Whoreoween

When did Halloween become Whoreoween? I swear, Halloween is now just an excuse for girls to dress (and act) slutty. (Not that the single guys probably mind all that much.)

Me? Not so much. My rules for Halloween are simple:

• I can't be uncomfortable. (One year, The Murse and I went to a party as the Unibomber and The Bomb. I was The Bomb, natch. Which meant I wore a giant cardboard box around all nite and couldn't lift my arms to drink my beer. And I needed help every time I went to the bathroom. Sidenote: my bladder is the size of a ping pong ball. That's when this rule was enacted.)
• I can't look like a whore. (Unless, of course, I'm dressed as a whore. But then how would I look any different from my everyday wardrobe? Jaaaaaaay kaaaaaay.)
• I can't look like an asshole. (Same ex-boyfriend, different costume: one year, The Murse and I went as the couple who had the Halloween party we went to every year. Except he was the wife and I was the husband. I wore Carhartt from head to toe and a drawn-on goatee. I looked like a reject from Extreme Makeover: Lesbian Home Edition and immediately swore -- after seeing pictures -- that I would never go out for Halloween again looking like an asshole.)

Since then, I haven't really had many opportunities to do a couple's costume with a significant other because, well... I haven't really been dating someone at Halloween. And it looks like this year won't be much different, as the boy toy will be working when I will be partying. Sad face.

(However, I am pretty juiced about my costume idea. And, no. I'm not divulging.)

Do you have a favorite couples' costume that you've worn (or seen) over the years? (One of my personal faves is when my sis and her now-hubs went as Cameltoe: he was the camel, she was the toe.)

And what's your take on this whole Whoreoween phenomenon?

Love in the air

I work in downtown Cleveland, which means one thing this time of year: AIRSHOW. I sweartogod, those planes fly like two centimeters in between office buildings during their practice runs in the week leading up to the actual airshow.

And you know who flies those planes?

Pilots. Hot ones.

You see, every year at airshow time, I'm reminded of the streak of pilots I met back in my mid-20s. Some were commercial pilots. Some were military pilots. Some were private pilots. ALL were cute. But in the span of one Spring/Summer (when The Murse and I had briefly broken up), I think I met/talked to three or four different pilots over the course of a few months.

And my favorite one was probably the one I met at an airshow. Picture it: my friends and I were at Shooter's (back when I was still dumb enough to attempt going there during Labor Day weekend) and saw a few airshow pilots walk in wearing their full airshow regalia (jumpsuits, hats, sunglasses, boots... think Top Gun).

We chatted them up for the nite, tried on their gear (no -- legitimately tried on their hats and stuff... that was not a euphemism for something else, pervs) and fell head over heels in love. (OK, maybe that was just me.)

And I actually kept in touch with my Airshow Guy for several months after we met. We talked on the phone and emailed pretty regularly. (This was pre-texting and Facebook days, peeps. Aaaah, when life was easier.) I think he even sent me a card or two. But it obviously never went anywhere. (And he's now living in the south with his wife and two kids. Which I learned after he Facebook friended me a couple of years ago.)

But you know what? I still think about that mother effer every year now when the airshow comes to town.

And then I think of the streak of all the other pilots who made their appearance that same summer. The summer when love was in the air.

(For the record, I've also had this same thing happen with certain names. Remember this?)

Have you ever had a specific profession that just seemed to be your "type" for a while? What was it?

P.S. Happy Labor Day, loves! (And if you make it to the airshow, tell the boys I said hi.) ;)

Crazy in love

Aaaah, the things we do for love. I started thinking about the crazy things we do for love (both romantic and platonic) as I'm getting ready to head to West 6th this weekend for (you guessed it!) another friend's bachelorette party.

As you may know, I would rather naked swan dive off the Terminal Tower than go out with all the Jersey Shore-esque douchebags on West 6th Street. It's just not my scene anymore. But I obviously want to help my friend celebrate her final fling before the ring, and she wants to go dancing. So I will be there in full bachelorette party regalia (and pumped full of gin) for the evening's festivities.

But that got me thinking... what other crazy things have I done over the years against my better judgment, all in the name of love? Well, there was:

• The time I took The Murse to the rodeo for Valentine's Day and actually paid enough attention to semi-know what was going on (I'm fairly certain I was the only person there not wearing Wranglers and a plaid shirt)
• The time I helped The Divorcee pull weeds in his yard for approximately eight hours on a hot, humid Saturday whilst being eaten alive by some sort of crazy marsh bugs (though he did at least thank me with a gift certificate for a mani afterward)
• The times I went out in public with The Mush Mouth while he was wearing the following outfit (which was actually more like his uniform): inside-out white sweatshirt, baggy jeans, braided belt, chunky brown cop shoes, glow-in-the-dark faux Starter jacket (in his defense, he was color blind -- so I don't think he knew how bright that effing red jacket really was... but that doesn't forgive the fact that it wasn't even a real Starter jacket)
  

And, of course, there were the numerous times I folded a BF's laundry or picked up dinner or let his dogs out (even though they weighed more than me). But when you're in the moment, it all seems totally normal, doesn't it?

What crazy things have you done for love?

P.S. If you see a gaggle of girls on West 6th this weekend and it looks like they're looking for missing a group member, it's probably me. At least now you know where to tell them to find me.

On to the next one

A few weeks ago, it was my birthday. I tell you this not to have you send me presents (though I certainly won't refuse them). I tell you this because anyone who's been reading the blog for some time knows what my birthday means: the obligatory annual email from The Murse.

Well, my birthday came and went. No email. So I thought that maybe -- just maybe! -- he finally realized that it was time to just let things live in the past.

(Sidenote: Don't get me wrong. I'm all about being civil with exes. But after you date someone for 6+ years -- during the prime (and skinny) years of your dating life!! -- you sort of have a bad taste in your mouth.)

Anyhow, no such luck. He was just a couple of days late with his greeting.

(Sort of like he was late with everything else. Including realizing that he effed up the best relationship he had ever had.)

It was a cordial email, telling me that he moved YET AGAIN to a new city (he has a track record of moving after break-ups) and got a new job, asking about my family, yadda yadda yadda.

But you know what? This was the first year that I didn't feel even the slightest ping of "what could have been?" after reading it.

Guess the fourth time's the charm.

As Jay-Z would say... ON TO THE NEXT ONE!

P.S. is anyone else as OBSESSED with that song as I am?!?

Why Being Single at the Holidays Doesn’t Totally Suck

• There's no pressure to find that perfect gift for my special someone. In the past, I would spend weeks (sometimes months) searching for juuuuuust the right present for my BF, only to be disappointed with an effing gift card for a day spa or -- even worse -- the free wallet that came with the purse that he bought for his mother. (Actually happened.)


• There's no need to worry about those extra lbs. I've already packed on from all the holiday goodies around my office, since my cats and relatives don't mind if I'm a little doughy right now (but a BF probably would).


• I don't have to hear, "Sooooooo... do you think you'll be getting a little box under the tree this year?" from EVERY. SINGLE. PERSON. I. KNOW.


• There's no obligation to bust out horrific memories of holidays past. One year for Christmas, I got an effing Precious Moments necklace from The Mush Mouth. I lovingly referred to it as "The Medallion." It was a sterling silver heart -- yes, HEART -- with two little Precious Moments figures facing each other inside of it. It was literally the size of a hood ornament. And it was heinous. (In this case, I would have welcomed a gift card.) I felt obligated to pull it out each Christmas (though I never actually wore it), but after we broke up, I used to take it out with me to the bar and use it on my beer bottles like one of those little wine charms. Except it wasn't so little.


• I can decide where I want to go, and when. I don't have to split holidays between families, or traipse around all over Northeast Ohio without sitting down in one place for more than a couple of hours. Which means I can plant my (now pleasantly plump) ass down at my parents' house and get hammered. I mean, "holiday toasty."


• There's also no pressure to buy thoughtful presents for the BF's family. I mean, I don't think I could have found another bird broach for The Murse's grandma if I tried. I must have bought out the entire stock at Macy's every year.


• And let's not talk about the pressure to fake liking the presents that you got from his family. I mean, who doesn't need a holiday sweatshirt -- complete with puffy paint -- to round out her wardrobe? (I wish I were kidding. Actual Christmas present. Though still not as bad as the free wallet.)


• If you're only kinda sorta and/or newly dating someone (and not in a long-term relationship), there's also no pressure to have that awkward, "Are we exchanging gifts?" or "What's our spending limit?" conversation. Ugh. Those are so awwwww-kward!


• I don't have to stress about how/if he fits into my family's gatherings. Let's be honest: blogfamily can be a bit overwhelming at times. Between blogdad telling dirty jokes, blogmom having minor meltdowns if something goes wrong in the kitchen, fights with sissies over board games and Brissy yelling, "Merry Jizzmas!!" every two seconds, it takes a special kinda guy to feel comfortable around the AAB clan.

Now don't get me wrong. There are down sides to being single too, which I'll explore in a future post. (I'm sure I'll want to hang myself after I write that one.)

But for now... what are your favorite reasons to be single at the holidays?

P.S. Thanks to all of you who suggested names for this month's dating adventures. (You sick bastards, you.) Please be sure to vote for your fave in the poll on the top left of the page!

This makes perfect sense(s)

I was driving home from work the other nite and the song Pony by Ginuwine came on. Stop laughing. What's funny is not that I was listening to a station that would actually play that song. (OK, it's sorta funny.)

What's really funny is that the song actually reminds me of and ex-BF: The Mush Mouth. (It was the first song we ever danced to once we decided we liked each other. Stop judging. We were at a college bar and we were both drunk.)

So then I started thinking about this little gem: Pretty much every one of my five senses reminds me of an ex- in some way or another. Behold:

• Hearing -- see above (and, seriously, stop effing laughing that that song reminds me of a romantic liaison)


• Smell -- every time I smell Emporio Armani cologne, I think of The Murse. He wore it for years and, in fact, his mom even bought us the his/hers version one year for Christmas. It's really sort of a bummer, since I actually really like how this stuff smells. But the memory of him that comes along with it just makes it a real stinker in my book.


• Taste -- I can't eat dumplings without thinking of The Murse either. Actually, without thinking of his mom. Because it was the meal she made for us every year (for six years, remember!) on New Year's Day. She friggin' loved that meal (as did I, after I tried it the first year). Lucky for me, pork and dumplings is not really a regular feature in the AAB diet. However, even seeing them on a menu somewhere reminds me of her (and, then, him).


• Sight -- whenever I see a picture of either Leonardo DiCaprio or Eric Dane, I think of The Divorcee. He was like a real-life version of the two of them if... you know... two men could mate and create an offspring. I can't help but think of him every time I see one of those two in the gossip rags or on E! with my (possibly gay and definitely pretend) BF, Ryan Seacrest.


• Touch -- I can't really think of anything good for this one. (At least, nothing that blogdad could read.)

(Jaaaaaaaaay Kaaaaaaaaay, blogdad. I've never touched a boy in my life. Pinky swear.)

So what about you? Which of your senses triggers thoughts of an ex-?

P.S. Happy birthday, sissy! Hope you have a great day!

S.O.S.: Take 4... coming to a blog near you

First, let me define S.O.S. for you: Summer of Sin.

S.O.S. started several summers ago when I was single and finally ready to start dating. I had mentally moved on from The Murse and was ready to start rocking the dating scene again. About three weeks after I announced the kick off to S.O.S., I met The Divorcee and we immediately started dating.

S.O.S. (the inaugural) was a FAIL.

(Not that I meant S.O.S. to be a huge whorefest. I just wanted to date a lot of different people after being with the same person for longer than most Hollywood marriages last.)

Since that summer, I've dubbed every subsequent hot weather season Summer of Sin. And I just realized today when looking at my calendar that I'm quickly approaching Summer of Sin: Take 4.

(As background for you, S.O.S.: Take 1 was spent with The Divorcee. S.O.S.: Take 2 was spent with The Mouse. S.O.S.: Take 3 was spent with... well, a bunch of losers. And it was actually the reason I started this blog!!)

So, I've gotta tell ya. The idea behind S.O.S. was very fun in theory. But now that I've lived through "spoiled" S.O.S.s (where I ended up dating/hanging out with one person for the entire summer) and a "legit" S.O.S. (where I ended up being single and attempting to date), I really prefer the "spoiled" version of S.O.S. (Like, a lot more.)

There's just something about summer that makes it more fun to have a BF. Someone to know you're going to hang out with on the warm-weather weekends. Someone to grab a weeknite beer on a patio with. Someone to chow a hot dog (and a hot pretzel!) at the ballpark with. Someone to do anything fun with.

But... since summer is upon us and I have virtually no prospects on the dating horizon, I guess I'll say what I always say at this time of year: "Summer of Sin... let it begin!"

Who's with me?

Thinking of me on your birthday*

*props to someecards for that phrase - hilarious!

I've written here before about how the only real contact The Murse and I have anymore is our obligatory birthday emails to each other.

This year's birthday email from him was especially bizarre to me. But when I received that pouring-out-his-heart letter from him a few months later, I realized why.

So, today is The Murse's birthday. And prior to getting that letter from him, I really had planned to just ignore it and let things naturally move on from there.

But since I never responded to the letter, I figured I would kill two birds with one stone today. So I wrote him a very nice, funny birthday email.

Told him how my one sissy's hubs is obsessed with finding "letters to the editor" in the newspaper written by his dad. (Seriously. The man has a letter in the Plain Dealer at least once a month.)

How my other sissy and her hubs are expecting a baby.

How I've got another summer of wedding fun lined up, and I'm very much looking forward to celebrating with our friends Michele/Eric and Jenn/Brian. (I got the friends in the break-up.)

And then, I acknowledged the letter.

I thanked him for what he said in it, then basically told him that I was sorry that I didn't really have a deep or profound response to it. Mostly because I had promised myself a long time ago that I couldn’t invest any more time into thinking about “what could have been” with us.

I thought that was the nicest way to let him know that I appreciated the gesture, but that it was still too little, too late.

I have a feeling I may not be getting that obligatory birthday email from him next year.

The "ex" factor

MOTHER EFFING HOLY HELL.

(I realize that this is likely sacrilegious to say on Good Friday, but I think you'll agree this post warrants it. In fact, I almost didn't even write this post because it's so crazy to me. But since I've opened up to you guys so much about my love life for the past seven or so months, it felt sort of right to share it with you here.)

When I got home last nite, I grabbed my mail on the way into the condo. In addition to an invitation to a wedding shower (my second in as many weeks -- Always a Bridesmaid lives on!), there "it" was. A letter. From The Murse.

(For those of you who don't remember, The Murse is the guy I thought I would marry. We dated for 6+ years and broke up about 3 years ago. Since then, we've seen each other a handful of times, and pretty much only talk when we exchange obligatory "happy birthday" emails.)

I actually thought about publishing the letter verbatim, but then I decided it was a little too personal to do that. Anyone who knows me well knows that I have never really opened up about my relationships, and publishing The Murse's thoughts word for word just didn't feel right.

(Which probably seems weird to you, as a reader of a blog about my dating life. But if you don't know me, you probably don't realize what a huge step it was for me to even start this thing. But trust me. This blog's contents are very out of character for the real-life Always a Bridesmaid.)

Anyhow, back to the point. The letter from the ex. WHOA.

It was two pages, handwritten on lined paper and meticulously thought out. And it was apparent to me that the feelings The Murse expressed in that letter had been running through his head for some time now.

Essentially, he told me that he made a huge mistake when he couldn't commit to me three years ago. That working in the hospital has made him realize that people don't always get to say what they want to say, and he didn't want to be one of them. That he still thinks about me all the time. That I will always be the one who got away.

I really don't know what to think. On one hand, I am sad to know that my life right now could be so very different had things gone differently three years ago, and would probably include a husband and a family and a white picket fence. (In the letter, The Murse said that he wished we had had a family.) A life where I wouldn't be alone on a holiday like I will be this weekend.

On the other, I've forced myself to be over this relationship for so long now that I don't really think I could ever go back. (And, truth be told, my friends and family are so angry with The Murse now that it would be nearly impossible to go back, even if I thought I wanted to do it. I could never date someone who my friends and family didn't like.) And who's to say that I would have been happy with a guy who was so indecisive to begin with?

So, there you have it. I don't have any particularly enlightening things to say about this whole situation beyond, "Holy shit." (Thank goodness I didn't give up swearing for Lent like I did last year.)

That said, I'm hopeful that maybe the Easter Bunny will bring me something really, really awesome in my basket this year. Like a guy who adores me and realizes it when he's got me next to him. Not three years too late. (And if that's too much to ask, Mr. E. Bunny, I'll take a couple of tins of Pringles.)

Those darn Golden Girls had it right all along

For those of you who read this blog fairly regularly, you are well aware of my dating sitch right now. Or lack thereof.

Lucky for me, I have some amazing friends and family to keep me smiling throughout this dating drought. They are the Hall to my Oates. The gin to my juice. The peanut butter to my... well, see for yourself:

CASE IN POINT #1

I arrived home this week to find a bouquet of flowers sitting outside of my condo door. My mind immediately rushed to thinking they were belated birthday flowers, most likely from The Murse. (Which immediately made my stomach turn.) They were, indeed, birthday flowers. But they were from my very dear friend Ali and the card attached, it said, thank you for bein' a friend. (Did you read that sung to the theme song of The Golden Girls?) Truth be told, Ali and I used to spoon on my Mickey Mouse comforter in college while eating Pringles and watching the good ol' GGs. No wonder I looked like a house by the end of freshman year.

CASE IN POINT #2

I got an email today from my sissy's friend (who has now become my friend too) asking if I wanted to join her and another friend for a Valentine's Day dinner in Tremont. Umm... YES, PLEASE! I love fine dining and haven't had a lot of opportunities to go out without... well... a date to go with. So I am very much looking forward to my Valentine's Day threesome now. Wait, that sounded wrong...

CASE IN POINT #3

My sissies are amazingly funny and I love spending time with them. (Nowadays, that is. We hated each other when we were younger.) We just made plans to go see He's Just Not That into You this weekend (which I am super excited for), then grab din-din at a fine establishment at Crocker Park. (Too bad MAC doesn't serve food.) In addition to being fun to hang out with, my sissies just generally make me laugh on a daily basis. Take, for instance, the email I just received from my middle sissy: I officially have the best haircut ever and you should go to my girl. I am wearing my hair curly today and I look like a movie star. I mean, I seriously look like I could be one of those moms in a JIF commercial, or maybe even Swiffer Duster or Totino's Pizza Rolls. It's awesome!!!

(I especially enjoyed how sissy said she looked like a movie star, then cast herself in a series of commercials.)

So, ladies... consider this a charge: do something nice for one (or more) of your girlfriends today. Send a little cookie basket. (Though that would be mean if your friend is on a diet.) Drop her a little note telling her something awesome about herself. Take her for a manicure. Give her a coupon for one of those fat-melting wraps. (Tread carefully with that one.)

And remember to tell her... thank you for bein' a friend.

No wonder I suck just as bad at love as I do at math

After several people alerted me to the online Love Calculator (thanks, Alexa and blogmom!), I decided to take it for a spin and see what would happen. Lord knows I can use any guidance I can get at this point.

For those of you who aren't familiar with the Love Calculator, it's an online tool to help you determine whether your relationship has potential based on the names of the people in the relationship. Like Sonny + Cher. Or Brad + Angelina. Or Bert + Ernie. (I still contend those puppets were more than roommates, if you know what I mean.)

Anyhow, being the sucker that I am for anything that might possibly give me direction in the love department, I obviously tried it out. Here's the fun part. I used both *real* names (self-explanatory), as well as *blog* names (e.g., Always a Bridesmaid + The Murse), to see what would happen.

Let's take a gander at how the calculations worked out for what I would consider my three "real" boyfriends.

THE MUSH MOUTH

Real names: 99%. Dr. Love thinks that a relationship between [immature boy] and [amazing girl] has a very good chance of being successful, but this doesn't mean that you don't have to work on the relationship. Remember that every relationship needs spending time together, talking with each other etc.

Blog names: 71%. Dr. Love thinks that a relationship between The Mush Mouth and Always a Bridesmaid has a reasonable chance of working out, but on the other hand, it might not. Your relationship may suffer good and bad times. If things might not be working out as you would like them to, do not hesitate to talk about it with the person involved. Spend time together, talk with each other.

Really, Dr. Love? I find it amusing that both of these predictions involve talking to each other, considering the kid has the blog name The Mush Mouth because he mumbled and swallowed every word he ever said. And I would have expected a much better prediction for a 99% love match.

THE MURSE

Real names: 55%. Dr. Love thinks that a relationship between [noncommittal guy who may or may not have been gay] and [too good for him anyway girl] has a reasonable chance of working out, but on the other hand, it might not. Your relationship may suffer good and bad times. If things might not be working out as you would like them to, do not hesitate to talk about it with the person involved. Spend time together, talk with each other.

Blog names: 53%. Dr. Love thinks that a relationship between The Murse and Always a Bridesmaid has a reasonable chance of working out, but on the other hand, it might not. Your relationship may suffer good and bad times. If things might not be working out as you would like them to, do not hesitate to talk about it with the person involved. Spend time together, talk with each other.

WTF, Dr. Love? Do you only have like three different predictions to spew out of that love-predicto-meter of yours? Same one three times in a row? At least you're consistent on this one, though.

THE DIVORCEE

Real names: 64%. Dr. Love thinks that a relationship between [guy who wasn't ready for a relationship] and [girl with bad timing] has a reasonable chance of working out, but on the other hand, it might not. Your relationship may suffer good and bad times. If things might not be working out as you would like them to, do not hesitate to talk about it with the person involved. Spend time together, talk with each other.

Blog names: 75%. Dr. Love thinks that a relationship between The Divorcee and Always a Bridesmaid has a very good chance of being successful, but this doesn't mean that you don't have to work on the relationship. Remember that every relationship needs spending time together, talking with each other etc.

Ummm... the same two predictions AGAIN?!?! I give up. And think I might have to change my name in order to get better love prospects.

Did you try out the Love Calculator with your hubs, BF or crush? What was your score? And did you get any predictions other than the ones that kept popping up for me?

Man Monday (courtesy of The Murse... even tho he doesn't know it)

[Imagine a witty Man Monday post from TMGB here. Because it's 5pm on Monday and I still don't have one. Just like a man to not make good on a timeline. Though at least he's not about five years late like The Murse was.]

Speaking of The Murse... as you may recall, he and I dated for six years and broke up about three years ago. Since then, we have seen each other a couple of times (most recently at a wedding over the summer, where we chatted for a few minutes during a gin-fueled conversation that I can not recall). Each year, we also send the obligatory birthday email greetings to each other.

This year was no different.

SUBJECT:
January 29th

CONTENT:
Always a Bridesmaid,

I wanted to wish you happy birthday - I hope things are going well at work, home and with the family.

The Murse

While I appreciate the gesture... why even bother? I mean, at least prior years' messages had a little something more to them. The most I got out of this one was that he knew what the date was.

Am I just being mean? I know that it's very nice that he even thought to wish me a happy birthday. It just seems a little... well... forced.

And this is TOTES not my style (e.g., last year I cracked on him for being officially closer to 40 than 30... you know, a little humor to an otherwise completely awkward email). So do I reply (in May) with a just-as-lame email to him, or should I just let these silly birthday greetings fade away? Or should I just be myself and send a sarcastic bday greeting? Something like this:


I'm torn. (And also a little creeped out by how much this card looks like The Murse.)

I see London, I see France...

... man, I need new underpants.

OK, so I have a weird post-breakup ritual that I always go through: I give my undie drawer a makeover.

I did a major purge/splurge after I broke up with The Mush Mouth. (A 2+ year relationship.)

I did the same thing after The Murse. (A 6+ year relationship.)

And again (albeit on a smaller scale) after The Divorcee. (An on/off fling for about 10 months or so. Hence the smaller shopping spree.)

Honestly, I have no idea why I do it. Maybe it's because it's a little something I can do as a pick-me-up that only I know about. (Well, until I blabbed it to all of you guys, that is.)

And doesn't everyone feel better about themselves when they're wearing cute undies versus raggedy old torn ones? (Don't get me wrong. It's not like I'm buying sexy satin thongs or crotchless lace g-strings. Nope, I'm pretty much a boy shorts and cotton bikinis kind of girl.)

My point is this: I realized today (after noticing the ripped trim on one of my fave pairs) that it has been so long since I've had a major break-up that I really just need to go buy some new undies. Without the requisite heartbreak that goes along with it.

Lucky for me, my birthday is coming up. So I at least have a birthday coupon from Victoria's Secret to get me started.

How about you? What rituals do you have after a breakup?

I got tagged over the holidays

Again, not in that way, you sickos. I got a blog award "tag" from my fellow blogger over at Medicated and Motivated. (Go check out her blog. In addition to her fun content, I am totally jeals of her site design. So fun.)

Anywhoooo... here are the rules:

• List 10 honest things about yourself


• Pass the award onto 7 blogs that you find brilliant in content or design


• Link to the blogger who gave you this prize


• Link to the blogs receiving the prize


• Notify the recipient

Being an Aquarius, I'm not a rules follower. (And, really, I just can't pick 7 of my favorite blogs.) So, I'm going to fudge the rules a bit and ask that anyone who reads this blog (especially if you know I read yours too!) take this award and do with it what you may. Because it's the New Year and I'm all about putting out. (Awards, that is.)

But I will oblige and list 10 honest things about myself. Here goes nothing:

1. I can -- and have -- eaten an entire tin of Pringles in one sitting. I love Pringles. Almost as much as I love corn dogs.


2. I secretly wish I had never started coloring/highlighting my hair back in the day. But I've now been coloring (and straightening!) it for so long, I don't think I could go back. But any time someone tells me they're thinking about coloring their hair, I shriek, "Don't do it!"


3. I hate feet. Anyone who knows me is well aware of this fact. Lucky for me, living in Cleveland means very few months of sandals/flip flops. And mandals.


4. I put more cream and sweetener in my coffee than is humanly acceptable. But I don't care.


5. I have absolutely no sense of direction. Thankfully, I have a GPS in my car. I use it to get everywhere. And by everywhere, I mean I have been known to use it to get to my parents' house when I'm coming from anywhere other than my house.


6. My license still says I weigh 110 pounds. That's what I weighed when I GOT my license almost 17 years ago. I haven't decided yet whether I'm going to up the poundage when I get it renewed later this month.


7. I scored a 30 on my ACT. I was the salutatorian of my high school class. I was on the dean's list in college. What I'm saying is... I'm no dummy. Unless, of course, you want me to play a hand of cards with you. Because I just can not figure out card games.


8. I bought myself a Louis Vuitton on what would have been my seven-year anniversary with The Murse (almost three years ago now).


9. I am obsessed with the show The Biggest Loser. And I can't wait for the new season to start again on Tuesday.


10. I am infinitely grateful for the friends, family, colleagues and fellow bloggers in my life. And for the yet-to-be-named (and hopefully soon-to-be-named) Mr. Always a Bridesmaid.

Wow, that's a lot of useless information.

Anything else you want to know?

(Thanks again to Medicated and Motivated for the award! See? Even though I didn't list my 7 favorite blogs, I did link to Medicated's site TWICE. So I think it's even, no?)

I think I've dated some of these guys before...

... or, at least, Cleveland versions of them.

I mean, it's one thing to be close with your mom. (I actually quite enjoy when a guy has a good relationship with dear ol' mom.) But the guys (and moms!) on this new show from Ryan Seacrest are just completely ridic.

Don't get me wrong. I have dated some mama's boys myself. But the mothers on this show (especially the one who said her son could only date "a white girl") are completely and utterly insane. No. Effing. Way. would I ever in a million years date a guy whose mom is that controlling.

The Mush Mouth thought his mother could do no wrong, even though I swear she used to give me the evil eye every time he wasn't looking. (OK, maybe that's an exaggeration. But she DID tell him to buy me a giant Precious Moments necklace one year for Christmas, which I actually think was way worse than if she had actually given me the evil eye. Seriously. It was the size of a hood ornament. And heart shaped. And did I mention it featured Precious Moments?!?)

And I did absolutely love The Murse's mom (as in, she sent me a Christmas card six months after we broke up telling me that she always thought of me as a daughter and couldn't understand what was wrong with her son). What was wrong with her son was that she babied him so much over his lifetime that he couldn't make any decisions for himself as an adult (including whether to "get off the pot" after 6+ years of dating).

Anyhow, I can't believe I wasted an hour watching this effing "Momma's Boy" show. (In my defense, it was on after The Biggest Loser and I was just too lazy to change the channel. Which is a really ironic sentence when you think about it.) There goes 60 minutes of my life that I'll never get back.

Sort of like those 6 years I spent with The Murse.

Single for Santa

My friend Amy forwarded me this list of 5 Great Reasons to be Single During the Holidays. (I don't know who the source is, but I'd swear I wrote this list myself anyhow.)

I realized last nite while finalizing my Christmas shopping list that it's actually quite nice to not have to buy gifts for a "special someone" this year. I've always prided myself on getting the *perfect* gift for my boy toy, and am always disappointed when I get the proverbial gift certificate. Or, even worse, when I have to specifically spell out what I want. Ugh. That's no fun for anyone.

The Murse was the king of last-minute shopping, which always made me feel like an afterthought. Especially after I would spend weeks finding just the right gifts for him. (Truth be told, the last-minute thing wasn't all that bad. He always felt guilty about going at the last minute, so he ended up spending way too much on me. I'm pretty sure Kate Spade and Banana Republic were always thankful for that.)

So to all my single readers... enjoy!

5 Great Reasons to be Single During the Holidays

Don't let your relationship status play a factor in your holiday cheer. It's still the most wonderful time of the year--especially if you're single!

Sure, spending another gift-giving season alone can be lonely, but if you adjust your view, it can also be the greatest time of the year. No quarrels, no guilt trips—you have the freedom to do whatever you want, whenever you want and with whomever you want. If you need to be reminded about just how amazing the holidays can be when you’re solo, read on for our five top reasons why it’s great to be single this season.

Reason #1: You can Spend Time with your own Family and Friends

It’s the age-old holiday conundrum and controversial issue: which family should a couple spend the holiday with? Lucky for you, being single means you aren’t obligated to go somewhere you don’t want or have to split time or compromise between your partners family and your own.

There are no expectations to spend the morning sipping cocoa and opening presents with your in-laws just because they live closer than your own family or because it’s their ‘turn’ this year. Take ownership of the holiday and make plans with your own friends and relatives. You’re already trying to please your own family; being single you won’t have to please a partner’s as well.

Reason #2: You can Put yourself at the Top of your List

This year, your holiday debt and anxiety will be at an all time low because there’s no need to find the perfect gift for your significant other and his or her immediate family. With no struggle over what to buy, spend a fraction of the money on a gift you’ve been eyeing for yourself or donate the funds to the charity of your choice.

Reason #3: You can Create new Traditions for Yourself

Don’t be a creature of habit. Give yourself permission to enjoy the holiday in whichever way you envision. Have you secretly always wanted to create the most over-the-top Christmas light-adorned spectacle of your home or set up a fabulous girly tree complete with all the pink trimmings? (Sidenote: and if you are a man, you can put up a tree like the one featured on this post.) You now can, because being single you have the option to deck the halls—or not. Perhaps this year you’ll start a new tradition of going away with other single friends to an exotic beach locale or volunteering at festivities for your church, synagogue or community center.

Reason #4: You can be Fun, Flirty and Fabulous at all the Holiday Parties

Put on your best party dress or suit and revel in the holiday spirit. Without the stress of having to make sure your significant other is having fun think of all the time you’ll have to collect kisses under the mistletoe.

Reason #5: There’s No Undue Expectations

Expectations for the holidays are already unrealistic—single or not. It’s rare that everything will go smoothly but being solo does take part of the pressure off because you hold the power to create your own special day. The best part is that all the choices are in your hands. If you want to spend the evening sipping hot chocolate and watching a reality show marathon you can do it.

Your relationship status doesn’t have to determine your holiday cheer. Spend time this season reflecting on the past year and what you want out of life in the future.

***

Now don't get me wrong... I'm not gonna complain if Santa leaves a tall, dark and handsome present under my tree this year. I just hope he comes with a gift receipt.

The boomerang club

I've discovered a very interesting phenomenon in my life: boomerang boys.

While no one has ever been quite as bad as The Groundhog, there seems to be a trend of guys disappearing then reappearing at the weirdest/most random times.

I've had a few recent boomerang encounters:

• The Paramedic - I went on one date with this kid a year or two ago. He was SUPER young. As in, younger than my youngest sissy young. On the day of our date, he found out that he had just landed the new job he'd been going after, so he wanted to go "somewhere nice" (his words) to celebrate. We went to the Outback. Fast forward to a few days ago when he Facebook friended me (with a profile pic featuring his new GF), then sent me a message telling me that I still have "that million dollar smile and hair." I've heard of a million dollar smile, but million dollar hair? That must be SOME weave.


• The Mouse - This is the guy I "hung out with" (again, his words) last year. Totally same sense of humor as me (though he is much less animated and much more sarcastic). And un-be-liev-ab-ly cute. I mean, he has dimples. *melt* Anyhow, hadn't really talked to him much over the last several months, but he called a couple of weeks ago and has been emailing and texting (even sending jokey e-cards!) ever since. But, as I said in previous posts, I'm fairly certain this is on the "friend track."


• The Cop - I thought he had gotten the hint that the only time I'd ever see the back of his cop car was if I got arrested (and not for a makeout session), but I guess not. He's been FB messaging me to come meet him out at a bar, come to events he'll be at, etc. Weird.


• The Redhead - According to blogmom, this kid was my first-ever boyfriend. We went to grade school together until my family moved in third grade. I had not talked to him since then (what is that? 24 years?) until he Facebook friended me last week. While catching up via FB, I discovered yet another six degrees connection: he was fraternity brothers with The Murse back in college. (Seriously, people. That is just crazy. I've decided my life is more like two degrees of separation.)

And on top of these oldies (and questionable goodies), I've also heard from The Teacher, The Teachalian and The Italian Stallion in the past week.

Let's hope they don't all turn into boomerangers too.

ESP finds BF?

My aunt (who comments here as "blogaunt") has always claimed to have a weird 6th sense/ESP thing going on. We've seen it in action a few times over the years, but I honestly couldn't remember anything specific. Until today.

My sisters and I went over to visit blogaunt for her bday. While we were there, blogaunt brought out a bag of leftover Halloween candy.

My sister Jenna passed on the treats, but then said there is a candy bar she's been wanting to try. To which blogaunt replied, "Take 5?" And you know what? She was right.

Here's what's weird. Jenna IN NO WAY described what the candy bar was. She just said "candy bar." And, while delicious, a Take 5 bar isn't really what I would describe as a top 5 candy bar. It's like blogaunt was able to read her mind.

(Side note: blogaunt said this mind-reading thing has been happening a lot lately.)

All of us sort of freaked out a little bit when this happened. I mean, seriously. How do you just pull Take 5 out of your ass like that without some type of divine intervention?

But then I realized this may be just the secret weapon I need. Blogaunt can immediately tell me whether I'm wasting my time with a potential suitor! So, this post is officially putting her to work.

(We will forgive the time that, when early into our dating, she told me she thought The Murse and I would get married soon... we broke up SIX YEARS later because it didn't happen. But maybe her talents were still developing back then.)

I know blogaunt reads 27 Dresses in Cleveland pretty regularly, so I think I'm just gonna wait patiently for the "This is the one!" comment from her.

Til then... guess I'll just Take 5.

Ms. Always a Bridesmaid "& Guest"

Got the invitation to my friend Molly's wedding today (which is super sleek/modern/cool, BTW). As has been the case for the past year or so, I sort of dread opening wedding invitation envelopes, knowing that the "& Guest" part is going to give me agita (Italian-speak for heartburn).

Should I bring someone? A guy friend? Our gay family friend who is SUPER fun at weddings? (Seriously. He is like Jack on Will & Grace times 10.) Hire a guy to be my date like Debra Messing did in that one movie?

Luckily, I am in this wedding (I know -- huge shocker!), which makes not having a date a ton less awkward. Actually, come to think of it... of all the weddings I've been a bridesmaid in, I've only had a date (The Murse) for one. That's sort of weird. And sort of awesome.

Why? Being a single bridesmaid is actually pretty sweet:

1. You can cut straight to the front of the bar line and claim you're getting a drink for the bride and groom. Then keep them both yourself. (My drink of choice: gin & tonic.)


2. You have first dibs on any cute single guys in the wedding party. (Truth be told, I have taken advantage of this scenario once.)


3. Since you're sitting at the head table with a great view of the crowd, you can easily scope out the room for any "guys' tables" and locate hotties who are also there solo.


4. You can't get in a fight with your BF/husband because you don't have one. (Why do so many couples get in fights at weddings anyhow? I blame the jack and Cokes.)


5. You get to eat first.

That said... Molls, I know I haven't officially RSVP'd yet. But I'm going to take a wild guess and assume that I probably won't meet the future Mr. Always a Bridesmaid between now and November. So you can probably cross off the "& Guest" for me. And make sure the bar is stocked with gin. For you, of course.

Congrats, Michele!

So I found out yesterday that my very good friend Michele got engaged this weekend. YEAH!!! She's been dating her BF for three years and has been very patient waiting for him to pop the question.

Michele was actually the friend who introduced me to The Murse (and, yet, I'm still friends with her. HA!). Lucky for me, my relationship with her has fared better, and our friendship has continued to grow over the past 10 years.

Congrats, you guys! Can't wait to dive for the bouquet at your wedding! :)