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