Men are From Mars, Women are from Venus, and All of Our Hair Clogs The Bathroom Drain

Recently I made a gigantic life decision and decided to move in with my amazing boyfriend Ryan.  Now, before I start in on my list of observations I've found while living with my partner, I will make this disclaimer just so everyone knows this is all written with a wink and a smile.

RYAN IS SO GREAT AND I LOVE HIM EVEN MORE THAN FOOD THAT IS SALTY AND SWEET AT THE SAME TIME.

Sorry, NutRageous.

Now that I got that out of the way, let's get down to the nitty-gritty, which is that the first few months of living with your significant other can be compared to Jane Goodall's career.  You feel like a completely different species from them- boy or girl, gay or straight.  Even if you've spent years in a relationship, you will begin learning new things about this person the second you get a shared set of keys.

"You don't like coconut?  What do you mean?  Who doesn't like cocunut?  How didn't I know that about you?  But didn't you eat macaroons s at your sister's Quincenera the other night?  Oh coconut  COOKIES don't count?  Hmmmmmmmm....."

Ryan and I have been living together for over a month, and both of us have shacked up with exes in the past-  because of this, and many talks had with friends who have recently decided to co-inhabit, I know that these realizations aren't confined to only my relationship:

PINTEREST WONDERLANDS WEREN'T BUILT IN A DAY.

Here's a short list within a list of things I've said I will have in my new apartment:

Chalkboard wall

Patio bistro set

Accent wall with adorable wallpaper, probably chevron patterned

Friends and family sterling silver picture frame wall

Energy saving lightbulbs in every lighting fixture

Every powder or grain from our pantry stored in cute bottles

Drafting table
Collection of vintage aprons

Vanity

Every single thing we own labeled
Printed Instagram photos

Pet bowls mounted on wall
Magnetic makeup storage
A really clean washing machine that I clean with homemade gunk
And a pool.

Seriously just shut the fuck up, Pinterest. 

That's just for starters, of course.  I haven't begun to touch on how I will antique all of our furniture by hand.

Pinterest and Etsy have both illuminated the beauty of home life and destroyed every woman's confidence.  We all want to nest and decorate and have this warm, amazing base to curl up in at night with our partner while we watch Dexter marathons and knit homemade tea cozies.

However, sometimes men have an opinion on what they want their house to look like, too! 

WHAT?!  

Go read your Sports Illustrated and leave the draperies to the women!

But seriously- that dream home that you had so perfectly drawn out in Pinterest boards, all labeled as intricately as your dream medicine cabinet, MIGHT take longer than a few weeks to put together.  Or you might have to come up with a NEW dream home... TOGETHER.  Cause oddly enough, some men don't want to accent the inside of their front doors with fuscia paint.  Weird.

GET READY TO SEE SOME GROSS STUFF

Human beings are innately disgusting and now your dirty laundry is all in the same place.  And I don't mean that figuratively.
Girls, get ready to see what gym socks look like when they solidify from sweat.
Guys... "period panties".  I don't think I need to say anything else.  
True love exists when you see these things and you still wanna tear those gross, high school basketball team sweatpants off your partner and take a trip to Pound Town. 

YOUR LOVED ONE WILL SEE WHAT YOU ACTED LIKE WHEN YOU WERE A TODDLER

Wanna know why?  Cause you're gonna throw tantrums.  I don't care how old you are, what sex you are, how zen you think you are... you are going to have a day when you just can't handle the Comcast hotline for one more goddamn minute and lose your shit.

You'll have a tantrum, and depending on how long you've been together and how honest you've been about yourself prior to living together, your partner may or may not know how to handle this moment.  (Personal Sidenote:  Ryan is awesome at handling tantrums, you'd think he taught at a Co-Op Preschool).
Every human being has a breaking point, and I think a true test of your relationship comes from how you both learn to help each other out of the bottomless, terrifying, boiling lava pit of a temper-tantrum.

If only Pierce Brosnan had known that Grandma had a sore spot for people who double-park.  Wasn't Dante's Peak awesome?

THE HAIR... OH MY GOD, THE HAIR...

I've lived with a lot of girls who do this weird thing where they pull their hair out in the shower, stick it to the shower wall and then just leave it there like it's a trophy.  I never ever ever understood that.  However, now that I live with a man...

Cue the beard trimmings.

Now, Ryan's facial hair is a thing of art, don't get me wrong...   but if I didn't rush to the bathroom after his daily groomings, it would look a lot like Scrooge McDuck's room full of gold coins...
But it would be filled with beard hair instead of coins...
And my nephews would never want to come over and watch me dive into it.

Ry wants to shave off his chops today!  WOOOOOOO HOOOOO!!!!

YOU ARE GOING TO RUN OUT OF SHIT REALLY QUICKLY

Did you drink the last beer?... Why are we already out of tomato sauce?... Is the car seriously on empty?...

Get that Costco membership now, cause your ass is gonna be running out of stuff EVERY DAMN DAY!  When I was single, a bottle of body wash would last me approximately 5.5 years.  Now that I live with a man, that bottle was EMPTY in a month.  And I'm sure he can say the same thing about me and how long a quart of Yellowtail lasts with me around, I KNOW I'm not innocent in this, I suck at many things. 

But it really is mindblowing when you see how fast SHARED items disappear. 

When you have a roommates, you always seem to have 15 bottles of salad dressing tumbling out of your refrigerator door...  But when you're in love and splitting the groceries, it's like a fucking free-for-all in that fridge! 

Be prepared to handle this financial shock, and take a breath when you're sitting on the toilet and realize that you weren't warned that you are out of toilet paper.  That's what napkins from take-out lunches are for.

Spencer Johnson approves wiping with Wendy's.



I've been in a relationship that ended while I lived with the man.  Living together can show someone's true colors that you might not like the shade of.  This is really sad, I know... but it can be good to find out before you make an even LARGER committment to each other.  And honestly, doing a fast and furious move out is easier than dealing with a divorce in the long run, I'm pretty sure. 

Yes, moving in together is putting a big bet on the table... but it can pay off...

If you're one of the lucky ones, living with your signicant other will feel like having a sleepover every day!  You get to hang out in your pajamas, do crafts, cook yummy meals, watch TV all night and even drink and have sex without the worry of your parents walking in on you!  You will learn something new about your loved one constantly, and you will always know that at the end of a horrendously shitty day you get to go home to your BEST FRIEND.... but a best friend who spoons you at night and tells you tomorrow will be better.

That is a truly amazing feeling worth way more than an extra bottle of Suave Professionals Mint + Rosemary Moisturizing Shampoo.

This is MY motherfucking bathroom, Pinterest! In your face, you cold heartless wench!!!!!!

 

The Wondrous World Of Not Being A Bitch

Bitch.

That's a loaded word, right?  It's one of those "we've taken it back!" words that is now totally overused.

I personally enjoy the word "bitch" most when spoken by Aaron Paul on "Breaking Bad".

If you've never seen Breaking Bad before, you can see here that it's a jaunty show about magnets.

Man, Aaron Paul is adorable.  But moving on...

I don't understand why so many women nowadays think it's empowering to call themselves "a tough bitch."  Isn't being a tough woman good enough?  

Why do we have to use this negative word? 

Is it because we are "taking it back"?  And what on Earth does that even mean?  Taking WHAT back?  No one owns the word "bitch".  No one stole it from someone else.  It's public domain people, it's free to be said by anyone.  You're not the Robin Hood of swear words cause you're using it.

Don't you dare lie to me and say you didn't have a crush on this guy when you were 10.

It seems to me that "taking back" a rude slur like BITCH (or other much more severe words) really means you are allowing those morons who used this word to insult you to win.  

It's laying down dead- feeling like it's easier to accept the word than to fight against the tireless throngs of chauvinists who are calling you a bitch just because you said you weren't interested in driving 45 minutes to their house at 11:00 pm on a Thursday to play beer pong.

Is that really what we want?  Do we wanna walk around designating ourselves as BITCHES just because we are tenacious, candid, decisive women?  

And isn't it way more fun to brainstorm a list of awesome adjectives to describe yourself like "tenacious" than to say, "I told Randy that I didn't have time to make his copies cause I was busy with my own work... I guess I'm just the office BITCH." 

Yes, people are nasty and will label you with this word because your decisions put their panties in a bunch.

Yes, a lot of the time it will be because they are simply uncomfortable with how strong-willed you are.

And yes, some of the time it will be because you are being an asshole.

I'm just being real, ladies.  We can be jerkweeds too.

Acceptance of the word can transform into acceptance of the behavior the word elicits.

It's hard out there for the ladies.  We all know that.  And if you're a dude and you think life's easier for us just because sometimes we get free drinks due to our big boobies... I'll trade you my big boobies for your bigger paycheck.  Still interested?  Didn't think so.  Sometimes it can feel like we have to wear a lot of armor in order to protect ourselves against the army of bullshit that charges at us everyday.  

No please, explain to me again how my HMO covers Viagra but not my birth control pills.  I'm listening.

That being said, I am a woman who once fell victim to "taking back" the word bitch and in turn, allowed myself to just flat out BECOME A BITCH.  OH man... was I ever a bitch!  (It had a lot to due with my short lived stint of being a MySpace girl.)  I thought I was being strong... I wasn't.  I wasn't being honest, diligent and direct... I was being sarcastic, bitter and cold.  I picked fights and rolled my eyes at every chance I got.  I blew off my guy friends who had always treated me with respect because I didn't want to be 'sleeping with the enemy'.  I made myself as hard as I possibly could.  

...And I hurt a lot of people's feelings.  People who didn't deserve it.  All in the pursuit of "taking back bitch"... of trying to prove how TOUGH I was.

As time went on and I grew and life took it's punches at me, I learned... you don't have to be a bitch to prove that you're strong.  On the contrary, the times I felt the strongest and gained the most respect from others were when I mustered up all the humility I had inside of me and told someone that I was wrong, or kept myself level-headed and patient when I was incredibly upset.  

You wanna REALLY freak out a man? Admit that you were wrong when you were wrong.  

HOLY shit they look at you like you just made your reveal on an episode of THE SWAN!  

Sorry for reminding you about this.

It feels delicious to free yourself of pride and to take your armor off.  Armor weighs a freakin' TON, man... who wants to be walking around town wearing that shit?  Let it go!  You don't need it!  ...Why?

Because you are already strong without it.  

You survive as a woman in a world where being born a girl instantly puts you at a social disadvantage.  

You have menstrual cramps every month.  

You put up with assholes in college grabbing your ass.  

You hold your head high through your middle school awkward phase.  

You hug your boyfriend when he cries.  

You take care of your parents. 

You push another human being out of your vagina.  

You run a marathon.

You work hard to get a college degree.

You stand up for your children.  

You get your bikini line waxed.  

You balance your bank account.  

You get promoted.  

You speak your mind.  

You say "no".

You vote for whoever the hell you want to vote for.

You give to people who need help.  

You mow your own lawn.  

You drive the moving truck.  

You run six blocks to catch a bus in four inch heels. 

You are nurturers while being bread winners. 

 Be confident in knowing that you are a strong willed, hard working, loving, mature human being. 

That is enough.  

YOU are enough. 

So let's all challenge ourselves to let go of the word BITCH for a while and see how it makes us feel?  

I bet we feel better!

If not, feel free to come back and bitch at me.

This was at our "middle school" costume party back at college.  I went as a middle school bitch circa 1996.  Nailed it.

LEARN FROM ME,

Lindsay

PITTSBURGH: The Good, The Bad, and The Alcohol Poisoning

As discussed earlier this month, I have lived in a lot of different cities.  I've gotten to know the food, the public transportation, and the real estate in each city... it's been quite a trip.  And each city is drastically different from the next, (anyone who tells you Chicago is just a smaller version of New York is high on Willy Wonka drugs).

I would like to take the opportunity to state loud and proud my personal opinion on each of these cities.
Because I am opinionated.
And I am loud.
And I get tired of people putting their hands in my face and dismissing me just because they disagree with my opinion.  This way, if you hate what I think about your city (which, keep in mind, was also my city for a time) you can just flame me on Facebook or something!

Deal?... Deal.

First stop...

PITTSBURGH, PA

I lived in Pittsburgh for four years during college, where I went to Point Park University to get my BFA in Musical Theater.  I left for a few months after graduation to sublet in New York, but found myself back in Pittsburgh with my ex-boyfriend for another year soon after.

TOTAL YEARS LIVED IN PITTSBURGH:  5 & change
HOMES IN PITTSBURGH:  4, including my dorm.

                      

Why is Ben Roethlisberger  so violent when he lives in such a beautiful place?

PITTSBURGH IS A MAGICAL PLACE
Scoff at this if you've never been there, but this city has charisma.  Stay with me, on this...
I moved here straight from Seattle, and the first time I saw downtown I burst into tears.
It was so ugly.
I was used to huge, sparkling skyscrapers and a view of the mountains!  This was.... dirty.  I remember the first time I smelled those hair oils that were sold on card tables on the sidewalks... I thought they were drugs.
Not kidding.  I was young.
But as time went on I learned how truly ethereal this city could be.  It is a major city that is run by students.  The area of Oakland, where most of the college kids live is simply electric.
Now, something you have to understand about Oakland is that most of the housing in the area should be condemned, or has been condemned but the people living there couldn't care less if their ceiling caves in on them cause they only pay $350 in rent.  Think about this... Carnegie Mellon kids who are paying $150,000 for their degree in architecture are just chilling on these decrepit stoops, alongside the low-income families and gangbangers, drinking stale Lionshead out of red Solo cups.  Everyone has a little bit of a biting edge to them- even the "woo-hoo!" girls in their jean mini-skirts and sequined, pink, babydoll cut Steelers shirts seem like they are fully capable of punching a cop in the face.

The whole area smells like deli meat, sweat, gasoline, one night stands, and beer. And I'm not saying that's a bad thing.
I once watched a guy I took acting class with rip a GNC marquis off a building during a Steelers Superbowl riot IN FRONT OF COPS IN RIOT GEAR (imagine what would happen if the Pirates did anything worthwhile.)  I watched my coworkers start a rebellion against our 60 year old manager of Primanti Brothers because he called me a bitch, while the UPMC doctors on their lunch break cheered us on and ate their overstuffed sandwiches, "Fuck authority!  We'll burn this place to the ground with you guys!"  This is a very honest, proud and tough city.  And it will make you tougher.  It will slap you on the back of the head and tell you to stop being such a fancypants- go out there and get your hands dirty!

CITY OF BRIDGES AND WATER BUGS
Oh my God, have you ever seen a water bug?
Have you ever seen LOTS of them IN YOUR APARTMENT YOU JUST MOVED INTO?
Nightmareland!
See, the downfall of having students run rampant in your city is that it slowly starts to turn your city into a toilet.  It's simple arithmetic, really.

Poor, Desperate Students + An Old, Poor City =

Pittsburgh can be pretty rough.
The streets are cracked and eroded, the drivers are terrifyingly aggressive, the police have had-it-up-to-here with your nonsense, there is a surprisingly active gang scene, the weather pushes your body to the limits and there are bugs everywhere.  There seems to be no rush to spruce up Oakland whatsoever... and these buildings are falling apart at the seams.  However, the slumlords keep signing leases to unsuspecting Freshmen while their parents look on, horrified.
"How slummy IS IT?!"
Our apartment's front door fell off it's hinges.  Like, just gave up one day and fell off it's hinges!  And I don't blame it... it was probably 110 years old!  But that's how run-down these buildings are- the landlords couldn't care less and you convince yourself you don't either... that it's all part of this magical Pittsburgh experience.  

We had a funeral for our door.  As you can see, I wore my nicest outfit.

Another sucky thing about living in a college town is that you are surrounded by people in college.  Yes, this can be pretty sweet when you yourself are in college and it's all a  big, fun, smelly experiment... but when you're still there after graduation it can weigh on your nerves a bit.  Everywhere you look there's some dude in a "vintage" Pitt shirt with a snakebite piercing and Jack Kerouac tattoo telling you how lame your taste in music is.  Add to that the incessant partying and the absence of shits college kids give about anything... it can feel a bit like you are running a daycare full of hung over American Apparel models.

People who love Pittsburgh really love Pittsburgh.  It's very admirable.  And there's something to be said about a city that hasn't changed much since the 1970s.  When Allegheny County Chief Executive Dan Onorato placed a 10% tax on poured liquor in order to raise money for Public Transit, bars throughout Pittsburgh revolted and listed this tax as THE ONORATO TAX on receipts, as well as posting threatening signs in their windows.

$3.83?!  How will I feed my children?!

They might be the only human beings alive that revolted against the smoking ban in bars, too.  They basically just REALLY LIKE REVOLTING and staying just as they are.

Pittsburgh is like your accidentally-racist Grandpa who wears a "Who Farted?" hat, and smokes through his stoma.

But then again...wasn't that always the Grandpa that gave you a taste of his beer when you were a kid?  And dammit, even though he might get you kicked out of Applebees, you can't help but loving the old, stinky curmudgeon.

That's Pittsburgh.

We made snowballs out of the dirty snow from the filthy streets of the projects, then we poured bottom-shelf Peach Schaaps on them, then we ate them. 

 This is also known as one of the best nights of my life.  

LEARN FROM ME,

Lindsay

Future Self, I Promise Not To F#ck It All Up For You.

As I'm getting older I'm realizing that the decisions we make now have a much greater effect on our futures than they used to.

For example, when you were 17 and you decided to try your hand at Jazz Choir you could simply join a free choir in school and if you are fortunate, have your parents fork over the money to go on awesome and expensive trips to places like Disneyworld to compete with the choir...

... And then one year later decide singing jazz is super lame and you'll never do it again.
There's no consequences from these decisions at all.  At least, none that effect you directly.

You don't gotta tell me how good I looked in that vest. 

Now as an adult, if you wanna pick up a new fun hobby, let's say burlesque dancing, you gotta take the damn money outta your OWN account (once you have enough set aside, which will take about four months of planning) and tell your manager at work that you can no longer work on Tuesday or Thursday nights... ...Then you get called in to work one of those nights and you decide after a few weeks of classes that you'd rather make money than go to class.
...Then you just stop going to class altogether.
...Then you realize you spent $350 on absolutely nothing and you are no farther ahead than you were when you started planning your new and exciting career in burlesque dancing six months prior.  Except you have less money.  Balls.

"I could be trying on nipple tassels right now..."

Sounds horrible.
You'll just never pick up another hobby ever again.  (Except Blogging, apparently.)

I've found that decision making as an adult is terrifying.  And I don't even have children or a mortgage yet.

So!  I have decided to make a few important decisions NOW  that I suspect will help me to flourish in the future.


FUTURE SELF, I PROMISE TO GIVE MY DREAMS MY ALL
This is HARD, am I right??  It is so, so easy to let your dreams go by the wayside.  And it's sad.  I know that I have tried all sorts of things to fill the void where my dreams should be.  I've made a lot of money, had a good relationship, achieved a better body... but none of those things seemed to give me that delicious feeling of fulfillment.  Then one day I finally realized... when was the last time I let myself focus on my DREAM?  What I spent a LOT of money studying to do.  What I am passionate about.  What I trained for for years.  I don't have to let go of that dream.  I don't have to sink into a desk chair and spend my life saying "Yes sir" to people I don't know.  I promise myself that while I am relatively young I will chase my dreams hard.  I will not divorce my dreams.  I will let myself montage the shit out of my dreams until I am on top of my game and bathing in that yummy feeling of achievement.



FUTURE SELF, I PROMISE TO GET MY DEBT UNDER CONTROL
Carrying a debt around feels gross.  It makes you question if you posses any self control whatsoever, or if you will forever be Forever21's bitch.  And if you're like me and money scares you it is very easy to just cover your ears and quip to your friends "Ugh... there's KAREN again..." when the bill collectors keep calling.  I promise myself that I will get over my fear of money (ie "mature") and chip away at my debt NOW.  That way, when my daughter asks for a pair of $89.00 parachute pants from Abercrombie and Fitch in 2022 when they circle back around and become popular again,  I will be able to provide her with those pants.  And a heaving eye roll.


FUTURE SELF, I PROMISE TO BE REALLY HOT
Laugh all you want, but I'm just gonna try my hardest.  I'm gonna be good to myself.  I'm gonna remember how amazing it feels when I have sweat running down my body after a four mile run.  I promise to keep taking care of myself and making myself a top priority- because if I'm looking in the mirror every morning and hating what I see... I have a feeling I won't be a very pleasant person to spend the day with.


FUTURE SELF, I PROMISE TO BE A GOOD FACEBOOK FRIEND
I really don't understand people who are "against" Facebook and social networking programs.  Social networking programs are amazing and damn near necessary with how hectic our lives have become.  I understand that writing letters is soooooo much more personal and blah blah blah, but when was the last time our society had time to write letters to every single loved one we want to stay in contact with?  I promise myself to stay connected to my friends... even when I'm busy and I feel like the last thing in the world I have time to do is check in on them.  They are my second family, they have been my rock for years.  These people loved me back when I had pink streaks in my hair... I gotta at LEAST *like* the photo of their puppy wearing a D.A.R.E. shirt.

I cannot tell a lie.  (@richbinning)

FUTURE SELF, I PROMISE TO BE A PATIENT PARTNER
There's a big difference between "learning from your mistakes" and "projecting your bad experiences on a new person".  I can't tell you how many times I've been caught being unnecessarily hard on my loving boyfriend.  If there was a degree in Ripping People New Assholes I would probably be minoring in it with poor Ryan.  I promise myself that I will not punish my boyfriend for the mistakes other men have made.   I'm going to start practicing this behavior NOW- while things are simple in our relationship (see: "no children", "no mortgage").  Things get more complicated when there's a piece of paper between two people- I know this because I am a kid of divorce, just like 50% of you are.  I promise myself that I will work very hard every day to be nurturing, loving, positive and loyal to my partner.  And on days where it's really difficult to do that cause he just will NOT put his dishes in the sink I'll remind myself that no one wants to get down with an angry girlfriend.  Stay calm, girl... bitter is the nastiest of all the flavors.

I Also Promise To...
Take care of my teeth.

Listen to my children.

Start wearing sunscreen.

Never smoke cigarettes.

Say "Please", "Thank You", and "I Love You" frequently.

Donate my time to charity.

Always find a way to forgive.

Take the chance to make someone laugh.

Be easy on myself.

Pray.

Promises are important.  And the ones we make to ourselves are of high priority.  It's like having a Happiness Contract with yourself. 

Think I'm lame?  That's fine by me- I'll just go enjoy my burlesque classes in Happiness Land without you.

                            

Dear God!  This is what pops up when you Google search "Happiness Land"!

LEARN FROM ME,

X_____ Lindsay___________________________________

Men get a bad rap, man...

There's a good chance I'm about to piss a lot of girls off with this.

Okay before I start, let's get something straight.  I love women.  No, I luuuuuuuuuuuuurve women.  I try my ass off everyday to be a lady-lover instead of being a nasty bitch.

"You don't have to hate men to love women."  
-Said someone before me at some point in time.

I spent all of my teen years allowing myself to be a doormat for dudes.  I had read my friend's Maxims and thought I had some "inside scoop" into how to be a "Cool Girl".  I wanted guys to think of me as this easy-going, chill, fun, hot, badass chick who they would all surely fall in love with at the same time and come chasing after me like in a Jennifer Love Hewitt movie.

Think about those adjectives I just listed.  Not one of them has anything to do with respect, or holding MYSELF in high esteem.  All I cared about was making it "easy" for boys.  Not BEING easy... but making it easy.  I never wanted a guy to complain about me taking too long in the bathroom, or shelling out too much for dinner, or having to put in the extra effort to open my car door... I wanted dating me, or even loving me, to be easy-peasy.
Because that's what the magazines said men wanted.
And the magazines are ALWAYS RIGHT.

This is clearly someone a 14 year old should be taking life advice from.

Now I know I can't be the only girl out there who is guilty of this behavior.  Who said things were "Okay" when they were really having a nuclear explosion bombing their heart.  Who put it out there to all the dudes that it was fine if they weren't their priority.  Who stuck around when they should have walked away.  Who didn't DEMAND RESPECT through respecting themselves.  

So how could I blame them?  How could I call these guys jerks and say they didn't care about me?  I was literally training these men to give as little of a shit about me as possible.  I was my own worst enemy!

I was just as guilty of emotional immaturity as they were.

But they were the ones villainized for their behavior.  Men tend to be.  Even look at the way men are portrayed in sitcoms: the doofy, clueless husband who can NEVER seem to remember his anniversary!

I'm really only with you for your looks, Jim.

As I've "matured" (aaaahahaha) I've learned my lessons and finally around October of last year I realized something... Men don't want the "easy to get" girl.  When in the history of time was a song written about falling in love with the girl that who was easy to get and did whatever a man wanted??

Well, maybe a few in Puritan times.  Probably a lot in Puritan times, actually.

But other than that, what I found was that the women that these men were falling in love with and committing to and bending over backwards for were the women who weren't taking any shit.  Who KNEW that they were worth the extra work.  Who called men out on their crap.  Who stood up for themselves and what they wanted.  Who turned down last minute, thrown together invitations from guys because they had plans with their girls.  Who stood by their men because their men stood by them.  Who didn't falter.  Who were strong ass, awesome dames.  And wonderful girlfriends.

....They were really the "COOL GIRLS"!  

THE MAGAZINES LIED TO ME!!!!!

This is your brain on "Cosmo".

GOOD men want you to respect yourself.  They really do.  I haven't observed a whole lot of successful relationships that were born out of a woman doing whatever a man told her to do and always being treated as second banana.  The relationships I've watched flourish in front of me were ones where there was a MUTUAL adoration between not only the two partners, but an adoration each had for themself.  

I wish I could go back in time and talk to 17 year old me... (okay, or go back in time to like 16 months ago...)  

I'd probably tell her:

• Any man who is after your heart and not just your lady bits will be okay with waiting.
• It's okay to demand more from someone.  
• If a man has a problem "making the trip" to your place, and you're always going over to his.  RUN.
• If you are a secret, you will always be a secret.
• A man who loves you will be chomping at the bit to show you off to his buddies.
• Say "no" when you need to say "no".  You're not helping anyone by lying.
• There's a huge difference between being "one of the guys" and a "guy's girl"
• You should never have to force someone into loving you.
• When the right guy comes along, it'll happen easily.  Because HE will want to make it easy just like you do.

Men are hunters.  They are competitive.  They are show offs.  Innately.  It's how God made 'em.  It's why we love 'em.  Why take away their thrill of the hunt?  Don't "play hard to get"... don't "play" anything.  Just be you.  And if what he's offering isn't enough for you... leave.  Simple.  Weed out the ones that don't look good in your garden (analogy points!)

Take a breath.  Stop downgrading yourself.  Smile, be friendly, live your life for YOU and watch the men fall down at your feet.... Then help them up, make them a Maker's Mark Manhattan and enjoy a lovely evening together.

Men are wonderful.  Men aren't the enemy.  Cosmo is.  And probably Denise Richards too, somehow.

Happy Relationship- Achieved.  

LEARN FROM ME,

Lindsay

"Moving builds charact-" Please shut up and just sit on this box so I can tape it.

I am 27 years old and I have called 17 different places home.

I'm not even talking about a room I rented for a summer gig or anything like that.  No sublets, no temporaries...

I have LIVED in 17 places.  Signed leases.  Filled up drawers.  Put stuff on the walls.  17 different places that were SUPPOSED to be permanent until life got to the end of a chapter in Choose Your Own Adventure:  Lindsay's Life and decided to"take the mysterious, winding pathway towards the wizard's castle" instead of "sit under apple tree."

What I'm trying to say is, your life only has 22 possible endings.

"Moving builds character!"  Is what people who have moved less than ten times in their life will tell you.   Sure, it builds character... it also builds stress, anger, debt and a resentment for the human race.  But let's go through this step by step so that we all can appreciate just how much of an emotional roller coaster moving is.


You will lose a large number of material items that you felt a strong emotional connection to.  And it's gonna be really sad.  You will tear apart boxes looking for something that you've held onto since you were a child.  Maybe something your Grandmother gave you that was small and worth no money... but it's emotional value was priceless and you thought you'd have it forever.  You'll lose things like that.  I've lost countless keepsakes, cards, jewelry, pictures and gifts... and I haven't forgotten about any of them.
But the silver lining to this heartbreaking feeling is that you will learn that things are exactly that... things.  It's just a seashell sitting on your chest of drawers.  Losing the seashell doesn't mean you lose the beautiful memory attached to it.  The memory is what is truly important.

You will learn to read the small print in contracts.  I hate to say it, but even if they don't intend to... most brokers, movers, truck rental agencies, cable companies, electric companies, supers and landlords are all out to swindle every last cent from your bank account.  ALWAYS read the small print and feel like a boss in the process.

You will have moments where you resemble a screaming, angry, bloated, middle aged Wall Street guy.   Those people who are out to swindle you?  After your first few moves you'll start catching them in their tracks.  And you will have a lot of fun calling them out on their bullshit.  Moving, and dealing with these people, really helped me to grow a set of girl-balls and start standing up for myself.
If you are blessed with loving parents, you probably will go through high school and maybe even college with them sticking up for you and fighting your battles.  But then you hit your your twenties- and then it is time to learn how to tell the movers you hired on Craigslist that no, you will NOT pay another $100 for the extra mover because they never told you that each additional mover cost an extra $100.  They are scamming you.
Stand up for yourself when someone is trying to have one over on you.  Stand your ground.  Say "NO".

No, Dymetrious Papinaou you will only get the 25% broker fee we ORIGINALLY DISCUSSED!!!

You will realize that you are able to lift far more weight than you ever thought you could.  I will heave and haw when I am carrying two bags of food home from Trader Joe's... But when I was moving out of the condo I lived in with my ex without any help I was suddenly able to maneuver 75 lbs boxes to and fro.  It makes you feel like Superwoman.

You will find out how disgusting you really are.  Ever want to feel like you belong on a self-help show on TLC?  Move your bed away from the wall and take a looksy at what has accumulated underneath it.  Don't say I didn't warn you.  

Trust me, I'm GONNA NEED that Cra-Z Art 250 Piece Deluxe Art Set SOON!

You will have a new found love and appreciation for your friends and family.  I watched one of my friends parallel park my moving truck, I witnessed my 50 year old dad carry my new 100 lbs Ikea dresser up four flights of stairs, I've been given all sorts of odds and ends from loved ones trying to fill my homes with things that I needed.  I have been amazed at the favors people will offer up to you for no other reason than their love for you.  This is an incredibly life-affirming part of moving.  Bask in it.

You will learn that you CAN save money.  I know I'm NOT the only one out there who has been overheard saying, "Ugggggh I NEED to start saving moooooneeeeey," while sipping on a $4.00 chai tea latte.  Look, it's what we do day to day.  But have you ever realized that when you have a move rapidly approaching you can find ways to save $3000 in four months, when you were never able to do so before?  If none of us truly possessed the skill to save money than none of us would ever move.  Ever.  I remember this anytime I get overwhelmed by money.  I remind myself of all those times I have been able to buckle down and fork out first month's rent, last month's rent, security deposit, broker's fee, moving truck, plane ticket and still manage to have my $4.00 chai tea latte.  We are ALL CAPABLE of saving money.  It still sucks though.

You will lose weight out of nowhere.  It's true!  Maybe it's the saving money and not eating big lunches, maybe it's the lifting boxes, maybe it's sweating out the weight having anxiety dreams... but yeah, you're probably gonna shed a few pounds.

You will be presented with great challenges and you will overcome them.  You know why?  Cause you have to.  That's a lesson my mother taught me at a young age.  "Things will be okay because they HAVE to be okay."  Read and repeat that to yourself.  "Things will be okay because they HAVE to be okay." Nothing is going to happen to you during this move that will ruin your life.  You will not end up living out of a cardboard box.  Just stand your ground, grow up, work hard and take big breaths.  Get ready for a FABULOUS feeling of self-satisfaction afterwards.  You have just finished something that is extremely difficult.  You have achieved a goal.  Congratulations, you are AWESOME!

One of those amazing friends I was talking about took this photo of me the day I moved into my current apartment.

LEARN FROM ME,

Lindsay

PS:  Think I'm full of shit with the moving 17 times thing?  Chew on this, sucka!

Lindsay Has Lived....

My parent's first home in Maplewood, NJ.  This house was adorable and had a pool and a stairway that split into the kitchen and living room- making it almost as awesome as the Full House house.

My family's first home in Washington state.  This was a classic, brand new, yuppy home on the top of a cul-de-sac.  It was breathtaking.  And it was haunted with what I THINK were ghosts of American Indians.  But cul-de-sac 4th of July parties are worth the price of a few apparitions.

My mom's apartment she rented after my parent's separated.  This was the only time I ever had to share a bedroom with my little brother.  "Poor little upper-middle-class girl," I know right?

Both of my parents got their own homes approximately one mile away from each other after they divorced.  This put me in the "rich kid" school district, which I did not fit in well with.  This was around the time I really got addicted to the internet.

Then, both my parents moved AGAIN when my mom got re-married.  Into two brand new, housing development "little boxes" homes.  Again, one mile away from each other.

My dorm.  Another haunted home of mine.  This one was even scarier.

My first apartment in the ghetto of Pittsburgh.  The first time I saw water bugs and centipedes.  Dear my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ PLEASE never let me see them again.

My second apartment, across the street from the first.  With two of my best girlfriends.  My bedroom door didn't have a handle on it- you had to jimmy it open with a key.  God, college is awesome.

My first apartment in NYC after graduation.  I moved back to Pittsburgh after only a few months to be with my first real-deal boyfriend whose name was Ian.

Ian's apartment in Pittsburgh.  My first time living with a boyfriend.  

Ian and my first disgusting apartment in Chicago.  Also known as the place we got bed bugs.  Seriously the worst thing ever.

Ian and my second apartment in Chicago.  This place was a dream.  A condo in a luxury building!  A swimming pool!  A view of the city AND the park!  A 24 hour concierge!  But then we broke up.  Bye Chicago!

My Dad's new condo.  I moved back in with them to figure out my life.  Living with your parents is challenging when you haven't done it in seven years.

My triumphant return to NYC with my best friend Jordan.  We had a beautiful apartment and amazing times in it.  This was a real home.  It was lovely.  Then Jordan left for the opportunity of his life on the Mary Poppins tour.  And it was time to get my own place.

My home now.  Another dream.  A gorgeous studio in a new building.  There's no furniture in it, but it's all mine.

My Attempt at Being A "MySpace Girl"

If you have big boobs, you know what a pain in the ass they can truly be.  However, you will spend a lifetime hearing from B-cupped women how lucky you are to have cleavage up to your chin, while you're thinking, "It'd be sweet to be able to wear tunic style shirts without looking like Mama Cass."

The grass is always greener on the other side, right?

Well, this thought process is exactly why when I was 19 years old I decided I had had enough of being the busty, blonde, sweet, girl-next-door and decided it was time to take a walk on the wild side.

It was time to become a MySpace Girl.

Yes, that's a naval piercing poking out between my AWESOME Hollister pants and HILARIOUS T-shirt about New Jersey!

"What's a MySpace Girl?"  

Oh you silly little person from the future who is reading this blog, let me tell you about these women of yester-year:

See, long before there was Instagram making it as easy as 123 to look like a professional photographer, we had a different breed of social media mavens; the Myspace Girls.  These girls took photos of themselves that would even make David LaChapelle say, "Let's be 'Friends'!"  

Here's a short list of things that made MySpace Girls so cool:

AMAZING makeup.  
These bitches could wing out their liquid liner in ways I didn't know was possible.  They'd wear faux eyelashes to the gas station.  They knew how to wear purple, green and blue eye shadow all at once and WERK IT OUT.

FABULOUS hair.  
Either cut pixie short, or rocked with loooooong extensions.  Bonus points for chunky blonde highlights in black hair.

BADASS tattoos.
Chest pieces of guns on 125 pound girls from the suburbs.  Enough said.

ROCKSTAR wardrobe.
Somehow they managed to pair huge acetate Chanel earrings with bandannas draped around their necks.  How??  How did they make this work??

They also all had cool names like Niki[Nadar] and deedee^DYNAmite

Tell me this girl isn't the awesomest.

Amazing.  Fabulous.  Badass.  Rockstars.  Why WOULDN'T you want to be just like them?  And on top of everything, it seemed like all the hot guys in bands ate out of their hands.  These girls fascinated and intimidated me all at the same time.

I really wanted one of these boys to love me.

So I went ahead and tried on a new persona.  I cut my hair pixie short and sampled a gamut of hair colors from BLEACHED blonde all the way to jet black, I wore faux eyelashes everyday (even in dance class.  WTF was I thinking?), I buckled my belt to the side on low-slung skinny jeans, I tried to self-gauge my ears (don't do this), and I even got my very own nape-of-the-neck tattoo.

Oh, hello!  I didn't see you there!  I was just hangin' in my room with a full face of makeup on at 11:00 pm.

I tried my damnedest to fit in with that crowd.
But it never worked.  I never got the attention I so badly wanted.  Or the hundreds of comments on my pictures on MySpace that the other girls had.  What was I doing wrong??   MAN was I annoyed... And more intimidated of these girls than ever.  If they could pull this off and I couldn't, that must mean they were better than me.  This "less-than" feeling I inflicted on myself transformed quickly into judgement.  I started looking at their pictures differently- making bitchy comments about them.  

"Why do you need to take so many pictures of yourself in the first place?  How VAIN are you??"

It took me a long time to realize that my venture into "the other side" wasn't as "green" as it looked from where I used to be.  With time, my hair went back to my natural dirty blonde, my Hot Topic jewelry was thrown away, the small amount of gauging in my ears closed up, and I stopped pretending I loved thrash-core metal so much.

Just in case you were ever wondering what my pores looked like in 2005.  Cause I know you were.

I still have the tattoo, though.  And I'm glad I do.  That tattoo is a reminder of the risk I took trying something new and scary.  That I made huge changes in my life to see if I'd like it better than what I had been comfortable with for years.  I'm so happy for those couple of years.  And I have a lot of amazing memories to look back on because of those changes!

I still stalk those rock star, bad ass girls on Instagram who are so damn good at taking gorgeous, tired-eyed, lips-open sexy photos of themselves.  However, I don't feel the jealousy or the judgment anymore, but more a strange level of respect for them... now knowing how TRULY DIFFICULT it is to succeed at taking those dang pictures and living that look.

And I still try!  I take pictures of myself every so often and post them to Instagram.  Let's be real here, it's fun and it gives you a little confidence boost with every *like* you receive.

But I know who I am now, and who I am is someone who will always be too shaky in the hands to wing out her eyeliner properly.  And someone who feels far more beautiful and confident wearing a Forever 21 sundress than a ripped up vintage sweatshirt.

Good for those girls.  They've honed a very fun skill.  And they're beautiful and creative.

I guess the point of all this is- if you really believe the grass is always greener on the other side, take a trip over there and see if you still feel the same way!  You'll still be welcome back onto your own grass if you change your mind.  It's a good thing to switch up your "given circumstances" and see where life leads you.  Maybe you'll make discoveries about yourself and other people that you wouldn't have made otherwise.  You'll see how the "other half" live.  You'll gain new perspective.  I highly recommend it.

Still, don't try to gauge your own ears.

@lindsaylieu

Me!

LEARN FROM ME,

Lindsay