Morning Commute Reflection

Okay, forewarning, I wrote this entire post in my head while driving to work this morning, so I'll go ahead and ask you to excuse my slight awe-shocked humble brag post. Its also about to get more spiritual than I usually am. So just bear with me. Or don't, your choice.

I was listening to my husband's Pandora One account (cuz I'm cheap and just stole his login information), driving along my normal morning commute, looking at all of the cars in my rear view mirror. I'm not exactly sure what triggered it, but there I sat, looking at the highway realizing that I've been in this routine for what will be two years at the end of this month. Part of me feels like it was yesterday, most of me feels like it was surely a decade ago.

See, two years ago, I gave up. I was fed up with my life in general. I was burnt out on dating one dead-end after another, I was exhausted with the early 20s almost-adult-but-kind-of-college-kid weekends, I was physically and emotionally done with my crap-tastic job. I was just over my entire life and wasn't sure what to do next. (PS. I have come to learn since then, this is apparently a semi-common thing amongst almost adults, so hey, if this sounds familiar, you're not alone.)

I needed a change in a big way. After Christmas that year, my best friend Catherine and I decided to set out on a path-seeking journey, mostly lead by determining if our faith that we grew up with was really ours or if it was just passed down to us. We began by doing a Bible study on the Psalms. I remember laying awake at night reading David's pleas with God thinking, "Well he understands." Which is really funny to me, because his problems were a wee bit bigger than my "woe is me, what do I do with my little insignificant life?" The only giant I was facing was a big ol' case of situational depression. Life sucked. That's all there was to it. 

Each night I read a psalm and would pray, thanking God for everything He'd given me and asking for His continued blessings in my life. I'd ask Him to help me find my path in life, to lead me in His direction. And holy moly, He did.

I remember sitting at my retarded cubicle in the middle of a sea of insignificance and just deciding I'd had enough. I didn't need to wait for something, or someone, to come along for me to change. I had all of the capacity I needed to spur my own change. So I decided to start by moving out of my hip and trendy apartment and finding a house that was more laid back and much more me. I was fine living alone, I loved decorating, this was a great plan. So I bought a house. 

Then about two weeks later, I decided that I was done with my job. I went online and began searching for something that was actually in the field I have a degree in (whoa guys. Earth-shattering here) and decided no matter what the position, I was going to take a step forward into what I wanted to do, even if it meant taking a position as an assistant in a PR firm and taking up my spot as the literal bottom of the totem pole. And I did. 

I went about learning to love myself and my new life a little more each day, and the morning after my house-warming Cinco de Derby party, I decided it was time to let someone else love me, too. So I joined eHarmony. 

I wish I was kidding you, because its still surreal to me even now, but within 24 hours, this kid named Christopher messaged me, with a profile that seemed like maybe we might match up. He talked a lot about sports and didn't once mention bars - sounded about my speed, right? So I went out with him.

The morning of our first date, I was headed to a baby shower for a family friend and remember being ready to breathe into a paper bag to catch my breath, sitting there going "Well surely this is going to be the worst date ever because there's just too much good happening right now. The other shoe is going to surely drop."But it didn't.

Except that he tripped walking me to my car. And I remind him of this on definitely a weekly basis. Always there to humble my now loving husband. 

Point of this whole message? Baby steps. 

If any of this sounds like its hitting home, first off, there's nothing wrong with you. Just because we log into Facebook every day and see everyone getting married and having babies doesn't mean that YOU have to, or should be. I realize that I'm a bit of a hypocrite as I'm sitting here telling you about all of the growing I did in such a short period of time, but hang on with me for a bit.

Not until you decide to take the reigns of your life into your own hands and find YOUR path will all of the pieces fall into place. Look at your life as a whole and figure out what needs to go. Push yourself outside your comfort zone and just freakin' go for it. What do you have to lose? Maybe its time to move, maybe its time to try something new, maybe its time for a career change. Who knows, its whatever you need. But just do it. 

I can't believe its been two years. I would say I'm the luckiest girl in the world, but honestly, I'm not sure how much "luck" really had to do with it. More like determination and faith. They're a killer combo, for sure. 

Thanks to everyone who stuck with me two years ago. I know I did a whole lot of anxious-babbling in my attempt to avoid breathing into a brown paper bag every five minutes. I couldn't have done it without you all. 

How To: Clothes the Chapter on Bad Wardrobes

I'M BACK! Sorry for the delay. I have had a wee bit of a rough week. But better late than never, right? I am slightly guilt-ridden about my post this week because of how unbelievably awesome Chris keeps proving himself to be. To say I was under the weather this week would be an understatement and my dear boyfriend bent over backwards to make sure I was okay, even when I was puking and whiney. I was pretty positive that was when only your mom still loves you, but alas, Chris prevailed. Thank you so very much for that. You're the best!

You know what he's not the best at? Dressing himself. Holy moly. If you ladies have ever met your boyfriend somewhere only to find them wearing something completely atrocious you're wondering how they ever even thought they looked okay, go ahead and click JOIN THIS SITE. Yep. Its happened to us all.

This is a serious dilemma, ladies. There's no nice way to be like "Honey, I love you, but you dress like crap." Like almost every guy I've ever met, he's not so keen on shopping. If it can't be accomplished in less than 10 minutes, the look of pure misery slowly creeps onto that cute face of his and he suddenly turns into Oscar the Grouch.

I'm also not willing to spend money on new clothes for him that I'm not entirely positive that he'll actually wear. So I needed to figure out a way to rope him into deciding for himself that it was time for new clothes. This was one of the trickiest things I've ever had to figure out - I'm not usually one for conniving behavior, but it was time to figure out a plan.

Let me frame the situation for you. Chris is a victim of baggy clothes. First off, boys, baggy clothes do nothing for you. You know when you see girls that wear clothes that are too tight and you're like "WHOA, not good", baggy clothes have the same effect for you. You look like you either just lost a ton of weight and refused to buy new clothes or have been single for entirely too long. Now, by no means turn this advice into wearing t-shirts so tight that your "muscles" look bigger. Nope. Uh-uh. Don't do it.

I knew from the beginning that helping Chris's wardrobe was going to be a multi-step process. A complete overhaul is enough to stress anyone out, so how to do this as gently as possible? An opportune moment arose a few weeks ago when Chris forgot to grab a belt to wear with his shorts. (First off, if you HAVE to wear a belt, your clothes are probably too big.) This was my moment. It was time to seize the opportunity. As the day went on, Chris became more disgruntled with his shorts repeatedly falling down and having to hike them back up. I finally asked him if maybe he needed to get some new shorts that fit a little better? The seed had been planted.

The next day, Chris showed up at my house ready for a 10-minute-or-less trip to the nearby outlet mall to buy some new shorts. We left J Crew with THREE pairs of new shorts (all exactly the same but in different colors - this meant he only had to try on one), and on the way out, I was so excited, I took a picture of the back of Chris with his stupid baggy shorts. I quickly showed him how they were entirely too long and how dumb they looked from behind. What do you know?! I haven't seen those awful shorts again. 

In the car on the way home, I jokingly said, "YAY! You'll look so much better! Now we need to just work on your shoes next." He immediately looked down at his shoes, and didn't say much else. 

Two weeks later, I received a text message that made me nearly jump for joy. "Okay, lets find me some new shoes this weekend." I nearly fell out of my chair I was so excited. I automatically assumed that his old, worn-out tennis shoes had, in fact, fallen apart prompting this text message. Turns out, after just my little comment about shoes being next was enough for him to notice his shoes for the first time in probably 10 years (when he more than likely bought them). 

That Sunday, we made a trip to the nearest DSW and picked out some new shoes for him. As we were checking out, I grabbed two sets of new socks for him and told him he needed those too. He laughed, and as he was checking out, the girl looked at him with an adoring look on her face and goes, "I am so proud of you for buying new socks, too. No point ruining new shoes with the wrong sock choice." Chris blamed it on me, and the girl looked back at him and goes "You know what that makes her, right? A keeper. And she's cute too, don't mess this up." I just stood there with a smug look on my face and walked out to the car.

As we got in the car, I looked at Chris and said, "Well, are you going to put them on or what?! I'm so excited to see them on!" He started to put them on with his old socks and I just stared at him until he switched to his new socks, too. I then repeatedly complimented him on his new shoes and how awesome they looked, and said "Now we just need to get you some new t-shirts!"

The funniest part about this whole process to me has been the feedback I've gotten from girl friends of mine and even my sister-in-law. So many people have been like "Okay, HOW did you get him to get new stuff?!" Everyone seems to laugh hysterically at the fact that I did, indeed, take a picture of Chris from behind to show him how unbelievably ridiculous his shorts were. So how do you go about suggesting that your significant other work on their wardrobe?

1. Take it one step at a time. Especially for boys, pick one area to target. They're more likely to go along with it if they're only shopping for one thing at a time.
2. Nagging will get you nowhere. Find a way to plant the seed and then DROP IT. (ex: Chris's  no-belt dilemma).
3. After you've convinced them to change whatever it is thats awful, let them pick their own alternative. You are there to guide them - but it has to be their decision as to what they end up with. So suggest the correct colors/styles, but leave it up to them.
4. Implement rules once new items have been purchased. Chris's old shoes are to be Yard Work Only shoes. They're in my garage, because I'm the one with the yard.
5. Don't try to force anyone out of their comfort zone. No matter what you tell me, I'm never going to wear skin tight skimpy clothes, so I can't expect my other half to show up in seersucker and a bow tie. It won't happen. Thats not Chris, and I'm good with that. 
6. Guys are all about comfort. If they even THINK something might be uncomfortable, they're more than likely going to act like a 4-year-old and not even attempt to try it. Find an alternative that completely proves them wrong and work that angle instead. (Ex. boys who wear "shower shoes" instead of proper sandals like Rainbows.)
7. Compliment them like crazy when they do follow the "rules" - positive reinforcement will go a long way. 

To all of the dudes out there, we're just trying to help you. Don't you love having a hot girlfriend? We love having hot boyfriends, so bare with us. This is one area where you should be glad we know more than you. 

Look at how proud of his new shoes he was.
One small step for Chris, one giant leap for his wardrobe.

Chris - I love the crap out of you, holey t-shirts and all. Don't worry - we'll fix that next.

How To: Meet the Parents

Welcome! Happy Mishaps Day! I'm glad to report that this week Mishaps is back and running at full capacity. Thank you all for bearing with me while I've been running around like a chicken with my head cut off. 

You've probably all read here or seen on Facebook lately that I have exciting news in my life. Everyone meet Chris, my awesome boyfriend.  Hi Chris! ::waves at computer screen:: He's cute, smart, loves dogs that are part mini-horse, takes me to baseball games and to see fireworks, preferably at the same time, and thinks my blog is hysterical. What more could I ask for?

One of the fun (kind of?) parts about having a new relationship is meeting all of the people in both of our lives: roommates, friends, dogs, and even families. We both came to the decision that meeting the parents was going to be as big of a deal as we made out of it. Since both of our families live in the Dallas area (at least part of the time) we were better off getting it out the way than trying to explain why no one had met this mystery person. (Please imagine me making the sound effect of a Band-Aid ripping off, because that is definitely the noise I made while I wrote this paragraph.) (I also apparently love parentheses.)  (At least its not air quotes.) (My eye just twitched.) (I'm done now.)

The plan was set: Chris was going to take me to church, where we would meet his parents, then go eat with them after. Being my typical self, I was confident. I'm funny, relatable, and could talk to a wall. What did I have to worry about?

This attitude stuck with me until we got to the church and Chris and I stood there waiting for his parents to arrive. Suddenly I was ready to put my head between my knees and start hyperventilating. What should I talk about? What should I not talk about? What if they don't like me? What if I don't like them? Why was I not freaking out before RIGHT NOW?!

This was no time to panic... It was too late to fake a sudden illness and try to get out of this. They'd be here at any minute and I'd probably just lost all color in my face as I was trying to remain calm. I might not HAVE to fake an illness if suddenly I hurl on myself. Clearly I was doing a fantastic job at remaining calm...

Turns out everything went just about as smoothly as I could have asked for. I didn't heave, which is always a plus. It did make me feel slightly better about myself that Chris went through the same sudden anxiety attack as we were walking through the parking lot of the restaurant to meet my parents two weeks later. We are just so compatible like that.

Have you had a Meet the Parents Mishaps? Are you ready to meet your significant other's family? Keep these rules in mind.

1. Bring Tums. 
2. Ask your boyfriend/girlfriend about their family so you aren't going in completely blind.
3. Always err on the side of conservative. Watch your language and be polite.
4. Find a balance between quiet as they talk about things you may not know about and talkative when they ask you questions about yourself.
5. It'll only feel like pulling teeth if you go into it with that mentality. Volunteer information rather than sit back for the firing squad of questions. Talk about your family, your job, etc. 
6. Turns out parents get really nervous about these kinds of things, too. My mom knew how important it was to me for it to go smoothly and ended up just as nervous as Chris and I felt.
7. Be yourself! There's a reason you're dating the person you are and more than likely thats the same reason their parents will end up liking you.

Apparently its pretty evident that Chris and I are chocolate-wasted happy together and thats all our parents seemed to notice. There was no need to spray paint a cat or anything outrageous. I even met his siblings this past weekend. So now all we have to do is meet my siblings and ease their FOMO (Fear of Missing Out). (I just learned this acronym today.) (Here we go again with the parentheses.)

How To: Read Between the Lines

Inspiration stuck this morning after having a conversation with my bestie Brad over interpreting something a guy had said to a friend of mine. Not everyone is as lucky as me to have a best guy friend to turn to (or vice versa) when you’re faced with tricky situations over figuring out the opposite sex.

I'm overgeneralizing here, but for the most part, women read into almost everything. We can't help it. It's part of the reason we're so good at adapting to situations - more than likely we've already thought of it anyway. Men, from my understanding, are much more simple. There are generally two reasons behind anything they say: 1. The truth. or 2. Something they think we want to hear in order to avoid the truth.

The biggest pitfalls happen when one party takes something at face value that isn't quite what they meant the other party to interpret and you wind up on the slippery slope of miscommunication. So frustrating!

Today’s post is slightly different than my standard format, but i'm going to give you some insight into several fabricated situations in where miscommunications are MOST LIKELY to happen. Luckily for you, Brad and I are here to give you the rundown on what everything really means.

EXAMPLE: 

Okay, everyone at some point in time has had this conversation or some version of it. It ends with both parties ready to slam their head into a wall. The open ended invite. To go or not to go - that is the question.

Guy Interpretation: Well, I was looking forward to a night with the boys. The only reason I even asked her was I thought she would say no! Its not like we're even dating. Can't we just hang out a different night and not have to ruin Guy's Night?

Girl Interpretation: He asked me to go! But he did say he was with a bunch of guys. Should I go or will I be crashing? I really like this guy though and I want to appear interested in the things that he likes even if I don't care about bar trivia.

General Rule: If they have something specific they mention (such as a guys night) that sounds like you might be intruding on, suggest an alternate plan for a different night and politely decline. This will get you much farther in the long run than becoming a tagalong. 

EXAMPLE:

Girls, if you've ever been left hanging with an awkward "Miss you!" left out there with no response, go ahead and start following Mishaps publicly. Just kidding! But really, you should go click the JOIN THIS SITE button on the top left hand side of the page.

Guy Interpretation: What just happened? We had a great night, and I thought things were going well. Is she really mad that I didnt say "Miss you, too"?? I dropped her off 5 minutes ago after just spent my entire night with her. I haven't had time to start missing her yet!

Girl Interpretation: He doesn't even CARE! Clearly by adding my "..." he knows that I was expecting something more and still didn't say anything! I'm completely disregarding the fact that I just spent the last 5 hours with him for the fact that 2 minutes later he doesn't miss me yet! HOW CAN HE NOT MISS ME, TOO??

General Rule: Consider the appropriateness of the stated "I miss you!"s before you throw it out there. Generally, if its immediately after a conversation with a guy or, even better, during a conversation, you're going to get left hanging. Don't jump to conclusions that this clearly means he's anticipating breaking up with you tomorrow and is glad to be rid of you - that would be a very girl-like thing to do so just CLOSE THE LID on the Crazy.


EXAMPLE:

The dreaded Friend Zone. This is the WORST case of miscommunication. Its like quicksand - once you're in it, there's really no coming out. Don't get caught!

Guy Interpretation: Awesome. I asked her to hang out and she wanted to do something tonight. This is even better than I thought. I wasn't sure if she was into me or not but I guess there's my answer! This could be a fun night!


Girl Interpretation: Its a bar - the more the merrier. He seems nice enough from what I know and this way i'm not forced into anything date-like. Is it 5 yet? I could really use a drink right about now. My feet are going to be killing me by 5. Why do I keep wearing these shoes anyway? Terrible decision. They do make my calves look good though. But for real. Ow.


General Rule: The second the words "Oh, we're just friends" comes out of either party's mouths - Donezo. You're sinking in that quicksand fast. If you are intending it to be a date rather than just "hanging out", be specific. Suggest a particular activity rather than just going with a vague suggestion. You'll get an immediate answer with a simple yes or no and move on from there.

So here is my only advice for this week.

1. Be specific. Say what you're thinking. I think you should click the JOIN THIS SITE button and become a loyal fan. Just saying.

How To: Have a Happy Valentine's Day

I find it extremely odd and somewhat hysterical that my dating blogs tend to be the most requested and the most viewed. Although I've been in plenty of relationships that lasted in range from 2 months to 2 years, I'm still single and clearly not a pro at this whole dating thing.

My first (and only, actually) Valentine's day that I spent in a relationship was when I was 15. I was dating my now best friend Brad (remember him? He's helped write a few posts for me!). I was currently living in Indianapolis and he was in Nashville. My parents drove me the three hours down to see him and we (yes, we. My parents, Brad's parents, Brad and myself) all went to a Nashville Predators game and Brad gave me a card that said "Why Cupid should wear a diaper" with a picture showing as if Cupid had crapped on a car windshield. Even at 15, I knew that a well-placed poop joke was just SUPER romantic. No wonder that was my one and only Valentine's day... I mean, really? How can you top that? (Brad, you still make me laugh 10 years later. Love you today and every day!)

Valentine's Day is such a strange holiday. It means different things to different people. Some people love it and are more than happy to share how much they love the people around them. Some people seem to hate the concept of it and refuse to buy into a "Hallmark Holiday." Wherever you may fall, follow these simple rules to get yourself through Valentine's Day in any phase of life.



FOR MY FAVORITE SINGLES:

The first person who says "Happy Single's Awareness Day!" I'm gonna slap the phony smile right off your face. Not literally, but you know what I mean. Is there any reason that you're more aware of your solo status today than you were yesterday? Last week? Two months ago? No. So stop whining and don't be a Debbie Downer.

1. Let's not forget the reason for this holiday. LOVE! You are surrounded by love every day of the year from your family, friends, coworkers, dogs, cats, neighbors, me, you, etc. Always remember that you are loved.
2. Do something nice for someone you care about today. This morning, I made a pitstop at Sonic and bought small drinks for four of my coworkers, which I had cut out tags that said "Drink up the Love. Happy Valentine's Day!" on the straw of their favorite beverage. My Diet Coke with a splash of Love in it was absolutely delicious.
3. Make yourself happy today. Watch your favorite movie. Eat your favorite food. Buy yourself flowers. Be happy.

FOR MY NEW DATERS:

Did you happen to find yourself in a new relationship in January? Are you just starting to see someone? This is such a tricky topic. Should you celebrate Valentine's Day? Are you being pushy by suggesting it? Date? No Date? WHO KNOWS?!

1. Girls, set your expectations LOW. More than likely, it will be just like if you were single. Valentine's Day doesn't usually mean as much to guys as it does to us ladies.
2. Guys, if you're really digging your new Lady Friend, go for a romantic gesture. Buy us flowers. Send us a card. Ask us to be your Valentine. Show us that we're becoming important to you. We eat that kind of stuff up.
3. This is the most important rule: If one person brings up possibly doing something for Valentine's Day, best to just go with the flow. Girls, don't shoot guys down. Guys, don't panic! Its just one day. It'll be over before you know it.

FOR MY STEADY RELATIONSHIP-ERS:

Pretty self explanatory.

1. Be honest about your expectations. We can't read minds. If you're expecting to walk into your apartment and find rose petals strewn about the floor, well, better say you're wanting something romantic this year.
2. Its more about effort than money spent. Write down things you love about your partner and put it in a cute box. Cook your partner's favorite meal. Do something that shows that you care today and every day.
3. If you don't particularly love Valentine's Day but your partner does, suck it up for a day. Its not worth hurt feelings and a fight on the one day of the year that you're supposed to be mushy and completely in love.

To all of my wonderful readers, I love you!!!

PS. If you know of any tall, hunky 20-Something guys who appreciate a girl with a sense of humor, an awesome dog and a quick wit, well, you know how to contact me.

Just kidding.

Kind of.

How To: Change Single to Plural

Monday rolled around this week and I sat there in my cube, dreaming of my bed instead of doing work, trying to think of things to keep me awake. What should I make for dinner? I think I’d like to repaint my entertainment center. I bet Brodie climbed up on the couch the second I closed the door this morning. What should I write about this week?

DISCLAIMER: I am by no means an expert on any topic I choose to write about from here on out, but maybe the things that I've gone through or are going through currently relate to you and can help you in some way. At the very least, you can laugh at/with me, remembering that one time that maybe you too felt like a complete moron, as I go through the many Mishaps of an Almost Adult.

So many unrelated thoughts rolled through my mind and somehow I landed on recapping a conversation I had earlier this week. A good friend of mine asked me to write about being single. I’ve been coaching her lately, her Hitch, as she calls me, on how to handle dating as an adult. It’s weird, considering I’m such a pro at this, obviously. Dating is pressure and tension. What is a date, really, but a job interview that lasts all night?

Somehow women end up with the same self confidence level we had in middle school, except without the braces, acne and other things really fighting to break our mediocre self esteem. The song Crazy Girl by Eli Young Band (luff them so much) pretty much is the dream song that every girl needs to hear from a future or current love interest, seeing as somehow we all seem to go nuts at one point or another. Sorry boys. We don’t always mean it. Sometimes we do though. I wish I could tell you how to tell the difference in these circumstances, but even I don’t know. After all, we're women. We don't say what we want, but we reserve the right to get pissed off if we don't get it. That's what makes us so fascinating! And not a little bit scary. (Sliding Doors)

Relationship status ends up becoming far more than just a Facebook update, but somehow works its way into part of our Almost Adult definition of ourselves. My mom called me all upset a few weeks ago. Apparently after being asked about her daughter, she told this person that I was working full time, designing on the side, and writing this hilarious blog she loved to read each week. My mom got terribly offended and felt the need to call me and tell me that the first thing this woman asked was, “That’s great! Is she dating anyone?”

“Why does that matter?” she said when she called me to vent. “I gave her three awesome things about you that she could have commented on and that's what she chose? Does being single have to define you? That’s horrible! Do you get that all the time?”

Well, yeah, I do get that a lot. My favorite answer is, “I have a dog!” to which most people kind of laugh and then get a sad look on their face as they now feel bad for me. They are clearly underestimating the awesomeness that is Brodie. And the fact that he’s practically the size of a human, so I’m not even sure he still counts as a dog.

I’m single and currently okay with it. Would I like to be plural? Sure. The way I see it, there are four different stages of single:

1. You’re newly single. Unfortunately, you’ve found yourself at a crossroad in your life and are now trying to figure out who you are sans relationship. It sucks. We’ve all been there.
2. You’re single and enjoying it. You like meeting new people at bars and go out on lots of first dates, but maybe aren’t ready for the commitment to a long term relationship yet. After all, you’re just 20-Something.
3. You’re single and ready to mingle. (Who says that? That’s dumb. Apparently I just did though.) You are actively seeking a relationship with potential.
4. You’re single single. Hopefully you’ll run into someone in the elevator at work, have a grocery cart accident, or get your dog’s leash tied around some cute 20-somethings legs. In the meantime, you’re just plain single.

More than likely, we’ve all been all of these things at some point in time. Some people stay at certain stages longer than others, but who’s to say what’s right and how long each of these stages should last? How much effort should you put into dating? How much should you just leave to fate and pray changes in its own time? WHY IS DATING SO HARD?

Clearly I can’t give you any magic fix-all seven point plan to change your Single to Plural. (unless you go read How To: Find 50 First Dates – that’s kind of a cure if you’re a Single #2 or #3). Here’s my best advice.

1. Always, always, always be yourself. If you have to change for someone else, well, you haven’t found the right person yet.
2. Don’t take dating advice from The Bachelor. Those people are crazy. You've known the dude for 2 minutes and you're saying you could see yourself marrying him and making cute babies. Lets pump the brakes a little. I feel so stable and normal after watching that show.
3. Be brave. When you’re ready to start dating, give it a shot. Your chances are far better of finding someone if you actually put yourself out there. Say hi to the cute guy in the elevator. Offer to buy the coffee of an attractive girl behind you in line at Starbucks. Strike up a conversation with someone sitting alone at lunch. Find 50 First Dates.
4. Rejection is just going to be part of the process. Be comfortable in your own skin and rebound quickly. Obviously it was a character flaw on the other party’s half to not see the amazingness that is you.
5. Find things you’re glad you do alone. Read a book. Run a new jogging trail. Be content in your singleness.
6. If you can’t be happy alone, well, work on that. Its never a good idea to have your happiness dependent on someone else. That way, it can never be taken away from you.
7. Never give up hope. No matter how old you are, whether you’re a 20-Something or a 40-Something, if you are open to it, I truly believe you’ll find someone.

Do as Dory does – “Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming. What do we do? We SWIM!”

And yes, I'm 25 and just quoted Finding Nemo. That has absolutely no impact on my current relationship status. Don't judge.

How To: Survive the Holidays

The Holidays are here! Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, whether you're ready or not. By the time you'll be reading this, I'll more than likely be on a plane on my way home, snuggled in and ready for my usual horrific turbulence while landing in Denver. I invite you to sit back, relax, and start your holiday weekend off right by laughing at my family's best ever Thanksgiving story.

DISCLAIMER: I am by no means an expert on any topic I choose to write about from here on out, but maybe the things that I've gone through or are going through currently relate to you and can help you in some way. At the very least, you can laugh at/with me, remembering that one time that maybe you too felt like a complete moron, as I go through the many Mishaps of an Almost Adult.

It was 1997 and my family was living in Cooper City, Florida, a suburb of Fort Lauderdale. We had just moved to Florida that summer before and were ready to celebrate our first ever Floridian holiday season. Seeing as we hardly knew anyone in South Florida and the rest of our relatives were in the Midwest, my maternal grandparents decided they would come and visit us for Thanksgiving to keep us company.

Our house was strangely one of the only two story houses in our neighborhood. The downstairs featured extremely high ceilings (about 12 feet) and was comprised of the family room, dining room, kitchen, and then there was an "outdoor room" that was a screened in pool/patio under an overhang. I know, you're sitting here saying, "Okay, Aimee, I'm done reading, you've lost your touch. Why on earth do I care about the layout of your house?" Trust me, its important.

Thanksgiving morning looked like a pretty typical day in any American house. My mom and my Grandmother were in the kitchen making side dishes and desserts while my dad and Grand-daddy were left in charge of the meat.

My dad, ever the adventurous type, decided that he was tired of waiting 128745 hours for a turkey to cook in the oven, so he was going to try something new this year. He was going to smoke the turkey. On the grill. (Go ahead, shake your head, cover your eyes, you can see where this is going.)

My brother and I were contently sitting in the family room doing what 11 and 14 year old kids did best in 1997... playing the new Goldeneye 007 for N64. I had this addiction to using the rocket launcher at all times, making my kill count awesome. Except I died every time as well. And lost. Repeatedly. But that's beside the point. Our central location gave us the perfect view of both the kitchen and the grill out on the patio to witness what happened next.

While chatting with Grand-daddy, my mom went out to the grill to check the temperature of the turkey. When she opened the lid, it wasn't just her eyebrows that hit the roof. Flames shot up and hit the ceiling as if a special effect in our 007 game. My mom was just standing there with her bangs and eyebrows about to be singed off, staring wide-eyed at the grill and trying to figure out how to get these massive flames out. Grand-daddy, ever the calm one, walked up to my mom and said these three epic words.

"Close the lid."

Everyone gawked as my mom slowly grabbed the lid to the grill and closed it back over the turkey, thus putting out the flames. Grand-daddy came and turned down the grill, and then removed the turkey. Please imagine Eric and I sitting in the family room, controllers in hand, jaws on the floor, as we're noticing the scorch marks on the ceiling of our back porch, providing evidence, that yes, we just saw 8 foot flames coming off our dinner.

Surely our dinner was doomed, but something like a little charred skin wasn't about to stop my dad and Grand-daddy from providing for their family. They carved and carved and carved that turkey until they removed all of the burnt part and everyone got a little bit of turkey for dinner that night. Thanksgiving had been saved. Funny part is, I'm pretty positive they spent more time carving that dang turkey than it would have taken to just bake it in the oven.

Those scorch marks were still on the ceiling above the grill when we moved out of that house three years later and headed for Indiana. I hope the people who moved in after us made up some kind of good story as to how they got there.

My family still uses the phrase "Close the lid." for any kind of stressful situation. Don't know what to do? Close the lid. Kill the flames. End it.

Are you prepared to handle holiday stress? Mishaps is here to help!

1. Need to travel to see your family like me? Check out How To: Take a Trip with Frugal for some budget travel tips!
2. Tired of your relatives asking you "So what are you doing these days?" Read How To: Walk Uphill Both Ways for advice on readjusting your life plan.
3. Ready to watch football all day? Don't know the first thing about sports? Fake it with How To: Take or Fake an Interest in Sports.
4. Are you the only single one in your family? Change that with How To: Find 50 First Dates. Or at least laugh hysterically at my horrible date story to make yourself feel a little better.
5. Pants don't fit after you ate all of that non-burnt turkey? Get some dieting tips with How To: Move On from Ramen.
6. Need some new things to talk about with your parents other than the weather? Read How To: Have an Adult Relationship with your Parents.
7. If all else fails, close the lid.

My dad said he's going to smoke the turkey this year... Here's hoping he was kidding.

How To: Have an Adult Relationship with Your Parents

Are you ready for some hilarious Aimee baby photos? They're good ones.

DISCLAIMER: I am by no means an expert on any topic I choose to write about from here on out, but maybe the things that I've gone through or are going through currently relate to you and can help you in some way. At the very least, you can laugh at/with me, remembering that one time that maybe you too felt like a complete moron, as I go through the many Mishaps of an Almost Adult.

One of the most important parts of being an Almost Adult and then eventually a Full-Blown Adult is figuring out how to allow your relationship with your parents to change. For those fortunate enough to come from a loving and supportive family like my own, figuring out how to be independent can be a real adjustment.

Let me start this by telling you how awesome my parents are. My mom is amazing. She is one of the nicest people I’ve ever met in my life. She’s always loving, is ready to help in any way she can at the drop of a hat, and is one of my best friends.

My dad is pretty great, too. His laugh is kind of like a sonic boom and is sure to make everyone else laugh, especially because he’s usually laughing at something he just said. Or maybe something I said. He thinks I’m pretty funny. I was extremely lucky to have been born into their family.

Father - Daughter relationships are an interesting breed. My dad's and my conversations usually are focused on one of three things: the weather, my dog, or my car. As much as my dad was ready to have me off his payroll, our relationship has had the most growing pains. I think in his mind I still look like the picture below and he can take care of me always.



I had to include a picture with the infamous 'stache.

I am also digging my sweet knee socks.

My favorite place to hang out when I was little was in my dad's workshop with him. He was always building or fixing something around the house. He even helped my brother and I make our very own Go Kart.

This picture makes me question his parenting skills. Our homemade Go Kart was equipped with foot brakes, meaning I put my feet out and hopefully I would stop. I'm also sporting a bathing suit - excellent road gear. Who needs a helmet when you've got knee pads?  No one likes a skinned knee. Go ahead and push me down that hill, Dad. I'll be fiiiiiiiiiine. (I actually have no recollection of getting hurt, so either I was so traumatized that I suppressed the memory or in fact, I really was fine.)

Other than activities that I joined in on with my brother and dad though, we always struggled a little at finding things in common. Apparently, when I was 5, I missed the biggest clue as to what we would later have in common.

That's right. Fishing. Nice hat dad. You look cool. So do my bangs.

 It took me 17 more years to figure out how to work on my relationship with my dad. I had graduated college and decided that our conversations about the weather were as bleak as a rainy day and needed to be spiced up a little. I didn't really expect my dad to take much of an interest in graphic design, photography or fashion, so what could I do to have more of a relationship with my dad?

We bought TCU season tickets. My dad loves football and I love TCU. It was a perfect fit. I started learning to shoot a shotgun and took up shooting sporting clays with him on the weekend. He loved teaching me and I loved blowing stuff up.

We worked on bird drills with my dog. He loved throwing dummies for Brodie, Brodie loved getting lost on the way back. (He's not the world's best retriever.) We traded in my Minnie Mouse fishing pole for a fresh water fly rod and started wading through the Eagle River near my parents house in Colorado. Somewhere about hip-deep in freezing cold water I realized I had an adult relationship with my dad outside of him washing my car and paying my bills. (Okay so I still let him wash my car. Every parent wants to still feel needed, right?)

Ready for independence and a grown-up relationship with your parents?

1. Its time to start making big decisions on your own.
2. Still feel like you need advice? Do some research on whatever you're trying to decide on beforehand and go in with an idea seeking their opinion rather than asking your parents to fix it for you.
3. If you act like a child, you'll still be treated like one.
4. The easiest way to get rid of "helecopter parents" is to volunteer the information you are willing to share about your life. As long as they feel in the loop, they'll stop hovering.
5. Figure out ways to adapt your relationship with your parents. Focus on common interests rather than being in a dependent relationship.
6. Throw them a bone. Let them take care of you now and then. They are your parents, after all.
7. Be grateful. Thank them for all of the things they've done for you throughout your life and for letting you grow up and figure things out on your own.

I know you read my blog, so thanks for following me!

Happy early Birthday, Dad. I'll always be a Daddy's Girl.

How To: Break Out of a Break Up

Well, I had an entire article written yesterday ready to post today, but now after a recent turn of events in my life I ended up starting from scratch and rewrote an entirely new article for today instead. I had two different topic requests for this week, break ups and eating healthy (which do NOT go hand in hand). If today's article applies to you directly, I grant you one week to wallow in your pity-party party-of-one state of mind, and then check back next week for some eating healthy tips.

DISCLAIMER: I am by no means an expert on any topic I choose to write about from here on out, but maybe the things that I've gone through or are going through currently relate to you and can help you in some way. At the very least, you can laugh at/with me, remembering that one time that maybe you too felt like a complete moron, as I go through the many Mishaps of an Almost Adult.

Remember how I hate dating? (You should. More than likely you read that article... it was Mishaps Most Read post! Read it here) Its so full of ups and downs, misunderstandments, and unnecessary drama. And that was all on or before my first date with Air Quote-R. What a good pun. I think my eye just twitched.

For those of us that haven't found the loves of our lives yet, dating really is like a roller coaster. It looks so exciting from a distance, people laughing, taking risks and having the time of their lives, convincing you that yeah, that's what you want to do! And then you see the 2 hour long snail-paced line. Still, it might be worth the wait. So you wait, and you wait, and you wait. You finally get to the ride, you're so excited you can hardly stand it. You hop on, ready to go, and the park closes. You get motion sickness. The ride breaks down. The seat belt won't buckle. Who knows. But for some reason, this ride just wasn't for you.

For women, the portrait that gets painted of us post-breakup is the disheveled mess, up to our eyeballs in gross used tissues, cry-screaming, and a full-on pity party. Its super attractive. And a lot of times, not too far off the plate. You can go around in circles all you want claiming it was for the best, it wouldn't work out anyways, or whatever reasoning you'd like to put into it, but breaking up still sucks, both for the dumper and the dumpee. (What a terrible choice of word for that expression.)

No matter whether you're a high school sophomore, a 20-something, or a 40-something, ending a relationship is never fun. So how do you break out of a break up?

1. You read this post. Even though you can't see me, I'm sitting here patting you on the back, handing you a tissue, and telling you it'll be okay.
2. And then I'm going to roll my eyes at you and tell you to MOVE ON! More than likely, you were correct when you said it wouldn't have worked anyway, or you could do better. You already knew it, its just much more obvious now.
3. Give yourself time to recover. You can talk about needing a rebound all you want, but more than likely you probably need to just sit this one out and concentrate on ditching the baggage first.
4. Although I never really recommend a full-on meltdown, don't overcompensate and prevent yourself from feeling anything. You're allowed to be upset. Your life is changing and sometimes its a little jarring.
5. Ditch the sad music/movies. Do you really think listening to Adele's "Someone Like You" on repeat is going to help? If anything, this will lead directly to the up to your eyes in gross used tissues. My choice: I listen to reggae music. Its calm and I have no clue what the heck they're saying most of the time.
6. Count on your friends. More than likely they'll be like me in Step 2, but they love you. They'll listen.
7. Everything happens for a reason. It really wasn't meant to be. There are plenty of other fish in the sea. Pick your expression. Its still true.

How To: Be a Long-Distance Friend

Happy Birthday to me! I have the best friends ever. Their birthday present to me this year was a guest post, so here's what they had to say.

BRAD

Weren't we attractive? Oh middle school.

For over half my life, I've had the pleasure of calling Aimee one of my best friends. Ever since the day we met, it seemed like we just clicked. Maybe it was because I finally found someone who would talk more than me. Maybe it was because I was afraid she’d beat me up since she was about a foot taller than me. It was probably a combination of several different things but, never the less, we became close. We were some of the most awkward kids in the 8th grade but we definitely thought we were the coolest. I'm sure we didn't help our case by making what we thought were witty jokes that seemed to only make us laugh.

Turning the clock forward a little closer to the present, we are closer now than when we lived up the street from one another. Aimee always fell in that category of people that I could go months without talking to and, when we finally would get the chance, it was like we had spoken the day before. I remember when Jen (my now wife) and I started dating, she was pretty jealous of our friendship. I think it was partly because there was another girl in my life who, for all intensive purposes, was my go-to-girl. Jen would always tell me that she was worried that when she finally met her, Aimee wouldn't like her. She would always give me funny looks when we would talk on the phone and, as we were hanging up, I would say, “Love you babe! Bye!"

As it turns out, the day they finally met was actually two days before mine and Jen's wedding. I remember how nervous she was as we drove to the restaurant to meet up with Aimee, Catherine, and Colby. (you’ll meet them after me, I was here first, so I get to go first.) From the second they hugged, they are both huggers so it wasn't weird, it seemed as though they had been friends for almost as long and Aimee and I. (Probably due to how much one had to hear about the other) By the end of the dinner, they were even planning a girl’s weekend without me! As we were leaving, Jen said to me, “I can’t believe I was ever worried about not getting along with her! She is so awesome!” I simply replied, “Now you know why I love her so much.”

I feel like before they met, Jen just accepted the fact that I would say, “Love you” to Aimee when we would talk on the phone or text. Now, after meeting each other and seeing what a great person she is, I think Jen fully understands why I say it. She’s the only other woman in my life besides my wife (and mother/mother-in-law/other significant female family members) that makes me want to tell her that I love her and mean it every time.

Aimee, you are the best friend someone could ask for and I can’t wait to share the rest of my life with you too. Happy Birthday!

CATHERINE

Freshman year of High School. Super cute, huh?

 Not only are we 25 now, but Aimee and I have been best friends for ten years.  During the course of a decade I've learned some great things from her, and the main thing is that all you need in life in that one friend who'll listen to you bitch about something stupid, make you laugh out loud at inappropriate moments, and who will talk you in to public humiliation.

I met Aimee on our first day of high school.  Aimee had just moved to Indiana, and I was starting at a new school.  So there we sat in an Honors English class (how I ended up in there I couldn’t tell you), when our teacher uttered the two most dreaded words for any awkward, friendless, new student.  Group project.  Being the two new kids, Mrs. Bowling, bless her, put the two of us together, and that was that.

The one project turned into many over the course of the year, each one somehow more mortifying then the last.  Perhaps the best (or worst) project happened when the class was asked to re-enact a scene from Romeo and Juliet.  Immediately there seems to be trouble there for us to be partners, but we figured out that we could do one scene together- the fight scene.

So one evening we were figuring out how best to do this, and decided that it would be hilarious to make it a modern day fight in a gym.  So we asked Aimee’s mother to grab the video camera (we should’ve known that if we weren’t willing to do this live, recording it wasn’t a good alternative).  Now to give you a little visual of this, let’s just say the scene involved Sock-em-Boppers, treadmills, and a complete blooper reel.  Sad to say the teacher kept it.  To this day I am mortified that this tape is out there somewhere.

This was just one of many a hilarious, embarassing, and unforgettable memory of my best friend. So in answer to those snobby girls in high school- "I have friend! ..And she's pretty awesome."

Happy birthday Aimee.  I am geniunely afraid of the story I’ll post for your 35th.

COLBY

Freshman year of college...
Colby's first trip to Texas.

Let me start this off by saying I have THE worst memory EVER. I tend to forget large chunks of my life; maybe for my benefit, I don't know. So not to sound like a terrible friend I really needed to dig deep on this one. I don't remember officially meeting Aimee, no seriously, and don't I sound like a jerk saying that?! But I don't, I don't know if it was move-in day, a week later, or even a month later, but to me, that part doesn't matter. The parts that came after do.

My favorite part of having Aimee freshman year at Bentley was that she had the same taste for life I did. I preferred eating my entire medium thin crust Dominos pizza, so did Aimee. I preferred two extra shots in my margarita, so did Aimee. Aimee also came prepared for such events, she had a blender; however we did have to turn up the music so to drown out the crunch of ice and whirring sound that followed. Aimee also has the same love for movies I do, resulting in entire conversations in movie quotes. People get annoyed by it; I say watch Brother Bear and join in!

Aimee was also blessed, as a freshman, to have had a motor vehicle on campus. AWESOME. We'd take trips to Target, blasting country music the whole way. She still likes to brag that she expanded my country pallet beyond the ever popular Kenny Chesney. And yes, I think his tractor is very sexy. This gorgeous red Jeep had the unfortunate experience of coming in close contact with a Bentley dumpster; “Ahh! Salam and good evening to you worthy friend. Please, please come closer. Too close! A little too close.” A typical Bentley retard decided to go the wrong way in a one way – this never ends well. The dumpster’s handle scraped down the passenger side of the Jeep as Aimee veered around the idiot. Making light of the situation, we got to have an annunciation lesson as we drove down I95 to the collision center. Listening to Aimee try and pronounce the town names as we went was priceless: Ponkapoag, Peabody(not as easy as it looks), Worcester, Gloucester and various others.

Getting back to my brain devoid of memories, I don’t remember the day Aimee told me she wasn’t coming back to Bentley. As a woman in love, I was in denial. I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with this person and here she was, up and leaving me. Silly me for thinking this magnificent creature didn’t share my vast emotions. We were married spring of Sophomore year and had a fabulous honeymoon in Florida (at my grandparent’s condo but hey, no hotel costs!) It was there I got to show off my fantastic driving skills. Aimee and I even made up a song (to be sung to the tune of Hellogoodbye’s Here In Your Arms):

“I like, where we are, when we drive, in your golf cart. I like, where we are, here. Where you are the one, the one, who sits next to me. Whispers, “Hello, you’re driving quite terribly.” I fell right out, when you turned so suddenly. But there’s no place I’d rather be but here in your golf cart.”

I think it’s safe to say, I drove her crazy. My Aimsicle and I (now that we were married, a pet name seemed appropriate) spent our days sunbathing, playing Wii, and gossiping about boys; my current boyfriend was also in Florida for Spring Break and had invited another lady as his guest (our love lives are beyond complicated).

The next three years were rough, being newlyweds and all, we didn’t see each other. We were both busy finishing school, getting a job, keeping that job, buying our babies, trying to figure out the meaning of being an “adult”.

Then, a MIRACLE happened. NEW YORK CITY – the city of lights – brought us back together again. Aimee and her “friends of the ages” all met in one location for a weekend of chaos. We drank margaritas which we’re convinced were made with grain alcohol, crashed a Lord of the Rings party, held the Statue of Liberty in our hands, shopped, and walked our boots off. After that, Aimee and I vowed to never go more than six months between visits.

The next one was Nashville, TN. I was her date (naturally) for her ex-boyfriend’s wedding (HEY BRAD!). This event was most memorable and down-right side-splitting. But that story needs its own post so I’ll let Aimee tell that one (also my brain is story-telling retarded, not being able to remember everything and all).

So here I am, my wifey turning 25, and this time next week she will be in my hometown, Boston. If she’s not careful, Aimee and that beautiful new Bendel of hers won’t make it back to Texas.

To my friend, my sister, my wife, my other half, my therapist, my personal shopper, Happy 25^th Birthday.

How To: Turn 25

I went home Wednesday evening still riding a high from the number of wonderful readers who tuned into my newest blog entry. Before I go any further, thank you all for reading! I am loving all of the positive feedback I'm getting. When you quote me back to me it makes my day. (Haven't read it yet? Click Here)

My excitement level helped me decide that this needed to be a celebration evening, not just a typical evening in my apartment. I went home, opened my fridge and pulled out a selection of top-notch meats and cheeses. By this I mean the deli's finest prepackaged honey ham and a mozzarella string cheese, to be washed down with a nice glass of Cran-Raspberry. What can I say, I'm classy. My Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous days are apparently not here yet. What a buzz-kill.

I thought about writing a post for last Friday, but didn't really have enough time to promise quality writing, so I thought I'd postpone in order to give you something better. I pondered over what to write about all weekend and decided that there is something unavoidable for today's post. No reader votes necessary.

I have a birthday this week. Actually, its tomorrow. I'm turning 25! Check back tomorrow, three of my hilarious life-long besties are working on some guest posts about Yours Truly.

The big 2-5. To all of my older readers, please hold all of your comments about how young I am while I start to hyperventilate and put my head between my knees. I give you one free eye roll on me. Yes, I know. I'm still a baby. I will be closer to 30 than 20, as my so-called "best friend" Colby pointed out to me. Half-way to 50. A quarter of a century. I can remember things clearly from two decades ago. This is getting scary.

Shouldn't I have figured some stuff out by now? I mean, I've had 25 years. 25 just sounds like a full-blown adult to us Almost Adults. Rather than dwell on all of the things I haven't gotten to yet in life or any advice for getting older, today's list is different.

I am one heck of a lucky girl because:

1. I have spent 25 years with my awesome family. My mom's and my relationship has provided me with plenty of ammo for writing material, my brother is my ultimate "funny or not funny" critic, and my dad laughs no matter what. I even have a pretty awesome sister-in-law.
2. I have three extraordinary best friends that have known me for a combined 29 years. You'll all get to meet Brad, Colby and Catherine tomorrow right here on Mishaps where I'm letting them all tell stories about me. They're good.
3. I have the world's best sidekick in my dog, Brodie. He wakes me up every morning just DYING to say hi to me. It's cute.
4. I went to a great college that allows me to obnoxiously deck myself out in purple. I love getting to see my wonderful friends at tailgates on home game weekends.
5. I'm only 25. I've got a whole lot of living left to do.
6. I have a good job, but more importantly I'm doing what I love... writing, telling stories, and making you laugh.
7. I have you! My fabulous readers! Keep tuning in. Today's post wasn't as laugh out loud funny, I know, but tomorrow's is. I grant you one heck of a laugh at my expense tomorrow.

How To: Find 50 First Dates

DISCLAIMER: I am by no means an expert on any topic I choose to write about from here on out, but maybe the things that I've gone through or are going through currently relate to you and can help you in some way. At the very least, you can laugh at/with me, remembering that one time that maybe you too felt like a complete moron, as I go through the many Mishaps of an Almost Adult.

Ooooooooooh, dating. How I despise you. In movies, we see people meet at work or on the train, in line at the grocery store, walking the dog, shopping, the list goes on. I think it would be great if Brodie would go all Marmaduke on me; drag me down the street, accurately locating a gorgeous 20-something, tangle us together 101 Dalmatians style, turning my story into a real life rom-com. Seeing as how that more than likely won't happen, I think perhaps I should put a little more effort into finding my own date.

Sure, I've been set up by friends and met guys at bars but nothing has seemed to pan out too well so far. My biggest problem seems to be that most of my friends all run in the same circle, so I don't have a ton of outside connections. I needed to expand my search categories to include more prospects. Besides just walking up to attractive strangers, which, let's face it, I'd never be brave enough to do, it was time to try out online dating.

From an outside perspective, I can see both immediate ups and downs to the world of online dating. There's the risk of meeting a total stranger, but that risk kind of goes for all first dates in general. A blind date is a blind date regardless if your friend swears he's suuuuuuuper nice or not. There's also the possibility that someone could misrepresent themselves in a profile. Personally, I feel like that would be a lot of wasted effort on any one's part... Ok, so sure, you convince me to go out with you, but when I get there and your stated 6'0" self is, in fact, 5'6", and your pictures were clearly taken several years ago in what must have been really good lighting, your second date shot is blown, so where is the advantage in lying right out of the gate? Both negatives were outweighed to me by the chance to meet men in the surrounding area that I might otherwise never run into.

Per my reasoning above, I'd convinced myself it was worth a shot and I signed up for Match. At first its overwhelming and kind of fun! Its like shopping, except for boys (its pretty much an online catalog for men.) You can do an advanced search and put in all sorts of information about what you want in your perfect match and then search through only the profiles who meet your exact criteria. Well, this I could handle. However, as I got to reading these Mr. Perfect profiles, they were anything but. 

Right off the bat, I have advice for my fellow online dating users.

1. Please please please use spell check. By about the fifth "typo" I'm done reading. You sound dumb.
2. If your only picture is a group shot of you and your fellow dude-bros, unless you intend on drawing in a large arrow pointing to yourself, pick another picture.
3. I'd prefer to not see a picture of you with some girl (or opposite for girls... dur). Who is this? Your ex-girlfriend? I'm not Southwest Airlines. I don't take baggage for free.
4. 

   Any email that starts with "How was your weekend?" comes off more like Joey Tribbiani's "How you doin'?" Insert a raised eyebrow, and then a large eye roll on my part.
5. Write enough in your profile so that a potential match might find something you have in common or interesting about you to discuss in an email.
6. Be honest. Have some close friends proof-read your profile for you, see if they think it accurately represents you.
7. Have confidence. You may not get replies back from everybody you had hoped, but obviously that means that they're not good enough for you and probably a little stuck up. Who wants that anyway?

I tried it for a while, went on lots of first dates, a few second dates, and ended up getting two relationships out of my time on Match. After a while though, it kind of seemed more like a local bar that you see the same people at, time in and time out. The entire experience was worth it for one legendary story.

The second first date I ever went on while using Match was with a police officer I will refer to as R. Shortly after joining Match, I received an email from R that caught me more than a little off guard. The way Match used to be set up, you selected preferences that you either liked or didn't like and it displayed them on your profile. R's email to me was written as if he was all of the things I didn't like, and accusing me of being biased against all of those things and would I never date anyone like him or even give him a shot because of those particular things? The further into the email I read, the more uncomfortable I got. Maybe I was being too harsh on people. And when would this email be over?

 At the very end, it was followed by a "Just kidding." ... the entire email was made up just to poke fun at my list of "don't likes." I laughed (albeit, uncomfortably) and decided he at least deserved a response for coming up with something definitely more original than my favorite, "How was your weekend?" After making me laugh several more times throughout our correspondence, I agreed to meet R for dinner the following week. What can I say, I'm a sucker for a sarcastic personality.

Seeing as how R's and my conversation started, I should have known that this was going to be a date to go down in history. I arrived at the steakhouse R had chosen and saw him waiting for me. After polite small talk while waiting for our table, we were seated and it all began to unravel quickly.

In order to explain this next dialogue, I'm creating a key so that you readers get an accurate visual image of how this date went. When you see a *bold* word, please insert air quotes around it. Like little Horned Frogs for my fellow TCUers, finger quotes, whatever you want to call them. Anything in italics means that I'm thinking this to myself, not actually said out loud. Here we go.

R: "So, you like to *play* golf?"

Me: I'm confused, is he implying that I don't really like to play golf?

       "I do. I play with my dad a lot of weekends."

R: "Well that's fun, what else do you *like* to do?"

Me: Still confused
       "Well, I love to go see my family in Colorado and go skiing in the winter."

R: "Are you a good *skier*?"

Me: What is up with the air quotes?

       "I guess so, yeah, my Grand-daddy taught me to ski when I was three, so I've skied my whole life."

R: "Does your whole family *ski*?"

Me: Maybe this is like a nervous tick or something

       "Yes, we all do, although my sister-in-law snowboards, not skis."

R: "That sounds fun. Do you *go* every year?"

Me: What if I just reach across the table and bat his hands out of the air next time?

        "Yes, we try to."

R: "Well I can't play golf or ski. Have you ever *tried* frisbee golf?"

Me: I need a flight attendant. Where is my nearest exit?

       "No I haven't."

Within 20 minutes, I'm pretty positive I had developed an eye twitch. Every time he raised his hands off the table I flinched a little, bracing myself for the continued excessive misuse of air quotes. After an hour, I practically sprinted to my car. It was one of the most painful (and hilarious, after the eye twitch had subsided) first dates I have ever been on.

If you're still thinking about maybe trying out online dating, I say go for it. Keep an open mind and take it at face value, an introduction to all sorts of people you wouldn't have otherwise met. Even if you don't find exactly what you're looking for, at the very least, it'll help you know what you DON'T want in a future partner. For me, that would be excessive air quoters. Can't do it. My eye just started twitching again thinking about it.