Desperation Station

Do you think there was ever a time when breakups were just breakups? Imagine how nice it must have been to sit through the awkward half hour conversation of, “This isn’t working”, and then go home and drink yourself to sleep dreading the next time you’d awkwardly run into him.

Nowadays, you have to go home and drink yourself to sleep while purposefully running into them on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram to see if they’ve posted anything that proves they’re as devastated and regretful as you want them to be. There are no longer coincidental run-ins, only stalker set-ups when you happen to think you look really cute today, and it might be worth taking a cab to the Starbucks they just checked into on Foursquare before their cappuccino is even frothed.

Or maybe just update your OKCupid photos since you know they’ve been looking at your profile anyway. They track that shit.

Last night, before I had even finished my first martini, my best friend mentioned I might be a little…”desperate”. She was lucky I’d already eaten the olives and was against wasting liquor, or she’d have been blinded by a flying garnish.

But that’s what best friends are for, right? To tell us the honest truth?

NO, YOU IDIOTS! Best friends are for saying that you were the prettiest one at prom and you were robbed of the crown because everybody was jealous!

OK, maybe I see her point.

The problem is, America, that this is the longest I haven’t had a serious relationship since I was 19. And by “serious”, I mean a jealous boyfriend who constantly texts me wondering where I am while I tell him he’s not the boss of me. And I miss that.

My best friend says I need to be OK with being alone before I can fully open my heart to another person. Then again, she’s had one boyfriend and they’ve been dating for over six years, so maybe she’s not the most qualified to judge me about my “serial dating addiction”. Plus, I spend most of my time staring into the mirror practicing my angles, so I think I’m pretty good at being alone.

Though, I did put in a work request for dimmer lighting in my bathroom. At least until I get my summer glow.

By the end of my second martini and a lot of fried food, I figured my best friend might have a point. I decided to spend last night watching movies, by myself…reflecting…in my twin bed…with four stuffed animals.

Oh GOD I’m going to die alone,

TJB: Making It

Ex-istential Crisis

There I was, sitting next to the new boyfriend who had no idea I was the old boyfriend. All he knew was that I was the "friend" his current boyfriend had been catching up with, and let me just say:

nobody wants their boyfriend catching up with friends that look like me.

Had I been a littler quicker, I would have thought to ask the box office attendant to switch me to a seat in the back, not next to 185 pounds of baggage. But I was stuck, a towering 6'1", shaking hands with New Boyfriend and welcoming him to Chicago. I was flippin' cherry cordial.

Until three people who knew very well that I was Old Boyfriend came up to hug New Boyfriend without so much as a warning glare in my direction. Let's just say, I practically memorized that program by the time the lights dimmed.

I admit, I had never felt younger, prettier, or smarter than I did sitting there, listening to the-other-friend-who-belonged-there talk to New Boyfriend. But as I read the list of money donors for a third time to avoid having to participate in the conversation, I couldn't  shake that bitter taste from my mouth.

Because I had been drinking A LOT that morning.

I sat and said nothing between dance numbers as I choked back tears from the combination of beautiful choreography and my sad, sad situation. I waited outside during intermission, and when the show ended, booked it to a hidden corner of the hallway to wait for my goodbye.

I walked home singing "On My Own" as if Cameron Mackintosh were on the street casting. My life felt the fast approaching of "A Little Fall of Rain", and knowing they cut that song in HALF for the movie, I needed a pick-me-up before I dove into Adele.

So, I took a shower and washed that man right out of my hair. Full voice. Sorry neighbor.

I believe that one day, there will be somebody awesome to sit next to my old boyfriend at my shows. Until then, I'll try to figure out why anybody would want so may tattoos.

I ate lunch twice today,

TJB: Making It