Growing up, I was taught that “home is where the heart is” – compliments of some hand-stitched needlepoint that my mom or grandma had done at some point and hung on the wall. There’s the part in The Wizard of Oz where Dorothy clicks her ruby red heels together and chants ‘There’s no place like home’ three times then magically reappears there. Sometimes it’d be nice to be able to do this. Trust me – there have been times that I’ve wished I could click my glittery size 12 pumps (just kidding, those days are over) together and end up in my mom’s house with a home-cooked meal in the land of a lack of reliable cell phone service where the closest guy on Grindr is 4 miles away. Continue reading
As we rolled into San Diego on a sunny Sunday afternoon, depression started to set in. In less than 24 hours I was supposed to be boarding my flight back to Chicago and trading 80-degree temps for 50’s and rain. Determined not to let the inevitable (me leaving) get us down, we headed for Balboa Park to stretch our legs and let Baker make some friends at the dog park before checking into our amazing last-minute AirBNB booking at the Granada House (make sure to check out their blog too!!) in San Diego’s North Park neighborhood. As our stomachs began to growl (yes, gays really do eat sometimes), we set off for the beach to grab dinner and catch the end of the sunset.
I mean seriously…how can you not fall in love with this view?
And just like that, my love affair with San Diego began. Continue reading
It was recently brought to my attention that Manhunt thinks I’m one of the hottest guys on their site. Well that’s a new one. I’d honestly forgotten I even had a profile on there until I received this email from them the other day:
“Hey there! We love your look, and we’re sure a lot of our users would agree! We’d like to feature you as one of our hottest members. This will include one picture (only your public pictures would be used) and a link to your Manhunt profile featured on our blogs and social networks.”
My ego would like to extend a sincere thank you for the boost of confidence.
But really, Manhunt, thanks. I’ll take the compliment.
I mean, who knows…perhaps some Prince Charming in a Maserati (or on a yacht) will see this and be like “Well helloooooooooo, future husband material!” and come speeding/sailing to rescue me from my high-rise tower on Lake Michigan.
One can dream, right?
So here I was, sitting around avoiding folding my Mount Everest-sized pile of laundry engulfing my bed when *ping* – in comes an email from Manhunt showcasing it’s hottest members of the week. Soon after, my phone started pinging more frequently alerting me that my Prince Charming wannabes were sending me messages. Well that was fast.
However…the first message sent me into a fit of laughter and reminded me how ridiculously barbaric some men are. If you thought there was no hope for humanity, you’re probably right based on some of these conversations. I can’t help but shake my head in disgust while laughing to myself as I take a screenshot. So on that note, I present to you Round 2 of some of the more ridiculous messages I’ve received lately on Grindr, Manhunt, and other such apps. Continue reading
Once upon a time, two twins were separated at birth. They lived apart for nearly 24 years before being reunited in Nebraska. This, ladies and gentlemen, is the tale of my unofficial (however it could be proven official if we got Maury Povich involved) twin and our tapeworm-fueled shenanigans/future plans.
Here we were in the booming metropolis of Lincoln, Nebraska. As any quality friendship begins these days, we were introduced by a mutual friend at the bar and bonded over vodka-sodas, tequila shots, frog sperm, and the fact that we shared the same ex-boyfriend with a Dorito-tinged skin color that rivaled Snooki’s circa season one of MTV’s the Jersey Shore. It was love at first sight for the two of us twins – well, within reason because twincest…well, that’s just gross. Continue reading
They always say everything happens for a reason. I’m a firm believer in this, and I’m sure I’m not alone in this. I find myself thinking to myself rather frequently (especially lately), “What if I hadn’t been in this place at that time? I wouldn’t have met so-and-so or experienced this.” It’s crazy when you think about it.
Seriously though…think about it.
I’ve been lucky enough in the past few years to meet some amazing people and have some great experiences and opportunities through being in the right place at the right time. There’s a few instances in particular that stick out in my mind… Continue reading
As I quickly close in on turning 26 (gasp), I started to think about who I am, where I’ve come from, and what I’ve learned over the years. Will this be slightly sentimental, possibly. Will it be entertaining, most likely, I’m a pretty entertaining individual (or at least I like to think so).
No matter how hard I try, I’ll probably never be good at calculus or chemistry. Do I care? Nope. Doesn’t apply to my life. Over it. Those borderline-failing grades and late-dropped classes from high school and college clearly didn’t matter.
Geography is not my strong point either. Clearly, since before I moved to Nebraska I thought it was the state above Texas. I also learned while out there that there are mountains in Wyoming so, therefore, it makes sense to put stacked stone in a bookstore.
If you’re good at bullshitting and wording things right, you can make a job folding clothes and changing/aiming lightbulbs at Abercrombie & Fitch relevant to interior design. Same with putting away sunglasses at Sunglass Hut. Things like this can also help you land a good position after college. It’s all in how you talk it up. Continue reading
I’d like to apologize in advance, but some people just need a harsh dose of reality…or a swift kick straight in the mangina. One such person is my former roommate and one of my closest friends who decided to pour our friendship down the drain like the bottle of gin he probably shouldn’t have consumed before scoring his second DUI. But really, there’s no hard feelings between the two of us, can’t you tell?
But really…where do I even begin? Perhaps at the beginning of our soon-to-be-trainwrecked friendship.
When I first moved to Lincoln back in June 2011, I was absolutely terrified to say the least. Not knowing a single person – no friends, no relatives, nobody at all – it was probably one of the biggest leaps of faithlessness I’ve ever made in my life. Stranded in the Midwest with no friends and not even knowing where the gay bar(s) were – if any at all.
Perhaps you’re wondering, “What did you do?” “How did you meet anyone?” “How did you become the Regina George of the Mean Girls or the Teresa Giudice of the Real Housewives of Lancaster County?” Simple. This bitch got on Grindr and networked his ass off (much like he did in Chicago).
I wasted no time making friends with the first non-shirtless guy around my age who had something other than a bathroom mirror selfie for a default pic. Rescuing me from an exciting evening of Netflix, sweatpants, and antisocial drinking, I was informed to be at a certain corner (typical) at a certain time. I would be meeting up with my new soon-to-be-made friend and his friends who would become my new friends. Continue reading