11 Ways to Survive the Holidays… Single

1. Avoid eye contact with all family members over the age of 45. I don’t know what it is about that age but it seems to trigger the pathetic look and all-to-often used question, “any boys in your life?” Just keep your eyes on the bacon. (No really… just look for the bacon on the food table… it’ll help!)

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2. Stay far away from picture-perfect backdrops. This will ensure that you do not run into an overly loving couple just waiting for a single sloth to come their way to snap their oh-so-perfect Instgram post. This includes the tree at Rockefeller Center, any parade, Company party, etc. #LoveFilter #BestFriend #Holidays #LoveHim #ManCrushEveryday

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3. Block all people that use any of the hashtags in #2.

4. Make up a perfect guy you are “seeing”. I’d aim for the astronaut or the doctor as they would have valid excuses for not making it to the family holiday party. If you are asked for a full name, date of birth, mother’s maiden name or social security number form either set of grand parents refer back to step #1.

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5. Remove that Michael Bolton Holiday CD (not that we have CDs anymore but it ads to the vision) and replace it with Beyonce’s Single Ladies. Duh. If you were dating someone you probably wouldn’t have enough time to learn the entire dance… remind yourself of that!

6. Remember that your barista loves you and will miss you over the Holidays.

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7. Convince yourself you are building an empire and working on your fitness. Now actually go to the gym and work on your fitness. Beach season is the new cuffing season.

8. Make a list of all the famous people in the world who are your age and are also single. Taylor Swift for instance… now her and I just need to be on the same page with selecting friends.

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9. Use words like “locked down” & “ball and chain” in place of “better half” or “love of my life.

10. Scroll through your Facebook profile. There is bound to be some bully from high school posting holiday photos with her 10 kids and three baby daddys. Remember… it could always be worseeeeeeee.

11. And if all else fails… Call your single girlfriends, find a fire place, add extra Baily’s whipped cream on your hot chocolate and put Love Actually on repeat… just know there will always be Tinder next year.

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3 Times You Almost Lost All Hope

1. When your mom leaves you in line at the grocery store to “grab something she forgot”… without a form of payment 

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I blame my mother for my extreme anxiety because of the torture she used to put me through at the grocery store. Let me set the scene… you are being the best daughter ever, neatly stacking the groceries on the conveyer built, trying to put them up there as quick as you can so you can get to the real fun… bagging, when all of a sudden your mom says “darn, I forgot the bread”. You don’t think anything of it at the time because you are trapped between your cart and the woman’s cart in front of you and the only thing you can think of is that you can now sneak a pack of gum on the belt while your mom is gallivanting in carbs. About 30 seconds into your gum-themed daydream the sound of a check being ripped out of a check book calls your attention as the woman in front of you has now completed her transaction and your groceries start to cross the threshold only to be stopped by the scanner for a brief second. You look up at the cashier in pure horror because your mother, the woman who is supposed to love you unconditionally has left you moneyless and hopeless for what seems to be hours to find bread which is clearly labeled to be molding in aisle 7. As you try to hide your panic you begin to calculate the amount of time you have left before you either start crying or jump the conveyer belt and sprint out of the store. You calculate that you only have about 45 seconds left and while standing on your tip toes peering over the US Weekly wall you realize the line behind you has gotten longer… this my friends is what I call the point of no return. You then start to convince yourself “she wouldn’t really leave me like this, right? she wouldn’t leave me to fend for myself? She has to be coming back.” And as the cashier gets to the very last items and searches the apple for a 4-digit number on the sticker you hear a familiar voice that resembles that of the devil becoming an angel… your mom. For all that is holy she is back, she found the god damn bread and she hands over her credit card like it’s no big thing and you wipe your brow, take your first breath and casually slip the packet of gum into your back pocket. For all the distress she has caused you, you deserve that gum.

2. When you send a text to the wrong person

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I believe in karma for one reason and one reason only; when I am talking shit about someone via text I absolutely, no question about it, send that shit-talking text to the person I am shit talking. I don’t know what it is about my brain that wants me to torture myself but I guess I deserve it and I guess it’s my own personal way of trying to teach myself a lesson. My sophomore year of college I received a text from this man, let’s call him Brett, asking me if I wanted to grab lunch with him. Not a big deal but I wasn’t feeling it because in college I’m 99.9% sure I was scared shitless of dating. So I did what any normal 20 year old would do and I texted my girlfriend, let’s call her Jen, the following text message…

Jen! That kid just asked me to lunch and in no way am I going to suffer through that for an hour. Give me an excuse of why I can’t make it… stomach bug? death in the family?….

Send.

And as close to being at the top of the largest drop in roller coaster history my stomach beat my mind in realizing what I had just done. The moral of the story is that Brett and I never went to lunch… shocker… but he did call me and text me to remind me of ho much of an immature bitch I was, a reminder that I very clearly did not need. That was the second time I lost all hope.

3. When your only prospect is taken from you…

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Dating in 2014… Sux #NoButReally

Let me preface this by saying that any mention of online dating sites, apps, paid services, heavy day dreaming, psychiatric help, etc., that will be mentioned in this post was ONLY done for SCIENTIFIC research and in no way is how I spend my nights and weekends.

Now that that is out of the way let’s get serious here for a second. Dating in 2014 sucks… it sucks a lot. We live in an overly visual world where if we don’t have 17 billion ice cream flavor options we think we are getting the short end of the stick and just move on to the next parlor without having a single taste. My neck literally hurts from keeping it on a swivel during a one-hour brunch just waiting and watching for some eye candy to approach, make eye contact and then kiss his girlfriend (or boyfriend) waiting for them on the corner. But it’s not the looking that is the issue, we all are Wilson (tool time reference), peering over the fence every chance we get. We are always looking for better, or wondering what else is out there, and never ever ever being satisfied because when the options are endless the looking becomes endless. The problem comes down to how we communicate… or in 2014 how we don’t. #getit?

Side thought: I think I would be better off living in a village with five total males. I could just line them up, have a quick chat and make my decision. And don’t roll your eyes, I am well aware that there might be .02% chance that the #1 on my list decides to go with the slutty butter churner down the way… but it’s my fantasy so unroll those eyes. 

So let’s make our way back to a city of more than five guys for a second and figure out what the issue is because it definitely (italicized for dramatic effect) is not me.

Aziz Ansari hit the nail (the single) on the head (finger with no ring) when he stated that “you are a secretary for this really shotty organization, scheduling the dumbest shit with the flakiest people ever.”

Thanks to social media, “read” features on texts, geotags and those three dots that make up 90% of this country’s anxiety and high blood pressure —> Image we are always connected which for some “i’m not crazy” reason makes us expect that people should ALWAYS be connecting with us. Just because I have three phones that balance between two carpal tunneled hands does not mean I want a guy who I can share my muscle relaxing medication with. Actually, I want the opposite. Case-in-point: Another Problem.

We want a nice, calm, friendly guy who looks like Tom Brady, is built like Zac Efron (just taller), acts like Ryan Gosling who is scripted by Nicholas Sparks. He is busy saving the world, caring for puppies and cooking amazing dinners all while running his very own company and we expect this man to be texting us non stop, calling us when they hear a song that reminds them of us and checking in just to say “hi”.

That’s not how it works and now we know it. Instead of the poetic texts that equal out to a perfect 1:1 ratio we get super encrypted messages that may or may not elude to the fact that there is a chance the person, who calls you babe, is free to grab a drink or something, winky face. And then… radio silence only to broken on the VERY DAY you stop thinking about them.

We throw on our decoder hat, call upon our squad (the girls and a few guy friends) and start to get to work on if this guy, who (in case you forgot) calls you babe, is also calling the entire female population that and just waiting on the best plans to make his decision or is madly in love and is just too busy curing cancer.

For clarification sake it has only been the latter one time…

And after much deliberation (stalking)  you decide that yes, it is true that there are plenty of fish in the sea but you know what? Fish are slimy and don’t have thumbs to text anyway.

In an effort not to release a novel in the body of a single blog I will list this out for you (for myself). After intensive scientific research, countless dollars to memberships on the world wide web, and interviews with fellow single ladies I have come to the following conclusions…

In 2014…

… you can sleep with someone every week for an entire year and not be “dating” someone

… a swipe left or a swipe right is as much time as you have to make an impression

… a screen shot can make your heart drop about as fast as when your parents found you smoking pot in the back yard at 15

… you can be called babe and have a face with hearts as eyes on one incoming text and an hour later get called the “Sarah” when your name is in fact (you double checked…twice) nothing close to Sarah

… you can have someone like and comment on all of your Instagram selfies, and NEVER ask for your number

… you can say wake up to a text at 2am that says “Wats up” from someone you haven’t spoken to in a year and answer back “just working, you?” to never hear from them again

… you can pay for dinner because you are a girl and you want equality and paying for dinner shows that

… you can find out someones first and last name that you saw at a bar because he was wearing a Duke sweatshirt, had an official Duke baseball hat and looks about 27 years old

… friends don’t set other friends up

… “I went into your Facebook and saw you messaging that girl” sounds innocent but in fact should be the equivalent of opening someone else’s mail.

Feel free to throw me some more bullets to add in the comments and I will pretend to believe you when you say “this happened to a friend of mine, this isn’t about me”. We are all rocking the same single’s cruise, tallying who texts first and keeping track of that white to green text-bar ratio so when someone calls you “crazy” just take your pills and walk away because this shit is about as stable as Jennifer Lawrence in heels, as confusing as the Raiders doing well during the draft and as frustrating as explaining how to use gchat to your grandparents.

Cupid’s speed.

B