Social media outreach: Bloggers Unite!

  Hey fellow bloggers! I have a question for you guys! I am currently trying to figure out what avenues to network with in order to get more of an audience for my blog. I have a Twitter account for my blog and I’ve set up an email account for corresponding with fellow bloggers on collaborative posts (collegelady17@gmail.com if you’re interested). 

Does anyone have any suggestions? Please help a fellow blogger out! It’d be greatly appreciated. 

I apologize if this looks like a funny formatted post, I’m writing from my phone. Thank you guys in advance for the help.

Perspective: My Boxes are Open

funny-pictures-i-cant-adult-today-dog

Well. Life has given me a lot of lemons lately. A lot of sour, beat up, soggy lemons. I don’t even want to make lemonade with them. In lieu of feeling like I’m losing my tiny little brain, I figured that I’d start a new mini series called Perspective. It’s the little reminder to myself that despite the hardships that I’m going through, I’m going to be okay.

There’s a certain analogy I’ve heard about men’s brains versus women’s brains. Men have all their thoughts in different boxes. One for family, one for sex, one for work, and so on and so forth. They open one box at a time. Women are much different. We have tons of boxes and every single one of those bad boys are open. We deal with everything all the time at the same time.  It’s really quite tiresome.

All my boxes have been open and I feel like I just need to purge.

I moved over the past week to an entirely different part of the US and I moved in with my dad. I’ve never lived with him before and after a week of being here I’m still not entirely convinced I made the right decision. I’m a twentysomething year old with depression and in order to get help I moved in for a support network.

That’s mature and adult-like…. Right?

Well, after a week of being here, I’ve found out that my dog has cancer. The one thing that had kept me glued together as I’ve dealt with my stress has been her and now we’re putting her down tomorrow evening. There was no other choice because of how aggressive it was and how old she is. We don’t want her to suffer.

But oh dear lord…. I’ve never had to put a dog down before.

I am angry. I am angry because I moved here and out of all the pets we have, my dog had to be the one to go so soon. I am angry at life because I feel like I’m failing at being a productive member of society. I am angry because I am taking a break from college for a semester while all of my friends from high school are getting married and graduating early while I’m single (but definitely not ready to mingle).

I cannot adult! Who let me adult??

The important thing to remember I suppose are the positive things. As a natural pessimist prone to extreme bouts of cynicism, it’s a little hard for me to do. I’m trying to think of positive things as I purge my thoughts right now.

I do get to be there for my dog Bailey tomorrow. I get to be there to comfort her. I get to be there for my little sister, who has had Bailey in her life since the day she was born.

Being back at home means I can save some money for college and have time to get some counseling. I won’t have to worry about rent or grocery bills. I can be there for my little siblings’ events and parties like I never have before.

I tend to keep all my boxes open at once and stress about things that have not yet even come to pass. It’s something I’ve always struggled with, but I feel like it has gotten worse over the past year. I look at where I was even a year ago, and I struggle with feeling like a failure.

Being an adult is hard. Figuring out a path for the rest of my life is so overwhelming and moving here has been a huge step out of my comfort zone. There’s so much change. I just have to keep perspective. I think that’s been the biggest struggle of all: positive perspective.

When to Let Go

Relationships are hard. Knowing when to let go is even harder. How exactly do you know when it’s time to let something go and move on? Well, I’ve seen the signs in my relationship, but short of being hit in the head with literal signs I feel like I’ve been ignoring all the metaphorical ones.

For me, I have the tendency to hold on to something even when it’s probably no longer healthy to stick around. Why? It’s because I hate giving up on a relationship. It’s not that I’m looking for Mr. Right at this point in my life. Shoot, I don’t even know what I want to be when I grow up and I’m in my twenties! It’s because I saw failed relationships growing up and I desperately want to be the type of person to work through problems so that way when I am to the point where I’m ready to be married I can make it last.

Relationships, however, seem to be my weak spot whether it’s being romantically involved with someone, a friendship, or a relationship with a family member. In reflecting over the past year and a half, I’ve noticed that there were certainly signs that I should have listened to, but in the midst of my depression I didn’t really take a stand when I should have. It’s not to say that my past relationship was a particularly terrible one (though if you ask my best friend or my dad I’m sure they’d have something to say), I just allowed him to think that I was okay with certain undesirable behaviors when I should have stood up for myself.

I think in relationships there are a few key signs into realizing when it’s time to move on:

  1. There’s distrust
    • For me, I probably should have broken it off with him the minute I stopped trusting him. I didn’t want to though. I felt like I was being paranoid and that I had nothing to worry about when in reality I was just ignoring his behaviors and his growing secrecy.
  2. Your friends stopping liking your significant other
    • About halfway through my relationship, the guy I was with owned up to doing some things that really broke my heart. Me being a dummy, however, stayed with him and forgave him. My friends didn’t see it as something to forgive. I didn’t want to listen to their thoughts on him, mostly because I didn’t want to admit that I was staying in something bad. At the time I felt like they just didn’t understand the dynamics of our relationship and that it wasn’t worth explaining.
  3. You’re no longer happy with him
    • It took me a ridiculously long time to accept it, but towards the end I just wasn’t happy. I didn’t trust him. I began to hate myself for staying with him, but also truly believed that what I felt for him was love and I wanted to give the type of love that I read about in church. The only time we really got along was when we were physically intimate, but otherwise we argued all the time and I could see his lack of trust towards me, which infuriated me. Why didn’t he trust me? It’s not like I had done anything to him other than get the courage to stand up for myself every once in a while. I couldn’t brag about him to friends anymore, because the times he tried to be a good guy felt like they were an afterthought after months and months of dealing with his mood swings and verbal abuse.

 

It wasn’t until I had a very dear friend be a perfect gentleman towards me and compliment me on my goofiness, that I realized I deserved better. I had been told that for months, but it took me a long time to truly believe it. If a friend that I had known for years, who saw me grow up during my awkward phase, could find me beautiful and funny because of my quirkiness rather than in spite of all of those things, then why couldn’t the guy I’d been dating?

It was certainly a valuable lesson that I feel will help me in future relationships. Ladies, if you’ve ever been in my shoes, it’s important to remember this: You should never date a guy with the mindset that he’s out of your league. He should be proud to date you and flaunt it. If you ever feel like you’re not worthy of him and he’s made you feel that way, run! It’s something I have to constantly remind myself. I am worth more than a man who only found me worth caring for when it was convenient for him.

I am nerdy, curvy, goofy, and damn proud of it!!

I look forward to the future to focus on myself and become independent and happy for me. I know that the next man I date will appreciate it and I can stay in it for as long as it’s healthy. Growing up is hard. This whole “adult relationship” thing is hard too, but I feel like I learned a lot and I’m ready to pick myself up and see what’s in store for me.

 

Depression is draining

First off, I’d like to apologize over my absence. I must have written a dozen starts to blog posts, but they never seemed to come to an end I was happy with. So rather than tell a funny story(I’ve had a few these past few months) or write about some unspoken truth, I decided to talk about depression.

Depression sucks. It just does. It is one of the most crippling helpless feelings I’ve ever experienced in my life. To add to its joyous occurrence (I mean that in the most sarcastic way) I also got diagnosed with high anxiety too.

So basically I had no motivation and was panicking about my future and the possibility of failure.

I grew up in a home where counseling wasn’t an option. It was simply an insult if you were deemed too weak or acting “dramatic” as my mom would call it. The situation that I lived in wasn’t healthy and it took me until college to realize that. Well, that realization and the loss of a relationship with my mom was sickening.

What do you do when the one major contributing factor in your life (regardless of the good and bad) suddenly is exposed as a lie? For me, I just spiraled downwards a bit. I went through a period of saying I was fine and to be fair I had an amazing support system from my dad and stepmom’s side of the family. Over the summer they were there for me and kept me together, but when I went back to college that’s when I realized that I wasn’t fine.

I hated that I couldn’t talk to my mother anymore and that when we did talk, the conversations were more destructive than progressive. I was also struggling with balancing classes that were rather difficult and a job that was much more demanding than I had anticipated.

I felt thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread (LOTR reference!) and I had to come to the realization that I couldn’t handle it all.

It was when I was sitting outside of a classroom waiting for class to start and I started uncontrollably crying for no reason that I realized I needed help.

That was probably the toughest part: I had to swallow my pride and admit to myself that it was okay that I couldn’t handle everything on my own. I had friends to help me get through it all, but it wasn’t enough.

So I went to the counseling center and also had a long talk with my dad over the choices I had to make and I scaled down the amount of busyness I had in my life. I cut the classes that I couldn’t handle and I quit the job so I could focus on grades.

My blog fell to the wind because I couldn’t find the strength to write about this, let alone admit that I was going through a rough time.

However, I’ve begun to heal and for the first time in months the keyboard seems to be my friend again. I understand that things are not always going to be easy and I know there’s a long road ahead of me, but for the first time in a while I feel hope.

I have deep respect for those who continue to deal with depression. I used to be one of those people who wrote it off as weakness, but after dealing with it I have to say I’m sorry for ever thinking that.

Depression and anxiety really suck and dealing with them together is a nightmare. You can’t sleep because all you think about is what you need to do and you don’t want to get up because you don’t think there’s a point to trying.

I started to abuse alcohol just to sleep and then I started to abuse NyQuil when I ran out of alcohol. I drank just enough that I couldn’t think anymore simply so I could fall asleep. I took two doses of NyQuil or ZzzQuil just to pass out quicker. I knew it wasn’t healthy and I certainly didn’t tell anyone let alone my support group.

I’m better now and I don’t do that anymore. I’ve learned to fall asleep using healthier options. I won’t lie, there are still nights when I’m awake stressing and thinking uncontrollably of the same thing over and over again until I finally pass out.

I am sorry for taking so long to blog, but thank you to those who take the time to read this.

I’ve also taken up photography again, so the photo at the top is one of mine I’m most proud of.

When did kindness in men become surprising?

I like men. I really do. They’re great at cuddling and making me smile and all that cheesy-gooey stuff.

However, in college it’s become a norm for men to approach me for nothing more than “a good time” or a relationship with no titles…and that bothers me.

Of course, I didn’t realize it bothered me until I met someone who was different. It’s making me rethink my choice in men…

For story’s sake, we’ll call him Chris. I can’t say I’ve had an epiphany and fallen for the guy, we only met a few days ago. In fact, I don’t find him physically attractive. He’s good looking, but not my usual type. However, I met him when I went out dancing the other day.

It wasn’t any grand moment, he just asked me to dance and I accepted. He was actually not the best at two-stepping, but he was trying and it was funny. We started talking and immediately hit it off. It probably didn’t help that we started talking about Lord of the Rings (my favorite trilogy) and nerding out about it.

It was wonderful.

We ended up dancing the whole time and it was great. I hadn’t really ever had the opportunity to put all of my personality out there at once and have it just accepted. It was nice. I know that sounds really corny, but hey, it’s true.

I am taken with him not because of his looks, but rather his intelligence. We hung out again today with friends and we just talked for two hours. It felt like minutes. He has a certain charisma that is very interesting and alluring.

Men, just know, intelligence and a great personality is very attractive.

Now granted, the idea of dating him is a little “eh” at the moment. I just know I like being around him and he surprised me with his genuine character. He was talking and flirting and instead of saying something dirty or “seductive”, he simply asked if he could take me to dinner…

Why did I find this so surprising…

When did it become commonplace in college for courting to be obsolete and wild hookups or easy relationships to become a thing? It sucks.

Don’t get me wrong, I like a little wildness in my life, but that idea of courtship and friendship first was something I had almost believed was a girlish fantasy.

To find it in someone, regardless if he ends up just as a close friend or something more, is so incredibly refreshing.

So to the men out there, particularly the college men, don’t be afraid to woo a women with kindness. It’s one of the best feelings to be immediately respected without having to say that.

Boundaries are nice and personally, I think it’s much more attractive to have a man flirt and say he wants to take me to dinner than say he wants to seduce me or something of that nature.

Now I’m not saying these men are rare, but women, we have to encourage them not to be the jerkish buttmunches that are breaking our hearts!

To all the nice guys, don’t give that up. There are those of us who really like that.

Four eyes are sexier than two

Glasses: The universal symbol for the socially awkward nerd or the uptight librarian. When I think of glasses I think of the intellectuals, the Comicon fanatics, the hipsters, and those particularly proficient in the game of Magic.

In my head….I was not the one to wear glasses. I denied my inner nerdiness. However, it seemed as if the universe was aiming to make me embrace it.

I had an eye exam appointment scheduled last week and I was sure my vision was just fine. Growing up with my mom, the concept of annual eye exams were not a thing she thought to be important so I never had one. Visiting my dad led me to an eye exam which I thought was overrated, but went anyway.

At the exam they made me stick my head in what looked to be a torture device. It was. I pressed my eye into the machine where they proceeded to blind me with a bright green light. Apparently they were taking pictures of the inside of my eyes but I think they just like to watch us walk around with our vision impaired….

Once I got through with the initial tests the doctor had me look at letters and read them off. Surely no one can read those last two lines right? Wrong. She adjusted my vision with lenses and oh dear god I could see! The letters were clearer, the world was new, and the slow realization I was getting glasses began to dawn on me.

I picked out my frames with a mix of mild frustration and fascination. I chose a simple pair that would match with any outfit and went on my way to wait for the new pair.

Yesterday I got the call that they were ready and I carefully picked out an outfit that I knew would go well with them. Yeah…I did that. When I got them I put them on and sat in my car for a good ten minutes just staring.

Dear lord I look like a librarian, I thought to myself. I stared a bit longer…

Throughout the day I continued to stare. I was fascinated with the new me. I continued to like it more and more. In fact, I decided I was at least a sexy librarian. Besides, as I watched BBC’s Sherlock Holmes Irene Adler herself said that “brainy was the new sexy.” And the glasses made me look brainy. So clearly, the glasses made me look more attractive.

I’ve learned something with my new glasses. I embrace it. In fact, I like the way I look with glasses better than without them. Plus, I’m a blogger and a journalism major, so I definitely fit the role.

So here’s to all those who wear glasses. Raise your cups of coffee or whatever you’re drinking at the moment you hipsters, you Magic aficionados, you intellectuals, and you Comicon fanatics! Raise your cups in union as the group of people who looks sexy, because damn we all look good!

Four eyes are definitely sexier than two…but for those who don’t wear glasses, well, you’re sexy too.  

The phases of roommate relations

Ah the dorm life. It’s just great. Privacy becomes a thing of the past. You get to shower in stalls while someone else’ shower water splashes your toes from the adjoining stalls, listen to the sound of alcohol saturated women stumble in the hallway trying to find their rooms, and best of all you get to poop in community style bathrooms….

And being women we know exactly who is stinking it up by the shoes you’re wearing (Ugg season is everyone’s savior in the bathroom). Privacy is really nonexistent.

However, the most interesting thing about college is the roommate situation. More often than not you’re going to end up with a stranger. Being squished in a 10 foot by 15 foot room is so much fun. Especially when the periods sync. Then it gets really fun.

Now let me just say that my roommate and I get along great now. In fact, she’s one of my closest friends…but it wasn’t always that way. Our roommate relationship went through three phases:

  1. The “Let’s be best buddies forever!!!” phase
  2. The “I’m about to shank a b***h!” phase
  3. The “No shame…” phase

The first phase lasted for a grand total of a month and a half. We got along famously. If either of us were hungry we’d go get something to eat. If either of us wanted to do something fun we’d go out and do stuff together and then of course return to our room where we got to spend even more time with each other. We shared a tv, microwave, and a mini fridge. It was like living in a Bob Marley song, it was all happiness…

Minus the cannabis. Just saying.

And then of course phase two hit… We got tired of each other. Really, really tired of each other. It’s one thing if you’re upset with someone and you can separate yourself for a while, but no, being mad at each other meant angrily staring at opposite walls.

The lack of communication and constant tension continued to build until one day things exploded over a sweater… through angry text messages…

Yeah, real mature right? My generation in a nutshell…

Anyways, we went overboard. Everything that was hers went on one side of the room and everything that was mine went on the other. It was as if we had erected the Berlin wall between us. We weren’t going to do anything, but we sure as hell were going to be as intimidating and silently angry as possible. This continued the rest of first semester. I got my own fridge and microwave, and the tension stayed there.

Thankfully we had a month off for winter break and had the chance to get away from each other. When we came back from break things were still awkward. The room was still split down the middle and covered with ice( a metaphor for the awkwardness that was still there). It wasn’t until we had a nice random conversation about why our boobs annoyed us that things finally calmed between us.

Yes, boobs saved us. And yes to the men reading this, we women do in fact talk about our boobs. On a somewhat regular basis actually.

This is when phase three hit…

After our argument and the newly-made friendship that followed, nothing was off limits. We simply didn’t care. We talked about everything. There was no subject left untouched. And don’t even get me started on how comfortable we got. I could walk in the room from taking a shower and toss my towel to the side and search for clothes without her ever even blinking in surprise.

We simply had no shame around each other. We lived in the same room and after being stuck with that person for several months you just learn to not care.

It was great. I could go pants-less to bed and not feel awkward about it.

By the end of the year we were close friends and I was sorry that our roommate life was ending. She was getting an apartment one place and I was moving to a different one. To this day she is still one of my closest friends.

Having a roommate is hard, but it teaches a great lesson. You learn how to deal with people you might not otherwise interact with on a day to day basis.

On a completely random note, shout out to Ronovanwrites for helping to get my blog out there. His blog content is really cool and has something for everyone. He’s also one of the most polite and kind bloggers I’ve had the chance to come in contact with. Check him out!

When toots let loose…

Here’s an honest truth: we all toot. Even women. Yes, I’d love to say when it happens to us females it smells like rainbows, sunshine and joy, but it just doesn’t. It sucks.

But God forbid we let men know that!

I know when I’m on a date and a storm begins to brew in the…rectal region, I suddenly have the most impressive sphincter control. Let no muscle go unclenched!! He must not know I toot.

But what happens when that veil of ignorance is shattered on a date? Ha! Allow me to enlighten you…

I was hanging out at Jeff’s house (yes the same Jeff that lit fire to my lady parts, see Too much spice in my love life) enjoying a quiet evening of movies and good conversation, we had been clear of awkward moments for at least a good month….needless to say we were obviously due for another round of it.

In the midst of playful arguments and teasing Jeff began to tickle me. Now tickling isn’t dangerous thing, but mixed with whatever Satan-given food I had ingested earlier that day….well let’s just say it was like shaking up a can of soda.

One minute I was laughing and trying to push him away and then IT happened. I would love to say it was cute and dainty like a fairy’s giggle but NOPE! I apparently am not that lucky. It was like the mating call of an elephant seal or something horribly awkward.

Jeff froze. I stared at him like a deer in headlights. For a second he looked embarrassed (later he told me he thought HE had done it) and then realized I had been the culprit. What was worse, I had a stuffy nose from allergies so I couldn’t smell a thing! I had no idea if it was just loud or if I had suddenly released toxic fumes from Hell.

“Oh my god don’t breathe!” I yelled breaking the shocked silence. He burst out laughing as I began to tear up, completely embarrassed. To make matters worse, as he brayed like a freaking donkey he quickly got up and found a can of Febreeze.

“It smells?!” I asked horrified. Jeff only laughed harder and sprayed.

“I don’t know, my nose is stuffed too!” he laughed. Tears were coming from his eyes from laughter…jerk.

Still horrified I kept repeating, “I’m so sorry. Oh my god, I am so so sorry!” as if I had purposefully passed gas in front of him.

As his fits of hysteric laughter subsided he assured me that he wasn’t grossed out by it, only surprised that I was capable of such a thing.

He gave me hell about it for weeks until inevitable he slipped up accidentally and evened the playing field.

Men, please realize we pass gas. We do our best during the dating phase to hide that fact but try not to be judgmental if it happens.

Women, it happens. Chances are he’ll laugh it off and probably end up rating it on a scale of 1 to 10 on the “epic” factor…..I don’t understand men, but girls don’t be mortified if it happens.

We all fart.

I am NOT Megan Fox in the bedroom…

 

There are a lot of moments in life, especially in mine, that require a palm-to-face response. In my later teen years, I read a lot of sweetheart romance novels that defined “sexy time” as easy going and passionate. You never saw any of Nora Robert’s characters epically failing at seduction!

I, however, am not one of Nora Robert’s characters. In fact, I am quite the opposite. If there was an anti-Christ of seduction, it would be me! It just doesn’t happen for me. I cannot count the amount of times that I have had a set scene in my head and the execution of it failed with flying colors.

One of the more memorable moments occurred when I tried to strip tease for my boyfriend at the time…

We had been together for a while at that point and I wanted to bump things up to the next level. I spent the afternoon at the mall carefully finding the perfect outfit…I wanted to look Hot, like Megan Fox hot…

I splurged on a sexy pair of underwear and a matching bra and decided I was going to show up in a cute top and leggings (I spent my budget on the undergarments…college problems).

That night I showed up to his place, movies in hand and wearing what I thought to be an enticing outfit. He happily grabbed the movies, gave me a kiss and plopped down to put the movies in. I sat on the couch hoping he’d notice the cleavage that was slightly peeking out of the top I’d chosen….he glanced over but said nothing.

As the movie progressed I grew impatient and leaned in closer with my chest angled towards him…still nothing. “So I bought something new today,” I said trying to get his attention.

“Did you?” he replied back, turning towards me. I asked him if he wanted to see and slightly confused he nodded. I stood up in front of him and as best as I could slowly peeled off my top.

He was paying attention now.

Encouraged, I looked at him, smiled and put my hands on my leggings and started to shimmy them down. As I pulled them down his eyes became super focused and widened.

He shouldn’t be that excited yet, I thought to myself. But something felt wrong. I was getting way too much air in my downtown regions. I looked down and what I saw took a second to register in my head.

The underwear I had bought was thin so it had rolled down with my leggings, leaving my lower area completely exposed…

Anyone else would have gone with it but no, not me. I panicked. I immediately squeaked in embarrassment and sat down as quickly as I could onto the couch while yanking the leggings back up.

My boyfriend fell to the ground laughing. I was mortified. I was not ready to be so bold in bright lighting. To make matters worse I conked my head against the side of the couch as I rolled to hide my face, which only made him laugh harder.

In the end, the night went successfully but he never let me live it down. Needless to say I never tried to strip tease again, and he certainly never asked. But boy how he loved to bring it up…