3 Liebster Awards? Maybe my luck is turning around…?

liebster

I will totally admit, that until very recently, I had no idea what a Liebster Award was. That’s probably because I have only been blogging for, what, a whole 5 months? Needless to say, I was shocked and honored to be nominated for 3 Liebster Awards by some awesome bloggers!

For those, like me, who are unfamiliar with the Liebster Award, it is an internet award given to bloggers by other bloggers. It’s main objective is to recognize newbies to the blogosphere by bringing attention to blogs who have 200 or less followers and who are just starting out.

Turns out, the word Liebster, which is German in origin, has several meanings including sweet, kind, nice, and ironically, boyfriend. So it feels fitting.

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The Online Dating Game – A Reflection

reflection

As my love sabbatical reaches its final weeks, I’ve had some time to ponder about why I despise online dating as much as I do. For one thing, I find the whole idea to be completely unnatural, but that’s probably because in my mind it’s still 1995 and my see-through pager clipped onto my waistband is my most technologically advanced mode of communication. I suppose I should just accept that this is how shit works these days, but I don’t roll like that. I always want to fight the system. Basically, I’m a pain in the ass.

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Laid in Manhattan – The True Story of My One-Night-Stand from Hell

laid

When I graduated college, I was pretty certain that it would just be a matter of time before I met some amazing guy, got married, and started a family. After all, I was in my early 20’s, had escaped 4 years of undergrad without gaining any weight, and was working in Manhattan for a brag-worthy company (making pennies, but still)! And since I have zero ability to live in the moment, along with a glass-half-empty outlook on life, it was not surprising that I began to preemptively stress over what experiences I might not have before I ended up marrying the last man I would ever sleep with. Not that I was totally inexperienced or a prude, but there were definitely some things that I had yet to have done, sexually speaking. Contemplating a future with one, and only one sexual partner, prompted me to create my own little bucket list – a sexual bucket list, if you will, that I decided I would have to complete before my upcoming matrimony to my then unidentified future husband.

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8 Hot Yoga Items To Help You Master Your Zen

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When I’m not busy fighting with men online or getting Catfished, I like to spend my time releasing my frustrations why getting a workout (I’m sure as hell not releasing my frustrations any other way, wink wink). My favorite way to de-stress is by practicing yoga. I’m a bit of a gym-a-phobe, in that I literally hate anything having to do with the gym. I want to want to be active and healthy, but I have a difficult time sticking to something, especially if I absolutely hate it. I’ve tried it all, from just hitting the gym (with and without a trainer), to zumba, to spinning, and everything in between. Finally, I found my happy place in the yoga studio. It’s been over two years since I began faithfully attending yoga classes 3-4 times a week and I can honestly say that I’ve never felt better, both physically and mentally. My classes kick my ass and are very challenging but there is always a next level to get to and I am always improving and mastering postures that I was unable to do before. That, in and of itself, is what keeps my interest.

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How To Give Yourself The Perfect “First Date” Manicure

manicure

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If you’re anything like me, nothing bothers you more than a sloppy-looking, chipped manicure. Because you never know when you might meet a hot guy or get asked out on a last minute date, it’s super important to be able to master the art of the at-home manicure since you won’t always have time for a nail salon pit stop! Trust me when I tell you that men will notice if you’ve got jacked up nails (my ex used to tell me that he didn’t remember what I wore on our first date, but he remembered that he really liked my brown nail polish)!

I love nail polish! The first time my cleaning lady came to my house she told me that she had never before seen anyone with as big of a nail polish collection as me.

It’s true. I have a bit of an obsession with nail polish; an addiction if you will.

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While many girls enjoy treating themselves to a relaxing mani / pedi at the nail salon, the thought of going to one of those places totally skeeves me out. All I can think about is how many dirty feet touched the water basin, how many were scrubbed by the loofah bar, and how many nails were filed with the nail file, among other things.

I just can’t.

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Not Marriage Material

marriage

I probably wasn’t ready to get married.

I dated my ex-husband for two years before we got engaged. We were engaged for a year and a half before our big, lavish wedding. We got divorced four years later.

Looking back now, I’m not quite sure that I was as mature enough for marriage as I had thought I was. Truthfully, I’m pretty sure I didn’t even think about whether or not my maturity should even be a factor. The harsh reality is, I wasn’t exactly “marriage material” at the time.

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The List: If You Build It, He Will Come (he f#cking better!)

List

I’m really not sure why I even bother to get my hopes up anymore when it comes to dating. Yet, once again, I’ve found myself disappointed after what I thought may have been a potentially decent candidate. Mike sent me a message on one of my dating apps. He appeared cute, in an understated way, and a little nerdy. Totally not my type at all, but his profile seemed above-average normal, he was within my desired age bracket, and he lived less than 50 miles away (score!). Besides, he sent a cute first message, which consisted of more than “hi” or “omg you’re so beautiful, how are you singl…”(snore.) So I decided to play along and respond, especially since I’ve been getting major shit from my friends for being “too picky” lately (sometimes I let them watch me swipe through Tinder. Bad move.)

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There’s Something About Harry…

Harry

My best friend, Harry, is a sex addict. Or at least that was the story we were going with, up until a couple of months ago when he miraculously had a “come to Jesus” moment (or rather more like a “I think I’ll try to be a good boy for a little while, just to see how long I can stand it” moment) and decided to stop sleeping with anything with a vagina and a car. For a while there, his bedroom was a revolving door of women, sometimes too many for me to keep track of, all vying for Harry’s love and attention. There were times I wish I could have warned some of these poor ladies, since nobody knows what a futile task it is to try to win Harry’s heart more than I do, but being his “bestie” I could only listen, often laugh (sorry – terrible, I know), and attempt, unsuccessfully, to beat some sense into his thick head. The truth is, it wouldn’t have mattered what, if anything, I had said to any women in his life, because there is just something about Harry that can make even the most sensible woman lose her goddamn mind.

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