For all intents and purposes, I am a pretty confident gal. I think my personality is the bomb.com, I am funny, I have a great haircut and – when I put on enough makeup – I can look pretty damn good.

But, just like any normal person, I have my insecurities. I am not as skinny as the other girls out at the bar, my boobs are a little…well…little, and no matter how good I look, I know there are Barbie look alikes all around me.

So, I must wonder why on earth I keep finding myself in the arms of some ridiculously good looking guys. Like, the guy you admire from afar but never talk to because you know he’s got a Heidi Klum lookin’ GF on the other side. The same exact guys who would never give me a second look, let alone an orgasm when I was in school.

I am not complaining – far from it – but I just don’t understand why suddenly these sexy, tall, sexy, way out of my league (did I mention sexy?) guys keep wanting me. What is different now from then? Read More »

I spend a lot of time telling myself to relax.

Relax, I tell myself. It’s okay that you didn’t have time to straighten your bangs this morning–no one is looking at you. It’s okay that you just said something really stupid to a tourist on the subway–no one is noticing you. No one else really knows you exist. RELAX.

Unfortunately, my seemingly-insane paranoia was validated yesterday.

My boyfriend and I went into a diner that I haven’t been to for about three years. And this is Manhattan, right, so there have been millions of patrons since the last time I’ve been there. And I was never a regular customer or anything like that.

So yesterday I’m in this diner and the waiter brings me my cup of tea and he says, didn’t you used to wear glasses? i remember you–you came in here a few years ago.

And I almost peed myself. Read More »

I’ve always been better friends with guys. I don’t know if it’s because I grew up with three brothers, or what, but I always seem to get along with them better.

Girls to me are just vicious. Sometimes it’s hard for me to deal with the constant talking behind each other’s backs, the judgment passed on everything from hairstyles to clothing—I need to retreat back to my boys and take a deep breath.

This doesn’t mean that I don’t have those same mean girl tendencies, or that I don’t have close girl friends. I will definitely make fun of someone’s outfit that I find…outrageous. But I think the biggest clue that a girl is a bitch is when she doesn’t have any girl friends—she’s obviously screwed over a lot of people, or has screwed a lot of people’s boyfriends. Read More »