I've been living in Boston for 4 months now. If there is one thing I've noticed in Boston, it's that everyone, and I am talking everyone, is part of a couple. Therefore, I'm starting a club. A Single Ladies club. Current enrollment: 2. (Ha! And you thought it would be one!).
That's right, I've made a single girl friend. We met at a 4th of July BBQ. I scored her number. We met up for drinks. And yesterday our relationship moved up to the next level, when after hanging out all day, I brought her to a work guy's BBQ. That's right I had a plus one. I never have a plus one!
With her being new in town as well, we've been noting a general fact: As an adult, it's difficult to make friends. We're not playing double dutch at recess, we're not sharing gossip on the volleyball bus, and were not pregaming in our dorm rooms. Making friends as an adult is a whole new ball game. Especially in Boston, where everyone is cold, clique-y, and coupled.
Cold, clique-y and coupledness also makes it difficult to date, which is another thing my Single Ladies club has agreed upon. Even my new hair dresser concurs. "Everyone in Boston is either a couple or a miserable asshole." Grrrreat. She also claimed she had read somewhere that Boston was supposed to one of the worst cities for dating. To which I said, WHHHHAAAAT?!?! Before I started packing up my shit to get the hell out of this city, I decided to do some research. Luckily, I found no truth to the claim, which is good because I really didn't want to have to quit my job. Actually, in 2008, Forbes named Boston the 7th best city in the U.S. for singles (but perhaps in the past 2 years everyone has coupled up?). What was the best/where should you move next? Atlanta, the home of our very own, Violet J. Bickerstaff. So that's why they call it "Hotlanta".
P.S. Violet hates when they call it Hotlanta.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Single ladies deserve pancakes too!
One of my only single friends sent me a recipe just for us, the single lady pancake. Because singletons enjoy gooey goodness just as much as the next girl. I know what I'm making Sunday morning...
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Making Up The Numbers
Last week my friend invited me out to dinner with her, her fiancee, friends of hers who are also getting married next year and her other friend Edward. Before you get thinking my friend was trying to be sly and set me up with someone I should make you all aware of a few things:
1. Edward lives in the middle east
2. He has recently broken up with his girlfriend
3. When I say break up I mean break up, they were engaged, had set a date for the wedding and people had booked tickets to fly over for it. To New Zealand.
Oh no, I wasn't being set up, I was there to make up numbers, to make sure that Edward didn't feel uncomfortable surrounded by two loved-up couples. Forget Edward feeling uncomfortable, what about me?!
Things didn't get off to a great start, he was over an hour late and we were all hungry. By the time he did show up he was wasted. Absolutely plastered/pissed/very, very drunk. And this guy is 6"7, not an easy task I should think.
While we were at dinner the talk of the table was weddings. All about weddings. At one point the other bride said to my friend, another bride: "I can't imagine spending £10,000 on a wedding." My friend replied: "Oh I totally agree." I almost choked on my chicken. I happen to know that both sets of parents are contributing £10,000 to my friend's wedding fund. So maybe my friend was telling the truth, she can't imagine spending £10,000 on a wedding, but she can imagine spending £20,000.
Both myself and Edward were swiftly losing the will to live. Then my friend starts grilling him about his ex and how the break up went and did he keep the ring? I asked if he wanted me to change the subject. I have never seen anyone look so gratefully at me. Of course all I could think to ask was whether they had Glee in the middle east. They do.
I fear this has what it has come to. Surrounded by soon-to-be smug marrieds whilst desperately trying to steer the conversation away from weddings because it's upsetting the jilted drunk groom.
And might I just say, I am pretty damn good at it. And it's all down to Glee.
1. Edward lives in the middle east
2. He has recently broken up with his girlfriend
3. When I say break up I mean break up, they were engaged, had set a date for the wedding and people had booked tickets to fly over for it. To New Zealand.
Oh no, I wasn't being set up, I was there to make up numbers, to make sure that Edward didn't feel uncomfortable surrounded by two loved-up couples. Forget Edward feeling uncomfortable, what about me?!
Things didn't get off to a great start, he was over an hour late and we were all hungry. By the time he did show up he was wasted. Absolutely plastered/pissed/very, very drunk. And this guy is 6"7, not an easy task I should think.
While we were at dinner the talk of the table was weddings. All about weddings. At one point the other bride said to my friend, another bride: "I can't imagine spending £10,000 on a wedding." My friend replied: "Oh I totally agree." I almost choked on my chicken. I happen to know that both sets of parents are contributing £10,000 to my friend's wedding fund. So maybe my friend was telling the truth, she can't imagine spending £10,000 on a wedding, but she can imagine spending £20,000.
Both myself and Edward were swiftly losing the will to live. Then my friend starts grilling him about his ex and how the break up went and did he keep the ring? I asked if he wanted me to change the subject. I have never seen anyone look so gratefully at me. Of course all I could think to ask was whether they had Glee in the middle east. They do.
I fear this has what it has come to. Surrounded by soon-to-be smug marrieds whilst desperately trying to steer the conversation away from weddings because it's upsetting the jilted drunk groom.
And might I just say, I am pretty damn good at it. And it's all down to Glee.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Natural pheromones
Yes yes, I'm finally blogging about our trip. I'm also finally getting around to doing my laundry and I promise you, the smelly backpack roasting in the heat was a much more pressing matter. Why does it smell you ask? Let me paint you a picture. In the midst of the pristine beaches , cloud rain forests, and an active volcano, were two sweaty, smelly girls with unwashed hair and unkempt eyebrows . No, Violet and I do not look good when we travel. We choose function over flattery, makeup and hair products never make it on the list, and to top it all off, due to a rash, I was not to wear deodorant. That's right I didn't wear deodorant the entire trip. If the animals couldn't see me, they could definitely smell me (just ask Vi).So what better time to meet my perfect match. It's as if the Costa Rican gods were playing a cruel cruel joke on me, picking him up out of the abyss and placing him a seat away from me, eager for conversation. If there were ever a man that was my type, The Bearded Wonder is it. Beard? Check. Funny? Check. Lovably goofy and outgoing? Check. Young professional, loves to travel, knows how to cook and appreciates the art of a well-crafted beer? Check. Even Violet had a crush on him (A friend crush she says, a you-should-marry-my-sister crush).
The Bearded Wonder is from Washington, D.C. (boooo!) and was traveling Costa Rica alone for the week. We met him on a boat. Chatted with him on the bus and ended up rooming with him in the hostel for two nights. We cooked dinner with him. We went hiking with him. We laid in bed giggling with him (ok he wasn't in our bed, but his ramblings were making us laugh). He did not annoy us. He did not care how much we sweat (he sweat plenty). He did not rob us. He did not plant illegal substances on us to enter the country with, a la Fucking Jed in Bridget Jones (which is good considering 1. neither of us have a top barrister-Colin Firth type to bail us out and 2. I don't want to have to call him The Bearded Fucking Wonder in my diary).
I know what you are wondering. Did anything happen with TBW? The answer to that question is, are you freaking kidding me?!? For starters, Violet was always with us. But more importantly, I was disgusting (please refer to the first paragraph, however in addition to body odor, add a damp-clothes-smell and bugspray). So no, nothing happened. To be honest, we couldn't really tell if he was into me. Sure he was flirty and wasn't outwardly not into me, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything. If only he knew how much better I can look/smell.
All in all it was the perfect 2 and 1/2 day relationship. We almost convinced him to move on to the next town with us, but sadly he decided to go ahead with his original plans (This could indicate that he wasn't into me but the huge dilemma he was having trying to decide could indicate that he was into me). After sweaty hugs, an exchange in email addresses and a group picture, we parted ways. As we watched him walk away, Violet turns to me and says "You need to find a reason to go to D.C." Truer words were never spoken.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
How normal is your sex life?
I'm not being personal. Honest.
I'm not a great magazine connoisseur. When I do read magazines they tend to be "celebrity" ones and I only read these when I'm going on a long plane/bus/train journey, or when my housemate gives me hers. I try to steer well clear of fashion and lifestyle magazines. This is for a variety of reasons but mainly because I know that I'll never be able to follow or afford the fashion, my hair is never going to look like that and no matter how hard I try to copy their make-up tips my face will inevitably look like I've let a child loose with a paintbrush and/or marker pen.
However, a few days ago whilst perusing the magazine covers I spotted Cosmopolitan (both fashion and lifestyle no?) for the reduced price of £2 (normal price £3.40) and it came with a trashy chick-lit book. One of my guilty pleasures. I decided to splurge.
It was whilst I was flipping through the pages that I realised why I never buy magazines such as Cosmopolitan. They scare me. They're always full of stories and sex tips that I never would have thought of and would have to be practically incoherent with alcohol to even contemplate and advice on how to 'snare' men that I would never have the confidence to try. This particular issue is even worse: it's the "sexy" issue. So the question is ladies:
How normal is your sex life?
According to women in the UK:
*More than half of the survey participants consider themselves good in bed. (Oh to have that confidence.)
*70% worry about what they look like when they have sex. (Turn the lights off?)
*Women are more likely to moan about how much sex they're (not) getting if they live in London. (Agreed.)
This is obviously just a sample. However, there was one statistic that intrigued me:
* A quarter of single girls have sex once to three times a week.
Yes, you read that right. Single girls. Once to three times. A week. Which really does beg the question, where are they finding these men?! Or they're just lying. I hope they're lying because if not, I am clearly missing out.
This has been an education. And it only cost me £2. And I got a book.
Oh and they also listed the top 5 sex positions. If anyone is interested.
I'm not a great magazine connoisseur. When I do read magazines they tend to be "celebrity" ones and I only read these when I'm going on a long plane/bus/train journey, or when my housemate gives me hers. I try to steer well clear of fashion and lifestyle magazines. This is for a variety of reasons but mainly because I know that I'll never be able to follow or afford the fashion, my hair is never going to look like that and no matter how hard I try to copy their make-up tips my face will inevitably look like I've let a child loose with a paintbrush and/or marker pen.
However, a few days ago whilst perusing the magazine covers I spotted Cosmopolitan (both fashion and lifestyle no?) for the reduced price of £2 (normal price £3.40) and it came with a trashy chick-lit book. One of my guilty pleasures. I decided to splurge.
It was whilst I was flipping through the pages that I realised why I never buy magazines such as Cosmopolitan. They scare me. They're always full of stories and sex tips that I never would have thought of and would have to be practically incoherent with alcohol to even contemplate and advice on how to 'snare' men that I would never have the confidence to try. This particular issue is even worse: it's the "sexy" issue. So the question is ladies:
How normal is your sex life?
According to women in the UK:
*More than half of the survey participants consider themselves good in bed. (Oh to have that confidence.)
*70% worry about what they look like when they have sex. (Turn the lights off?)
*Women are more likely to moan about how much sex they're (not) getting if they live in London. (Agreed.)
This is obviously just a sample. However, there was one statistic that intrigued me:
* A quarter of single girls have sex once to three times a week.
Yes, you read that right. Single girls. Once to three times. A week. Which really does beg the question, where are they finding these men?! Or they're just lying. I hope they're lying because if not, I am clearly missing out.
This has been an education. And it only cost me £2. And I got a book.
Oh and they also listed the top 5 sex positions. If anyone is interested.
There is only ONE way to kiss a girl
Hola chicas! Grayer and I have just returned from a little jaunt around Costa Rica. We love to travel. It's an addiction for which there is no cure. The more you travel, the more you want to travel. It's a skill just like anything else that needs to be practiced. Trust me, we've had our share of disasters. One of the reasons we like it is not only because of the things you learn, but the people you meet. (Travel tip #1: You do not meet people staying in hotels or resorts. Hostels increase your experience tenfold.)
This trip was no exception. In one hostel, we overheard a snippet of conversation from a young whippersnapper proclaiming that "there is only one way to kiss a girl." Needless to say, we were intrigued.
A few hours later, that very same whippersnapper came up to our table where we were playing spoons with The Bearded Wonder (yes, Grayer promises to write more on him later) and a few other randoms from the hostel. Adam Pemberley, 18, Washington State introduced himself. After we got over the fact that he was a mere child ("I could be your father," said TBW. "Actually, I couldn't, but I would be."), he joined us for a round of spoons.
After the game, we sent TBW undercover to find out exactly what the ONE way to kiss a girl is. I'm sure Adam Pemberley, 18, Washington State was totally stoked to be giving advice about kissing girls to a bearded man nearly 10 years his senior. (Note: Adam Pemberley, 18, Washington State did indeed use the term girl, not women.)
According to Adam Pemberley, 18, Washington State, a kiss must start gently. Then, you add pressure and alternate. Next, you introduce the tongue and establish a rhythm. Then nature takes over.
And there you have it. How to Kiss a Girl. Straight from the mouths of babes. Traveling is so educational.
This trip was no exception. In one hostel, we overheard a snippet of conversation from a young whippersnapper proclaiming that "there is only one way to kiss a girl." Needless to say, we were intrigued.
A few hours later, that very same whippersnapper came up to our table where we were playing spoons with The Bearded Wonder (yes, Grayer promises to write more on him later) and a few other randoms from the hostel. Adam Pemberley, 18, Washington State introduced himself. After we got over the fact that he was a mere child ("I could be your father," said TBW. "Actually, I couldn't, but I would be."), he joined us for a round of spoons.
After the game, we sent TBW undercover to find out exactly what the ONE way to kiss a girl is. I'm sure Adam Pemberley, 18, Washington State was totally stoked to be giving advice about kissing girls to a bearded man nearly 10 years his senior. (Note: Adam Pemberley, 18, Washington State did indeed use the term girl, not women.)
According to Adam Pemberley, 18, Washington State, a kiss must start gently. Then, you add pressure and alternate. Next, you introduce the tongue and establish a rhythm. Then nature takes over.
And there you have it. How to Kiss a Girl. Straight from the mouths of babes. Traveling is so educational.
Friday, July 2, 2010
(Lack of) Birthday Booty
I know I haven't blogged in awhile. It's just been a bit quiet here in London town. I foresee a dry spell in Fen's love life coming up...
Which could not come at a worse time. For in a few weeks it will be my birthday (24 if anyone is curious. I've been told 24 is a good year so I'm pretty excited). However, Grayer has recently brought up the issue of Birthday Booty. A novel concept to me considering my previous 5 birthdays went as follows:
23rd birthday: was very hungover, had lunch with my parents, brother and his girlfriend's family. Not my choice.
22nd: spent in Peru (had lunch with Vi!) Fergus cancelled our plans because a girl got stabbed in Belize (long story).
21st birthday: spent in Italy being an au pair type for an Italian family, no hot Italian men around
20th birthday: two days before my grandad's funeral
19th birthday: my brother went into hospital with a collapsed lung.
What do all of the above have in common? No birthday booty. And possibly a bit of a birthday curse? It would be nice to get my 24th year off to a good start but I've no prospects so I don't think it's going to happen. So Vi and Grayer have said that I should just get drunk. Except my birthday is on a Monday this year so it would have to be the Friday before. I wasn't sure if that would count.
According to Vi, it counts.
Which could not come at a worse time. For in a few weeks it will be my birthday (24 if anyone is curious. I've been told 24 is a good year so I'm pretty excited). However, Grayer has recently brought up the issue of Birthday Booty. A novel concept to me considering my previous 5 birthdays went as follows:
23rd birthday: was very hungover, had lunch with my parents, brother and his girlfriend's family. Not my choice.
22nd: spent in Peru (had lunch with Vi!) Fergus cancelled our plans because a girl got stabbed in Belize (long story).
21st birthday: spent in Italy being an au pair type for an Italian family, no hot Italian men around
20th birthday: two days before my grandad's funeral
19th birthday: my brother went into hospital with a collapsed lung.
What do all of the above have in common? No birthday booty. And possibly a bit of a birthday curse? It would be nice to get my 24th year off to a good start but I've no prospects so I don't think it's going to happen. So Vi and Grayer have said that I should just get drunk. Except my birthday is on a Monday this year so it would have to be the Friday before. I wasn't sure if that would count.
According to Vi, it counts.
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