All the Pockets You Need

dress with pockets

Hello Lovelies,

As a woman, many of you may know, it is a rare day that I am given the glory of usable pockets in clothes. Honestly, the front pockets on women’s jeans are there for fashion not function, it’s nearly a joke. And a dress with pockets is as rare as a snowflake in hell. To be frank, I wouldn’t be surprised if there was an entire fetish site devoted to dresses with pockets for women ( I haven’t verified that, so feel free to disagree).

So, with this being said, you can imagine my surprise when I came across a perfectly fitting, semi-formal, strap-less dress in a random Goodwill in the boonies. Needless to say I was smitten. It’s a soft, barely pinstripe, lovely gray thing hitting in just the right place above my knee. The perfect sort of dress to wear to a banquet or wedding. I’m actually crossing my fingers someone gets engaged soon. If my magic finger-crossing voo-doo gets you a ring on your finger, you had best invite me. I can giveth and taketh away, my dears.

Now, as if that wasn’t enough to gush over, I have one more thing. Normally, I wouldn’t do this. I’d keep this tidbit to myself. I’d hoard it like a cat with one of those singular feather earrings, thinking  what a grand present was brought home just for me. But, here it goes:  when I told my boyfriend about this dress, knowing all the while he could never truly appreciate the glory of a dress with pockets, but sharing anyways, he said back to me:

“That’s cute, but you know you don’t need pockets… I’m your boyfriend, I’ve got all the pockets you need. :)”

I was a bit shocked at first. It was abrasively sweet. I felt like a lonely book in a Paperback exchange that finally found its’ forever home in some posh cozy book nook on the lower East side. I felt like a Taylor Swift song. He was nine hundred miles away but I felt totally embraced.  The message was teetering on overly sentimental. Still, it felt so good, not unlike that tiny rush of adrenaline in the isle of a shop when you run across a dress with pockets.

xoxo,
-E

 

The Ideal Man

Hello Lovelies,

I just ate an entire bread dish of strawberries with sugar in under six minutes. Naturally, this got me thinking about my ideal boyfriend. Of course I know this man is a figment of my imagination, and I certainly won’t turn away a good guy if he happens not to align with my list, exhibit A. my own boyfriend currently.

So here it goes.

#1 Obviously, he needs to have a big appetite. This is most likely the thing I had in mind as I devoured 4 servings of sugar covered strawberries in record time. I have this odd habit of adjusting my eating habits to those around me. So if I’m out with a friend or new male prospect I tend to eat as long as they do. In general I have a huge appetite. The kind of appetite that allows me to finish off 4 Krispy Kreme doughnuts in five minutes and then have a hefty bowl of cereal fifteen minutes later. Save your lectures. I’m a pro. I know what I’m doing. Do not try at home.

mens shoes

#2 Good Shoes. This is a signal that this male has matured. A guy with good taste in shoes is usually thoughtful, reasonably eloquent and hopefully has a good job to pay for said shoes. I don’t know why, but a man in a nice pair of oxfords, well built boots or specifically chosen, trendy sneakers is a big turn on. This person is also likely to be a good gift giver. Happy Birthday!

#3 A good sense of humor. I know, I know. This is unoriginal. Nearly everyone on the planet, minus perhaps the Evil Witch, has this on her list. However, it’s true. I don’t want someone I can’t laugh with. I need a guy that will laugh at corny Google-found jokes. I would like someone that appreciates Will Ferrell and Mindy Kaling with the same reckless fan-girl abandon as me… also, ideally someone who is ticklish.

#4 Loves to Learn. I know we all have our special qualities, and some people aren’t meant for school. These people also aren’t meant to be my boyfriend. Sure, of course we can be friends. Let’s barbeque together! Let’s go hang by the lake. Let’s not date. As one of those wildly ambitious young ladies that get nervous when I run out of things on my to-do list, I need someone equally involved in education. Who knows when I’ll be finished with my education? Will one doctorate degree be enough? I can’t be sure, and I need someone who will be okay, even be supportive of that.
scary movie#5 Not a Scaredy Cat. It’s not that all men must be fearless, emotionless James Bonds. However, I love scary movies. I believe in ghosts and aliens. I adore those silly haunted walk things you find in cities like Charleston, South Carolina and Richmond, Virginia. I want someone to enjoy all of that with me. By enjoy all of that with me, I mean that I want someone who after watching The Ring, will convince me not to throw away all of my Disney VHS’s  I love so much. I want someone just excited as me to see Paranormal Activity 14 and World War Z. If they can convince me that the creek is not a snake pit that will collectively swallow me whole if I swing in by classic rope swing, I will swoon.

#6 Gracious Tipper… There’s an old saying that we all marry out fathers (or perhaps mother’s in some of your cases, I suppose, but we’re talking about me right now and I’m heterosexual.) Growing up my Dad was known for being a gracious tipper. We could be scrapping the bottom of the barrel just to go out to a restaurant, but if it meant everyone orders water instead of tea or soda, our server was getting a good tip. One major turn off is lowballing an excellent waitress or waiter. Give them what they deserve; for God’s sake they’re making 3.12 an hour. If you’re treating me and I have to supplement your tip, don’t expect a second date, or second base.

#6 Speaking of my parents: respect them. Respect them, but honor me. If you have done so well as to have gotten the opportunity to meet my parents, treat them with the utmost respect and you will win us all over. My parents are awesome in-laws. My mom is hilarious and sweet, and my Dad is super smart and helpful. If you were to imagine your ideal in-laws right now, you’d be envisioning my parents.  The trick here is when I fight with my parents the ideal boyfriend will support me, without bashing my parents, especially since in an hour, I will have made up with them, and sometimes changed my mind all together.

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#7 Southern Exposure, the last thing I feel incredibly committed to (besides the obvious, is a nice person, has a good heart, isn’t disgusting or a racist misogynist) is that they must love and accept Southern culture. I don’t care where they’re from but they have to be open to Southern hospitality, grits and sweet tea. I have this freakish heightened since of patriotism to my state. I love North Carolina probably more than television and Ikea combined. t’s the variety state, sea, mountains and piedmont… city and country, the history is rich and the people are mostly lovely. We’re the creator of the Krispy Kreme doughnut, Pepsi, Cook Out and Bo jangles, Nicholas Sparks, and more. Not to mention first in flight, and home of the mysterious lost colony,Dirty Dancing, Ricky Bobby. Jesus, I love North Carolina. The point is, I cannot date someone who isn’t open to loving North Carolina at least half as much as I do. No jokes about marrying cousins or being toothless. In fact, that’s a good way to get a knee to the groin, just a warning.

Okay, a little longer than expected, which I guess dreams usually are more than we expect, aren’t they? What’s your ideal? Have fun with it, what qualities or quirks would your ideal boyfriend or girlfriend possess?

xoxo,
-E

We Were Mismatched

Hello Lovelies,

There comes a moment in some relationships when you realize you’re mismatched. Like socks, puzzle-pieces, china… something just doesn’t click. It’s not that either of you are bad but when it comes down to it you realize the lock doesn’t fit the key and it never will. You have to let go. It will suck, but at some point, you won’t have a choice.

murky tides for clear hearts (explored)

I’m letting go for a number of reasons. I knew I had no choice when he said things would fade away by next fall and he was okay with that. He didn’t seem shaken or concerned that what was now wouldn’t be around later. At that point, I could no longer continue. It was too desolate a future.

There’s some quote that says to wait for the person you can’t live without. Well, I think there should be some statement for the person who can’t live without you, as well. In the fall, I’ll be in London, “away laughing on a fast camel,” Georgia Nicholson might say. Thankfully, what I won’t be is tied down. But I’m concerned to begin with that I was ever using terminology like “tied down” to describe whatever sort of relationship I had. I’m a communication studies major, which means it’s basically my religion to pay attention to rhetoric. And this time, unfortunately, all the words were pointing to goodbye.

It’s not that he wasn’t good and sweet and kind, he was. He was smart enough, too. I’d forgotten how nice it is to be with someone who knows you. A person who remembers what sauce you like at McDonald’s …what milkshake you want at Sonic… the celebrities you crush on; a person who knows your buttons and chooses not to press them. It was so nice being with someone who was content doing homework with me on Sunday, never commented on my calorie intake and cared to put up with my friends.

But that really can’t be enough can it? I say no. I want all those things, but I deserve more too. For now, while I might be a little sad, I’m letting go. I might step a little lighter, knowing I’m stronger. It wasn’t love. It was good company. Sometimes that’s hard to recognize. The future is foggy but not dark. I’m open to it.

i've been going madxoxo,
-E

HuffPost Blogger Weighs In

Hello Lovelies

A few days ago I gave my two cents on the Taylor Swift fiasco. To summarize, don’t judge other’s based on their sexuality.  Also anyone who dates Taylor may get a song or two written about them, but they also get tons of publicity, meaning they reap plenty of rewards for the time with T. However,  Saturday morning a Huffington Post blogger weighed in, so I thought I’d share just to reiterate. Afterall, two heads are better than one.

xoxo,
-E

Dear 20 Somethings,

☜ Sexuality continues.

Hello 20 Something lovelies from near and far,

With my teens behind me and twenty-thirteen ahead, I thought long and hard about what my first post of the new year should be. Somehow, mid shower, with T-swift’s twenty-two blaring against the cheaply tiled bathroom of my sister’s starter apartment, it came to me: excuse my French, screw you One Direction.

My twitter feed is rolling a story of a heartbroken confused, twenty-something Taylor Swift left by Harry Styles for being an antique loving prude. It’s no secret that I’m a fan of T-Swift, scroll through my past posts the evidence is written on my wall. However, this is a matter beyond blondie.

I’m talking to you twenty-somethings, sluts and prudes alike.

Only you have the right to judge your sexual endeavors or lack there of. Period. You,  but especially not some boy band kid found on basic cable. When we subscribe to young bloods like Taylor Swift being judged for her sexual choices, we give others permission to judge us as well. Make your decisions based on you, what you want, and what’s right for you, whether in that moment, or for the long-term. Do not allow overly coiffed teeny-boppers, or “insiders” to decide what’s right and wrong with your twenty-something sexuality. Draw your own lines where you see fit, but do not tolerate slut shaming, do not tolerate prude shaming.

“People who look down on other people don’t end up being looked up to.” — Robert Half    

xoxo,
-E

True Life: Unfortunately.

Hello Ladies and Gents,

Heads up: This post is best read to the soundtrack: Hiroshima by Ben Folds

fainting woman on sofa Ready, Set, Summer!

Well I’ll start by saying my title is pretty dramatic. Now the truth is kinda redick: I fainted in front of my non-boyfriend while listening to a Bill Clinton speech, but hey, things could be worse right?

I have a non-boyfriend (an unofficial boyfriend kind of) . He’s sweet, smart and sexy, the three s’s of a really great non-boyfriend. We’ve been talking for a month and a half, so ideally, I would’ve left the fainting for after we’d at least become official.

However, my empty stomach; over excited in an overheated high school gymnasium disagreed.  So there, half way through Bill’s rally for Obama, I went down, kind of slinked down his legs to the ground, so at least I didn’t completely fall over…yet. Nope, then I tried to walk to the bathroom, went down again… then fell over into a pole. Life was too good.

Some lady holding a slobbery toddler then tried to feed me applesauce out of a pouch, to which I had enough good sense to say uhh no thanks! I’d like to hold on to a shred of my dignity tonight! This was after an EMS worker basically gave me the prime diagnosis that I was a freaking idiot and needed to not be anorexic and eat a damn meal. Cool, thanks I’ll get on that right way!

Yep, that happened. Sometimes I just wonder if my life is simply a joke to amuse you folks. But hey, things could be worse. I could’ve wet my pants, I could’ve groped some elderly man on the way out, Bill could’ve jumped from the stage to save me from hitting that pole, hmm that actually would’ve been nice.

Oh well, let me here it. Have you fainted at an incredibly inconvenient time? Has a thirty-something year old tiger mom tried to feed your nineteen year old self apple sauce from a pouch? Do share.

xoxo,
-E