dating

72 hours on OKCupid and I’m already exhausted

Laugh, Love

You know that saying that we all use to convince ourselves that doing something we’re hesitant about is okay: But everyone is doing it. Maybe we should heed our mother’s pat response of “If everyone was jumping off a cliff, would you do that too?”

I say this because for after years of hesitation, I talked myself into trying online dating because in this day and age, “everyone is doing it!”

mytype

How to GUESS if someone’s interested

Love

One Friday last year, near the end of the work day, I was sitting at my desk fixing my makeup when my office mate walked in catching me mid-lipstick application.

“Where are you going?”

“Meeting up with this guy.”

“A date?”

“Oh no! I don’t think it’s a date. More business, I think.”

“Then why are you putting on lipstick?’

single

Dating and the independent woman

Love

I have an ex who became a friend. Years later, we still hang out on a regular basis and on occasion, the question of “Why didn’t we work out?” comes up in our conversation.

His reason? I’m too independent. My reason? His issue with my independence.

sexomedy2

SEXomedy: Real talk about masturbation, body hair, and the joys of copy machines [video]

Laugh

Forget the crap you see in Cosmo with its glossy pictures and advice about how to keep your man satisfied! We need real talk, and actor/playwright/comedian/dancer/musician/activist, Melissa DuPrey brings it to us like she’s one of our Girls and we’re dishing secrets at a slumber party, in her one-woman show, SEXomedy. 

Lighter: The unanswered question

Mi Vida Loca

I walk by and something tells me to turn my head. I see you standing there and I both want to run away unseen and want you to turn and see me, really see me. I don’t want you to see that I miss you, but I want you to see that it was possible for me to become happy without you.

Yes, I miss you and the friendship we once shared. The days when we would talk for hours about everything and nothing.

I wish that we could start again. For the first time  in my life I wish I could turn back time, and armed with the knowledge that in trying to be more we would lose it all, we would make different choices. I wish that we would have stayed there; stayed in that moment before it became confusing, before the expectations changed, before WE became an unanswered question, even if only in my head.

But I am happy and to finally be happy I had to let you go. I had to let the question of WE go unanswered. I had to accept that I wouldn’t understand the whys. I accepted that your inability to care for me the way I wanted was not a character flaw in me, but simply the way you felt, nothing more and nothing less.

I no longer fall asleep and wake up with thoughts of you; wondering what, if anything, we are or what we are doing. The burden of hope unfulfilled was removed from my shoulders, and I am lighter: a feather.

I am floating among the clouds, looking down at the world, dreaming of possibilities long forgotten. The possibility that someone, someday, will be the person I hoped for in you.

purple stilletos

F*ck the glass slipper! It’s all about the purple suede stilettos

Moments

I almost typed the title of this post without the asterik, but figured I’d ease into the profanity on this blog. As I work to develop my writing voice I have to be authentic and the authentic me swears. Sometimes a lot. And as a good friend suggested when we discussed my blog, my blog requires the authentic me, the quirky, sometimes even crazy me.

Why today? Well, it goes a little something like this:

A little earlier I was stuck just staring at the monitor. I’d written two paragraphs of a blog, and even I was bored reading them. It was a nice little story, but just not me. Too careful. Too censored for niceness. The real me isn’t that nice. I’m completely random, sometimes snarky, and I swear. Wait, I already said that.  Anyway, I couldn’t finish what I had been writing. I decided to head to the grocery store to take a little break. On my way out I spotted ‘the neighbor’ walking his dog.

So yes, ‘the neighbor.’ He requires an explanation. Back in late March I was getting in a cab outside of my building when I heard someone say “Nice shoes.” I turned to see a very good-looking guy coming out of my building looking in my direction. I said a quick thanks, got in the cab and left. Ever since that day I’ve been curious about the guy who liked my shoes and what it meant that he liked my shoes: My purple suede stilettos.

Just last week I saw a good-looking guy with a dog come out of my building. He nodded, I nodded and as I walked away I wondered, “Could that be my ‘nice shoes’ neighbor?” So when I saw him again as I left to the store today I figured the only way I’d know was if I wore my purple suede stilettos ’till I found him again (my constant choice of flip-flops weren’t getting a second glance). Something like Cinderella except that the Prince may either have a foot fetish or worse, be gay.

But I digress, this post is really not about a guy or shoes. It’s about my blog and my writing voice, and as I continued walking and thinking about wearing purple shoes everywhere I go, I heard my brain say “Fuck the glass slipper! It’s all about the purple suede stilettos!” and I simultaneously laughed and thought “Oh my GOD, that’s the perfect title for a blog!”

And hence the decision to be more me. To be profane if I want to be. To admit via my writing what my closest friends already know and what Moments in My Head was always supposed to represent…the randomness of the thoughts in my head and the moments they create.