TOM: Why’d you dance with me?
SUMMER: ‘Cause I wanted to.
TOM: You just do what you want, don’t you?

Clouds part
Just to give us a little sun
There’s a limit to your love

A Fine Frenzy – Ashes & Wine
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/A Fine Frenzy – Ashes And Wine.mp3]

Is there a chance
A fragment of light at the end of the tunnel
A reason to fight

I’ve read your entire blog from beginning to end and it made me laugh, cry and everything in between. When I was reading I kept thinking, you’re so honest and you’re not afraid to say what you feel. If I ever bump into you on the streets of SD I would totally give you a big hug and say, Thank you!

Holy balls! Beginning to end??? When I started this blog in 2003, all I talked about was concerts, food and my boyfriend. 8 years later, I’m still blogging about concerts, food and my (now ex) boyfriends! Some things never change…

I feel like I lead a different life on the interwebs, because IRL I’m not this candid. Here, I’m not afraid to admit that I still think about you without feeling like a total idiot… Maybe you’ll read it, but most likely you won’t. It’s easier to say these things when you think that no one is listening.

If you were able to identify with anything I’ve written these past 8 years, then I’m glad you found my blog 🙂

The Warblers – Somewhere Only We Know (Keane Cover)
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/Glee – Somewhere Only We Know.mp3]

And if you have a minute why don’t we go
Talk about it somewhere only we know
This could be the end of everything
So why don’t we go somewhere only we know

dispel, v.
It was the way you said, “I have something to tell you.” I could feel the magic drain from the room.

At Alicia’s dirty thirty last night, I realized that A) I should just automatically assume that every guy who pursues me is in a relationship (as my ongoing track record suggests) and B) maybe I shouldn’t have worn leggings. I can’t even tell you how many people grabbed my ass! I went home alone last night and I’m not gonna lie, I feel pretty good about not having to take a shame shower. I don’t care how hot you are (or how drunk I am), some guys just aren’t worth the trouble… I may have woken up this morning with dollar bills in my bra and a serious hangover, but at least I still had my dignity!

This must be how Reese Witherspoon felt in Pleasantville when she started reading books and stopped being such a whore.

HENRY: I didn’t want to tell you, because as long as you didn’t know, there was still… I don’t know… some fantasy where you and I could be together.
BETTY: Sometimes we want things to be different. We think maybe if we pretend that they are… fool people… that’s enough. But it never is.

I have a habit of getting addicted to shows after they’ve already been canceled. And I hate when they say, “To be continued…” at the end of an episode, because even when it’s past my bedtime, I have to continue.

nedhepburn:

Adele – Someone Like You (Live Acoustic)
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/Adele – Someone Like You (Live Acoustic).mp3]

I heard that you’re settled down
That you found a girl and you’re married now
I heard that your dreams came true
Guess she gave you things I didn’t give to you

Prince Erik: People in love don’t try to kill each other.
Nikita: Are you serious?

Some people pass through your life and you never think about them again. Some you think about and wonder what ever happened to them. Some you wonder if they ever wonder what happened to you. And then there are some you wish you never had to think about again. But you do.

The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd; the longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the soul’s consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are.

Can’t wait to watch Blue Valentine tonight with the girls!

Nothing in this universe happens just once. Infinity goes in both directions. There is no unique event, no singular moment. It means you will get another chance.

I know five* couples who have called it quits these past few weeks. Okay so maybe three of those couples are celebrities. Technicalities. Nobody stays together anymore… not even Christina Aguilera and her husband.

I met up with the girls and Anthony for sushi and drinks last night. As I listened to them talk about broken engagements, unofficial relationships, ex’s reaching out to them while they’re married… I had absolutely nothing to add to the conversation in regard to myself, and I guess that’s a good thing for once. So much for happy hour! Almost everyone I know is in some kind of relationship, whether it’s between a husband and wife, a man and someone else’s wife, a girl and her long distance love, or a boy and his fleshlight. Even though I miss being in a relationship sometimes, I don’t miss all the drama that comes along with it, and was happy to drink my mai tai in silence.

*Update: Six couples now. 2010 has def been the year of babies and breakups.

Whatever happened to chivalry? Does it only exist in 80’s movies? I want John Cusack holding a boombox outside my window. I wanna ride off on a lawnmower with Patrick Dempsey. I want Jake from Sixteen Candles waiting outside the church for me. I want Judd Nelson thrusting his fist into the air because he knows he got me. Just once I want my life to be like an 80’s movie, preferably one with a really awesome musical number for no apparent reason. But no, no, John Hughes did not direct my life.

Glee Cast – The Only Exception (Paramore Cover)
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/Glee Cast – The Only Exception.mp3]

I’ve got a tight grip on reality
But I can’t let go of what’s in front of me here
I know you’re leaving in the morning when you wake up
Leave me with some kind of proof it’s not a dream

One of my favorite songs covered by one of my favorite TV shows ♥

For everything you have missed, you have gained something else. And for everything you gain, you lose something else.

(image via plastic-sfoonss)

The most beautiful discovery true friends can make is that they can grow separately without growing apart.

I saw an old friend today. Even though our lives are so different now, it was like nothing had changed… him in his Obey shirt, me in my Reefs. Seeing him makes me miss him.

Pammie and I stayed home the entire weekend and watched a Vampire Diaries marathon. It was glorious.

(This is why I’m single.)

Sometimes when you look back on a situation, you realize it wasn’t all you thought it was. Someone walked into your life, you fell in love, or did you? Maybe it was only a childish infatuation, or maybe it was a brief moment of insanity.

The BFF told me about Il Postino’s new girlfriend today, and I felt nothing. It’s funny how I always used to find myself running back to him, for some reason, thinking it would work out differently the second third fourth fifth time. And now, I can’t think of a single reason why I’d ever want him back.

Prints of this illustration I designed are now available in my Etsy shop for $10! They are 11″ x 17″ and professionally printed by digital press on 100 lb. paper gloss.

A man is like a cat; chase him and he will run. Sit still and ignore him and he’ll come purring at your feet.

If I haven’t returned any of your messages in months, what made you think I’d appreciate the 1am phone call?

Human beings are funny. They long to be with the person they love but refuse to admit openly. Some are afraid to show even the slightest sign of affection because of fear. Fear that their feelings may not be recognized, or even worst, returned. But one thing about human beings puzzles me the most is their conscious effort to be connected with the object of their affection even if it kills them slowly within.

Every night after work, I begrudgingly drag my ass to the gym. But today, I finally found my motivation. Turbo Kickboxing Instructor Mike, where have you been all my life??? It will be like that summer I took that art class in college with that hot teacher and had unusually perfect attendance that quarter 😉

Update: I just googled Mike to see what gyms he regularly teaches at since he subbed my class today, and his personal training site lists him as MARRIED (of course he is). Come to think of it, that hot art teacher from college was married, too.

Yeah, I’m pretty sure God wants me to die alone. And possibly out of shape.

Neon Trees – Sins of My Youth

Call me crazy, I was born to make a mess
Would you love me still if I were to confess
That I had a little too much fun back when I was young
I’ve got these habits that I cannot break
And as I’m older there is more at stake
Go ahead and call me fake, but these are the sins
The sins of my youth

I’ve got wallowing down to a science… I spent the better half of 2006 perfecting it, after all. I’m not gonna lie, my usual method of getting over someone is by getting under someone else. But I’m realizing that happiness is an inside job. I can’t sit here waiting for another guy to come along to stop wallowing about the last one. One day, you just have to decide not to be sad anymore. And that day was today. Well, actually it was Friday, but killing a few bottles of wine with Anthony foiled that plan. And then I decided it was yesterday. But while getting drinks with friends, one of the employees came up to our table and asked if any of us were he who shall not be named, because he who shall not be named had a phone call. Coincidence or cruel joke? As I walked out wondering if it was a sign, I looked up to the sky, dramatically shook my fist at the heavens, and almost got hit by a car. And so I decided that today would be the day (again). It’s barely noon, but I’m feeling optimistic. I mean, I’m going to Phil’s for lunch… If a beefy rib tickler isn’t guaranteed happiness, I don’t know what is.

Letting go doesn’t mean giving up, but rather accepting that there are things that cannot be.

It’s a lot easier to be lost than found. It’s the reason we’re always searching and rarely discovered—so many locks, not enough keys.

Since the first day you reached out to me, I kept searching for hints of the relationship you kept from me. I couldn’t see it in the description of your morning routine or your weekend recaps, but I could feel it in your absent admission to the contrary. I planned to keep quiet and let this fade out, as I do with everything else I feel isn’t worth fighting for. But this was you. And to me, you have always been worth it. So I finally got up the nerve to say,

Are you seeing anyone?

I knew the answer before I even asked the question. I should have asked you this in the beginning, but I convinced myself that you wouldn’t hide something like that from me. Except you did. And while you justified it by not doing anything more than correspond back and forth, the line was already crossed when you first contacted me, and you’ve been on the other side of it ever since.

At least I know that you didn’t just dismiss me as some reckless fling you had when we were younger. I can’t be mad at you for wanting to talk to me, but what was the point of this, other than resurrecting all these memories I haven’t thought about in years? It’s like you just came back to remind me that you still can’t do this. Even if you didn’t know what you were looking to get out of this in the beginning, you made the choice not to tell me about her for months. What did you want from me?

You and I will always have some unfinished business, but eventually, it’ll be as it was. You’ll forget about me. I’ll forget about you.

You’ve been out of my life for years, but somehow your absence is more tangible now than it ever was. How can I miss something I never had?

Well, I’d say I’ve successfully fulfilled my nostalgia quota for the week year.

This trip down memory lane ended at my old friend/ex-love’s 30th birthday party last night. It’s strange to see someone you’ve spent so much of your life with and feel nothing… And to think of someone else you didn’t spend nearly enough time with and feel everything.

She wanted something else, something different, something more. Passion and romance, perhaps. Or maybe a quiet, heartfelt conversation into the wee hours of the night. Or perhaps something as simple as not being second.

(image via thewordsalloverme)

We all have the potential to fall in love a thousand times in our lifetime. It’s easy. The first girl I ever loved was someone I knew in sixth grade. Her name was Missy; we talked about horses. The last girl I love will be someone I haven’t even met yet, probably. They all count. But there are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are the most important people in your life, and you’ll meet maybe four or five of these people over the span of 80 years. But there’s still one more tier to all this; there is always one person you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of these loveable qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable. The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they’re often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really, want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else.

(image via the beholder)

Don’t say a word, just come over and lie here with me
‘Cause I’m just about to set fire to everything I see
I want you so bad I’ll go back on the things I believe
There I just said it, I’m scared you’ll forget about me

Yesterday, there was an unexpected venti iced sugar-free vanilla soy latte waiting for me at my desk when I got to work in the morning. Christine treated me out to pizza and beer at Pizza Port for dinner. And then I ended the night at an amazing $10 Temper Trap show with my girls.

Today was nothing like yesterday.

(image via thresca)

Weezer – (If You’re Wondering If I Want You To) I Want You To
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/weezer-iwantyouto.mp3]

If you’re wondering if I want you to
I want you to
So make a move
‘Cause I ain’t got all night

I just received an invitation to my ex‘s dirty 30th. It has been years since I’ve seen him and even longer since we’ve dated. It seems like only yesterday I designed the flyer for his 21st birthday. Haha. This should be interesting.

(image via luftschloss)

If a guy is treating you like he doesn’t give a shit, he genuinely doesn’t give a shit. No exceptions.

Oh, oh, I want some more
Oh, oh, what are you waiting for?
Take a bite of my heart tonight

Chel asked me a burning question I’m sure you’ve all been losing sleep over…

Am I going to have a +1 at her wedding???

I’ve spent the past couple of days mulling over this question. I thought about it while we waited in line for Alice in Wonderland, and Chel asked everyone except me who was the funnier one in their current relationships (you don’t need to ask me who was funnier in all my past relationships—I’m clearly a riot). The four of us have been attached at the nip for as long as I can remember, and I have always been the single one out. Sure, a couple of them have been single while I was single (and for a very brief moment we all were single), but I’m the only one who is ever single alone. I thought about it again when I went to dinner with my sister earlier tonight, and we ran into two of her ex-boyfriend’s ex-girlfriends. I realized that all of them were engaged—her ex-boyfriend and all of his ex’s, my sister included.

I’m almost certain that my status will remain unchanged three months from now. That’s not me being pessimistic; I’m actually quite the opposite. I think I see the good in people too often, thinking that they’re worth more than they really are… even though they continue to disprove me repeatedly. It doesn’t help that today marks a full week since Il Postino did me dirty again (and not in a good way), and as predicted, no apologies have been offered.

And so I told Chel that I won’t be needing a +1. She already has 300 guests. I don’t want her spending another $50 on dinner for this tentative +1 of mine. Alas, I will be the only one out of five bridesmaids and two maids of honor without a date. And if you’re reading this thinking, “Damn, I really wanted to be your +1…” then maybe you should stop stalking me on the internet and make movements instead—yes, I’m talking to you, Anthony!

He’ll never learn, cabrona. But then again, neither will you…

(image via sberon)

SpongeBob: What do you usually do when I’m gone?
Patrick: Wait for you to come back.

(image via sanahasflickr.)

I will not be the first one to speak. And if he never calls me again, I’ll always think of him fondly. As an asshole.

For some people, love doesn’t exist unless you acknowledge it in front of other people.

Another 3am text message from Il Postino this weekend. It’s always back and forth with us. He drunk messages me one weekend. I do it the next. He does it again, but this time he’s just trying to be funny—”trying” being the operative word here. I know he’s mocking my drunken text from the weekend before, so I tell him he’s lucky I’m awake at that unholy hour. And then I remember that I purposely ignored his messages on Valentine’s Day, so he thinks things are okay between us now that I’ve broken my silence. Every time I get off this carousel, I just get back on again, spinning around and around knowing this ride always makes me sick.

I was really dreading this past weekend, but it actually wasn’t half bad 🙂 On Friday, Shi, Ella, Sha and I did what any other masochistic group of single girls would do on Valentine’s Day weekend—we watched Dear John (aka Sobfest 2010). Christine gave it half a thumb, but I actually liked it! I cried throughout the entire movie. It definitely didn’t touch The Notebook, but I’d recommend at least renting it when it’s released (if only to see Channing Tatum running around half naked).

I drowned my sorrows at The Local with the girls and Antonio Saturday night. Fifty dollars, six cranberry vodkas, two slices of New York pizza, and one drunken text to the ex later (yikes), I called it a night at four in the morning.

I woke up on Sunday with a hangover and a text back from Il Postino. I didn’t get back to him—he drunk messaged me three times the weekend before, so I thought I didn’t have to explain myself. The girls all texted me to make sure that I wasn’t going to throw myself off a bridge before spending the day with their significant others, and I even got a V-Day greeting from the Cake Boss (which I also ignored). Shi invited me to brunch, but I felt too sick to eat anything at that ungodly hour. I spent the majority of my day designing Chel’s wedding invitation while watching Lifetime’s Lovers Lane Movie Marathon (don’t judge me). Sitting through all 120 minutes of Flirting with Forty was worth discovering Robert Buckley. Hot damn. I don’t usually like blondes, but I’ll make an exception for this one.

Il Postino texted me after midnight—and after he had gotten home from his Valentine’s date, I’m sure—saying thanks for (not) returning the drunken text and he hoped I had a great Valentine’s Day. Number one… how dare you? And number two… don’t call me past 11pm. It was late, and I didn’t think it was a good idea to respond, so I didn’t. I like how we only talk to each other when we’re intoxicated and/or at an indecent hour. Don’t make me that girl that you only call after midnight—especially not on Valentine’s Day. And especially not when I used to be that girl you’d take roller skating on a random Tuesday before the street lights came on.

I would just like to be involved with someone who values me enough to call me at a respectable hour… someone who would maybe take me to Birch Aquarium to look at moon jellies, grab some dinner afterwards (nothing fancy), and maybe share a Churros Con Chocolate cupcake from Cups. Or even a churro from Costco would be fine by me. You know, I don’t ask for much (and I also don’t get much, either… go figure).

On Monday, Chel, Shi and I had a three hour sesh at Tap Ex. We always find time for each other. These girls are my heart. They make me realize that I’m better off without these jerkoffs I keep involving myself with. And they completely understand when I blow them off to watch meteor showers with the same jerkoffs ♥

In my opinion, the best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you, the right person is still going to think the sun shines out your ass. That’s the kind of person that’s worth sticking with.

(image via someecards)

A food analogy if you will, it’s like a redneck preferring a sloppy joe to a fine cut of filet mignon—he’s too uncouth to appreciate you.

And it wears me out
It wears me out

(image via vivatregina)

Someone I used to know emailed me out of the blue last week. We were just teenagers when we knew each other. He was a part of my past that I thought would never come back—sort of like the tongue ring I used to have when I knew him. And the brown chola lip liner I used to wear. Yet there was his name in lowercase letters waiting for me in my inbox. He said that he looked me up online and stumbled upon my blog. I cyberstalk google random people all the time, but I don’t think I’ve ever contacted anyone I don’t talk to anymore. I’m really horrible at keeping in touch. Before I know it, days, months, and years go by. Like January 2010, for example. I’m still in denial it ever happened. How is it February already??? Sometimes I feel like it’s too late to say anything… I’m glad people think otherwise, though. It was really nice to hear from him (and only a little bit creepy).

I was curious about what other details of my life surfaced when he looked me up online, so I googled myself. I’m quite the social networking butterfly—my Facebook, Myspace and Twitter accounts came up first. I can only handle one social network at a time, so I haven’t touched my Myspace since I joined Facebook, and my tweets are few and far between (to the dismay of @idntfd—he thinks my life is far more interesting than it really is). Nothing too embarrassing or too personal came up, though… unless you count my old Xanga page—complete with a rotating icon of me, my ex, and my aforementioned tongue ring. Yikes.

I woke up to three messages on my phone from Il Postino at two in the morning. Nothing good ever happens at that hour.

(image via thewordsalloverme)

I have a history of making decisions very quickly about men. I have always fallen in love fast and without measuring risks. I have a tendency not only to see the best in everyone, but to assume that everyone is emotionally capable of reaching his highest potential. I have fallen in love more times than I care to count with the highest potential of a man, rather than with the man himself, and I have hung on to the relationship for a long time (sometimes far too long) waiting for the man to ascend to his own greatness. Many times in romance I have been a victim of my own optimism.

I know I have you guys, but—and really, I hate myself a little for saying this—but it felt really sad not to have a man in my life who cares about me. No special guy to wish me happy birthday. No goddamn soul mate. And I don’t even know if I believe in soul mates.

Up until four years ago, I had a boyfriend to wish me happy birthday every year for nearly a decade. I’ve had dates, relationships and what have you over the past few years, but no amount of smizing, hair flips or threats could make them stick around for my birthday. Maybe it’s those crazy wish lists I come up with, I don’t know. I hate how I let this one thing I don’t have affect all the things I do have. I’m so lucky to have such great friends and relatives. I received over fifty birthday greetings via text, Facebook and phone. But the truth is, everything could be going great in my life and none of it would matter if I didn’t have anyone to share it with.

This year was no different. Il Postino knew it was my birthday. He knew. He asked his sister where she was taking me for dinner that morning. I wish she wouldn’t mention me at all around him. I’m almost certain that if we didn’t have her to keep us connected, we would’ve let each other go a long time ago. I never ask for anything. All I wanted was to be acknowledged. He couldn’t even bring himself to—at the very least—leave me a Facebook message wishing me a happy birthday in the most informal way he possibly could. His complete disregard for me stings more than the leopard print body pillow his mom gave me for Christmas.

But in spite of all that, I saw him again last night. I didn’t bring up my birthday. I didn’t bring up the fact that we haven’t spoken since the meteor shower. Disappointment is an emotion I’ve gotten used to wearing around him. He never apologizes for anything, with the exception of that one time last summer—and even that felt like it was court-ordered. I live for these sort of movie moments. That’s all I have with him. Just moments. It’s the reason why I never argue with him. Because no matter how bad it gets, I always come back. So why ruin the moment? When I see him, it’s understood that we revert to the way things used to be between us… when everything was beautiful and nothing hurt, if only for one night. Or maybe I’ve misunderstood all along. Maybe these moments have been meaningless from the start.

I’ve realized that nothing will ever make him sure of me—not the fact that his family adores me, not the familiarity of my lips or the way my hand always fits perfectly in his, not the SpongeBob DVDs I gave him for Christmas that he didn’t bother to acknowledge just like my birthday, and especially not the fact that for reasons I can’t explain, I’ve always been so sure of him.

We all fall for them. Pricks are spontaneous, unpredictable and fun—and then we’re surprised when they turn out to be pricks.

Man, I was thinking about unrequited love. I figure it’s best to just walk that shit off. Find someone else to be excited about. It’s like if you love ice cream but your ice cream man friend won’t give you any. Maybe he’s got a good reason. It cuts into profits. Who knows? But he likes you as a friend and wants to hang out anyway. It drives you crazy to hang out with that dude, even if he’s being reasonable from his point of view. So don’t hang out with him. What, you ONLY like ice cream? It’s ice cream or nothing? Don’t be an asshole. Learn to love donuts.

Things just keep going. We didn’t talk about anything heavy or light. We were just there together. And that was enough.

Il Postino and I dated on and off until he broke my heart last winter. He didn’t talk to me for eight months afterwards. He brought a new girl home for Thanksgiving. And the past two times he has contacted me, she just happened to be out of town.

But when I’m with him, I can’t seem to remember any of that.

He took me to see the meteor shower late last night. He picked me up at my apartment and we carried on as if those gaps between our visits didn’t exist. We got to the beach and were literally the only ones there. Maybe the weekend rain had scared everyone off. We lay the blanket on the sand under a patch of sky that wasn’t covered in clouds and waited… I was cozy in his jacket and gloves, with my head resting on his pillow. Michael Jackson songs played on his iPhone while we talked about the movies we had last seen—something we always used to do together. He told me I would like “Leap Year.” I overlooked that he had seen all of these movies with someone else. He said he would be satisfied if he saw twenty-six shooting stars and asked me how much I’d be happy with. I told him that I couldn’t think of a number, but I would just know when the time came. Being there with him was enough for me. I counted thirteen shooting stars and made a handful of wishes before we left. It started raining on the drive home. We both had work in the morning. I didn’t expect him to stay, but he stayed. I noticed that he always sleeps on the right side of the bed. He reached for my hand and closed his fingers over mine. I asked him if he was seeing anyone. He said that he wasn’t. That they were just friends. That they were never a couple. I wanted to believe him. We talked about why I was moving. We talked about his family. He said that his youngest sister has been mad at him since he moved out. I told him that she just misses him. I fell asleep to the rise and fall of his chest as he slept. He stayed with me till morning. And then he left.

If he wanted to be with me right now, he would be with me. I can’t keep putting my life on hold every time he decides to make a cameo. His appearances aren’t without expectations, and I find myself searching for hidden meanings behind his every word and action. I think he doesn’t want to lose me… but he doesn’t want to keep me, either.

Rihanna – “Stupid in Love”
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/stupidinlove.mp3]

They’re telling me let go
He is not the one
I thought I saw your potential
Guess that’s what made me dumb

Cinematic Orchestra – To Build A Home
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/tobuildahome.mp3]

‘Cause I built a home for you, for me
Until it disappeared from me, from you

(image via weheartit)

(image via Le Love)

John Legend – “Everybody Knows”
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/audio/everybodyknows.mp3]

And I hope one day you’ll see nobody has it easy
I still can’t believe you found somebody new
But I wish you the best… I guess

(image via lovebot)

Lykke Li – “Possibility”
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/possibility.mp3]

So tell me when you hear my heart stop
You’re the only who knows
Tell me when you hear my silence
There’s a possibility I wouldn’t know

I regret the way pain has taught me nothing.

He told me I needed a car wash. My car was always filthy back when we were dating, and I knew he was going to say something when he saw it today. I smiled because I still knew him, but it made me sad that he hadn’t changed. Neither have I, apparently. He hugged me goodbye and held me longer than he should have. Then he left.

He sent me a message a couple weeks ago saying that “we should talk sometime.” I reasoned he was just thinking about me because it was Halloween. We spent Halloween together last year, and he had just seen his niece whose costume I had sewn. Maybe he was lonely that day. He always does this. He says “we should talk,” but I know that he won’t call. And I won’t call. He’s the one who left me. And I never chase. So where does that leave us?

(image via weheartit)

I realized today that I will never escape him. I met up with the BFF at her aunt’s house to go to dinner for her son’s birthday. I knew that Il Postino would be at work, so I wasn’t worried about running into him. But that’s all I seemed to do… without him even being there. With an extra kid in the BFF’s car, I ended up riding with Il Postino’s mom. His little sisters were supposed to be there, but they were running late as usual, so we had to go pick them up at the house. His old house. It was just me and his mom on the car ride there. She talked about him the whole time, saying how worried she was about him and that she didn’t know or trust his new friends. She said that she loved when he was dating me, because she trusted me and knew I was a good person. She apologized for going on and on (and on and on) about him. I mostly stayed quiet during the car ride. I hadn’t stepped foot in that house since I was with him almost a year ago. His grandpa told me that he missed my cupcakes. His sister was excited to show me her Halloween costume. We eventually made our way to the Spaghetti Factory for dinner. The BFF prefers the one in North County over the closer one downtown, so it was a long drive up. Time moved even slower with every mention of his name. I felt like I was in that car forever. During dinner, Il Postino’s sister said that he texted her that he was off work and waiting at their aunt’s house where we were going afterwards for birthday cake. I raised the second margarita I was on and told the BFF that I was going to need more of these if I was going to see him, half joking, but not really. When we got back to her aunt’s house, I saw his car parked outside and decided not to go up. As much as I love birthday cake, I wasn’t in the mood to deal with the awkward situation waiting for me upstairs in that tiny apartment. Not today anyway. I will always be friends with my BFF and Il Postino will always be her brother. I’ll have to figure out how to deal with that someday.

I’m a magnet for unavailable men. Physically unavailable. Emotionally unavailable. Is it too much to ask that you not be in a relationship before making a pass at me?

Meiko – “Boys with Girlfriends”
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/boyswithgirlfriends.mp3]

I know better not to be friends with boys with girlfriends
Oh, I know better than that, I know better
You play the victim and I’ll be the bad guy
I know better than that, I know better

He let me drive his car today. Nobody ever lets me drive their car (with good reason). I picked him up and took off my seat belt so I could switch to the passenger side, but he said I could keep driving. He must’ve had a stroke or something, but I stayed in the driver’s seat. We got to the store and chose the most wobbly shopping cart ever. It filled the silence as we walked up and down the aisles, stopping to grab only the necessities off the shelves. “My,” he’d say. I’d look up to see other carts trying to get through and me just blocking the aisle while I stood there distracted by all the different laundry detergents. He took over driving the cart after that. We tested air fresheners for a while. “Do you like this one?” he’d ask. “Barf,” I’d say. “Try this one.” By the time he had decided on Freshmatic Morning Rain, we both smelled like the fragrance department at Penney’s. I didn’t care, though…I had a good time with him today. We’re so comfortable now, I almost forget about what happened between us over the summer. Almost.

I miss having someone to do everyday things with.

(image via ffffound)

How do I slow down?
I can’t relate to my heart now
I’ve thrown what I’ve known
Is enough of me out?
I’m running on empty
I’ve gotta find some way
To fumble right through this new heartache
It’s torn me apart
Oh, lovesick mistake
Turn me away

I went to see Erin McCarley at Soma last night with Chel and Shi. I think she is so amazingly talented and underrated. She reminds me of one of my favorite Stella Im Hultberg paintings, Until the Day—beautiful, but painfully sad.

Don’t repeat chapters; the ending of the story will never change.

I saw him last night. He felt like home and I let him in, forgetting that he had broken my heart last winter. I wonder how many times we’ll say goodbye before we actually let go.

(image via daily post-its)

Sometimes you have to forgive people just because you want them back in your life.

Il Postino called me last night. I still recognized his phone number, despite having deleted it from my phone last year. He was over a thousand miles away for the reserves and the last person I ever expected to hear from. Eight months later, he apologized to me… I can’t remember the last time I slept this well.

This phrase has never bothered me more than it did today (maybe because it’s true).

(image via finallyseeing)

Watch 500 Days of Summer… It’ll change your life, I swear.

Lily Allen – “Who’d Have Known”
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/whodhaveknown.mp3]

You said tomorrow would be fun
We could watch a place in the sun
I didn’t know where this was going
When you kissed me

Sara Bareilles – “Gravity”
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/gravity.mp3]

Something always brings me back to you
It never takes too long
No matter what I say or do
I still feel you here ’til the moment I’m gone
You hold me without touch
You keep me without chains
I never wanted anything so much
Than to drown in your love and not feel your rain

I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn’t know you had inside you. And it doesn’t matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join, or how many glasses of chardonnay you drink with your girlfriends… you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he’ll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you’ll go somewhere new. And you’ll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade.

Sometimes, it’s easier to say that you’re fine instead of having to explain all the reasons why you’re not.

EO: just know mayan
EO: you are a GEM
EO: like so super rare
EO: that when that guy finds you
EO: he’ll feel like he struck gold
EO: it’s puzzling to me
EO: how he could fuck up a great thing
EO: you be you
EO: you’re fan-fuckin-tabulous… know that also
EO: like i dont know anyone else that plays poker… and when it’s their turn… instead of saying “call”… they say “queen-jack!”
EO: lol!
mayanrocks: oh hell no

Do you know the most surprising thing about heartache? It doesn’t actually kill you. Like a bullet to the heart, or a head-on car wreck, it should. When someone you’ve promised to cherish forever says, “I never loved you,” it should kill you instantly. You shouldn’t have to wake up day after day after that, trying to understand how in the world you didn’t know.

I gave his jacket back today. I thought about keeping it at first…. but how many times do we need to go through this before he realizes that this isn’t what he wants? That I’m not what he wants? I can’t fight for him anymore.

I remember the night he gave it to me. I was at his house watching movies with him and his family when it started to rain. I sat and watched him from the couch while he looked for a jacket for me to wear out. He walked me down to my car and was kissing me in the rain when he said, “I feel like we’re in a movie.” I started taking off his jacket to give it back to him, and he told me to keep it. Every time someone would ask me about the air force jacket in the backseat of my car, I smiled to myself remembering that night and what he said to me.

I just can’t look at it anymore.

Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life…You give them a piece of you. They didn’t ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn’t your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like ”Maybe we should be just friends” turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.

– Neil Gaiman

There are few things I love more than Sunday nights with him at the drive-in ♥

I try not to see him all the time to keep things fresh, but he’s been texting me and wanting to see me every day since we started things up again, and I can’t complain 🙂 He came over on Saturday and stayed most of the night, just he and I catching up on each other’s lives. I was going to stay home on Sunday, but he enticed me with his little sister’s fresh baked cookies. We watched a movie with the girls and he held my hand all night. He stayed the night on Monday, and I had the best sleep I’ve had in months. When he left in the morning, I told myself I wouldn’t see him the rest of the week. I don’t want him to get tired of me, because I can’t get enough of him. It’s silly to think this way, but I’ve been burned before, and I instated this “do not chase” policy years ago in order to protect my heart. He texts me that night and it’s movie night at his house. So I come over and watch movies with his mom and sisters again. Today, I told myself that I wasn’t going to see him. Too much homework. Not even gonna text him. But he texts me first. He asks me if I’m done with my homework yet. We’re texting back and forth and he’s telling me about work while I talk about school. He says that he’s making fun of his little sister’s chubby arms and she’s pissed at him. I tell him that if he ever makes fun of my arms, I will punch him in his throat! And that he should stop being a jerkface and apologize to his sister because that biatch is way skinnier than I am. He tells me that he said he was sorry and he doesn’t want to be a jerkface. And then he tells me, “You’re the right size. Don’t think like that…” I knew I kept him around for some reason 🙂 He tells me to hurry up and finish my homework so we could grab slurpees later. I love coke slurpees. And he knows it. So I scramble to get my homework done just so I can spend forty-five minutes with him and a coke slurpee before I pick my parents up from the airport. Le’sigh. I haven’t exercised in two weeks and he thinks I’m the right size. Even though my pants are feeling a bit snug today. He has ruined me…

There comes a point in your relationship when you’re comfortable enough to let them see your true colors. I believe I reached that point last night. Yesterday, I worked from home, so I didn’t bother to shower (don’t judge me) and I ordered in Chinese. As I opened my container of moo shoo pork, I got a phone call from Il Postino. He asked me about my day and sounded like he was outside somewhere, so I asked him if he was driving. He said he was walking home from his friend, Ryan’s, house. That’s at least a few miles away from his place, so I told him to wait for me because I live down the street and I could drive him home.

After I hung up the phone, I freaked out a little. He had never seen me without having showered first, unkempt in my sweat pants with no makeup on. I don’t get all dolled up when we’re just going to the movies, but I definitely don’t look like I just rolled out of bed. I assured myself that I was just gonna pick him up and drop him off at home before he even had a chance to realize that I was all hobo status. No big deal. So I picked him up and we arrived at his house five minutes later. I left the car running and he said, “You gonna come up?” How could I say no? I love spending time with him too much. I ended up staying for a few hours just hanging out with him and his family. I soon forgot about how crusty I felt when he held my hand the same, kissed me the same, and still kept his arms around me as we watched TV on the couch together. I don’t know why I bothered spending so much time getting ready before… he likes me just the way I am.

I went to the movies with Il Postino last night. It was our first REAL date. We’ve seen plenty of movies together, but we would always meet at the theater or at his house first. We’ve gone to dinner together, but we would always meet at the restaurant. He said that he wanted to pick me up. I told him to call me instead of ringing the doorbell when he got to my house. My family has known about him since April, but they’ve never met him. He just recently came back into my life (for the third time) and I wasn’t ready for introductions just yet. I didn’t tell him any of that, but he knew. He said he would just meet them next time and that he would park three blocks away for me. Haha. He called me when he was outside, and my mom rushed to the front door. She seemed more excited than me! My dad just happened to be walking the dog outside, too. I practically jumped into Il Postino’s car and told him to go, go, go. He was okay with it, though. At least I hope so. I met his family before I met him, so it’s different.

I love that he took me out for ice cream before the movie. I love that he found out that I hated strawberry ice cream and left it off the banana split we shared, even though it’s his favorite. I love that he knows that I only eat red candy and gave me all the red Sour Jacks throughout the movie. I love that we missed the showing at the theater in our neighborhood, so we had to drive all the way to La Jolla to watch the movie… because on the long drive home, I love that he held my hand in the car. Things are different this time. He’s different.

I had such a good time last night. I wasn’t expecting to celebrate Halloween, but Il Postino wanted to take me out. Yes—he’s back in my life. Again. I spent the whole summer without him, just focusing on myself for once. I mean, I lost forty pounds! By losing all that weight, I thought I would somehow gain a better life. But I still thought about him. I guess he still thought about me, too.

More Halloween photos here.

Charlotte Sometimes – Toy Soldier
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/toysoldier.mp3]

Take it back
All I’ve ever said
All the things I never really meant
Take me back I want my toy soldier
It’s okay if we play pretend
I promise to forget you’re plastic
And on my shelf
Let’s fake romance and I’ll be someone else

Last night, I heard his name and the word “girlfriend” in the same sentence.

We’ve always been on again, off again, on again, off again… I guess I just figured that somewhere down the road we would be on again. Again.

He turned around and looked right at me and said nothing, not even hi. It was as if the months we had spent together, the times I spent loving him just weren’t important, as if they never happened.

I didn’t expect to see him today. I sat there on the couch as he stood in the doorway in his military uniform, just waiting. He was there to pick up his belt that he had left there the night we had both slept over. He didn’t say a word to me, but his silence spoke volumes.

Grocery shopping is probably one of my favorite things to do. It’s something I usually do alone and after midnight. I think that I purposely go without making a list first just so I can stay there longer. Pammie hates grocery shopping, so she especially hates grocery shopping with me. Whenever she finds herself at the grocery store with me, she says, “We are NOT getting a cart, Mayan.” Psh. Like not having a cart is gonna shorten my grocery trip. Anyway, today I was cooped up in the house watching Gossip Girl CNN. Pammie had already gone home to the OC, Rocky was busy being dramatic and sighing/tossing/turning on the tile floor, trying to keep cool in this unbearable summer heat. Alicia was with Ray at the fair watching War sing her all-time favorites (Lowrider and Cisco Kid LOL). Il Postino had not called, of course (le’sigh). I figured I could go to the grocery store and find something to buy. Even though I had just gone to Costco yesterday… and Albertson’s the day before.

I moved quickly past the cookie aisle so I wouldn’t stop and drool over all the calories I shouldn’t be eating. My graceful ass pushed the cart directly into the shelf, causing a few boxes of chocolate-drizzled rice cakes to fall on me. As I was picking up the boxes, for some reason at that moment, I thought about Ken from Pat & Oscar’s in Del Mar. I ate there once years and years ago. I remember everything about that day. I was wearing my baby blue New Found Glory shirt (that I’ve since retired) and actual shoes with laces. If you know me, you know I rock the Reef flip flops all year round. Hey, it’s San Diego… you can get away with that here. It mostly started because I’m one of those people who’s always late, so I never put my shoes on till I get to my destination and that day was no different. I was sitting on the curb outside Pat and Oscar’s tying my shoelaces and my ex-boyfriend was standing there with his arms crossed wondering why I didn’t tie my shoes anytime during the half hour drive to Del Mar and saying, “You shouldn’t be allowed to wear shoes with laces. We should get you some velcro shoes, Mayan.” I opted for flip flops instead. Anyway, I digress.

We’re eating dinner with some friends and I notice this really tall, really cute waiter named Ken carrying a huge stack of plates. He’s like whoa.. whoa.. and the plates are on the floor. I was watching the whole time and I started laughing, and he noticed me laughing and flashed an embarrassed smile my way. We were almost done with dinner and I mused out loud, “I think I want a cookie for dessert.” The cute waiter guy is standing nearby and walks up to me and was like, “You want a cookie?” and I’m like, “Ummm, yeah” and I get up to go get one at the counter and he’s like, “I’ll go get it for you” and I’m like, “Okay,” so it takes me like five minutes to dig through my purse for some change for the cookie (sidenote: in re-telling this story, I’m realizing how much I have NOT changed since then), and the guy comes back with the cookie and I hand him the money and he’s like, “Oh, don’t worry about it…” and I was like ok what. I never forgot him. Stuff like that just never happens to me, and that is probably why I remember it so well. I guess i’m just waiting for another Ken to give me a free cookie. Or at least help me pick up these boxes of chocolate-drizzled rice cakes that almost killed me. Someone to just do something nice for me… Gosh!

I always get involved with the same jerks. My therapist says that it’s not THEM, it’s ME. I can only blame myself for choosing the jerks over the nice guys. And by “therapist” I mean The Love Doctor from Channel 933. It’s the only thing on during my morning commute! I don’t know what it is about assholes that attracts a nice girl like me. Maybe it’s the sarcasm. Or the biting wit. Who knows, really. All I know for sure is how it always ends up. And that’s with me grocery shopping alone after midnight. Yet I still involve myself with these jerk offs. Some things never change, I guess… especially me.

So I’m in the middle of my screen printing class downtown when I get a text message that says, “How was your newsletter this week? I heard your work mentioned on the radio.” I don’t know whether I should thank my boss or strangle her. I knew it was Il Postino, even though I deleted his number a month ago after he was a complete jerk to me. He’s the only one who would ask about my newsletters. I like to keep work and the rest of my life separate, so I don’t really talk about it with anyone. But I talked about it with him… I text him back and tell him that we’re doing a promotion with Channel 933. He texts me back and asks me if I have any plans this week. This guy. If he thinks that he can just walk back into my life after treating me like shit, then he is sadly correct mistaken. I ignored his text, undecided whether I should respond or not, and started the long trek back to my car (courtesy of the Padres game). He called when I finally got to my car fifteen minutes later. And I answered. Le’sigh. We haven’t talked on the phone since that week we both got caught up in the magic that is Disneyland. There were no awkward silences and he was actually open about things… He talked about work, the air force, the family dog who recently passed, the two birds they still had. I talked about what has been going on in my life. Before I knew it, an hour and a half had passed. Talking to him makes me miss him. Who knows where this will lead…

Forget about all the reasons why something may not work. You only need to find one good reason why it will.

Some guy came up to me at a bar tonight and said, Haven’t I seen you before at Dick’s Last Resort? I looked at my coworkers and thought, Is he serious right now? Maybe if I had been a bit more drunk I wouldn’t be at home in my pajamas blogging about this.

This is pretty much the closest I’m gonna get to an engagement ring for a while:
http://www.emitations.com/marion.html

So my birthday kicks off this weekend followed by a week in Hawaii with the girls. In preparation, I’ve exercised twice a day drank several Coldbusters to make sure this cold I got over New Years doesn’t ruin my vacation. I’ve also made my pearly whites more pearly, gotten my eyebrows waxed, made an appointment for a pedicure… You know, normal girly things that girls do to make them feel nice (and make boys notice their niceness)… The rest of the girls I’m going to Hawaii with all 1up’d me and gave up carbs and exercised daily and oh, did I mention they all got motherfucking BRAZILIANS! What’s a brazilian, you ask? No, it’s not Tom Brady’s ladyfriend. Let me spell it out for you… It’s P-A-I-N. I popped a vicodin or two (or five) to ease the peroxide-induced pain of teeth whitening. I’m exaggerating zero percent. What would it take for me to numb the pain of waxing where the sun don’t shine? A fucking qualude? That’s a level of sexy I’m not ready for. Most (if not all) of my girl friends are in a relationship. Including my one lesbian friend. I’ve found that as a single girl you can go in one of two directions… You can either wax your nether regions, wear makeup just to get the mail outside and follow a strict diet to a better skinnier you. OR you can take advantage of the fact that nobody sees your legs anymore and let a day or two go by without shaving, eat all the carbs you want because sandwiches make you happier than any man ever could, and forgo the expensive perfume you used to wear for a cheaper bar of Ivory soap. I’ve elected to go the latter since my break up almost two years ago (has it really been that long?). Maybe I’ll reconsider becoming that hairless waif when I don’t enjoy having my bed all to myself anymore.

Attention, unmarried people of America: You can splurge on a fancy new wrist watch without having to explain yourself. You can stay out till 3 a.m. without having to phone home. You can leave the toilet seat up. In fact, there are many, many ways that single life rocks, though you may forget that fact when your relatives are grilling you about settling down. Not only do you have the freedom to do anything you want—it’s also the best time in history to be flying solo. Want more specifics on why you should celebrate being single?

Reason #1: You have a better body. We’ve all been there—you get into a relationship, and suddenly you’re trying out new recipes all the time and cuddling instead of exercising. Well, things tend to get worse with marriage. A recent Cornell University study found that women generally gain five to eight pounds in the first few years of marriage and unhappily married women gain an average of 54 pounds in the first 10 years.For the unmarried, though, the motivation to stay slim remains: “Singles look at themselves through the eyes of others and want to be attractive to potential partners,” says Susan Davis, Ph.D., a clinical psychologist in New York City, “so they’re still ‘working on themselves.’” In short, being single is way better than any New Year’s resolution or exercise DVD to motivate you to stay in shape.

Reason #2: You’re more likely to achieve great things. It’s amazing what you can accomplish when you have the time, the quiet and the lack of familial responsibilities. In fact, your premarital motivation to excel in life may be biologically programmed. According to a study conducted at the London School of Economics and Political Scientists, male scientists who stay single longer peak in their careers later in life and tend to be more productive than their married counterparts. Researchers theorize that men, in general, may show off their talents to win the interest of women and then, once they’ve won a wife, get comfortable and do less. In fact, studies have shown that testosterone levels, which boost action, decrease after a man gets married and has children. So single folk should know they are primed to achieve—whether that means turbo-charging their careers or honing their rock-climbing skills—and get out there and work it!

Reason #3: You do less housework. You know that saying about a tree falling in a forest and there’s no one there to hear it? Well, if you leave a sock on the floor but there’s no one else there to see it, does it really need to be picked up? If you’re a single woman, you can contemplate deep questions like this one because you have more free time. According to one study published in the Journal of Marriage and Family, women do less housework when single than when married. Men, on the other hand, do more housework when unmarried (that’s probably because there’s someone picking up after them once they’re wed…). So the message here is for unmarried women to enjoy their less chore-filled life; fill those free hours with classes, good books, blabbing with friends—whatever makes you happy.

Reason #4: You can do what you want with your money—including keep it. Go ahead: Splurge on that pricey moisturizer or that obscenely large plasma TV you’ve been lusting after. You don’t have to justify your purchase to anyone but yourself. Once you mix money with marriage, though, things change—and fast. According to a survey by SmartMoney magazine, 40 percent of women and 36 percent of men have lied to their spouses about a purchase. “When you’re single, your finances are your own,” explains Phyllis Chase, a Los Angeles–based psychologist and co-host of the radio show Shrink Rap. “When you’re married, you have to deal with different styles of spending and saving, and you may take on your partner’s debt.”

Reason #5: You have better sex. Married couples may have more sex (approximately 98 times a year vs. singles’ 49), but singles have better sex. According to a recent study published in the British Medical Journal, married women are significantly more likely to report problems with their sex lives than single women. “People who are dating have better sex because it’s novel,” says Davis. “Married people have to relearn how to play. It’s natural for singles because that’s the nature of a courting relationship—they tease, they experiment, they explore.” Nature lends a helping hand, too. According to researchers at the University of Pisa in Italy, raging testosterone levels in both men and women makes the sex hotter during the first two years of a relationship. After that, other hormones take over—most notably, oxytocin, a bonding chemical, kicks in. While getting connected and comfortable is a positive step in a relationship, long-term lovers have to work harder to keep things hot in the bedroom. Singles, however, sizzle just the way they are.

Reason #6: You’re better rested and smarter. While snuggling up next to a warm body can be pretty fantastic, according to a survey conducted by the National Sleep Foundation, your bedmate can cause you to lose an average of 49 minutes of sleep per night. Sleeping two-to-a-bed just isn’t as restful as snoozing solo. Other studies confirm that singles generally get more rest—seven to eight hours of sleep a night—than marrieds, which enhances memory, mood and concentration, as well as allows your immune system to recharge.

Reason #7: You’re less depressed. Although the media often perpetuates the image of single people being down in the dumps, overall unmarried people tend to be happier than their married counterparts—if you’re a woman, that is.

Reason #8: You have better friendships. Significant others are a wonderful thing, no doubt, but friends count, too. And on that front, one study found that, when women get married and have children, they spend much less time with their friends—less than five hours a week, down from 14 hours. Singles, however, often have the greatest sense of friendship and community—which can actually decrease stress levels, according to researchers at UCLA. Here’s another way to look at this: “Singles don’t rely on just one person to meet their needs. You don’t automatically know who you’re going to spend Friday night with,” says Sasha Cagen, author of Quirkyalone: A Manifesto for Uncompromising Romantics. “The plus side is that you have a lot of different people in your life and potentially a greater sense of social possibilities.”

Reason #9: Your travel tales are enviable. Marrieds take the most vacations, dominating the market with 62 percent of all trips taken, but singles arguably go on more interesting trips. According to the Travel Industry Association of America, singles corner the adventure-travel market, engaging in activities like whitewater rafting, scuba diving and mountain biking. Being single and relatively footloose certainly allows you to expand your geographical—and personal—borders.

Reason #10: You know yourself—and what you want out of a relationship. You’re a better catch now than you were at 20. You may have signs of, ahem, experience etched on your face, but that’s OK because you’re more interesting and more self-aware. Not only have you grown as a person, but you’ve probably been through the ringer a few times in matters of love and now know what you want—and what you don’t.

And that’s a wonderful message: Your single self is great… and should you find the right person and decide to marry, you’re more likely to thrive in that stage of your life, too.

(Via The Worm-Hole Laboratory)

(In the words of one of my best girls…)

The stars and the moons have all aligned at this point in time and have made the unthinkable happen. It has been well over a decade since it last happened and a handful of guys that have brought us to this point. Chris, Dang, Duke, Edgar, Viet, Alvin, Dennis, Daniel, Jed, Anthony, Flex, Mark, and all the miscellaneous boys in between have brought us four to this very place…together.

We’ve been through it all. They love us but we don’t love them. We love them but they don’t love us. Engagements. First apartments. Break-ups for the wrong reasons. Break-ups for the right reasons. Multiple make-ups. Home wreckers. Friends into lovers. Lovers into friends. Lovers into enemies. Lovers we cut out completely. Under cover lovers. Wedding call offs. Returned bridesmaid dresses. College break-ups. Long distance relationships. Being in hopes. Finally letting go. Fighting to make things work.

We could write a book.

“We’re older and we’re not fuckin around anymore.”

I’m always thinking… in life…is it always black and white? Or is there that “grey” place where we can sit and hide from making definite decisions? To me…It either is or it isn’t. You either do or you don’t. That’s me. I wanted to finish college…I did it in 3 years and a quarter. I wanted my real estate license…I woke up, studied, took the state exam, and passed. I wanted to be a manager at my last branch…went to work early, worked overtime, and got it. I wanted to leave the banking center…applied for commercial banking and now I’m here. Dude…I take less than a minute to figure out what to eat at a restaurant. You will never hear me telling a server that I need another minute to figure out what I want to fucking order. To me…it’s THAT easy. But with chel, pam, and mayan…I see that it’s not always black and white. Sometimes it is grey. And trust me, I have bitched with this realization.

There’s a reason why all four of us are going through all this shit together. We’ll know to be careful. We’ll know when it’s too late to make things better. We’ll know when the situation is too fucked up to fix. We’ll know when to forgive. We’ll know if there’s room to let them back in. Or we’ll know when to just walk away. We don’t know for sure now…but our experiences help us put it all in perspective.

I would not want to be single with any other three women than these three bitches.

All I’d ever wanted was to forget. But even when I thought I had succeeded, pieces kept emerging, like tiny bits of wood floating up to the surface that only hint at the shipwreck below…

Last summer, I suffered a slight emotional breakdown. Okay so maybe it was a massive breakdown that lasted nearly half a year. Whatever. I spent that entire time by myself trying to forget everything that drove me into this very bad place. I couldn’t escape it. I started coming around again when I realized that I didn’t want to spend my 25th birthday alone. Months later, I still wasn’t completely over it. But something happened last weekend. Someone walked past me smelling of his shampoo, and that normally would’ve made me remember, but, on that day, there was no rush of emotionally charged memories. No shooting pain through my chest. Nothing. I’ve finally let go.