#PinkFriday

photo via VictoriasSecret.com

Hi, I’m Marie…and I’m a shopaholic.

Actually, I’m a binge shopper. I’m not one to perpetually shop but when I do…I splurge.

Like when Victoria’s Secret is having a sale.

Like today. 

In my defense, it’s been a rough week. I haven’t had running water at my apartment since Saturday night, and I’m skeptical it will be fixed tonight. Call it what you want: You may say addiction, I say therapy. If only BCBS covered it…

photo via VictoriasSecret.com
VictoriasSecret.com

I’ve also been working my butt off in the office, which is why I’ve been woefully neglectful of my blog. Sorry. Life is hard, so I bought this shirt…

Anyway…I’m sitting at this cafe near my office, trying to write a post that actually means something…but I’m so distracted. Scattered.

Needless to say, I’m about to hit ‘check out’ on a pretty full cart. Thank God for my Victoria’s Secret credit card…or maybe it’s the death of me. As long as I pay it off, right?

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Do NOT Text Him #38

Reorganize your Pinterest boards.

I don’t know if it’s my crazy schedule or the fact that I spent an obscene amount of time working on things from this list, but I’m actually at a point where not texting him – or ANYONE – is kind of a way of life now.

But it’s nice to have a whimsical list of post ideas that I can pull from when I’m stuck.

That said, if you’re going to try reorganizing your Pin boards, be prepared to fall down the rabbit hole. Lucky for me, I can consider it “working” because I’m not just reorganizing but optimizing my boards (see my actual write up on Pinterest optimization).

Regardless, the minute you decide to dig your nails into the depths of your pin boards, you’ll be lost. It’s easiest to do on your computer, so your phone will sit nearby, neglected. Time will go by faster than you could have ever imagined because you’re suddenly overwhelmed with figuring out if you want to divide your style boards up by season or wondering just how many cute animal boards is too many.

If you’re lucky, you may even come across a DIY project you forgot you’d pinned and end up actually doing it.

it’s magic.

Her freshly manicured nails tapped quickly on her Mac keyboard. She sat, perched, bolt-upright at her desk. She always sat like that but this afternoon, she was more rigid, her shoulders tense. She was nervous as hell, but focused on her work. Her eyes pierced her computer screen, determined to finish this stupid email before…

Footsteps.

She reluctantly tore her eyes from her computer screen, losing her focus as her gaze fell on a group of musicians who’d just walked through the door. She smiled and greeted them from her desk.

The one closest to her was a bit scrawny; the hippy-type (not hipster) with thin, shaggy, dirty blonde hair. He looked like a country version of The Shaggy from Scooby-Doo, Where are You!(…yes, the 90’s cartoon). Recognizing her, he smiled and waved, the nervous confusion lifting from his kind, but otherwise goofy face.

Behind Shaggy, stood the rest of the band. A plump boy in a button down, with square glasses was holding his guitar case, and next to him a skinny girl with stringy hair held her violin case. But it was always the band’s drummer who always caught her eye.

They locked eyes and he smiled at her, maneuvering around the rest of the band to walk towards her desk as she stood up.

She could feel the heat begin to rise in the back of her neck, working towards her cheeks. She reminded herself to breathe as she grabbed her notebook and stuck her black ballpoint pen behind her ear. She rose gracefully from her seat (miraculously) and gave Shaggy and the rest of the band hugs. She introduced them to her coworkers, all sitting distracted around her before she led them to the recording studio.

She returned to her desk to work. Music and chatter omitted from the studio the rest of the afternoon. Her day was a blur; she was distracted. She blamed the noise but knew that was only a scapegoat.

She’d escaped those gorgeous, hazel eyes for quite some time but she knew, even before today, how much she’d missed him. Booking his band for a podcast wasn’t just a mutually beneficial career move. She felt like she’d needed an excuse – a real one – to talk to him again. She wanted – no, she needed – to know him better.

But the pit in her stomach all afternoon made her wish she hadn’t reached out. He got away; it happens, and she should have let it remain that way. She didn’t need to relive the heartache or feign friendship when she wanted more. She didn’t need to pretend he didn’t give her the most terrifying case of butterflies…

She worked extra hard (and got so much done) all afternoon in an attempt to distract herself. Regardless, her mind reeled, mulling over all of these things.

Then, he smiled at her, and the pit in her stomach lifted, and she was in his world. She believed in magic for that reason alone. It wasn’t a cliche spell or a potion; It was a trance. Experienced witchcraft. She should know the counter-curse…

But she didn’t.

Potions, crystals…there was nothing she could do to change the timing, and no one could fix that. Yet…she wanted to believe…by the look, the sparkle in his eyes, that she still had time. A chance. And somehow…

Tick.

The Latest Research Topic

“What do you mean, you have to ask her permission?!” I was flabbergasted.

“They’re friends,” he shrugged, as if that justified it. “How would you feel if I suddenly started dating your best friend?”

I shrugged. “I can’t control either of you. Date who you want.”

“…You wouldn’t be hurt?” He looked at me in disbelief, but furrowed his brow as if to imply he knew I was lying. I wasn’t.

“Why would I be?” I asked. “Maybe I’d be annoyed for a hot minute, but that’s it. Why would I let a guy come between 10 years of friendship? That’s dumb.”

“They’re doing the same thing,” he said simply. “Jess is just clearing it with Heather first.”

“But why?” I was like a two year-old.

“Like you just said; friends first.”

“Okay but it’s not like you were engaged or something,” I pressed. “Why is it such a big deal?”

“They’re being respectful,” he replied rolling his eyes.


Maybe I’m some sort of mutant woman or I’m crazy or maybe I just missed the lesson on Girl Code back in high school. Or I ignored it because I hate rules. Oh…that’s it, isn’t it? Selective memory…

Whatever it is, I’m completely fascinated…and you know what that means: Research.

…Because I’m the outgoing nerd girl who, if she doesn’t know much about something, absolutely must figure it out.

So, thanks to this exchange with my friend, I’m working on a new set of stories focused on sorority girls. If that intrigues you…stay tuned…

I didn’t mean to prolong this…

How a guy interacts with my friends speaks volumes to who he is. So. Do the opinions of my people matter? Meh. If they’re substantial (ie; he killed a cat and is probably going to escalate to serial murder, don’t date him). But how they interact with him as far as everyone’s personalities…that’s important. Maybe not a deal-breaker, but definitely on my list of things I look for in dates.

Most of my friends (including myself) have big personalities, so basically, it’s critical that whoever hangs out with us can handle their own. By that I refer not only to what they say and do, but also their liquor. Whether or not he can take a simple joke or heavy sarcasm speaks volumes to whether he and I are actually going to be compatible.

This guy my friends hated, Mr. Competitive, is likely one of the oddest people I’ve ever interact with “romantically.” I don’t mean like “quit eating the paste” odd, but that our chemistry was just really bizarre. Maybe it’s just me or maybe it’s because he just wanted a hook up, but our chemistry when we first met, without my friends around, was excellent. Not the best I’d ever had, but it existed.

Then we had a casual dinner party where he met a few of my friends. He was cool, charming even, and they liked him. I liked him.

I don’t really know what happened; if he got hit on the head or if he was just comfortable enough to show his true colors around me, but everything changed when we went out the following weekend. Maybe my friends and their crazy personalities intimidated him. Maybe he needed another drink. I don’t know.

But suddenly, he was insecure. And that’s a deal-breaker for me.

Insecurity is just not attractive on anyone. I think that, subconsciously, one of the main reasons I choose to hang out with my friends is because they’re all very sure of themselves. Some of them even borderline cocky. But on a spectrum, they’re far from insecure, as am I.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my moments. But it has taken me a long time to get to where I’m at and I’ve learned through experience that when I surround myself with people who are also insecure, it feeds my own insecurities instead of building me up.

While I do admire his willingness to be open about it, saying things like “everyone is going to look better in their swimsuits than me” is just annoying. I don’t like feeling obligated to boost someone’s ego. The fact that I’m speaking to you at all should be enough.

So, this annoyingly drawn out point is that, I didn’t lose interest because my friends didn’t like him. I lost interest because we simply weren’t compatible.

Schemes & Such

“Everything is a plot.”

“You’re so pessimistic,” she replied.

“Neither pessimistic, nor optimistic,” he said smugly. “Look it up. Second definition.”

Her eyes darted towards him with disdain as she pulled her phone out and Googled ‘define pessimistic.’ Her brows furrowed as she skimmed Webster’s definition.

“This is why I like hanging out with you.”

He smirked.

“Well then. I don’t have an agenda.” She merely rephrased. “I’ve had them in the past…a lot, with guys, actually…but not you. Friends don’t need to plot.”

It was true: It’s so much easier to be manipulative when you don’t give a fuck. She was currently enacting one of her most manipulative plans yet out of sheer boredom. It wasn’t Fitz she was plotting, though.

Sure, she found him interesting…but not in a way that caused her to scheme. Which was good. For both of them. She really just wanted friendship. She needed friendship. And she could never befriend someone dull.

And yet…

She certainly wasn’t interested in more than friendship with Matt, either. After all, she was far “too liberal” for him. Yawn. Whether or not that was a real issue was beyond her, but the conversation on the matter was offensive enough to eliminate the butterflies she’d previously felt for him. After all, things like that didn’t phase her; all that really mattered was that those she surrounded herself with were open-minded enough not to let things like politics and religion get the best of them.

Besides…he wasn’t her type at all.

She thought about plots and schemes and games…and she realized…she really just missed Jake.

Wow. That sucks.

Matt may have made her feel something surprising for the first time in a long time, but Jake…he was the first guy to like her for who she was in years…maybe ever. And she liked him because of who he was, and he was completely fascinating to her. He was respectful…but played the game almost too well…she never did lose interest.

Oh, and their chemistry…

“Drop everything,” she said to Fitz. “We need to plot.”

“Wait, I thought -“ he started. She held her hand up to stop him from continuing.

“Not with you, dummy.”

The confused look on his face remained.

“I still want him.”

“It’s been months…” replied Fitz.

“I know.”

“…How?” There was almost a pained expression on his face.

“I don’t know,” she said irritated. “I just do. I can’t get him out of my head.”

“Okay, I think this is something you need to enlist Izzy for.”

“No, I need male insight. Help me.”

The look on her face was so frightening, there was no way he could say no. She was determined. As much as she hated to play the game, she hated losing more.

And this game wasn’t over.

Do NOT Text Him #5

Watch another episode of House of Cards… consider a career in politics and get yourself a male Monica Lewinsky.

I’d actually never started House of Cards, but I’d been meaning to. So basically, this was just an excuse for me to binge yet another Netflix Original.

I can’t say the show has made a career in politics desirable to me…but watching Frank Underwood has definitely opened my eyes to something I value in a potential partner that I didn’t know how to put into words.

Power.

I have never been so attracted to a fictional character (with the exception of Chuck Bass, who shares the attribute) before. Sure, I’ve had my fictional crushes like any human being, but not like this. I mean, he’s not even physically attractive. But everything from the way he carries himself to how he talks…he’s an aphrodisiac.

His marriage (in spite of its roller coaster) is also fairly equal, at least until he – SPOILER ALERT – becomes  president. But even then, it’s still more balanced than even a regular relationship. It’s one of those things that I knew was important to me, but didn’t have the words to articulate it. I had no idea that this silly challenge would be so introspective, but hey. If nothing else, I’ve realized a few really cool things about myself and what I want.

Forget texting anyone; I want Francis Underwood.


It’s been a while since I blogged this, so if you’d like to read the original list of things to do instead of texting that a*hole, check out Elite Daily. If you’d like to go back through my experiences enacting this list, click here instead.