One of the joys of maturing into responsible adults is the new, more equal relationship we can establish with our parents. It’s cool to be able to grab a brewski at family barbecues (double-y cool because you didn’t have to pay for it), usually leading to an awesome opportunity to sit around and gab with the fam about your hilarious exploits away at school.

This table time can often result in blackmail-worthy anecdotes about your Mom’s coed days from Uncle Bill. Unfortunately, it can also result in HORRIBLE AWKWARDNESS should you overshare and let slip any of the following (I know, I thought they’d be cool with it too):

1) That time you got so drunk at the club that you passed out in the bathroom.
Also not good to share: the fact that your equally wasted friends did not notice your sudden absence, and were alerted to your condition only when the cleaning staff found you at 6 am. This story, while earning you street cred amongst your fellow college lushes (I think it’s hilarious, obv), will not go over well with Mom for various reasons. 1) Contrary to her own experiences in college, she would like to believe that you–her responsible and intelligent daughter– would never participate in such tomfoolery. 2) She ain’t sending you to school to get drunk.

Best to skip this little tale and save it for a more appropriate time: boasting during “This one time, I was so drunk…” circles. Read More »

If my alma mater offered a degree program for being a wingman, I’d have graduated valedictorian, magna cum laude, and have seven thousand honors cords around my neck commemorating my achievements.

Instead, I have friend-couples (you know, the couples you were friends with before they were couples) sprinkled through my social calendar, all with their own cute little anecdotes and acknowledgments that without me, they probably would’ve given up halfway through.

One of my best friends even said that she wished I had a me, so that I could be dating someone, too.

If you’re pausing because, hold up, the best way to have a me is for her to a be a me, that’s what I thought too. I tried to explain that to her. Read More »

I was awakened at 6 AM by construction after the first night in my new apartment. I’m not much of a morning person until I’ve had about two cups of coffee (and the coffee maker has yet to be purchased), so needless to say I was a little disgruntled and unable to fall back asleep. At about seven thirty, post-shower, post-throwing together work attire, I decided to heave open my window and let some sunshine in, hoping it would counter the effects of my sleepless morning. As I looked down to the patio below my window, I saw him.

And he was beautiful. Button down, surely the bottom half of a suit, standing up from finishing his coffee on his patio. And looking up at me…

Looking up at me. So I sort of eeped and stepped back from my window. Sadly, I wasn’t quite at my most beautiful point of the day.

What a predicament. Beautiful man living right below me, single per the landlord’s description, early riser who likes sunshine and fresh air with his breakfast. And the patio element… I need to befriend him, for the summer at the very least. Backyard-ish space in the city is prime real estate, you have to capitalize on it. Read More »