Tag Archives: Single

A Valentine’s Day Lament

I’ve always felt a certain amount of disdain for discomfort in Valentine’s Day… The amount of pressure that lies on the head of this day is truly beyond my ability to comprehend.

If you’re single, you do one of two things:

  • Option 1: You spend the day having cocktails with your other single girl friends – toasting to being (you guessed it) single.
  • Option 2: You eat ice cream from the carton and drink wine from the bottle in front of the TV.

If you’re taken, you spend ages planning for an expensive dinner and buying expensive gifts for a day that, in my opinion, means nothing special.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love the colors red and pink, I sign almost everything with an xx or an xo, and there was once a time I signed all my blog pots with “♥”. And I love love. I really do – it’s even in my twitter profile. But I love those things every day, not just once a year on 2/14.


I grappled with how to reconcile my feelings about Valentine’s Day side by side with my having a boyfriend this year. Clearly, as I write this post with a furrowed brow and a confused face, I still haven’t figured it out but I can at least tell you my plans:

Tonight, I’ll spend Valentine’s Day with My Honey, only because I want to see his face and he wants to see mine. We’ll go to a nice restaurant in Queens. I’ll get a little fancy just because, and we’ll toast to what’s to come. I have no interest in heart-shaped boxes filled with chocolates or expensive gifts on this day because for me, that’s not the point. I want for nothing more than him (and perhaps some grocery store flowers) and he wants for nothing more than me (and perhaps a nice cold beverage). And because we’re an imperfect pair, we’ll probably drink one too many beers and stumble home in laughter together – just like we’d do any other day. And that’s what’s important, enjoying each other today and every day.

Happy Valentine’s Day (and every day) to you and yours.

xx, xo, and ♥,

How to Love

Being a New Yorker is hard. 
Being a single female in New York is harder.
But being a skeptical, jaded, single, New York City girl with an open mind about love is the hardest.


The idea of opening your heart and finding love – any kind of love – is hard to fathom. This includes the idea of love, a potential future of love, flirting your way into love… a lovah… allademAll I’m saying is if you’ve been in love (big love) and you’ve been hurt (which is everyone), then it’s nearly impossible to drop your guard, open up your heart and let someone new in.

Case in point – one of my lovely girl friends. She’s a super kind, super gorgeous girl with a huge badonkadonk and a skinny waist and a ton of love to give. And she’s extra single. Why? She’s not sure and neither am I. But then one day over a few glasses of chianti she told me “I don’t let guys touch me on the first date.”

“Not even hold your hand?” I shouted.


“What do you mean, ‘no’!?” Now, I should state that this conversation went around in more circles than necessary – likely due to the chianti. 

“I don’t let guys touch me because all of that is intimate. Holding my hand is very intimate.” I was a little dumbstruck. I guess I understood her point, but my first thought was who used to hold your hand and why was it so damn intimate. I immediately asked her if she’d allow a first kiss – arguably the best part of any evening with a new guy after a fun date.


“No??!!!!? Ghurl, please!” Clearly, we dissolved into giggles here but through the laughter she told me she was absolutely serious. That if any man touched her on a first date, or a second or even a third, she’d cut them off and move onto the next one. 

What is it about girls and our inability to let go and open up? While we’re working on saving ourselves from getting hurt again, we’re also becoming brilliant at self-sabotage.

Personally, I have one of the best leave me alone side eyes this side of the Hudson, but it might be deterring perfectly fine men from coming up and saying hello. Demetria Lucas of A Belle in Brooklyn has devoted part of her debut book to helping women open up. It involves something as simple as a smile. So I’ve been getting my practice on to see if it really does work.

“Damn, you ladies and your boots. Stompin’ all over my damn heart,” a man said to me on the A train platform at West 4th Street on Monday evening. I turned my head and smiled at him, taking the time to size him up. Nothing about him was my type, but what’s really in a type anyway? 

“Oh man, and that smile! Just damn.” And with that he smiled, tipped his hat, and walked away.

Now what was so hard about that?

Unless you’re dense or not of this generation, you understand the title of this post is inspired by this song

PSA: Single Ladies, Listen Up!

Let’s face it, ladies. If you’re a single twenty-something, living in a bustling and exhausting city, its not as easy to find a man as some might think. In New York City alone, single women outnumber single men by over 210,000 (is that not horrific??). What does that mean? We’re going to spend more time single than we’d like. But I strongly believe that there are a few things that every woman must always indulge in, whether she is single or not:

Waxing, Sugaring, Shaving, Plucking, Threading, Bleaching, etc.
I cannot stress this enough. If you let yourself go, you will never feel sexy enough to snag a new man. Never. You’ll go out and hang your head low because your eyebrows aren’t waxed. You’ll stand with your shoulders slumped and your legs crossed one over the other because your you-know-what needs a tune up and your legs need shaving. And you’ll be generally uncomfortable because you don’t feel beautiful but you can’t quite figure out why. So pick your poison and keep it pretty.

Don’t forget Victoria’s Secret
Because nothing exudes confidence like walking around with this under your outfit:


Treat yourself to dinner & a movie
Please don’t reserve those kind of dates for when you have a man. I dated a man who LOVED the movies. When we broke up, theatres throughout the city became off limits to me as they all held too many memories. While I was pouting, I was missing the incredible works of art being released. Now, I’m playing catch up on Netflix (still) so that when a cute boy at a bar asks me “oh, you’re from Boston? Have you seen The Departed?” I can say “absolutely!’ and follow up with something witty – so much sexier than saying “oh… no.” #womp.

Always indulge in home cooked meals
The thing about cooking is that sometimes we save the impressive stuff for proving your wife potential. The thing about saving the impressive stuff is that you don’t get to treat yourself. So, instead of enjoying a delicious Coq Au Vin, you’re eating pasta with a boring sauce and getting a little fat. Treat yourself! You deserve a beautiful, home cooked meal. Don’t get lazy, get working. Besides, how do you expect that engagement chicken to work if you haven’t tested it at least twice?

Don’t forget lazy Sundays
There is nothing like a lazy Sunday in the arms of a lover. It’s like there’s no such thing as laziness because you’re spending that time with a lovah. I personally feel guilty about lying in bed all day on a Sunday just because. But sometimes, you just have to indulge in a lazy Sunday chill session. Turn on Tweet’s Southern Hummingbird album, grab a book, order take out, and just hang.