Category Archives: Life

I Will Always Be the Worst at Crushes

Given all of the stuff that’s been going on with my EBOOK (yes, did you not notice yet? I HAVE AN EBOOK. IT IS HERE AND EVERYWHERE ELSE I’VE LINKED IT. EBOOKEBOOKEBOOK).

Anyway, I trailed off up there because I wanted to promote shit (buy my eBook. WRITE A REVIEW)… given all my dating eBook stuff, I figured I’d talk to you guys a bit more about what I’m like when I’m single and attempting to date people I meet not off the internet.

If I could describe my lifelong experience with dating in one sentence, it would be “Awkward desperation with bouts of irrational overconfidence.” Confident or self-hating, in retrospect I am embarrassed by all of it. Broken down, I’d describe the phases like this –

My first crush on a character in an Animorphs book. This was safer than having a crush on a real boy, because I didn’t even have to sexualize my crush or try to lure him with my own sexuality. Along with being not real, the character was trapped in the body of a hawk. Some of the most romantic and intimate moments of my life were had with Tobais, the hawk-boy, in my own imagination at age 12. I kind of wish I’d stayed in this phase forever. Shit was relatively uncomplicated.

Most subsequent crushes were on boys who didn’t speak to me. If my first real crush knew my name, it was only because people were making fun of me (more on my first crush here). Crushes from afar continued for most of my teens. My understanding of sexuality came from this one ten second clip of this episode of Dawson’s Creek that I saw in the “TV room” in my basement where Joey and Dawson were making out (while laying down!) on the bed. I replayed that scene in my head, imagining all the boys who would never kiss me (or even know my name) for the next 6 years. I didn’t watch many PG-13 movies.

Eventually I discovered gay boys… this was the best part of high school. Gay boys are one of the best things that can happen to fat and/or awkward and/or theater girls. All those things tend to go together, but sometimes it’s a mix and match. The first time I met one of the gay boys, I was in love with him for about two years. The thing about gay boys is that no matter how much frustration you feel because you really wanted that whole Joey/Dawson make out thing to happen with them, you can’t fault them for giving you a little bit of hope and confidence while all of the other boys are busy not knowing your name and trying to recreate scenes from Jackass.

Around 18 I started “dating”, or something like that. I’d call it hooking up, but it often didn’t get that far. Going to Christian college added another level of complication to things. I have thought more than once in my life, “Was that Bible Study like, as friends… or did it mean more?”

At a certain point, I did start making out with people and was like “OMG IS THIS WHAT LOVE IS LIKE?” It took me a few years to learn that no, love is not like that. Love is boring and wonderful in a “let’s watch 10 episodes of SVU in a row because we both appreciate Ice T and sex crimes” kind of way. These relationships were often more exhilarating than real love. I could spend 27 million hours dissecting them with my BFFs. I think I spent the fall of 2003 to the fall of 2010 trying to decipher about four sentences boys said to me with my best friend. I didn’t realize until way later that love affair I was having was really with my best friend, and her ability to dissect one sentence (usually, “If I DID want a girlfriend, it would DEFINITELY be you.”) into 43 different possible interpretations. 

“I’m good at sex!” I look back on this period and feel the most embarrassed. After my first real (and pretty terrible) relationship, I decided to overcompensate for my resulting feelings of inadequacy by becoming this “sexually liberated” 20-something. I’d also lost some weight, so I was drunk on some newfound self confidence (and just plain drunk because my tolerance was severely lowered from starving myself). I thought I was awesome at dirty talk; I thought everyone was hitting on me; I sent hundreds of drunk texts that ranged from aggressively slutty to aggressively crazy… I’m surprised any of my friends who knew me during this period still speak to me.

After graduating college and entering life in the real world, I realized having crushes feels just like high school all over again. This weird thing happened after I’d gone through my I’m-too-sexy-for-my-dresses-that-are-a-reasonable-length phase. I realized that the only way I’m comfortable with a romantic situation is when I have already made out with a person. This means that I have to make out with a person BEFORE I know I’m into him. This means I have a window of about one hour after meeting someone and even then, it’s helpful if I’m drunk. A lot of my “relationships” have started with me thinking, “this blurry figure inching towards my face seems cute and cool. I want some cheese fries.”

Having made out with someone is my opportunity to override my tendency to become the same awkward idiot I was at 16. If I meet someone I like and spend enough time around them pre-make out, I’m doomed. For example, In my history of “real” jobs, I’ve had giant crushes on two previous coworkers (Please note that I said PREVIOUS, current coworkers. I read that sexual harassment poster in the kitchen). The first giant crush happened despite the fact that I had a boyfriend. Due to a combination of guilt and fear that I would forget about said boyfriend and kiss-attack my coworker’s beautiful face, I talked about my boyfriend non-stop. “Oh, you also like Ray Lamontagne? Yeah, I LOVE him too. You know who doesn’t like Ray? My boyfriend doesn’t, but god… you’re great – uh, I mean he’s great. Ray Lamontagne is great. Ha ha… ha? Ok, I should go call my boyfriend now. I have a boyfriend, who I love and have to call.”

The second giant crush was even worse. I had to spend a lot of time with this person, and if he ever thinks about me he probably thinks I was a kinda dumb. Conversations were something like, “Hey Tiff, want to meet at eight?” “Really? Do you think that it would be ok considering that we work together? Wait? What? Oh, yes, at EIGHT. Sorry, I’m so stupid I thought you said… nevermind. Eight is perfect. Gooooooo company we both work at where I have to see you every day!”

In hopes that it was all the coworker-ness getting in the way of my “game”, I willed myself to develop a crush on an acquaintance in my group of friends. It was shockingly worse than liking a coworker. At least with the coworkers I had an excuse to start a conversation. Nothing oozes sex appeal like saying talking about work. “So. Our margins this week. Am I right? Your place or mine?” With the acquaintance I found myself edging creepily over to the circle he’d be in, chugging my drink in hopes that it would give me a shred of confidence. Weekend after weekend, I’d have chugged so many vodka sodas while trying to come up with a way to start conversation, that by the time I had my opportunity I’d be so drunk I was teetering back and forth on my heels trying to come up with something to say. He probably thinks of me as That Drunk Girl Who Never Remembers What I Do For  A Living Because It’s The Only Question She Ever Asks Me.

This is why online dating was great for me! Remember how I have an eBook about online dating? Seriously though, if you can manage to have one non-awkward conversation with your crush, I applaud you. You are doing better than I ever did.

Peace, love and Joey/Dawson kisses, 

BWCE

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I am The Worst at spring.

I was down in Georgia for a wedding last weekend, and upon turning on my phone to compulsively check Facebook the second the wheels touched down at La Guardia I was bombarded.

SPRING IS HEREEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Apparently a little bit of sun and weather above 34 degrees counts as spring in the northeast, but nonetheless, Facebook declared it and in my bones I knew it was true.

I really, really want to like you, spring. I want to embrace your slightly longer days and get excited about layering but when it comes down to it you’re just a fucked up fall. Fall is this wonderful time when the weather eases you into a sweet cocoon of blankets, lulling you to sleep with shorter days and GIVING YOU BACK THE HOUR THAT ASSHOLE SPRING STOLE.

Spring reminds me of my failures. Instead of delicately peeling back the layers and emerging a well-rested, graceful butterfly, every spring I’m bursting out of the seams of my winter cocoon, a fat, pale moth. If I had wings, they’d be made of the giant grey sweatpants I wrap myself up in the second I get home every night.

Fat sweat pant moth.

Here are some more reasons why spring sucks: 

  • The realization that this is not The Year. By the time April rolls around, I’ve given up on all my New Year’s Resolutions, have tried and failed at at least three crash diets and I’ve determined that this is not the year that I magically developed an aversion to food. I haven’t started paying my bills earlier, bringing my lunch to work or making my bed with any greater frequency than any of the other years and spring has come to remind me of that. 
  • Boots. Most of the time, you still have to wear boots in the spring. I hate wearing shoes in general, and boots that have weathered at least one winter (or two if you’re like me and only buy boots every other year) become stinky torture devices in which my feet are doomed to feel overheated all day long.
  • Not wearing boots and ending up in a random snow storm. In the fall this is exciting. It’s like, “Ohhh how cute. The first snow! I’m going to buy wine and not care that I ruined a pair of flats I’d just broken in.” In the spring it’s like –

  • The other night I ordered a calzone in my sleep. I’M SERIOUS YOU GUYS. I have no idea how it happened, the last thing I remember is watching reruns of The Following and then going to bed, but the next day one of my roommates was like, “I ate your calzone,” and I was like, “That’s not my calzone,” and then I checked my email and I had ordered seamless web around 1 AM. I know this doesn’t seem like spring has anything to do with that, but spring is a sneaky motherfucker. 
  • The end of spring break blues. Or in my case, the end of Passover blues. I work for a Jewish company so I’ve get a TON of holidays off. Now that they’re over, realizing I don’t have another holiday until May is catastrophic.
  • TV IS ABOUT TO END. And I just can never get into the summer shows.

Maybe one day I will begin to like spring, but I don’t see it happening anytime soon.

Peace, love and I’m going to be cranky until Memorial Day, 

BWCE

 

 

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My Fear of Gangrene is NOT Irrational

I love when I discover a new humor blog. My four favorites (Hyperbole, 27b/6, FIIMT, The Oatmeal) post pretty infrequently… Probably because they’re all famous, so I guess you can do that shit. So when I find a funny blogger who posts on a regular basis, I am insta-hooked. Last week, I discovered Mooselicker. Dude is funny as shit, I can’t wait to have time to actually read all of his posts, but the one I linked to above on bees is awesome.

Basically he talks about how he hates bees and he spent his childhood taking great joy in finding violent ways to end the lives of bees. I appreciate his past efforts, because as a child I was TERRIFIED of bees. When I say child I mean up until like, 11th grade. I once almost ran off of a cliff on a family trip to some canyon because I saw a bee. My dad grabbed my arm and was like “GET IT TOGETHER, MAN.” He was super pissed that my irrational fear almost led to my death, but I think now he thinks it’s a cool story he gets to tell about saving my life.

Another time, in 9th grade I spent about an hour trying to get into my house through the front door, but every time I’d get up the courage to get near the door the carpenter bees that had made their homes in our bay windows would buzz around me. I ended up getting in through the basement door and when my parents got home they found me locked in our basement and sobbing/hyperventilating. I was trying to unhook the latch we had to “secure” the basement, so they thought I was a burglar. I was sobbing from bee trauma but also because I was convinced a murderer lived in the crawlspace in the basement and I made a huge effort to never be down there alone.

Once my parents realized I was not trying to burgle them and instead was their very terrified, incredibly weird child, they hugged me and my mom was like, “You know carpenter bees don’t have stingers… Right?”

The saddest part is that I actually DID know that.

Remembering this story led me to thinking about all of the fears I’ve had, both past and present. I’ll start with those I’ve actually outgrown and in a future post talk about the ones I still have.

Bees! I am not scared of your tiny, tiny stingers anymore, bees. Hornets, however, are another story. Motherfuckers are terrifying.

Rabies! My mom grew up in Iowa, so I’m privy to a lot of what I like to call “farm knowledge.” Because you teach your kids what you grew up learning, a lot of shit I learned was along the lines of, “Don’t skinny dip in quarries. I know they look like fun, but they are so cold that your heart will momentarily stop beating and you will drown. That’s how Diane De Keizer died.” It was a Dutch town in Iowa. All of the kids had weird names like that.

So naturally, as my mom needed to impart all farm knowledge on me, she taught me about rabies.

Because I loved (and still love) all animals so much, learning about rabies was almost as traumatic as learning that Santa Claus didn’t exist but at least that wasn’t until in 5th grade when I’d learned that binge eating was a fantastic coping mechanism. All four-year-old Tiffany wanted was to hug a squirrel. Learning that if a squirrel actually did come up to me it was probably rabid and going to eat my face off and then I’d be rabid and I might eat my mom’s face off was so confusing and terrifying. I have since learned that rabies doesn’t really work like this, but one time I had to run outside to grab something out of our mini van and upon getting outside I realized it was dark, I was alone and there were DEFINITELY some rabid owls out at that time. Rabies is kinda like zombie animals.

Gangrene! Along with farm knowledge, we also didn’t have cable when I was kid, so National Geographic specials were my jam. The day my little brother was born, I was watching one on giraffes, so upon meeting my infant brother I recommended that we name him Camouflage. Sadly, my parents were set on Patrick Claude, but I still think he would have made an awesome Camouflage. He likes to climb rocks and shit, so it’s fitting.

Anyway, one time we were watching this Nat Geo special on people climbing Mt. Everest or something like that. Had anyone ever successfully climbed Mt. Everest in like, 1992? Google is telling me that yes, and that happened in 1953 you dumbass, but whatever. I got confused… The 90’s were a different time. So at some point, one of the people got gangrene and they had to get their leg amputated and I was like HOLY SHIT SNOW CAN DO THAT TO YOU?

I used to get really bad charlie horses in the middle of the night, and I would sleepwalk/talk. I woke my mom up in the middle of the night, sobbing about how I had contracted gangrene and now I was going to have to get my leg amputated. Whenever my mom tells me that I was an easy kid to deal with I think of this moment and am like, really?

Oversleeping! This fear had possibly the shortest lifespan of any of my fears, which makes sense since it was the most rational. The Catholic school I attended for several years considered 7th grade the start of high school, so with that I was forced to experience an extra two years of final exams. This sounds terrible, but I actually preferred test taking to class because I could leave when I was done and I always finished with more than enough time. This isn’t so much a testament to my intelligence as it is the fact that I didn’t check my work and just wanted to go buy snacks from the school snack bar.

My first final exams experience left me scarred because I missed my alarm clock and woke up at 10:30 AM after completely missing my Portuguese final. I was inconsolable and although the teacher let me take the test later, I developed right then and there an obsessive fear that I was definitely going to oversleep and ruin everything always.

Because of the sleep walking/talking thing, I would often wake up in the middle of the night, look at my alarm clock and go running into my parents room. Once I’d get there I would be so upset that I wouldn’t think about how strange it was that my parents were sitting in their pajamas, relaxed and watching television.

“MomIdon’tknowwhathappenedIjustwenttosleepandthenextthingIknewitwas11!!!”

They’d always start laughing and my tears would turn to confusion.

“This isn’t funny?? Do you understand that I’ll never get into an Ivy if I keep missing class like this.”

“Tiffany, it is 11 PM. You’ve only been asleep for like, twenty minutes.”

I can’t remember when the fear went away, but I actually did oversleep through a final exam my first semester in college. Luckily, music school understands that its students are musicians who are often lazy, sleepy or disorganized and doesn’t really penalize it. Music college needs students too.

Being randomly slapped in the face! No, no, my parents didn’t beat me. Not even a little bit. In fact, the most violent thing to ever happen in my house is being “Tickled Tortured” by my older brother. Which actually was kinda torturous, but not exactly abusive.

I’m very scared of conflict (still) and I am regularly paranoid that my family/friends are mad at me for some undefined reason, so I guess when I was younger I decided that maybe one day they’d slap me in the face. Also, I was allowed to watch “Melrose Place” and they did that a lot to each other so it seemed within the realm of possibility.

For years I would be in conversations and suddenly have the overwhelming desire to run and hide lest someone up and slap me in the fast, but I guess learning about things like whiskey slaps and 50 shades of Grey made getting slapped seem not so bad.

Retinal detachment! This one sort of goes with a general hypochondria thing, but I have pretty much kicked it, unlike my fear of instantaneous cancer, which I am certain I have at least five forms of right now. Sometime around my senior year of college I noticed all of the floaters in my eyes and became obsessed with them as they are a sign that your retinas can detach. Because I am (still) scared of doctors, I put off going until I have so convinced myself that I have every disease ever and have spent countless nights laying awake in fear. Or in this case, countless hours just looking back and forth at a light bulb, watching the floaters and freaking out.

Even after the eye doctor told me I was ok, I still was pretty convinced he was wrong. He was old so I thought maybe he’d become senile or something. The way I finally overcame the fear was by naming every last floater. My favorite was Freckles, the one that sort of looked like a patch of freckles, obvi.

So, I think that’s all of them that I can think of right now. Next up, a list of stuff I’m STILL terrified of, which is basically a list of the different types of serial killers there are. What? There are different types of serial killers?

Oh yeah, you better believe it.

Peace, love and zombie woodland creatures,

BWCE

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Don’t Movie Theaters Have Bedbugs Anyway?

I know they’re supposed to be fun or whatever, but I really don’t like movies. The last time I went to a movie theater it was to see “Contagion”, which only reminded me of why I hate movies. Seriously, “Contagion” was so boring that I wished it was a zombie movie, even though I once had to leave a movie theater while watching “I Am Legend” because I didn’t realize it was a zombie movie and I got so scared that I started sobbing. Yeah, I was 23 when this happened and my mom totally took me out of the theater and hugged me to calm me down. So what?

Anyway, whenever Oscar time comes around it serves as a reminder that I have seen none of the movies. This year is the second year in a row that I have seen not a single nominated film. Luckily, my boyfriend also hates movies, so we live in this magical land where nothing we watch lasts more than 42 minutes unless it’s a stand up comedy special or a documentary on serial killers. We love serial killers.

It’s a strange thing to realize that there’s this whole portion of culture from which you’ve excluded yourself. My roommates will be talking about some movie I’ve never heard of and I realize this is probably what it’s like for people who don’t have Facebook profiles because they have some pretentious view on it being the Panopticon. Despite knowing nothing about these movies, I’ve formed my opinions on what I think the movies are about based upon the following criteria:

1. The title
2. The subway poster (if it exists)
3. What I’ve heard people say about it
4. Jon Stewart’s interview with the lead actor

So the other night, my boyfriend was showing me the trailer to “Silver Linings Playbook” to point out that the movie was DEFINITELY shot where he grew up and I was like WHAT I THOUGHT THAT THIS WAS A MOVIE ABOUT FOOTBALL. I thought Bradley Cooper was like, a football coach and Jennifer Lawrence was his wife or maybe a cheerleader and together they brought together white and African American youths through the great American sport. We had to watch “Remember the Titans” a lot on the church bus and I think it’s the only football movie I’ve ever seen so I assume they’re all about this. This realization led me to think about all the Oscar nominees this year… Here’s a list of what I think these movies are about. You can correct me if I’m wrong. I don’t care about spoilers because I’m never gonna see it.

“Argo”
Pixar’s newest film. Something about Iran and Canada. I’m guessing a Persian cat befriends a moose that has accidentally wandered into Toronto and they start a hair salon or fly a plane. Whatever it is, it’s probably adorable and Ben Affleck is all over the news for his debut as a voice actor.

“The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey” 
They’re still making these? As a quick aside. I know you think epic adventures are awesome. “Lord of the Rings,” “Star Wars,” “Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle,” are instant classics… Blah blah blah.

Epic adventures stress me the fuck out. You guys realize that these characters are having the WORST DAYS EVER… Right? Like, if you Luke Skywalker you’d be all, “WTF. I’m crashed on this ice planet and I have to sleep inside the carcass of this bear thing. Oh, yay, someone saved me but now I’m in this swamp and the dude that’s supposed to teach me shit is clearly deranged or at least from Central Florida, guessing by his accent, and at least there’s this hot chick – oh wait, she’s my sister. Fuck. This has not been my week.”

I only want two types of epic in my life – epically funny and epically drunk.

“Lincoln” 
Oh! I know this one. It’s definitely about Nebraska.

Nailed it.

“Beasts of the Southern Wild”
Most recent adaptation of Where the Wild Things Are. The Dave Eggers/ Spike Jonez one was too weird so they went with Jonathan Franzen / Wes Anderson this time. Instead of the Yeahyeahyeahs, FUN. Did the soundtrack.

“Life of Pi” 
Another documentary about fast food and corporate farming? Are you kidding me? Look, I saw Food Inc., I even liked it, but I get it already… Everything is evil and killing me. All I care about is how sad the chickens looked.

“Django Unchained”
Something about racism. I think Jamie Foxx is in it but I’m not sure if he’s playing the serious actor role or crazy action hero role.
Or was that “Beasts of the Southern Wil” and Django is a Tyler Perry and/or Quentin Tarantino movie?

“Les Misérables”
Anne Hathaway is in it and she has some new haircut, so it’s definitely another movie where she plays an ugly duckling and gets a makeover. She’s the new Sandra Bullock, I called it when I saw “Devil Wears Prada.”

Sure, she looks busted now, but wait til 22 minutes in when she gets a makeover at Versailles!

“Zero Dark Thirty”
Ooooo! Definitely an alien movie. Probably based on a video game.

I know, I know… I’m surprisingly good at guessing exactly what these movies are about. It’s a talent, really. Maybe that’s why I’m so bored by them… I already know exactly what’s going to happen.

Peace, love and that’s enough thinking about movies for this year, 

BWCE

PS – Romcoms are exempt from my hatred, obvi.

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I Have a Cold So Now I Want to Kick Babies

You heard me. Bring ’em on, I’ll kick all your babies.

I woke up this morning with a cold, so instead of finishing the post I’d written last night (which was already about having a bad week. Apparently this week’s theme is bad things), I laid in bed until the last possible minute and now I’m at work so I can’t finish my post.

In the words of Austin from college, “[I’m] a little bitch when I get sick,” so I really can’t provide you with much entertainment or excitement today. I will try to heal over the weekend, but until then –

Here are some links that brought me minimal joy during this wasteland of a week –

There’s a Morgan Freeman joke at the end – http://www.collegehumor.com/article/6872071/8-new-and-necessary-punctuation-marks

I officially like Aubrey Plaza more than I like Sarah Silverman after watching this – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l1Sa9hXA4mo

Yesterday my coworker and I Googled armpit tattoos and discussed via AIM for at solid 8 minutes – I’d highly recommend it.

Ok, back to hating everything and feeling woozy.

Cough, sneeze and wheeze, 

BWCE

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Post-Valentine’s Day Recovery tips

It’s over! No more cupids or roses for a year! Still, I have a sneaking suspicion that some of you are still suffering today from Vday-related ailments. Here’s a list of recovery tips for every situation I can imagine you getting yourself into last night:

You sat on the couch drinking (listening to the playlist I made for you, of course)
Congrats! You probably don’t have that bad of a hangover from getting to bed at a reasonable hour. If you’re feeling a little iffy, those sweethearts in your office will totally serve as replacement Tums. Celebrate the end of the romantic holiday season with a glass of champagne. You deserve it.

You went out drinking with your friends.
I do not envy you, friend. Last night started innocently enough; a glass of wine over a nice dinner with some friends, then you figured what the hell? It’s Valentines Day, lets get a bottle! Before you know it it’s 3 am and you’re ripping shots of – oh god you can’t even think the word shots without wanting to die in the bathroom at your office. Can anyone else hear the computers buzzing? It’s like earth-shatteringly loud, right?

Ok, probably a lot. I never update Flash and I’m sorry.

I have five words for you: breakfast sandwich and a Rockstar.

Wait 30 mins for them to digest while you think about throwing up on the coworker who sits across from you and you will be golden. You’ll be totally ready to repeat last night.

You had a crazy Valentine’s Day one night stand.
Those exist in real life, right? They’re all over the movies and TV and I really want to believe there are people awesome enough to do this, but to date I’ve only ever heard on V-day sex scandal.

If you’re reading this proudly (or shamefully) because you are this years one night stand unicorn, you win at life. Call in sick to work – who cares what they think? Walk of shame your hot mess of a self over to Soho and buy yourself something sexy. You officially won Valentine’s Day 2013. Damn, you’re cool.

Your romantic date turned into a teary, bitter fight with your significant other.
The evening started out so nicely, but before you knew it the pressure of a holiday invented for you and your significant other to prove to one another that your love is the Best Love caused you to crack. A romantic Italian dinner turned into you sobbing while stuffing hunks of bread in your mouth so as to shoo away the accordion players with your utter disgustingness.

Now you’re sitting at work, poofy-eyed, having to swallow back tears when your coworkers ask you how your fairy tale evening with Mr. Perfect went. Why didn’t you decide to skip Valentine’s all together instead of subjecting yourselves to the torture of flower arrangements and overpriced Pre Fixe?

So, last night sucked. Sometimes the worst times come when we’ve built up our expectations so high that we have nowhere to go but down.

Facts: Your boyfriend didn’t propose; that Pesto wasn’t fresh; and at the end of the night your cab driver took the worst route home ever. Valentine’s Day may have sucked, but now it’s over and all of those giant, unclaimed heart boxes full of chocolate are on sale for at least 50% off! Go get yourself some and feel better.

You skipped Valentine’s Day altogether?

You didn’t wallow, drink or cry? Yesterday was just another day and you’re sitting there at your desk watching the fallout around you?

Good for you! Rub it in everyone else’s faces by eating a fruit salad for breakfast and telling all the hungover people about your favorite types of tequila… Get really detailed with it. If there were more people like you, we could forget this whole day ever existed in the first place.

All, the week is over so I will return to my usual Tuesday/Thursday posting schedule. Thank you so much for reading, sharing and commenting!

Peace, love and I’m still listening to “Wide Awake”,
BWCE

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Floral Arrangements for Getting it On

We all have those random skill sets we’ve acquired from our past – whether it’s this stuff you learned from the job you had in high school, or what you majored in during college. I can talk your ear off about music copyright law and varieties of carnations. It was only a year or so ago that I was coming up with the occasional floral ‘Recipes,’ so I’ve decided to share my expertise with all the gentlemen who read my blog.

Fact: Valentine’s Day is the number two busiest day in the floral industry, losing out to Mother’s Day only because everyone has a mother.

That being said, Valentine’s buyers are the most desperate and clueless. Men know that women want flowers, and they want them on Valentine’s day, but they’re utterly clueless as to what to order or what to write on the gift message.

I can’t tell you how many gift messages I’ve written for grown men.

Men, are you concerned your ladies are a little less traditional? Do you want to wow them with something more creative than roses.  Do you need to write something more creative than “love you babe?”

I could give you some really great advice on all of the above, but instead I’m going to show you the wonderful world of flowers that send one very direct message: I wanna do you, bitch. 

My friend Toni, floral buyer extraordinaire, inspired this post by sending me a comic that was so dirty I wrote back, “I can’t put that on my blog. My grandma reads it sometimes!” Anyway, Toni also taught me the wonderful world of dirty flowers… Throw a couple of these in your traditional red rose bouquet, include the message I’ve attached and you are bound to get your message across. Whether or not this actually gets you laid… I have no idea.

Calla Lilies – The classy way to say “take your pants off.”

Gift message: Baby, you’re beautiful just the way you are… And you’re even more beautiful when you’re naked.

Callas are famously known as a symbol for lady parts, just ask Georgia O’Keeffe.

Anthirium – An exotic way to ask, “Do you wanna see it?” 

Gift Message: “Girl, I feel so close to you. I just want to show you my soul, or something like that.”

As an aside, in searching for anthirium, Toni came across this:

WHY ON EARTH IS THIS A STOCK PHOTO??

Ok, next.

Hooker Lips – For the lady who’s a little cheap and likes it that way. 

Gift Message: “Bitch, this flower ain’t got nothing on you. You my #1 ho.”

I’m pretty sure that flower had some work done.

Banksia – For those who feel the need to over-compensate.

Gift Message: “How you doin’?”

This is a personal favorite among flower people. One of my favorite complaints ever received was in regards to some bright red banksia in an arrangement: “What are those penis-looking things? They’re terrible!”

Black roses and Thistle – If you’re into some weird shit.

After last year’s 50 Shades craze, I couldn’t leave it out. Buy her some black roses, spiny thistle and maybe some Devil’s Poker.

Gift Message: “Slave, the only safe words I need are “I love you.””

 

Anyway, we have arrived! Happy Valentine’s Day! Good luck on any and all of your endeavors today.

Peace, love and OMGIMSOHAPPYTODAYBECAUSENOFLOWERCOMPLAINERS,

BWCE

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The Worst Case Scenario Playlist

I’m going to reveal my utter chickishness when it comes to this post, but oh well.

Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. If you were hoping for a date and there’s no one to be found, you’re probably out of luck. If you were hoping for a couple friends to keep you company but all of them have other plans, you’re probably out of luck there too. That is of course unless you’re in a romcom… Then you can expect that at some point during the day someone is going to make a huge romantic gesture, or you’re going to make out with you best friend under fireworks, or something like that happens in Valentine’s Day. I got totally bored in the middle of it and ordered a bunch of food from Papa John’s.

So you’ve reached the end of the road and tomorrow you’re going to sit at home, drinking wine and watching TV, maybe you’ll even feel sorry for yourself for awhile. I say, step it up a notch. In my newfound spirit of loving everything Valentine’s Day, I think you should celebrate a shitty Valentine’s Day too. Consider it a good chance to feel, and what’s better for inspiring feeling than music?

Here’s what I suggest you do tomorrow: Go to work all dressed up. Pretend you’ve got something fancy to do, because having something fancy to do is always a good excuse to leave work early. On the way home, pick up your favorite snacks and something to drink as well as something that you can take shots of. If you follow my playlist, there will be a drinking game involved. Get your ass home early, put on your favorite pajamas, and begin the Best/Worst Valentine’s night of your life.

Stage 1 – You are still very sober

“Wide Awake” by Katy Perry.
I’m not all that big of a Katy Perry fan, but OMG this song is so good, right? It sounds hopeful, but it’s so sad. There are few songs in this word that make me go, “I wish I’d just gotten dumped because this shit would be so cathartic,” but this song is one of those.

“Leave” by JoJo.
I’d save this for later, because it’s kinda cheezy, but you’re not going to be able to belt those high notes when you’re drunk. Being cheated on has never been my reason for getting out of a long term relationship, but 14-yr-old JoJo sings this so passionately that it makes me able to turn, “Because you were kinda boring,” into, “YOU RUINED MY SOUL YOU BASTARD.”

“Break Stuff” by Limp Bizkit.
I didn’t curse until I was probably 18 but I remember listening to this song on my whatever came before an iPod MP3 player in the 9th grade and mouthing the curse words that I imagined Fred Durst was singing (I had the edited version) because I just felt like he got me. You still do, Fred Durst. You still do.

Stage 2 – Ok, let’s play some drinking games

“Irreplaceable” by Beyonce.
Every time Beyonce says, “To the left, To the left,” take a shot.

“Cry Me A River” by Justin Timberlake.
Every time Justin sings, “Cry me, Cry me,” in falsetto in the background, take a shot. For a little schadenfreude, you can watch the music video and then Google pictures of Britney Spears during her mental breakdown years.

“So What?” by P!nk.
Ok, so if you were playing properly you’re definitely drunk by now. Take a shot of water every time P!nk says, “So what?”

“Wide Awake” by Katy Perry.
No drinking game here, I just wanna talk about how great this song is again.

Stage 3 – You’re drunk. Time to remind yourself of how awesome you are

“I’m Too Sexy” by Right Said Fred.
You’ll probably only get through one minute of this, but it’ll be worth it.

“Stronger” by Britney Spears.
I would not recommend trying the chair dance right now. Or ever.

“Still Not A Player” by Big Pun.
I don’t know what this song has to do with Valentine’s Day. I just really like it.

Stage 4 – You’re drunk enough that you’re ready to cry

“We Found Love” and “I Knew You Were Trouble” mashup
You’re going to have to make your own, but it will be worth it. Open two separate YouTube windows and pull up the two songs. Watch the intro to “We Found Love” and then right before the song starts, pause the video and watch “I Knew You Were Trouble.” Make sure to skip Taylor’s intro, that is basically a knock-off of Rihanna’s. The song starts 2 minutes in.

“You Were Meant For Me” by Jewel.
I think the first time I heard this song when I was in the 3rd grade, I learned what sadness truly was. Of course, 8 year old Tiffany thought about all of her dead pets and missing them, but it still got me every time.

“Wide Awake” by Katy Perry.
It’s totally about Russell Brand, right?

“Lovin’s for Fools” by Bon Iver.
Ohmygoditssosad.

Stage 5 – Success! It’s almost bedtime. You’ve survived!

Order yourself something delicious off of Seamless and watch a couple episodes of How I Met Your Mother. That always makes me feel better.

Peace, love and I’m gonna go listen to “Wide Awake” on repeat, 

BWCE

 

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Gift Guide: Valentine’s Day Edition

Ok, so I sadly haven’t seen any DNAinfo.com Valentine’s Day gift suggestions, but I think I’ll be able to wing it. Valentine’s Day is only two days away and if you’re like me you’re still trying to figure out a way to work curse words and insults into an adorable homemade gift for your significant other.

Dirty message jam could totally be a top seller on Etsy

Giving a good gift for Valentine’s Day can be hard, especially if your relationship isn’t your standard husband/wife, boyfriend/girlfriend situation. This year, however, you’re in luck! Instead of making sex jam, I’ve been thinking about all of you and your needs. I know, I’m such a good person. Below are my suggestions for every type of relationship I could come up with. If you have one I haven’t mentioned, and you’d like to know what I think, shoot me a line in the comments section of this post. I will come up with something JUST for you. How’s that for customer service?

For your best friend:

So you’re single this year and your romantic life is so nonexistent that you not only quit shaving your legs, but you’re not even bothering with the armpits anymore either because it’s winter and fuck it, no one’s seeing your naked arms for another three months anyway. I’ve been there, and I totally get it: Why the fuck do couples need another day to remind you of the constant, nagging feeling that you are that one person who is destined to be alone forever? Do they really need another excuse to shower each other with the love and affection that you’re certain you are only going to receive from the 37 cats you one day plan to adopt?

First off, you’re probably not that person because if the cast of Jersey Shore can get married (at least for a while) I’m pretty sure there’s hope for all of you. Secondly, that’s why we all have best friends. Best friends don’t care about your unshaven armpits or your strange obsession with Love Bites, the cancelled-after-nine-episodes NBC sitcom that lured you in with a guest appearance by Jennifer Love Hewitt for like five seconds and then went downhill after the opening credits. Best friends don’t go, “Hey, honey. Maybe you shouldn’t eat that icing while waiting for your pizza to arrive,” because it does not concern them if you get fat and most of the time they will enjoy eating the icing with you.

One of my favorite Valentine’s Days was spent on the couch with Nina watching America’s Psychic Challenge and eating chili. I recommend that you purchase the DVD set of that show and some chili to recreate that.

Love you, Neens.

For your gay best friend who is of the opposite sex: 

They’re basically the same as the above with a few minor differences – they’re awesome cuddle time stand-ins and the fact that they work out more than you slightly helps with the potential weight gain that comes with the icing/pizza combo.

Take them on a trip. Take them on a trip to a place where you like to judge people, like the mall, or Oskaloosa, Iowa and mean mug everyone who walks by and then say things like, “Ew.” or “Who?” after they pass but are still within earshot.

Judging, circa 2010. Venue of choice: Florida.

For someone who’s put you in the Friend Zone but you want outta that zone and into his/her pants:

I’ll start this with a don’t: The other day I was at the gym, watching one of those little TVs while I elliptical-ed my heart out. I usually don’t watch MTV because I had some opinion on what their reality shows were doing to society when I was like 22 and even though I’ve since forgotten my stance, I figured meh, I’ll stick with it. The thing is my gym plays 90% sports and then either The Food Channel or MTV, so I was forced. Anyway, they have this show called Friendzone where people who have a crush on their best friend take them on an MTV reality TV show but the friend thinks it’s a different MTV reality show and then through some elaborate plot they reveal their true intentions and either they’re publicly humiliated when the friend says no or they start dating but it’s kind of awkward and you feel like you’re watching two siblings date when they do the ‘two months later’ check in. Do not take your Friend Zone buddy on this show for Valentine’s Day.

What you should do instead – Get them some condoms. Don’t fuck around, just do it.

For that special someone… Who you really, really want to dump: A Match.com subscription paired with the phrase, “I think you’re really great and you deserve to have someone love you as much as you love me.”

For your lying, cheating, no-good ex:

I once dated someone who turned out to be a MASSIVE compulsive liar. He’d created elaborate stories such as playing tennis in Brazil for an entire summer while being paid $30K in tennis winnings. It turned out that he’d spent the summer painting houses with his dad in his hometown while hiding from all of his friends he was lying to. If I’d known about www.dirtyrottenflowers.com, he’d have received at lot of their arrangements.

For that friend you secretly hate: 

Old people, my generation calls these “Frenemies.” Cute right? And you thought we were so busy with our Facebooks and tumbling that we hadn’t accomplished anything yet. Get that bitch some chocolate. It’s perfect! It seems nice but accomplishes your ulterior motive, which is of course to get your nemesis fat. There is one exception… If the reason you hate this person is because she’s got a magic metabolism, giving her chocolate that she can enjoy without consequence does not help your cause. In that case, give her something terrible, like a juice cleanse.

“This is all water weight. First you bloat, and then you drop ten pounds like that.”

For the hot guy/girl on the train: 

Your number. Duh.

Original photo from hotguysonthehtrain.tumblr.com

Ok, back to figuring out my own gift. I think for Valentine’s Day maybe I’ll just get my boyfriend drunk.

Peace, love and sexy condiments, 

BWCE

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Valentine’s Day, I love you

For those of you who have been reading this blog for over a year, you know that last Valentine’s Day I was in rough shape. I was extremely anxious about my customer service job at a flower company and came up with a slew of coping mechanisms to deal with my anxiety. From almost buying an albino chinchilla to writing letters to ex-boyfriends, I was a trainwreck. The only productive things I accomplished during the entire month of February were saving a drunk girl and watching at least four seasons of How I Met Your Mother.

If you click the links above, you will get to all of last year’s posts about Valentine’s Day. In case you didn’t figure that out yet… You clever thing, you. 

The day after Valentine’s Day, I stood in my bedroom staring out my window at the dreary February grossness and tried to come up with any excuse to not go to work.

“Hi, work? Yes, I got hit by a cab delivering flowers last night. I’m uh, dead. Yeah… I’m calling from hell. No, it’s actually not that bad. There are margaritas here.”
“Dear work, I am writing you this email because I lost my voice in a screaming karaoke rap battle with a drag queen last night. I know late-night drinking is irresponsible, especially on a Tuesday, but it happened. I will be taking a personal day, thank you very much.”

When I realized that my most believable excuse would be claiming I’d had a complete emotional breakdown, I decided I had to get to work because I was already late and that the only thing I could do at that point was make myself one promise: Next year, you will not be spending your Valentine’s Day customer servicing angry flower orderers and recipients. I don’t know what you’ll be doing, but whatever it is you will remember this moment and you will forever love Valentine’s Day and everything about it for the rest of your life because you won’t be doing this. 

So I’m making good on my promise to myself AND to all of you. Valentine’s Day is universally hated by single people, couples, waiters, cab drivers, liquor store attendants, and the list goes on. As possibly the only person who now loves Valentine’s Day, consider me your benevolent host. This week, I will be posting every day with tips, tricks and drinking games (duh) for everyone out there who’s having a rough week.

If you’ve got a date this holiday, give them an extra tight squeeze. If you’re single, give your friends (or that wine bottle) an extra tight squeeze. If you’re in customer service for any business involved in Valentine’s Day, I tip my fucking hat to you, you are a god among men. No matter where you are, come back every day to check out the action.

Peace, love and candy hearts, 

BWCE

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