilly temperatures. If you happen to hate sweat and body contact as much as I do, Summer would be the worst for you as it is for me. Holding a sweaty hand? I’d rather sit through a Justin Bieber concert.

Marriage? It’ll happen when I’m ready to sign away all of my freedoms. In all honesty, I’m secretly holding out for that person. You know what I’m talking about. The supposed ONE.  There’s still a glimmer of hope that he’s gallivanting out there like the bumbling baboon I’ll fall madly in love with.  Let me not cause a small lapse in depression. With this obnoxious heatwave, it’s too hot to be sad.

It’s Really Me and Not You.


When having to pull the plug on a current situation you’re in, whether it’s a relationship or a booty call, using the right words is key. Having a strategy in the conversation the two of you will have has to be done precisely. The last thing people want to hear is an overused cliché. What if the cliché actually fit the situation? Then folks, by all means, USE THE DAMN CORNY LINE!

I really like to think from time to time, my outer shell is made out of titanium (cue David Guetta’s masterpiece). I have a sixth sense when it comes to dumping a guy before they realize they need to make any sort of move. Honestly, this is the greatest gift anyone can have because it potentially saves you any messy interactions. I am, not by any means, suggestion people to practice this method because I refuse to be held responsible for split ups.

Commitment? Scares me shitless. Let me be honest with you for a minute, well it depends on how fast you read this anyways. I’ve developed a male’s perspective of dating over the past 7 years of being “technically” single. I will divulge on technicalities in a future post. Believe it or not, I used to be all about getting married before being able to legally buy a bottle of Jameson. Someone smacked sense into me and luckily for you, I’m young, wild and free.

Anyways, I got off topic for a second and I apologize. I wholeheartedly live my life behind the phrase ‘it’s not you, it’s me’. I mean, it’s not your fault I don’t want a committed relationship from you, or is it? 9 out of 10 times, I’ll be honest with myself and really mean that’ it’s me who is looking for that scapegoat. That 1? I’ll save all of that juicy information for a drunk, emotional, heart-to-heart post that would probably come out just in time for Singles Awareness Day, whoops, I mean Valentine’s Day.

If you happen to be one of the unfortunate bastards that date me and get this told to you when my dating A.D.D. kicks in, fear not! I truly mean it with all of my heart, well what’s left of it anyways.


Catch you on the flip. xoxo Melissa

Being Single Ain’t Easy.

Don’t get me wrong, I love being single. The thought of being able to stay out until 4 am, drinking and hanging with friends without hearing someone complain about it is quite amazing. With people shacking up faster than the speed of light scares me a little. I mean, who would have thought 26, going on 27 would seem old in the settling down department? Not me, that’s for sure.

Pictures of keg stands and statuses about being hungover are being replaced with friends changing their relationship status to engaged or married. Let’s clear up one thing, I’m not bitter or resentful towards them. Everyone finds their zone of happiness at different points of their life and I haven’t found mine yet.

The journey starts here. Sure, I have a double Bachelor’s degree in English and Music but it doesn’t pay the bills quite yet. I love my retail job because honestly, they treat me the way I deserve to be, with respect. As I sip on my PBR tallboy (for those in the dark, a tallboy beer is a 16oz can) before $1 beer night, I reflect on my awesome single life. I mean, not having a stable relationship in the last 4 years isn’t a bad thing, right? I love to date around and testing the waters. I mean, why buy something without trying it on right?

Folks, that’s my mantra for love and I’m sticking to it.