Ask Ally (Q and A Week 15)

Once again you guys asked me questions that I am probably not qualified to answer, but as always, I’m going to go ahead and answer them anyway.

Q: Do you know it is actually “cease and desist” not “cease to exist?”

A: Ummmm…. yeah. I am well aware. It was a play on words. However, if you want to keep sending me snotty emails, I’ll be happy to mail you a cease and desist letter. 🙂

NEXT!

Q: If you’re not interested in a man, how do you decline their offer to take you out?

A: I tell them I’m celibate. That usually makes them run for the hills and solves the problem.

If by chance they still want to take me out even after I tell them that, I usually give them a chance because they are obviously extremely interested in whatever I have to offer.

Kidding.

Kind of. 😉

But seriously, if I’m not interested in a man, I simply tell him. Politely, of course. Just as I expect men to be honest with me (although it is very painful at times) I appreciate the fact that they don’t waste my time. However, I will say that at this point in my life, unless you’re a complete douche bag or asshole, I will usually at least give you the courtesy of a first date because we never know who you’re going to hit it off with. Most of my long term relationships started with people that I had no idea had the potential to turn into something more than one night together. To be honest, now that I am older and a little wiser, my priorities are different. I’m certainly willing to embrace people and accept their flaws just as I am hoping they will embrace and accept my flaws. I have an idea of what I’m searching for in a man, but I’m definitely not sure what my happily ever after looks like, so I’m keeping an open mind.

Q: Do you follow any other blogs? If so? What ones are your favorite?

A: I follow and read a TON of blogs. My current two favorite are:

Swipinginreno.wordpress.com

It’s by an adorable single mother in Reno who is facing the same difficulties that I am facing in the dating world… except up in Reno instead of Las Vegas. She found my blog and it inspired her to write about her struggles so I am able to relate to so many of the issues and feelings that she writes about. Plus, she’s SO much less wordy than I am which makes them quick and easy reads unlike my entries that take four score and seven years to read and decipher because sometimes I just can’t.stop.typing. Sorry guys.

I also love a blog called:

InsomniaGirl.net

It’s ridiculous, but if you have any sense of humor at all, you’ll get a chuckle out of it just like I do.

Q: How did Poodle get the name Poodle?

A: I feel like I need to put it on record that the name Poodle was a complete joke. 4 1/2 years ago when Poodle and I first started dating, we had the worlds most brief conversation about nicknames. I grabbed the name Poodle out of nowhere for absolutely no reason at all and jokingly told him that I was going to call him that as a pet name.

For the record, I never called him Poodle during our relationship. Not even once.

Fast forward to 3 1/2 years later when I was writing my first blog post. You guys know… my “Sid” entry. I needed to reference Poodle but I didn’t know what to call him since I only called him by his name, Boo, or Babe. I had a flashback to the conversation 3 1/2 years previously where I jokingly nicknamed him Poodle so decided to call him that. Just so it is clear, when I originally wrote my first blog post, I truly didn’t think that more than 5 people would ever read that one blog entry, and I certainly didn’t think I would be writing anymore posts. However, here I am, almost a year later still writing, and my readers have multiplied by the thousands so I am in waaaayyy too deep to change Poodle’s name now. So like it or not, he’s stuck with it. Sorry Poodle.

I’m just thankful I never got that Poodle tattoo that I contemplated. 😉

Q: What is your worst habit?

A: Do you want them in alphabetical order or order of importance?

Kidding.

Kinda. 😉

Oh wait. I know what my worst habit is.

I sleep eat.

Last week when I was in New York with my mom, we woke up one morning. I stretched and told my mom “Good morning.” She looked at me and snarled. I was so confused. What in the world did I do? When we went to bed, we were on good terms. I asked my mom how she slept and she replied “I was sleeping well until someone was crunching through their snacks and crumpling paper so rudely at 3:30am. It was hard to fall back asleep after that.” I looked over at my nightstand and saw a package of empty fruit snacks and burst into laughter.

I forgot to tell my mom that I have this odd little habit of sleep eating.

For the last several years I randomly have mornings where I wake up to empty string cheese wrappers, fruit snacks, or empty bowls of cereal next to my nightstand with absolutely no recollection of how they got there. There’s never any rhyme or reason as to why I sleep eat on any given night. Sometimes I will do it four nights in a row and then I won’t do it for six months. It does make it incredibly hard to diet when Asleep Ally has completely different diet motives than Awake Ally though.

I can’t stop laughing because I imagine that the scenario between my mom and I was similar to how a woman reacts to her boyfriend when she wakes up after having a dream where he cheated on her. He has no idea why she’s mad, but she’s mad over the made up scenario. It was similar to how I had no idea why my mom was so irritated with me for sleep eating and being obnoxious about it because I had absolutely no recollection of it.

Q: How was New York? 

A: New York was amazing. It truly was the trip of a lifetime that I was fortunate enough to get to experience it all with my mom. We did everything. We saw everything. We bought everything. We ate everything. I don’t know if I will ever be able to have a trip like that with my mother again. Those memories that we made will be imprinted on my heart forever and I feel so fortunate to have been able to experience that with her. It truly was the trip of a lifetime and not because of what we saw, bought, or ate, but because I was able to experience that all with her. I really am beyond lucky to have those memories with my mom. So many people do not get to experience these types of things with their parents, so it is something I will treasure forever. Not to mention, my mom is a kick ass wing man. 😉

I don’t know if I could ever live in NYC full time, but going and experiencing NYC at Christmas is something that everyone should put on their bucket list. To be able to experience NYC at Christmas at least once in your lifetime is something someone should definitely aspire to do. It is absolutely magical and there is no other way that I can describe it. I will treasure this trip for as long as I live.

Xoxox,

Ally

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Modern Romance: Chapter Five

Originally I was going to write a part two to my chapter four post about the book Modern Romance by Aziz Ansari, but everything I wanted to write about the second half of the chapter were all points that I felt that I touched on in my part one post and I didn’t see a need to rehash them. So I’m just going to move on to chapter five. This one is a doozy, so buckle up.

This chapter talks about dating in other countries. Aziz and some of his super smart socialist friends took a trip to Tokyo, Japan as well as Buenos Aires, Argentina to look into the dating culture in these cities. Obviously he chose somewhere in Japan so that he could gorge himself on ramen and sushi which is exactly why I would choose Tokyo as well.

Kidding.

Kind of.

Aziz chose Tokyo because there is a huge crisis going on over there right now. Due to the younger generation’s lack of interest in sex, the government is ridiculously worried about Japan’s declining population. At the time this book was published, Japan was 222 out of 224 countries for birthrate. Yikes. I can see why the government would be a little bit concerned, but I’ll get to that in a minute. Right now I want to focus on the first point I made.

The younger generation in Tokyo has a complete lack on interest in sex. In fact, in a 2013 study that was done, 45% of women and 25% of men in Japan (ages 16-25) said they “despise sex.”

Despise sex?

I mean, I understand not being in the mood all of the time (Just kidding. I don’t understand that either.) but to say that you despise sex?

Me: …

Me: …

Me: …

I know exactly what you guys are thinking and I am here to tell you that I cannot comprehend that either. Not even a little bit.

Not only are the younger generations not interested in sex, they’re not all that interested in marriage either. In 1987, 49% of men were single and 39% of women were single. Those statistics have sky rocketed to 61% of men are still single and 49% of women are still single. One third of men and women 30 and under have never even dated anyone. Not that there is anything wrong with choosing not to date, but can you imagine being 30 years old and still never having your first date? That is such a foreign concept to our culture. I mean, I’m sure my parents would love it if I would have minded my business until I was 30, but I was chomping at the bit before I was even 16 years old to date. Sorry for all he numbers and statistics, but my jaw literally fell to the floor when I read and researched these.

The term used in Japan for men that are not only uninterested in sex, but dating all together is a Herbivore Man. You guys… 60% of men in their 20’s and 30’s in Tokyo describe themselves as Herbivore Men.

60%!!!

These poor women. As if it isn’t difficult enough to date, all of the single men out there are then cut into an even smaller statistic simply because they just don’t feel like dating or touching a woman.  What this statistic means is that if they lined up 10 single men for you to choose from, you would really only have four men to choose from. Ten men is not a lot of men, but I’m sure you could find some nice men to at least attempt a first date with. BUT WAIT! SIX out of those TEN men are too lazy or uninterested in women to want to date or touch you, so they’re going to go ahead and remove those six men. That leaves you with four men to choose from. That’s right. Four men. If we’re playing with these kinds of statistics, I might as well have married one of the three guys who grew up in a five mile radius of my house. At least they were all hot and might have wanted to have sex with me. *shrugs* As a single woman trying to navigate through the dating world in hopes to someday find my own happily ever after, all I can say is that this is complete bullshit if you ask me.

In Japan, if a guy approaches a woman at a club, he is called a “charai” which means he is a sleazy, playboy type. In America, I think it is safe to say our “charai’s” are known as f**kboys. However, I hate that term so I’m bringing the word Charai to America because I think it sounds so much more eloquent, don’t you? Okay, let’s rewind for a second. So a guy approaching a girl in a club to tell her she is beautiful and he would like to get to know her would be considered sleazy in their culture? Can you imagine the horror the Japanese culture would feel if they knew the ridiculous amount of unsolicited dick pictures we as single women receive before even meeting a man in person? They’d probably be almost as surprised as I was to learn that not only is it considered sleazy for a man to approach a woman in Japan, but even if they did approach a woman and she responds in a positive manner, they would think she’s a a floozy. Can you imagine?

Man: You look lovely tonight.

Woman: **He talked to me in a bar. He must be a charai, but he’s cute so I’m going to accept the compliment**

Woman: Thank you.

Man: **She responded. She’s a floozy. Abort mission immediately**

No wonder the dating culture is going down the drain over in Japan.

Also, in the Japanese culture, they think that putting a selfie as their profile photo on a dating website is narcissistic. They prefer to put pictures of their cats or rice cookers instead (Not kidding). At first, I didn’t understand this, but the more I thought about it, the more I decided I could totally hop on board with this one. I’d rather look at pictures of a bunch of cute dogs than random men. This thought process would also allow me to put a picture I took of my favorite queso dip as my dating profile picture. To be honest, I’ve kind of been waiting a long time to find the perfect use for that particular picture. Way to go on this one, Japan. I’m totally hopping on this bandwagon.

The government is so concerned about this lack of marriage and sex epidemic, that they have actually funded a $25 million dollar budget to aid programs that help the younger generations meet each other. They hold mixers and pay restaurants $25-$35 per seat to let younger people hang out there. I would kill to have this here in America. Not only do you get to go mingle with your friends, but you could potentially meet some hotties along the way? Come on! This is fantastic.

I’m sure you’re wondering how certain physical as well as emotional needs are met in Japan since there is such a lack in the sexual as well as dating culture there and I’m going to go ahead and tell you about a few solutions they have come up with. First of all, they have Cuddle Cafes. In these cafes you literally pay someone to cuddle with you with no sexual contact for as little or as long as you want. I personally think this is a brilliant idea. Except instead of cuddling with men, let’s do it with puppies. Any investors want to back this idea in America? Anyone? Well, I’m here if anyone wants to collaborate with me on this one. Japan also has what they call Host and Hostess clubs. The men and women who work in these clubs will sit with you and talk to you for as long as you would like. There is absolutely no sexual contact in these clubs either. It is strictly a place that men and woman can get the emotional attention they feel that they are lacking in their life. In these clubs they are catered to by having their cigarettes lit, attentive conversation, as well as singing karaoke with their host. It isn’t uncommon for a group of married men to hit up the Hostess Clubs on their way home from work. You know, kind of like it’s no big deal for us Las Vegans to swing by the strip club for a quick lap dance before picking up our kids from school.

Kidding.

Kind of. 😉

Since prostitution is illegal in Japan, the Japanese have come up with a much more enticing solution for physical touch at a place called Soapland. The concept behind Soapland is that they take a waterproof mattress, strip their clothes off, pour soapy water all over the man, wash him, and then slide all over each other’s naked bodies… but again, with no sexual contact. I’m all for this idea. It sounds like a blast. In fact, when I’m in a relationship, this is pretty much what a typical Tuesday night looks like for us at my house.

Not kidding. 😉

We are so accustom to the dating culture in America that we forget to think about how different it is in other countries. While Japan is widely known for lacking intimacy, Buenos Aires is at the complete opposite end of the spectrum and is known for oozing sexuality.

I want to start off by saying that I never, ever want to hear an American man say that American women play games because no one plays games like Argentinean woman do. I was fascinated to learn that in Buenos Aires, when a woman says “no” it is simply a “prelude to yes.” In America, no means no. End of story. If you don’t accept no for an answer in America, you might end up with a few criminal charges. In Buenos Aires, if a woman is not interested in a man, she simply ignores him completely. If she is into him, she will say no several times and play hard to get and then eventually give in and say yes. The women said that if they say yes to a man too quickly, they fear they will appear “easy.” The men will literally beg for women and tell them they love them the first night just to get them to say yes to a date… or whatever else they’re searching for. In fact, there’s a phrase they use down there that translates to “Lie to me because I like it.” I thought the Japanese dating culture was confusing, but I was even more confused with the dating culture in Buenos Aires.

In Buenos Aires, they compare dating to a BBQ. You have to constantly have your “main meat” on the grill, but then you always have other meats grilling at the same time for backup just in case anything goes wrong with their main meat.

Wait. What?

I mean, I guess as long as I’m the main meat, I’m alright with this concept. I’m just not trying to be the backup, side meat. You feel me on that one?

I guess this concept isn’t completely foreign in America because it isn’t unusual for men or women to have people they keep around. What is different is the fact that that in Buenos Aires, they sleep with all of their side meats and it is accepted by everyone because everyone is doing it. The men that women casually sleep with while they are in relationships are called “chongos.” In Buenos Aires, they even have hotels called “telos” to help embrace their sexual culture where people can rent rooms by the hour. Even if someone is in a relationship and meets someone at the bar that they could potentially be interested in, they will give them their number without a second thought because they always need to keep their options open.

I can actually feel the Expedia search for Buenos Aires travel accommodations rising right now. Not only do they have an extremely open sexual culture, but the fact that Argentinean people are known to be some of the most beautiful people in the world doesn’t hurt either.

Bottom line, don’t catch feelings in Japan because the men might not want anything to do with you emotionally or physically and don’t catch feelings in Buenos Aires because they’re just going to crush your soul by sleeping with other people behind your back in a hotel room that rents by the hour.

xoxox,
Ally

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My Worst Enemy

I just spent the past six days in New York City. It was not my first time visiting New York, but it was my first time visiting New York in about 20 years. It’s no secret that I have a terrible memory so I could barely remember a single detail about a city that I visited 20 years ago. I had no idea what to expect. All I knew was that I was going to have a lot of fun… and I did. I wasn’t expecting any stories to write about or to be inspired, but this trip produced oodles (That’s right. I just used the word oodles) of inspiration for me. One topic that I’ve dying to write about since the moment I stepped of the airplane is the men in New York City… particularly, Manhattan.

*gulps*

*starts sweating*

*fans herself vigorously*

I have never been surrounded by so many handsome, well dressed, kind, and direct men in my entire life. I’m sweating just thinking about it. If I ever hit the lottery, my first purchase would be an apartment in Manhattan.

The men in Manhattan are so handsome, well groomed, and well dressed. It truly didn’t matter if it was a Tuesday afternoon or a Sunday morning, 95% of the men were dressed to the nine’s. Of course because of the area that we were in, many of them were fancy shmancy business men so they were dressed in suits, but even the men working in the retail stores that we shopped at were dressed amazing. Since these men knew how sharp they looked, they oozed a confidence that I have never seen before. It was ridiculously attractive. Men in New York will also approach a woman without batting an eyelash. I can’t even tell you how many times I sat down in a lounge or at a posh bar in Manhattan and was approached within minutes by these men. Not all of them were hitting on me, but lucky for me, some of them were. *wink* Some of them would just be interested where this bright ass blonde bobble head came from and they would make casual conversation with me. I met a lot of incredible people on this particular trip.

A couple days into my trip, I had a few hours free during the afternoon. I was trying to write in my room, but it was far too quiet for me to think. I’ve become accustomed to writing with kids screaming in the background so I packed up my laptop and went down to the lobby hoping that a little background noise would be just what I needed to overcome my writers block. I had so many things I wanted to write about, but I had no idea where to start. This ridiculously lavish trip gave this poor little blogger a small taste of what it must feel like to be a Kardashian. That morning they closed down Bergdorf Goodman for us and we had a gorgeous brunch with live carolers as well as a private fashion show hosted by the Director of Fashion.

Okay. Hold on.

All I have to say is that I am way tackier than I thought because I only understood maybe one item of clothing that I saw strut down the runway that day. Call me crazy, but showing up in head to toe sequins (not kidding) or leopard pajamas with ostrich feather lining (also, not kidding) wouldn’t go over well at any of the places that I frequent here in Vegas. I guess this explains why I’m a silly little blogger and not the next Vera Wang.

After the fashion show, we spent the next several hours walking the streets of New York and doing a little shopping. By late afternoon when I had a little free time to write, I looked like hell. I was in a sweatshirt, jeans, and converse with messy wind blown hair, but I wasn’t quite ready to freshen up for dinner and I was determined to get some writing done for you guys. The lobby had an intimate setup with love seats facing each other surrounded by fireplaces. I sat down and almost instantly the words started coming to me. I was right. A little background noise was just what I needed to feel “in my zone.” I was in my own little world typing away so quickly that I didn’t notice an attractive, well dressed man waving at me. Finally I heard him clear his throat and say “Excuse me ma’am. Is anyone sitting here?” I shook my head no and looked back down at my laptop to start writing again because I didn’t want to lose my train of thought. Before I could finish that sentence I heard him say “You’re not going to charge me, are you?”

Okay. Hold on.

Now, I’m from Las Vegas, so when a man says “You’re not going to charge me, are you?” my first thought was “Oh my gosh. He thinks I’m a hooker? Dressed like this? Really?” I looked up to answer him and he had a huge smile on his face. I was relieved to know that he was kidding and that I wasn’t being mistaken for a hooker. I mean, I did grow up in Vegas so it certainly wouldn’t be the first time. *rolls eyes*

I smiled and quickly replied “For you, it’s on the house.” and then I looked back down at my computer. Before I could type another word, he reached his hand in front of my computer to shake my hand and introduced himself. I shook his hand and introduced myself as well. Then, once again, I looked down at my computer to start writing. He went and sat down across from me, ordered a tea, and then said “So Ally, where are you from and what are you doing over there?” At that point, I looked up at his handsome face, smiled, and I closed my laptop. It was very clear that this gentleman was not going to let me write and why would I want to? He was attractive and for some crazy reason he was obviously interested in whatever this hot mess was up to. I will admit that for 2.5 seconds, I was a little annoyed because I had actually been on a roll writing for the last hour or so, but he was so handsome and persistant and I finally thought to myself “What are you doing you psycho? Talk to him.” We talked for a while. It turns out he was from Pennsylvania, but lived in Manhattan and he was meeting a client of his who was staying at the same hotel that I was. We had a good little conversation. His client eventually showed up. They started their meeting and I went back to writing. Their meeting eventually ended and his client left and then his business partner showed up. He interrupted me again to introduce me to his business partner and then they continued talking amongst themselves. I had to use the restroom so I stood up, and so did the two men sitting across from me. I assumed they were leaving so I was surprised when I was walking back from the restroom and they were still sitting there. As soon as I entered the lobby, the two men stood up again. I sat down, and then they sat back down. I thought it was weird that they kept standing up. I typed a little bit more, then I got up to go grab some water from the bar and the men stood up again. Then as I walked over to the bar, they sat down. I was so confused. Was I in the middle of a game of musical chairs where no one actually moves chairs that I wasn’t aware of? When I came back with my water, they stood up again. I couldn’t let it go any longer. I looked at them and asked, “Are you guys leaving?” They both laughed and said “No. We always stand when a woman enters or leaves a room. It’s out of respect.”

My mind was blown.

I froze. I didn’t know how to respond to their kind gesture, so I just did what any sane, rational, intelligent, normal, regular girl would do, and I curtsied. I’m an idiot. I know. It made them laugh though. *shrugs*

Once I found out they were standing up on my behalf, I actually felt bad for getting up for the water. I guess I could have just waited for the cocktail server to come over, but I was super parched.

I told them that those type of manners were so unheard of these days, but I appreciated the gesture very much. As we talked, another couple sat down next to us and they overheard me mention that I was from Las Vegas. They chimed in because they used to live in Las Vegas. They live in Florida now, but they really want to move back to Las Vegas. We ended up knowing some of the same people from Las Vegas and our chatter kind of took over the conversation and the two business men started their own conversation. I was having a great time until I looked down at the time and realized I still looked like a train wreck and the car was picking us up for dinner in fifteen minutes. I quickly collected my things so that I could run upstairs and get ready. The two men once again and stood up when I did. I couldn’t help but laugh at their manners. He asked if I had a business card. I said “no” and then turned around and quickly ran upstairs. As I  threw myself together for dinner, I realized that was his way of showing interest in me. He was so cute and obviously knew how to treat and speak to a woman and I was such a hot mess that it didn’t even cross my mind that he could be interested in me in a romantic way. I was smacking myself for not saying “I don’t have a business card, but I do have a phone number.” When I went downstairs to catch the car for dinner, I did a quick sweep of the lobby to try to redeem myself with the charming business man, but the two men were gone. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I was so busy in my own little bubble that I didn’t even realize the attractive man across from me was hitting on me.

I started to think back to the past couple of years that I’ve been floating around the dating scene. Of course I’ve had a slew of bad dates, but I’ve also had a few good ones too. I thought about how many nice men I have met (and some that I never even had the chance to meet because I wrote them off too quickly for irrelevant reasons) that I have let slip right through my fingers because I was so caught up in whatever else was going on in my life. I thought about this topic a lot on my trip, actually.

For the rest of the trip, I tucked my laptop away. If a thought or something I wanted to write about came to mind, I made a quick note in my phone, but other than that I decided I need to be more present. Not just to all of the men in New York, but in Las Vegas as well. I’ve been so oblivious to so many things because I’ve been so busy being caught up in my own little world. A lot of the time, I was probably self sabotaging because deep down, I wasn’t quite ready to let someone new in because I was so terrified of having my heart broken. I had built up a wall so high around my heart that was impossible for anyone to get past. I was the only person who could knock that wall down and open my heart and mind to the idea of me having a real shot at love and happiness. What have I been so scared of? Having my heart broken? Why? I’ve had my heart broken before and I’m still here living, breathing, and doing just fine. After realizing how oblivious I have been, I made the executive decision from that day forward, I am going to be emotionally available.

I’m sure I will never see the attractive man in the lobby that stood every time I entered and exited the room, and I’m sure that he will probably never think about our interaction again. However his persistence and chivalry that day that I so carelessly ignored helped me realize that my own worst enemy has only been myself.

xoxox,
Ally

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Cease to Exist

After I wrote my post, Modern Romance: Chapter Four (Part 1) I had several people write me asking if I was just “picky” and if I am a “commitment phobe.” They were questioning if it is possible that I am always going to be looking for the “next best thing” because of a few things I wrote in that post. I explained in my last Q and A post that I don’t think I am picky nor a commitment phobe, but reading back over my post, I can definitely see how you guys could possibly think so. However, when I wrote in that post how the internet might have jaded us in the dating department because we have so many options at our fingertips that we might always be looking for the next best thing, I wasn’t talking about myself. It was food for thought for you guys to think about because it was something that had been on my mind for a while.

In my marriage, I stayed for a couple more years than I probably should have. I wasn’t happy and neither was he, but we had a life and a child together and I also had a stepson whom I loved and I felt a certain allegiance to him because his mother had passed away. I was determined to stay in my marriage regardless if I were happy or not in an attempt to make things work between my now ex-husband and I. Should I have left sooner than I did so that we could have both moved on with our lives? Maybe. However, I couldn’t walk away from my marriage without feeling that I had done everything that I could do to salvage our marriage… especially knowing how great our relationship was for the first couple of years that we were together. I begged my husband to go to couples counseling with me. He declined. I begged for my husband to attempt to make time for me like he used to. He declined. I begged for my husband to remember my birthday and our anniversary. That was too much work for him. He was beyond checked out, but I was hoping that if I stayed, he would eventually come around. He didn’t… well, not until long after I moved out and divorced him. Then, of course, he missed me.

In fact, the situation with Poodle was similar. Did Poodle and I exhaust our chances? Ummmm… yeah. In fact, every single time that I thought we had exhausted our chances, we found our way back into each others lives. Or as Poodle liked to remind me, we found our way back into each others beds.

The last time that things were cut off between Poodle and I, you would think that the person I loved sitting in front of me for what felt like the billionth time telling me that he no longer wished to speak to me would be enough for me to buzz off. Nope. Not this girl. Obviously, I am beyond persistent. After Poodle told me he no longer wanted to see me, I then proceeded to invite Poodle over the next day. Apparently, I loved how the first day of this heartbreaking breakup went so much that I wanted an encore. BUT WAIT! That wasn’t enough. That night, after I had sat through two grueling days of Poodle telling me to go away, my son had a baseball lesson in Poodle’s neck of the woods so I obviously did what any sane, rational, intelligent, normal, regular woman would do and I stopped by his house so that I could hear one last time how irrelevant I was in his life. BUT WAIT! That wasn’t enough either! After he sat in front of me not one, not two, but three times and told me he was finished with me, I then spent the next four days writing a 10 page handwritten letter professing my undying love for Poodle as well as all of the things that I wanted to do in order for he and I to work on any of our past issues.

To most people, I might sound like an absolute lunatic… and who knows? Maybe I am. However, I truly knew in my heart and in my mind that this had to be the absolute last time Poodle and I could do this with one another. I knew that I could never, ever allow myself feel this type of heartbreak compliments of him ever again. I knew that I had to go to any length to do whatever I felt that I needed to do in an attempt make things right between Poodle and I just in case there was a chance that we could salvage our relationship. I had to express my feelings to him even if Poodle didn’t feel the same. If I were really going to walk away from Poodle the very last time for real, I knew that I couldn’t leave anything left unsaid. I wanted him to know that I loved him unconditionally. I wanted him to know that regaurdless of our hardships, I saw a future with him. I wanted him to know that I saw forever with him and I wanted to do whatever it would take to make things right and have that happen. I didn’t care how crazy I sounded or looked. I mean, I’m sure even at some point Poodle thought “This bitch is relentless.” I didn’t care. I am who I am and I would not feel right walking away for what I knew had to be the absolute, very last time without me laying it all out there on the table. Pain must be a fetish of mine because I had to let Poodle reject me four separate times over a span of a few days for me to finally get the message. I’m starting to think that maybe Poodle wasn’t my addiction, but maybe the pain that Poodle was able to inflict on me was actually my addiction.

Kidding.

Kind of. 😉

Could the slate have ever been wiped clean between Poodle and I? Of course not. It would be ridiculously immature to think that anything negative that happened between Poodle and I over the span of 4 1/2 years would magically disappear. That can never happen. However, I loved him. I loved him so much. I overlooked his flaws, and at times, he overlooked mine too. To me, the magic that I felt when Poodle and I were together was worth fighting for regardless of our hardships, my flaws, and his flaws. So that’s exactly why I did what I did in both my marriage and my relationship with Poodle. I needed to exhaust all of my efforts no matter how crazy it sounds to outside people looking in. If I had to walk away, I wanted to walk away knowing I did whatever I could possibly do to salvage my marriage as well as whatever Poodle and I had. Did either relationship work out? Nah. Is that okay? Absolutely. At the end of the day, if the other person doesn’t want to put in the effort to make your relationship work or they don’t reciprocate your feelings,  there’s nothing you can do. I’m sorry. I know that hurts to hear because I have had to live that truth a million times over, but it’s true.

Did you hear me?

If the other person doesn’t want to put in the effort and/or doesn’t feel the same about you as you do them, there’s nothing you can do. End. Of. Story.

I also want to address really quickly the fact that whatever someone’s reasons are for not wanting to work things out with you are not any of your business. I promise you that nothing they could possibly tell you would make you feel any better. Did they meet someone else? Are you not attractive enough? Do you want the list of things you do that turn them off? Maybe they’re self sabotaging. Maybe they’re waiting for something better to come along. Maybe they hate the way you drink everything with a straw. Maybe they hate the fact that you belt musicals at the top of your lungs on road trips. Who knows and honestly, who cares? It literally doesn’t matter what on the face of the earth is going on in their head or why they no longer want to be with you. All I can tell you is that whoever or whatever they chose was worth losing you over. End. Of. Story. Something or someone else was worth walking away from you. What more could you possibly need to know? Put that shit to bed for good and move on. Never forget that one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.

I get asked a lot if I speak to all of my exes. The answer is no. I do not speak to all of my exes. However, I’m happy and at peace with all of them and I hope they feel the same about me. There is no point in me being angry, hurt, or upset at how other people made me feel because at the end of the day, I welcomed them into my life and I allowed them to make me feel that way. We control our own emotions. If you don’t want someone to be relevant in your life, make them irrelevant. If you don’t want someone to hurt you any longer, don’t invite them into your world. Trust me. I know you’re sitting there thinking “Easier said than done.” I’ve been there a billion times before but I promise you that once you make the conscious decision to no longer entertain any of that, it’s actually really easy. Being an adult sucks enough. We have so many grueling things everyday such as jobs, kids, errands, bills, cooking, and housework. Don’t waste your time holding onto anger, contention, or hard feelings for people who have made it crystal clear how they feel about you. Let it go, let them move on, and you go ahead and move on too, boo. If they didn’t want you… don’t you worry your pretty little head. Someone else will.

You just simply need to cease to exist.

xoxox,
Ally

PS If you click the “Follow” button on my home page, it will prompt you for your email address. By submitting it, you will receive an email each time I post a blog entry. Your email address will never be sold to a third party and the only emails you will ever receive from me are updates each time I post a blog entry. 😉

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Bad Boys

Leather jacket.
White t-shirt.
Pompadour haircut.
Well fit jeans.
Converse.

You know the type. The kind of guy that would sneak out of 6th period in high school to smoke a Marlboro Red underneath the bleachers.

I’ve had a weakness for bad boys since high school. In high school, I dated a really nice guy. He was kind, funny, adored me, and my parents absolutely loved him. All he wanted to do was love me and kiss the ground I walked on from the day I met him. So obviously I did what any sane, rational, intelligent, normal, regular girl would do and I abandoned him for the bad boy in school. That’s right. I traded in the guy who adored me for the naughty musician.

Storytime!

I’ve never wrote about my very first heartbreak.

I was raised in a religion where I was not allowed to date until I was sixteen years old. Obviously I broke those rules and dated the nice guy before I was sixteen, but my parents really liked him because he was such a nice and genuine person, so they semi-allowed it. They let him take me to prom even though I was technically not old enough to date yet. Not too long after his prom that he took me to, I was introduced by a mutual friend to a guy named Ricky, one of our school’s infamous bad boys. He was rugged, a musician in a local band, and NOTHING that my parents wanted me to date… so obviously, I did any sane, rational, intelligent, normal, regular girl would do and I dated him. I know I’m super sassy now, but I didn’t always used to be this aggressive. I actually used to be fairly reserved and quite. I was a theater nerd in high school which by the way, I am very proud of. I had the most amazing time in high school and I met so many incredible people and I am still friends with many of them today thanks to the internet and social media. However, I was never “popular” in high school. The fact that a popular bad boy would show interest in this quiet, reserved, short haired, blonde bobble head, was very flattering and definitely something that I wasn’t used to. Ricky was so unapologetically himself that I couldn’t help but be enamered by him. He said all of the right things to me, he acted like he adored me, and he was so different from anything I knew. The fact that he spoke Spanish fluently didn’t hurt either. 😉

I was hooked almost immediately.

We dated for several years. We went to all the school dances together. I adored (actually, I still adore) his mother who was incredible. She nicknamed me “Ojo” which means “eyes” in Spanish because she always said I had beautiful eyes. He was there for me as I constantly rebelled against my family who were never fans of him… but I was a fan of him and at that point in my life, he was all I needed to be happy. Things were never perfect, but I believed in us and I fought for us for years. I didn’t care what anyone said. I didn’t care what anyone thought. I loved him and that was the first time I had ever truly loved someone so it didn’t matter what I had to do in order for us to be together. I was going to be with him and fight for us as long as necessary…

…until one day when a rumor got back to me that one of my fellow theater friends had hooked up with Ricky. At first, I didn’t believe it. It couldn’t be true… right? He would never do that to me… right? I tried to push the rumor to the back of my mind, but I couldn’t seem to dismiss it because a small part of me knew that it could possibly be true. Even at the ripe age of  17 years old, my investigation skills were good enough to make any FBI agent envious. After a serious investigation, dozens of witnesses, and a shit ton of proof that couldn’t be denied, my theater friend ended up telling me the truth and admitting that she and Ricky did hook up. Shortly after her guilty plea, I asked Ricky if he had hooked up with my theater friend. Of course he denied it… but it was too late. I already knew the truth. For the first time in a few years, I stood my ground with Ricky and I didn’t back down. I told him I knew the truth and I wanted him to come clean with me. I deserved that. Eventually, he told me the truth.

Within moments, my tiny, naive, 17 year old world was turned upside down. The truth that I already knew had been confirmed by both parties.  That was the first real, raw, painful moment that I ever remember having. I think what made this heartbreak so painful was that 1) I was so naive that I never saw it coming and 2) I was so great to him in our relationship that I couldn’t comprehend how this could happen. I was so young and naive that I didn’t even know how to be bad. My love for him was so pure. In relationships since then, of course I have made mistakes and done things I wish I hadn’t done… but back then, at 17 years old, I didn’t know how to be bad, crazy, or cause any  trouble. The fact that I had been nothing but 100% myself with Ricky and that still wasn’t enough for him to stay faithful was a hard pill for me to swallow. I remember being so physically sick after I learned the truth that I threw up. It’s crazy how the mind and emotions work. Even well over a decade later, I am tearing up writing about this because I can still feel the pain that I felt at that moment, on that day. I even remember exactly where I was and what I was wearing when Ricky told me the truth.

I didn’t know what to do. How do you cope with your first heartbreak when you are so young and vulnerable and you have absolutely no life experience to go off of? The person that I had loved and adored for years had cheated on me with someone that I knew very well. I couldn’t go to my parents because they never liked him from the start and I wasn’t in the mood to hear “I told you so” and all of my friends were all mutual friends with either Ricky or the girl he had cheated on me with so how much sympathy were they really willing to give me? I was lost. So, I cut off all communication with everyone because that was the only way I could manage to deal with things.

Okay. Hold on.

Does any of this sound familiar from any of my previous blog posts? As I am writing this entry, I am realizing that my patterns in relationships as well as the way I deal with heartbreak is still the same, even well over a decade later. What a sad, but useful revelation.

Anyway…

After seeing and feeling my complete and utter devastation, Ricky felt bad. He really did. Even though he had cheated on me, he was ridiculously persistent in attempting to apologize to me in a desperate attempt to make things right. I ignored him. I didn’t know what to do or say. I was so young and dumb. I loved him so much and had given him so many years of my life… how could he do that to me? Let alone with someone that we both knew. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that she could not be the only person that he cheated on me with over all of those years that we spent dating each other. There was so much bad behavior that I had continuously overlooked and ignored over the years because at the end of the day… love is blind. I realized that I had to stop being naive. Looking back, the behavior that Poodle engulfed over our last two rendezvous together were very, very similar to how Ricky acted… however Poodle and I weren’t ever technically together, so if he were entertaining someone else it wasn’t cheating… right? I know that appearance wise I look unintelligent, but rest assured, I am very far from from that. What a fool I have been for so many years in so many different ways.

I finally responded to Ricky and told him I needed to know if he had cheated on me before with anyone else over the years that we had been together. I also told him that I wanted to know if I knew any of the other girls. I needed the truth. He responded and told me that the only way he would tell me the truth was if I agreed to see him since I had been avoiding him.

The last thing my naive and innocent heart wanted to do was look into the eyes of the first person in my life that I actually loved and face the fact that they deceived me and broke my heart, but for my piece of mind, I needed answers so I agreed to see him. We set up a time to meet at his house the next evening.

I remember parking my car in front of his house and taking several deep breaths preparing myself for the one or two other names that I was going to learn he had cheated on me with besides my theater friend. I knocked on his door, he opened it, and he handed me piece of paper. I opened up the piece of paper and my heart sank.

He had handed me a list.

Thats right. A list.

It was a Iist of the first names of every single girl that he had cheated on me with over the several years that we spent together. There were 24 names on that list. I’ll never forget that. I thought I was prepared for what I was going to experience that evening, but I was nowhere near prepared for that.

The worst part was that after Ricky handed me the list, he looked at me, said “I’m so sorry” and then closed the door. No hug. There was no empathy for the heartache that he had just thrown at me. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t even know how to begin to process the information that was just tossed to me. I stood in his doorway for a minute praying for him to open the door and tell me he was joking, but that never happened. It was true. I ran to my car, hopped in, and drove one street over so that I could cry in peace. I wasn’t capable of driving home at that point. I cried in front of a strangers house for at least two hours. The heartbreak that I felt that night was something so deep and so incredibly painful that it has taken me over a decade to sit down, type it out, and relive it.

I was angry with Ricky for years. I was angry at him for what he did to me and I was angry for what a fool he had made of me for so long. Come to find out, almost everyone knew Ricky was cheating on me for all of those years… well, everyone except me, of course.

Fortunately for me, time really does heal all wounds. I’ve grown up. Ricky has grown up. Although I never recieved the apology that I so desperately wanted from Ricky back then, he has apologized to me many times since then and I have more than forgiven him. This goes back to my Unanswered Prayers post. I remember praying day in and day out that Ricky and I would end up together. I remember the excruciating pain I felt when he handed me that list. However, today I am so beyond grateful that he and I didn’t work out no matter how hard I prayed back then that we would. We are two different people and our dreams, aspirations, and goals are still very different. It would have never worked out long term anyway.

Ricky was your typical bad boy, however, I am here to tell you that there isn’t a difference between bad boys and boys who are bad for you. Sometimes boys who are bad for you don’t have the typical bad boy appeal. Sometimes they wear button up shirts everyday, they’re college educated, they own their own cars and homes, and they look picture perfect on paper. Just because they don’t look like your typical “bad boy” doesn’t mean that they aren’t bad for you. Neither bad boys or boys who are bad for you are bad people (well, I mean, I suppose sometimes they are) but that is why it is imperative that you are self aware enough to know what’s good for you and what’s not good for you.

There’s always going to be a soft spot for your exes whether they’re bad boys or boys who are bad for you. It may take a while for you to get to a place where you are at peace with whatever happened in your past relationships, but that time will always come… I promise. No matter how bad someone wronged you, or no matter how badly you were hurt, there does come a time that it simply doesn’t hurt you anymore. It usually starts with you realizing that you don’t want to feel that pain any longer, so you are forced to change your patterns in order to move on. As the years go on, you eventually realize that you can no longer endure the pain that those bad boys or boys who are bad for you bring into your life and you make the conscious decision to move on from that stage in your life. The pain decreases every single day, but sometimes it takes years to make peace with your past. However, with every heartbreak that I have endured, something better has always come along, even if it was only temporary happiness. With that in mind, I can only hope to believe that whatever happiness is in store for me in the future is going to be far more amazing  than anything that I could have ever imagined and I. Can’t. Wait.

xoxox,
Ally

PS If you click the “Follow” button on my home page, it will prompt you for your email address. By submitting it, you will receive an email each time I post a blog entry. Your email address will never be sold to a third party and the only emails you will ever receive from me are updates each time I post a blog entry. 😉

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Ask Ally (Q and A Week 14)

Once again, you guys asked me questions that I am probably not qualified to answer, but as always, I am going to go ahead and answer them anyway.

Q: Do you still talk to Cowboy Casanova?

A: Absolutely not. The last time I heard from him was in April or May. He was drunk texting me around 8:00pm because he was coming into town the next day and I knew I had no desire to see him ever again so I blocked his number. I haven’t heard from him since.

I’ve wasted enough years of my life chasing men who only want me when they don’t have me and then once they have me, they no longer want me. I’ve grown out of that phase. Thank goodness.

Q: How do you write your wordy posts so quickly?

A: I don’t. lol

I don’t think the way that I write is normal… if there really even is a “normal” way to write. I actually write most of my posts by hand first which is probably unheard of in this day and age. After I hand write them, I write my blog posts in the “Notes” section of my iPhone which I also don’t think most professional writers do. I write them in my notes section so that I can switch back and forth between my laptop and my iPhone at any given time. I never know when a thought, idea, quote, or feeling is going to pop into a mind and have an impact on me. I don’t always have my laptop handy, but I always have my iphone with me, so writing my posts in my notes allows me to bounce back and forth easily… all compliments of the “cloud.” I usually have between one and two dozen partial posts going at a time that I go back and forth between. Sometimes I feel so strongly about something that I can write an entire post in one sitting, but most times, even if I sit down and write a post in one sitting, it’s something I’ve been thinking about and writing in my head for weeks. Sometimes I simply write down a quote or idea that sparked something inside me that I want to write about and I go back to it later after I’ve thought about it for a while and write a post. I also have a list of bomb ass blog titles that I have no idea what I’m going to write to go with them, but I’ll figure it out someday.

Could my posts be better? Of course. I could switch my major to Journalism so that I have better grammar, manners, and I could certainly curse less, but what fun would that be? I feel like my blog is a guilty pleasure. People reading my blog is just like my unhealthy addiction to binge watch every reality series on Bravo. Do I really care about rich women in a another city getting day drunk and fighting with each other over nothing? Nah. It’s irrelevant in my life. However, it’s fun to watch the train wreck unravel. No one wants to admit they read my blog, but my numbers prove that ya’ll are still reading so I’m going to keep writing. 😉

Q: Do you have any other advice to give us men to know if a girl is into us or not?

A: Look… I’m still single, so I really don’t know if I’m the best person to give advice on this topic. The one thing I can say is that there probably isn’t much of a difference between when a man is interested in a woman and a woman is interested in a man so think about the lengths you are willing to go to if you are interested in a woman.

If a woman is interested in you, she’ll text you. It doesn’t matter if you’ve text her or not. She’ll text you first, and she will repeat text you if necessary if she is into you. Also, I don’t care how busy she is, she’ll make time to see you. She’ll surrender plans, move things around, stay up late and miss out on sleep to see you. If you for one second have to question if she is in to you, I’m gonna be completely honest and let you know that she probably isn’t into you. If a girl is interested in you, she will let you know without any questions or reservations. No matter how attractive she is, busy she is, or desired she is, if you are a guy she wants to get to know, she will make that blatantly clear with her actions. If you are making excuses for any aspect of her behavior in the beginning stages of your developing relationship, I’m here to tell you that you’re probably just lying to yourself and she’s just not that into you. If she is into you, you’ll know. End of story.

Q: Do you really think you are insane or crazy? You mention it a lot.

A: No. I don’t think that I am really insane or crazy. That’s why I can joke about it.

Do we as women do crazy things when we are head over heels in love with someone? Yep. I can think of at least a dozen things I would never do when I am in my right frame of mind, but I might do them when I’m drunk and my drunk alter ego, Snooks, takes over. For the most part, girls aren’t crazy. Men just make us go temporarily crazy by their actions.

However, I do feel the need to point out that sometimes men’s actions are just reactions to us girls being crazy… so good luck figuring that one out.

Q: Why do you think “Foot Fetish Ally Stagg” is your number one blog post?

A: I don’t think that post has any relevance. As we all know, I wrote that post as a joke. I just think something in the mysterious world of Google algorithms somehow directs people to that particular blog post that I wrote when someone, somewhere in the world Googles “Foot fetish blogs.” lol

However, I didn’t know that Foot Fetishes were such a huge epidemic. If I would have known how popular my feet would be, I would have most certainly started a foot fetish blog as opposed to overwhelming you all with my bad dating decisions and heartbreak because that is not NEARLY as popular as my feet have been.

Q: After reading your most recent post, Modern Romance: Chapter 4 (Part One), it makes me think that you’re still single because you’re a commitment phobe who won’t settle down because you are always going to be looking for the next best thing.

A: *sigh*

Reading over my last post, I can see how you would think that. I mean, I take an hour to choose which head of lettuce I’m going to buy at the grocery store. I also had to make popsicle sticks to choose where Poodle and I were going to eat because neither of us could decide. I also take weeks to decide which series I’m going to binge next on my Apple TV because that is a huge commitment to me… but rest assured, I am very far from being a commitment phobe. I promise you.

I have zero problem with commitment. At this point in my life, before I commit to anyone, it is imperative that I make sure that this could potentially be “the real deal.” That doesn’t mean that I am going to “wife up” instantly. It just means that I’m a 30 something year old single mother with two children and a nosy ass family who will also be invested in our relationship. If I can’t picture a potential future with you, I’m not going to waste your time or mine.

Let me tell you something, I am on this planet to make ME happy.

I can honestly say that no matter what Poodle and I went through over our 4 1/2-ish years of back and forth, no matter what a single person in this entire universe thought about us and our relationship, I DIDN’T CARE. When he and I were together, I was happy and I didn’t care how much that pissed anyone else off. If he would have turned to me at almost any point in those 4 1/2 years and said “Screw it. Let’s be together.” I would have happily obliged. Would it have been a mistake? Maybe. But at that time, it didn’t matter to me because he made me happier than I ever could have imagined. More importantly, I could foresee a future with him for potentially forever. Other people might not have seen it, but I did. I had the upmost faith that he and I could battle through whatever came our way and that was all I needed to know to guarantee our forever happiness. If we were both honestly all in, forever, even after all the trials we had faced, I had no doubt that we could have lasted forever. So, no. I’m not scared of commitment, no matter how hard things might be. No one else can tell you what your happiness looks like. Only you can control that.

However, if you see a forever with someone and they clearly do not see a forever with you, all I can say is… move right along. There is absolutely no point in wasting one more second of your time on someone that you would do anything for if the feelings are not reciprocated.

My point being, no. I am not scared of commitment and if someone is standing in front of me that I feel could potentially be perfect for me, I will never dismiss them or keep them on the back burner simply because I am looking for something better. I am fairly certain at this point in my life what happiness looks like for me. My only hesitations with jumping into a relationship with someone would be because before I bring them into my awesomely crazy world, I want to make sure that I see a potential future with them. That’s all. If I ever have any hesitation with commitment, it’s not because I’m afraid that something better might be out there or that I have 500 other guys I am entertaining on the side. It’s strictly because I want to make sure that we could potentially be a long term, if not forever thing. I don’t introduce just anyone to my kids or my family and neither should you.

However, I do feel that there are people out there who dismiss someone that could be a “good match” for them simply because they will never be satisfied and they will always be looking for “the next best thing.” That was my intent behind my most recent post.

xoxox,
Ally

PS If you click the “Follow” button on my home page, it will prompt you for your email address. By submitting it, you will receive an email each time I post a blog entry. Your email address will never be sold to a third party and the only emails you will ever receive from me are updates each time I post a blog entry. 😉

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Modern Romance: Chapter Four

Chapter 4 in the book Modern Romance by Aziz Ansari is all about Choices and Options.

(Sidenote: My auto correct originally changed “options” to “potions” in the above sentence and I was a little tempted to run with that. Then I realized I don’t know anything about potions. But note to self to learn more about potions for a future blog post.)

I didn’t want to break this chapter up into two separate posts, but there was just too much good information for me to condense it into one post. Plus as we all know, I’m super wordy which makes it virtually impossible for me to shorten anything that I write.

I want to start by talking about arranged marriage. What an interesting concept… right? How arranged marriage would work was a man would meet with approximately three woman who were hand picked by his parents. The women were typically daughters of the parent’s neighbors. The young man would talk with each candidate for around thirty minutes and then he would decide which one he was going to marry. Typically, a week later they would get married.

I have to address a couple of concerns I have with this process.

First of all, as soon as I imagined my parents choosing a life partner for me, I almost had a heart attack and died. I thought about it for a minute and as I reflected back on my dating track record, I realized I haven’t done exactly the best job choosing mates for myself over the past decade. The more I thought about it, maybe they were onto something with the tradition of arranged marriages. I would personally still rather have my heart broken a billion more times or die alone than let my parents choose my life partner, but at the same time, I can appreciate the tradition of arranged marriages. That’s just never going to happen for me. Sorry mom and dad.

Second of all, I have a small issue with the thought of only meeting someone for 30 minutes and then marrying them a week later. I put SO much more thought into things that are SO much less important than the person that I am going to spend the rest of my life with.

For example, when I tell my children that we are going to the store to go grocery shopping, they literally want to die because they know what is about to happen. The amount of time and effort that I put into choosing the perfect produce items by far exceeds the 30 minute meeting appointment for these arranged marriages. I have to look at every single package of romaine lettuce in the entire grocery store and speak personally with the produce manager before I am able to commit to my final lettuce purchase. This habit is a little annoying because at the end of the day, I know that whatever lettuce I choose will just sit in the produce drawer in my fridge until it spoils. However, please believe that when I leave the grocery store, I am sure to have the freshest, best looking, lettuce that particular grocery store has in stock.

Another example of something I waste far too much time on, is the stereotypical female behavior that I fully admit I participate in. You know… the one where we are never able to choose which restaurant we would like to eat at. Every single time that I am asked to choose where I want to go eat, my palms get sweaty and my heart starts racing. With how nervous I get when I am asked to decide what I want to eat, you would think that I had been asked to choose what meal I would present and serve to Jesus if I single handedly hosted the last supper myself.

Besides, let’s face it. Even if I know exactly where and what I want to eat, I’m definitely not going to actually tell the guy. Where’s the fun in that?

Kidding. Kind of. 😉

Storytime!

When Poodle and I dated, between the two of us, our inability to choose where we were going to go out to eat was SO out of hand that I literally made us popsicle sticks to choose from. They were labeled yellow for quick places close to home, red for a little bit nicer restaurants kind of close to home, and the blue sticks were super fancy restaurants (most of them we hadn’t been to before) for our fancy date nights. You think this would have solved our problem, but it didn’t. We would end up pulling stick after stick, taking turns vetoing each stick for one reason or another. Eventually we made a rule that we would choose three sticks, then we would leave it up to my son to choose which of the three restaurants that we would be dining at. I want to throw it in there that us giving my son this type of power was by far one of the worst decisions Poodle and I ever made as a couple because my son has the WORST taste in food. My son puts BBQ sauce on his chicken marsala for crying out loud! However, letting my son decide where we were going to eat did make him feel special. It also took the heat off Poodle and I because we knew that even as two grown, mature, responsible adults, we were in no way, shape, or form capapble of making the decision as to where we were going to grab dinner.

Oh… and don’t even get me started on the incredibly obnoxious amount of time that I waste choosing which series I’m going to binge watch next on Hulu or Netflix after I’ve completed one series. After I finish mopping up the tears from the devastation I feel from concluding a 36 season, 45 episodes per season series, I spend weeks researching different series, asking friends and family for recommendations, and doing little sneak peeks of what series I could potentially dedicate a solid portion of my life to next. I can guarantee that I put in more time, effort, and research into which series I am going to watch next on Hulu or Netflix than I will put into my college dissertation. Mark my words.

I’m sure that you are starting to see how my little blonde bobble head is beyond baffled as to how someone could make such an important life decision such as marriage after spending only 30 minutes with a person that their parents chose for them. As you can imagine, this is an exceptionally hard concept for me to grasp considering it takes me almost an hour to choose the perfect head of lettuce from the produce department at my local supermarket.

Okay. Hold on.

I do have an adventurous and impulsive side to me so I have to admit that a small, tiny, little portion of me can’t help but think, “What if I went full on Britney Spears, married some random guy one night at a Las Vegas chapel, and then just hoped it worked?” Oh wait… I already kind of did that with my first husband. lol… but seriously though. *looks side to side* You guys… I literally had to make popsicle sticks with restaurant names on them so that Poodle and I could decide where we were going to eat, but a small part of me is actually willing to entertain the thought of a random shotgun wedding with a complete stranger one night and then just kind of hope it works out for the rest of my life.

But then again, I don’t really expect anything less from myself because I’m insane. *shrugs*

This chapter continued on, talking about how because of the internet we have so many options in the world of dating now. Most of the time, I think that all of these advancements in technology are helpful, but a small part of me can’t help but think that it almost makes dating more difficult because we are so overwhelmed with options. I think it is a wonderful thing that because of all of these advancements in technology I am able to meet my Prince Charming across the globe in Africa if I really wanted to. Reflecting back on Chapter 1 or 2 in this book (I can’t remember which one off the top of my head) Aziz talked about how back in the day most people would marry someone who grew up within a five mile radius of their childhood home. A small part of me can’t help but think how much easier my life would be if I had to choose my husband from the 3-5 men around my age that grew up within a five mile radius of my childhood home. Maybe I miss the simpler times a little bit… or at least the idea of the simpler times.

On the flip side, if those 3-5 guys that grew up within a five mile radius of my childhood home only had me and maybe a couple other girls that lived within a five mile radius of their childhood home to choose from as their wife, how much easier would that be for me? I’m average looking, with an average (at best) body, and I’m pretty sassy. If a guy only had 3-5 girls to choose from, that could certainly make me look a lot more appealing than I actually am. Nowadays, It definitely works against me that any guy in the entire world that I am interested in can log onto the internet and find any girl in the world within seconds. I just really can’t compete with all of those fit tea models on Instagram.

Just kidding. I’m awesome and I’m going to make a damn good wife to someone, someday. Although I’m a horrific cook, I more than make up for my lack of kitchen skills in other, much more appealing and satisfying ways…

…such as doing the laundry and actually folding it and putting it away right when I’m finished with it. Come on now, you perverts. Get your heads out of the gutter. 😉

But seriously. There are so many dating options for both men and woman and it is beyond overwhelming at times. I can’t help but wonder that with all of the easily accessible dating options brought to us compliments of the internet, has it jaded some of us in a way? Has having billions of men or woman right at our fingertips made our search for our “perfect person” almost unobtainable because no matter how wonderful someone we meet may be, are we always going to be wondering if we are just one click away from finding someone better suited and even more perfect for us?

What do you guys think?

xoxox,
Ally

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She’s Just Not That Into You

After my post yesterday, I received a message from one of my readers. He politely asked me if he could ask me a few questions regarding my most recent post and I happily obliged.

This gentleman proceeded to ask me if I dismissed the doctor who “had his life together and there was nothing wrong with him simply because I felt as if it were easier for me to date ‘lesser’ men who were assholes to me to justify me running away.”

*takes a deep breath*

Whoa.

I seriously don’t know how could my blog post be so misconstrued, but he had such a strong opinion about this, that I feel the need to clarify.

First of all, I want to make it clear that 99% of the men that I write about in this blog who were complete assholes to me on our date were the most perfect men you could imagine… on paper. They were educated, usually with Masters or PhD’s. They were ridiculously wealthy with incredible jobs. They were good looking and well dressed because they had the money to take care of themselves. They had amazing homes and cars. They were smart, so they could usually reel me in with witty banter and good conversation. They all seemed great… until I actually had to meet their cocky ass in person and had to sit through a grueling date with them. Although they seemed great on paper, they had other issues and were a mess in different ways.

The answer is NO. I absolutely in no way feel like I dismiss men because I am “less than” them. On paper, I may be less than them, but in life, maturity, and human decency, I am here to tell you that I am MUCH MORE than they could ever imagine being. Most of them are egotistical, rich, narcissistic assholes and I would rather live in a dumpster with my two kids and shop at Walmart than pretend for even two second that I could tolerate their shit just so that I can get a free meal or a pair of Louboutins. Some girls are willing to tolerate that type of ridiculous behavior to get things they want, but not me.

Storytime!

Many years ago, there was a man who was working a full time job and was taking classes on his lunch break to complete his Masters in accounting. He took a 12:00 class that was a few hours long, but he couldn’t always be present in class if his job required him to work through lunch. He sat by himself in the back and there was a group of three girls and a guy that sat in front of him. At the end of the semester, before the final exam, one of the girls turned around to this man and said “Hey… you better not be cheating off of our tests because you’re never here.” The man shrugged them off and thought to himself “Well thanks for taking the time to notice that I’m never here.” and they all carried on with the exam. The next time they came to class, the professor wrote the scores on the chalkboard. The three girls and the guy received a “C” on the exam. The man behind them received an “A” which also happened to be the highest score in class. The man leaned over to the snarky girl who had made a comment to him in the previous class and said “Gee. Good thing I didn’t cheat off your exam, huh?”

Well, that snarky girl happens to be my mother and the snarky guy behind her happens to be my father. My parents have literally been giving each other #clapbacks since the day they met. A billion years later, they’re still together and I am one of the sassy little spawn that was created somewhere along the way. So just in case you were wondering where my loud, opinionated, sassy little mouth came from… there you go. This sass was literally tattooed onto my DNA thanks to both of my hilariously mouthy parents whom I adore and admire very much, for very many reasons.

Now, let me give you gentleman a little bit of advice. I know this may sting a little bit, but just as I have had to face the truth, you all are going to have to face the truth right now.

A woman will never dismiss you because she feels “less than” you.

Did you hear me?

A WOMAN WILL NEVER DISMISS YOU BECAUSE SHE FEELS LESS THAN YOU.

I know guys will do that because they feel immasculated, but a woman will never do that. If she tells you that, she’s lying. Also, if you believe what she is telling you, you’re just lying to yourself and… sorry bro. You’re just going to end up looking ridiculous because she’s just not that into you.

If a woman is into you and she feels “less than” you, two things will happen. 1) She will admit she is a mess, apologize, and hope that you care about her enough to be sympathetic to her situation while she tries to piece her life back together and 2) She will actually take action to piece her life back together because you inspire her to be a better person and she will want to have a better life for not only herself, but for the both of you.

I know it sucks to face these truths. Believe me when I tell you that NOBODY understands how you are feeling by facing these truths more than I do. I have ignored “He’s just not that into you” signs for probably the past decade of my life. I’ve made excuses for people’s behavior and I’ve told myself lies to excuse their behavior because I so badly wanted to believe that the reality that existed in my head was actually reality… when it never really was. I was completely delusional.

This reader proceeded to ask me that if I didn’t feel “less than” these men, did I pick people because I viewed them as “projects” to me.

*sigh*

No.

No, I don’t.

The last time I did a project was my 6th grade science fair project, okay? I’m not sure what I have wrote that makes you think that I choose men to be “projects” but rest assured that I do not have the energy to “fix” anyone. Nor am I in any mood to be “fixed” by any man. If we don’t jive, we can both tip our hats, say goodbye, and go our separate ways. The end.

If an attractive girl who doesn’t have her shit together “dismisses you” she’s just not that into you. You’re not a project. I’m sure that you are great and you could not have done anything different. She just does not want to be with you. As I said in my previous post (Please see Unanswered Prayers) it might not have anything to do with you. It could be her own issues… but at the end of the day, she didn’t want to be with you for whatever reason. What else do you really need to know? Do you really want to know the truth anyway? Would you really rather have her tell you that you’re not attractive enough, or you don’t make enough money, or that she’s still in love with her ex? Does it really matter? At the end of the day, she chose someone or something else over you. The end.

During this semi-offensive conversation, this reader did bring up a good point.

How much as people are we willing to tolerate and does the amount that we tolerate depend on our age?

I can tell you from experience that when you are truly head over heels, reach for the stars, over the moon, world series kind of stuff in love someone, there isn’t ANYTHING that you won’t tolerate. End. of. story.

There are always two sides to every story. I am here to tell you that I have had my heart torn out of my chest, stomped on, and then left on the side of the highway for years, unattended that I had to search for, find, and place back into my chest. That’s a glamorous version of the pain I have felt. Regardless of what I have been through, I have still overlooked and forgiven people for things that they have done to me because at the end of the day, I have had to admit and accept that the way I acted affected their reactions. You can’t place the blame on people without accepting responsibility yourself. When you truly love someone with all of your heart and soul, with no expectations or reservations, you would do anything to be with them and more importantly, you would do anything to make them happy because when you truly love someone, their happiness is your happiness. That’s it. You’ll tolerate anything. Is it healthy, probably not… but the heart is a wicked thing sometimes.

I was asked that if “using the wrong fork guy” would have had a different impact in my life now, as oppsed to six months ago. Let me just clarify that I have never actually wrote someone off for using the wrong fork. I was simply making a point that people write other people off for stupid reasons and its not the other person’s fault. They should never take it personal because sometimes people are simply emotionally unavailable and there is nothing you can do to change the situation. Approaching someone six months after they rejected you could end in one of two ways. 1) They will ignore you because they weren’t into you in the first place and you will just look creepy randomly trying to approach them agin six months later or 2) They might be in a desperate enough place to entertain you. Neither place is a fun place.

Take my advice. If you mean something to someone and they care, they will contact you. Stop contacting them. End of story. Stop making excuses for their behavior and stop being the 6th string cornerback who gets minimal (if any) play time all at the coaches (their) disgression. You just look pathetic and desperate. I’m not trying to offend anyone, I just know, because I have been that pathetic person for years. It takes one to know one, people.

xoxox,
Ally

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Unanswered Prayers

Let’s just get it out there. Rejection sucks. I don’t care if it’s rejection from work, school, family, or relationships. No matter what type of rejection it is, it never, ever feels good.

In my humble opinion, there are two types of rejection. Intentional rejection and unintentional rejection. I want to preface this post by stating that neither type of rejection is bad or wrong. Let me explain my train of thought.

The last time that Poodle cut things off with me, that was intentional rejection.

As I stated before, the entire interaction was painful. For two days straight, I had to sit across from the person I loved as they told me that everything between us had been “superficial” and that the only reason we ever find our way back into each others lives is because we “find our way into each others beds.”

Ouch.

In hopes that Poodle was just being impulsive and did not really want to me out of his life for good, I spent four days pouring my heart and soul into a letter that I mailed to him. I was hoping that he was just going through some personal issues and I was getting the brunt of them which tends to happen when you’re close to someone. I am 150% guilty of taking out personal issues I had in the past on him. It’s never right, but it happens. In my letter I expressed how I felt about him and all of the things I wanted to do in order to make us work. I’m not the best at verbal communication, especially since I was very caught off guard by his dismissal of me and in all fairness, in those six months, we never talked about having a future together. I didn’t feel as if I had the opportunity to really tell him how I felt about him because in those six months, we were both just kind of on cruise control. Before he walked away for the last time, I really needed him to know how much I cared about him. I spent several days writing and rewriting a letter to him. I wanted every sentence to be perfect. It was raw, honest, and pretty long. At the end, I told him that if he didn’t feel the same, he didn’t need to respond, but if there were any chance that he did feel the same way that I did, to please let me know.

He never responded.

Ouch. Actually, ouch isn’t a big enough adjective to explain the pain I felt but I don’t have a better adjective so ouch will have to suffice.

However, the more I have thought about it, I should have known better. Poodle is by no means an impulsive person. Everything he does is very well thought out. Him telling me that we were through was not something that he woke up one day and decided he was going to drive over to my house and do. I can almost guarentee that he thought about it for weeks before pulling the trigger. I think that’s what made it sting a little bit more. It’s not like he was upset with me and impulsively called things off. The fact that he thought about it for weeks and still came to the conclusion that he no longer wanted to be a part of my life definitely hurt.

Poodles rejection was intentional rejection.

A year and a half ago, I met a doctor on an online dating site. We chatted for a while and he was a very nice guy. We eventually went on a date and we had a great time. He was kind, a stand up guy, and a true gentleman. I couldn’t find anything wrong with him.

So I did what any sane, rational, intelligent, normal, regular woman would do and I never spoke to him again.

He text me a few times, nothing crazy or stalkerish though, and I just never responded. I was going through some personal things and more importantly, without realizing it, I was completely emotionally unavailable. Even a year and a half after mine and Poodle’s breakup, no matter how much I convinced myself I was fine and ready to date, I wasn’t. It was easy to go on dates with men who were assholes to me because it made me feel justified in being single. It also eventually inspired me to write this blog where I could publicly, but anonymously, shame all of these men. What was difficult for me was going on dates with nice men. Men who had great jobs, were kind, thoughtful, and wanted to adore me, made me run for the hills. I.E. this Doctor that I’m writing about and even Chicken Hand, just to name a couple. Obviously everything works out for a reason. Chicken Hand has a beautiful girlfriend and adorable child now so we clearly weren’t supposed to end up together, but I certainly pushed him away without ever giving him a real chance. Looking back, if someone could have potentially been a good match for me, I RAN. At the time, I would come up with what I now realize were lame excuses as to why I didn’t want to see them again. Even if they were perfect, I’d find some excuse not to speak to them anymore. However, the truth was, there wasn’t anything wrong with them. There were just a lot of things wrong with me. I’m not saying any of these guys and I would have worked out. I’m just saying that I rejected them because of issues I had with myself, not because they did or said a single thing wrong.

This is unintentional rejection.

Although these men didn’t do anything wrong, I am sure that my behavior made them feel as if they did and I truly feel bad that my actions may have hurt their feelings. Luckily, the Doctor was NOT going to let me off the hook. Every few months I would receive a well written and thought out text from him asking how I could possibly have the nerve to write about men who had walked out on a date with me, but I couldn’t even give him a reason as to why I disappeared.

Obviously I did what any sane, rational, intelligent, normal, regular woman would do and I ignored those well written texts for months and months because I had no justification for my absence and I was embarrassed to admit that it was all of my personal issues.

It truly was me, not him.

He deserved an answer. He didn’t do anything wrong. I was finally mature enough to explain that I was going through some personal stuff and that was why I was absent. He was kind enough to forgive me. He even offered to mail me a birthday gift he had got me in Ireland for my birthday a year and a half ago. His kindness and willingness to forgive me for completely blowing him off because off all of the emotional garbage I was rummaging through at the time made me feel even worse for what an asshole I was to him. He never asked for details or an explanation, he just said he was sorry for whatever I was going through and that he was there if I needed anything. He still texts me randomly to just say hi or check in. Ugh. I seriously hope he finds the nicest girl in the world because he certainly deserves so much better than an emotional train wreck like me.

The point I want to make in this post is that rejection is never wrong.

Poodle’s well thought out and intentional rejection towards me hurt like a bitch, but at the end of the day, I’m so thankful for him letting me know how he felt when he did as opposed to a a year later or four years later. As painful as it was, I’m beyond grateful that since he saw me as nothing more than a friend with benefits, he was honest with me and told me to get lost. At the end of the day, whoever had popped into his life or whatever was going on in his life more important to him than keeping me around and that was all I needed to know. It doesn’t matter who or what it was. It was worth walking away from me and that has made it beyond easy to finally say goodbye.

On the flip side, if you’ve been rejected by someone and you can’t seem to figure out why, don’t stress it. It doesn’t matter what the reason is. It could be completely unrelated to you. It could be things that they were going through in their life or it could have been because you used the wrong fork to eat your salad on a date. Either way, if you weren’t worth it to them, move right along. You should never have to spend you life begging for someones love or vying for their attention. Someone who wants to be with you will move mountains to be with you. End. Of. Story. Please don’t accept anything less. You’ll only be selling yourself short.

There’s a song by Garth Brooks called Unanswered Prayers. I can remember listening to it when I was little. I liked the song, but I never understood the meaning of the song. The older I get, the more I have come to appreciate this song. In the song, he talks about someone that he loved and how he would pray to God every night that they could be together, but it never happened. Now he is older, married to someone he loves even more than he ever could have imagined, and he thanks God for not answering his prayers to be with the first woman.

I know that sometimes it is hard to see past heartbreak and rejection and imagine your life without certain people in it. I have spent hundreds of sleepless nights bawling my eyes out, hoping that certain people would stick around because I just couldn’t imagine my life without them. However, this song gives me hope that although there are some people that we couldn’t imagine our lives without, even though God may not grant our hundreds of requests to place them back in our lives, that just means that he is preparing us for something bigger and greater.

If you can love someone so much that you would do anything to be with them, but they do not reciprocate your feelings and you are disposable to them, don’t sweat it. Can you even imagine how amazing it would be to feel that same exact way about someone else and actually have that person reciprocate your feelings? I can’t even imagine how incredible that would feel, but I’m certainly beyond ready to find that kind of love and happiness.

I can’t wait.

xoxox,
Ally

PS If you click the “Follow” button on my home page, it will prompt you for your email address. By submitting it, you will receive an email each time I post a blog entry. Your email address will never be sold to a third party and the only emails you will ever receive from me are updates each time I post a blog entry. 😉

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Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind: But Ally’s way though

Last week I watched the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind for the first time in over a decade.

Okay, okay, okay. I watched it twice.

Okay, okay, okay. Truth. I had to watch it five different times to get through it all because I’m old and I fall asleep 10 minutes into every movie, every time.

It’s a great movie. If you’ve never watched it, I highly recommend it.

Without giving away too much information about the movie, the basis is that two people date, their relationship becomes stagnant, and they both go to a doctor who can erase people from their memory. If you want to know the rest, you’ll have to watch the movie.

If you’ve ever been through a breakup and had your heart truly broken, I’m sure at one point or another you have wished that you could completely erase someone from your memory in hopes that would make your heartache disappear.

Unfortunately, we can’t do that…yet.

While I’m on the subject, can any of my doctor friends find out a way to erase people from our memory? You would make a serious financial killing doing this.

Anyway…

The mind is a very fascinating thing if you really think about it.

If you don’t know me, I’m here to tell you that I have the worst memory of all time ever. I can rarely remember what I had for breakfast, let alone what I wore the day before. However somehow, my memory has seemed to capture a billion memories from past relationships that play in my head over and over at the worst possible times. I can’t even begin to tell you how many sleepless nights I have spent replaying memories that I don’t want to replay, crying, and just praying that I would wake up the next morning and forget all of them. It’s funny to me that I can’t remember what time my son’s baseball practice is or what size shoe my daughter wears without double checking the pair of shoes that she has on. However, I am able to recall certain lighting from certain moments with certain people. I could explain to you in great detail the look they gave me, what we were wearing, and exactly where we were. More importantly, I could explain to you how the lighting, looks, actions, mood, clothing, scents, and conversations made me feel.

WHY IS THAT?

How does my mind dismiss what should be considered important information, but I can somehow get so lost in memories that should be completely irrelevant to me at this point in my life?

Sometimes my memory feels like another form of unfair torture.

For the past couple of weeks, all I have been able to think about is how I could fix my memory, hence why I decided to watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind again after not seeing it for over a decade. Eventually I realized that unfortunately there is no doctor that I can see that can map out all of the memories that I so badly want to forget and erase them in my sleep so I knew that I was going to have to be creative. I spent days racking my brain as to how I could simply get rid of every memory that I no longer want to remember anymore and suddenly, it dawned on me.

I could Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind myself, but my way though, of course.

Last week, I spent some time undoing every memory I had created with my exes. Of course It’s impossible to undo years worth of memories, but I did the best I could. There were a handful of activities that I was petrified to participate in and places that I was terrified to go to because they reminded me of certain exes.

But why? What was I afraid of? Running into an ex? Even if I do run into an ex, so what? What was I scared of? Seeing them? Why? I can already tell you exactly how it would go. We would literally walk past each other like we don’t know the other person exists just like I would walk past anyone else in this world and it would be fine and we would carry on with our lives. Was I scared of seeing one of my exes with another girl? Why? Isn’t that what happens when people break up? You both move on and date other people? So what was I so terrified of? I couldn’t come up with any explanation so I decided to do the only thing I could think to do. I spent the past week undoing all of the memories that I had made with all of my exes by doing activities we used to do and going to places that reminded me of them… and I did it all alone.

I went to restaurants that we went to, blackjack tables we played at, and bingo halls we visited. I made new memories to replace all of the old memories. At first, I was a little shy because I felt awkward about my entire “mission.” However the longer I sat at each place, I realized that I wasn’t going to accomplish anything or create any new memories by sitting in a corner alone, so I snapped out of it and really put myself out there. I made conversation with strangers, ordered things I typically wouldn’t have ordered, sat next to people I might not have sat next to, asked questions I would normally be too shy to ask, and I made new friends. I made my own new memories at all of our old places.

I know that to some doing so may seem a little unnecessary and silly, but it was actually very liberating and it did bring me a lot of peace.

Of course I can’t actually physically or mentally erase any memories that I have, but now, all of the places I was scared to visit because my last memory there used to be with an ex have now been replaced with new memories with interesting people and new friends.

Once I finished phase one of Ally’s Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, I came home and I realized I needed to face phase two.

The “stuff.”

The gifts. The letters. The cards. The photos. The movie stubs. The concert tickets. Just… everything. How do you move on with all of those reminders?

Of course my gut reaction was to do what any sane, rational, intelligent, normal, regular woman would do… throw every single thing away.

I couldn’t do that. 1) I really liked all of my gifts 2) I know a lot of thought went into those gifts because they were all things I truly adored whether it was my Louboutins or my Nautical themed tote bag from Mesquite. 3) Wearing shoes or jewelry that were bought for me by an ex didn’t ever make me think of that ex because they were all things I really loved and would have bought for myself anyway.

However, there was one thing that was bothering me. The cards and letters.

In one of my posts a while back, I talked about how I used to have this cruel, irrational form of torture for myself where I would keep a box of every single letter and card that Poodle ever wrote me in my room. I would occasionally read through them and bawl my eyes out for hours thinking about the love we once had.

Well, the love I delusionally thought we had.

Eventually, I matured a little bit and I decided it was best to tuck those memories away into a plastic bin in the depths of my garage.

But wait… why?

Why was I saving those? Why would I ever want to read through those cards and letters ever again? Every time I read them, I bawled my eyes out and felt a tremendous amount of pain. More importantly, I’m not with him anymore. So why was I saving them? What purpose were those cards and letters tucked away in my garage serving in my life?

The answer is none. They literally served no purpose in my life and anything that was in those cards and letters is completely irrelevant in my life now. Besides, I can guarantee that the last thing any man in my future wants to stumble across years from now is letters or cards I saved from my ex.

So, I did what any sane, rational, intelligent, normal, regular woman would do and I took all of the cards, letters, photos, caricature pictures, and ticket stubs out of the plastic container in my garage, transferred them into a cardboard box, and I threw them all away in my trash can.

Then, a few hours later, I did what any sane, rational, intelligent, normal, regular woman would do and I went back and removed the cardboard box from the trash can and transferred them to the recycling bin because all of those things were recyclable and I seriously do care about mother earth.

Then, I went back a few hours later and I did what any sane, rational, intelligent, normal, regular woman would do and I removed the cardboard box from the recycling bin and placed it on my garage floor next to the recycling bin because I wasn’t sure I was ready to say goodbye to all of those items just yet.

I honestly can’t think of any reason to keep them anymore, but I also don’t want to be impulsive and get rid of them all if for some reason in 30 years they will serve a purpose in my life.

What do you guys think? Is there a need to keep them? Or should I just politely say goodbye to all of my paper belongings so that they can be recycled into a cute Kate Spade note pad? Idk.

Besides… trash and recycling day isn’t until Tuesday. *shrugs*

xoxox,
Ally

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