After Careful Research...

...it turns out that breakin' up IS hard to do. Who would have thought?

Yeah, that's Bridget right there, wallowing in sadness.

Because it's been a whole week since I've written anything, I feel I deserve to bring my sunny view on life to something it's very hard to be optimistic about. The Break Up.

Side Note: Because we at WMWC (We = Me) keep things VERY classy, this isn't going to be the place where I post The Well-Intentioned Ex-Boyfriend (his new title)'s home address and ask you to wreak havoc on his life. Hardly. I only have the utmost respect for him. I'm not even including specifics, so you can go off and speculate as you please. Really, go ahead. Here are some examples of acceptable speculation: Were there five other women involved!? Was I the other woman all along!? Did I fall in love with his cryogenically frozen twin brother who was previously thought dead and gone? IS HE A VAMPIRE!? Etc., etc...

Ok, stop speculating for a moment and listen to my wisdom I've accumulated in, oh, exactly 24 hours of heartbreak. I know, I'm practically a veteran at this point.

First off, it turns out that The Break Up is an intricate, exotic animal, sort of like a Liger. As Jeffrey Lebowski (The Dude) might say, it has "a lotta ins, a lotta outs, a lotta what-have-yous." Really, Dude, I couldn't have phrased it better myself.

Alright, I do have a phrase to add: It sucks. Eloquent, I know. And although it sucks, I've decided to compile a list of reasons why it doesn't suck. Feel free to comment and add other reasons - I don't have ALL the wisdom in the world, you know.

1) To be serious for a second, you don't realize quite how many people love you (or how many people you love) until a loss occurs. I have so many wonderful friends and parents and grandparents in my life. I've never felt so taken care of and loved like I do right now... and so, so grateful.

2) I want to buy things, and I don't feel bad about it. Today I went to Sephora with a gift card and bought a new lipstick. I'm wearing it now. It's really, really pretty and pink and I feel like a totally new woman.

3) I've lost four pounds. Ok, that has nothing to do with TBU, since anxiety doesn't generally quell my appetite (if only...), but it doesn't hurt things either. Example:

Scene: Walks into the bathroom, looks in mirror.

Mirror Self: "You look hot. And thin. Wallowing totally becomes you."

Glance at side view, makes a sexy-face. (Ladies, don't pretend you don't have a mirror-sexy-face.)

Regular Self: "Hey! You're totally right! I'm going to put on jeans that make my butt look nice and get myself out of the house!"

Four pounds lost, problem solved. See?

4) I've stopped fidgeting. If you know me in real life, I'm a really fidgety person. I bite my nails, I crack my knuckles, I DON'T STOP MOVING. It drives my mother crazy, she's always asking "Why are you so nervous." Well, it turns out it was because I was HAPPY. Weird. Sadness took care of that habit!

5) Train ticket and gas money for trips to see The Well-Intentioned Ex-Boyfriend can now be spent on new clothes. I mean, sure, he was worth every penny. But it doesn't mean a new spring wardrobe isn't worth it either... I'm thinking a bright colored trench coat would be LOVELY.

6) Time. Right now, I don't know what to do with myself. I'm always so busy and crazed, these weekends ahead of me without a trip (or a visitor) scheduled are looming, empty and desolate. But I think I finally need to learn how to fill time and RELAX. So maybe it's a blessing in disguise, after all.

I apologize to you, readers, if this entry was too personal for what you've come to expect from me, but I like to think you've all been there, or known someone who's been there, and that you can appreciate a humorous, positive take on TBU. And who knows, maybe some day I'll be writing an entry about The New Guy or even The Un-Break Up with The Well-Intentioned Ex-Boyfriend. Only time will tell.

OR maybe I'll become some weird spinster who wears lipstick when she's alone and watches Jeopardy all the time (TOTALLY a possibility.) 

But please, send well-wishes so that doesn't happen.

25 Things, But In a Not-So-Creepy Way

Recently, I've been having this weird desire to see if I could do one of those "25 Things" lists, mostly because I don't think I'm interesting enough to put something down for every number. And although I read everyone else's lists like a total creepy stalker, I just couldn't bring myself to do it on Facebook. So I thought, quite logically, that I'd try it out on my blog, where people specifically go (correct me if I'm being narcissistic here) to read about me and the things I think about. Therefore, this is a pretty good forum for it.

Here they are:

1. I have three brothers, ranging in age from 2 to 16 (going on 17). I'm the only child in the family with a first name that has more than one syllable.

2. When I'm not at school, I drive a standard transmission fire engine red Jeep that I've named Jeepy... and I don't care if you think naming cars is stupid. Half the irony is in the fact that it's just Jeep with a Y. I get it. Do you?

3. My favorite color is Fire Engine Red.

4. I'm the Co-Author of three books, two of which are currently in bookstores.

5. I can turn my feet in all the way but have always wished they turned OUT instead. My left foot is slightly pigeon-toed when I walk. It's not cute.

6. I'm half Italian, and the other half is a hodge-podge of Ukrainian, Russian, and Latvian (I think...)

7. I like pasta in all forms. Meaning I eat it hot, cold, AND dry (mmm, crunchy).

8. The other day, I was asked what super power I would have if I could have any super power I wanted. My answer was "The ability to eat anything and not gain weight and not get too full."

9. I HATE cream cheese. I've never tried it, but I hate the smell of it, the look of it, and what seems to be the texture of it. And when I was a kid, I hated every child who had it for breakfast and had shmears of it left over on his or her face. GROSS.

10. I'm a music major, but I rarely actually listen to music. I sing music, I learn about music, and music is one of the things I feel most passionate about in life. But I can't do anything very well while I listen to it (I guess it's a brain coordination thing) and most times it doesn't even occur to me to try.

11. I like to start things from square one and see them all the way through. Like laundry. I prefer to wait till everything is dirty, then wash ALL of it. One small load to get through the week? That's not okay with me.

12. I'm good at drawing. And coloring. I can teach myself any craft and master it pretty swiftly, but I'll get tired of it half way through and throw the materials (yarn? glitter? origami paper?) into this big box of reject arts supplies I have in my closet. My favorite craft is jewelry making. I have some pretty sweet earrings I made years ago.

13. Sometimes I talk to myself. Out loud. Usually behind the wheel.

14. I am SO gullible. My best friend when I was young used to tell me lies like "My house burned down!" because she knew I would believe them in a heartbeat. We're still friends, so clearly I'm also forgiving.

15. I hate confrontation. I avoid it at all costs.

16. I love love. I am at my happiest when I have someone to love.

17. I have a lot of fears... I would venture so far as to say I am afraid of almost everything, but not to the point where it prevents me from doing things that require a dose of bravery. I'm afraid of death and of dying young. I'm constantly scared of any and all public transportation. If you see me make a wide-eyed, terror-stricken expression on the subway sometime, it's nothing you said. I'm just convinced, at that moment, that I'm going to end up like some victim I saw on a Grey's Anatomy episode who had a subway pole driven through her abdomen. Just keep talking, I'll snap out of it.

18. But not on planes. I'm really scared of planes. The Boyfriend's mom was a flight attendant, and unfortunately I've had to veto listening to all of her exciting airplane stories.

19. For years, I had my mom (who's a chef) make me a birthday dinner that consisted of linguini with white clam sauce and greek salad. It was always the same thing and it was always delicious.

20. I like to be alone and I like to do things alone. I really enjoy going to restaurants myself, sitting with a book or a crossword puzzle, and having a salad and a cup of coffee.

21. I ran Cross Country and Indoor Track in high school for two years and I did middle distance. I started Cross Country because my friend asked me to, and I did Indoor Track as a way to get to know a boy... who I dated for four years after that. But I hated the sport. To this day, the sight of a distance race makes me want to vomit.

22. I am really, REALLY competitive. Over the years, I've been able to calm some of the overwhelming rage I feel when someone beats me in something, but I know it's still there. Little things, like a game of Trivial Pursuit at a party or a random sports event will bring it out. It scares even me.

23. I used to (and still can) play Alto, Tenor, and Baritone Saxophone. Bari is my favorite. I wish I played piano.

24. My middle name is Filomena. A lot of people know this about me, but the ones who don't are always surprised.

25. Along those same lines, I use "What's your middle name?" as a conversation starter/pick-up line. I know, I know, Number 25 should actually be "I'm totally pathetic."

And there you have it, 25 Random Facts about myself. None of them particularly interesting or exciting, but hey, at least you haven't been tagged and forced to do this yourself!

...As a side note, I love all past, present, and future presidents for making this holiday possible. Have a good President's Day, WMWC readers!

I Unabashedly Love Valentine's Day

And I always will.

I know it's super cool to be all edgy and anti the big V-Day, (or National Single Person Awareness Day, as a friend referred to it) but I just don't have it in me. First of all, I like chocolate too much. I get so bubbly and happy just looking at the pink and red Hershey's kisses I bought and put in a little bowl with a heart-shaped post-it note that says "Help Yourself! Someone Loves You!" (Yeah, I did that. Mostly I think I'm the one eating them.) 

I'm a sucker. I can't help it. I just can't.

You can go ahead and think I'm stupid, but I don't care. I think a holiday that's all about love isn't such a bad thing, if you think about it that way. Yes, full disclosure: I'm currently IN love. But I have plenty of other people in my life to love. Don't you? Didn't your mom ever give you a Valentine? Or your friends in elementary school? I mean, everyone clearly was forced to bring cards for the whole class, but didn't you secretly enjoy getting all those valentines in your little bag you got to decorate? Didn't you like making them?

I know what you're thinking. "Well, this girl has clearly never experienced why Valentine's Day can suck so exquisitely hard." Not true. Here's a story:

When I was in 2nd grade, I gave a Valentine to a boy I liked - but not just ANY Valentine. I liked to make my cards by hand (to add personal flair, of course) but for this boy, I put extra care and time into it. I used the prettiest doilies, cut the most perfect red heart I could, and then wrote a special message: "Love Ya! ...For Real."

Valentine's Day 2nd Grade: The First Time I Got My Heart Broken.

Here's how it went. My little crush thought my lovely handmade valentine was nothing short of hilarious, so he showed the whole class. Everyone. They laughed at me and teased me and I cried and cried and cried. For years, it was one of those memories that brought on an awful twinge of regret mixed with anger and hurt. Mmm, gotta love those memories. You know what I'm talking about.

But I got over it. These past few Valentine's Days, which I have spent single, have included no flowers or chocolate (bought by someone besides myself) or kisses or whatever. Yet the lingering possibility that someone, somewhere would come out of the woodwork and declare undying love for me made that day a little bit special. And getting Valentines from a few friends warmed my heart enough to make it a little bit more special.

So now here's the fun part: This year, I have a boyfriend (previously referred to as The Boyfriend... I like to keep continuity so you don't get confused.) He's amazing and sweet and handsome and, well, I'm not going to continue with any more starry-eyed, general terms. But he's perfect, he's mine, and he's going to be with me for Valentine's Day. And although that may make you, my WMWC readers, groan and make an "Ew, gross, blech, vomit, hate-my-life" face, please don't get down about Valentine's Day. Someone loves you - I do! I love you, whoever you are, so buy some chocolate, get yourself a rose, and do something nice for yourself.

If all else fails, the candy goes on sale February 15th. And I think THAT should be cause for celebration.

What Would You Do?

Yes polar bear, you may has an iceberg, but I has a fan!

I've been prompted to write again, because "the people" are dying for more! I've had requests (okay... request, singular) to put my exceptional prowess with the written word to work once again (sarcasm?). 

So I decided to write about yet another thing I saw on television. Inspired right?

Okay, cut me some slack. Tonight, while on the phone with the Boyfriend, I said something along the lines of "Tomorrow won't be a very difficult day for me! It'll be a pretty easy day, in fact." Then I recounted all those things I had to do tomorrow and realized I have a 9:30 A.M. to 9:30 P.M. day ahead of me... at least. And I STILL considered it an easy day.

Needless to say, I'm really effing busy. (We keep it clean here on WMWC, no actual F-bombs allowed. Although, if you know me, you know I have a really awkward habit of crying out "EFF!" instead of the actual word, so it's really staying true to my own natural tongue.)

But no more silly chatter. Now for the meat of the story. 

I was watching some TV with my roommate (BiddyLuddy is her blog, so BL is what I'll call her, from here on) when we started watching this weird show where they put (fake) babies in hot cars or abused (fake) nannies in public to see what people would do... Would they call the cops to save the baby? Would they smash the window in? Would they tell the nasty employer who was abusing her nanny to back off? Would it make a difference if she was a white nanny or a black nanny?

So many moral dilemmas. SO MANY. And my reaction was simple: 

I wouldn't.

Go ahead, judge me, but I'm just not that way. It's not like I don't have a moral compass, I just don't have the balls to say "Hey, you spoiled bitch, step away from that nanny and treat her with dignity!" It's not in my makeup. I'm not genetically composed to stand up for strangers or break into cars to save babies. Sure, I'll alert the cops, but I'm no super hero.

But I guess what got me about this show was the fact that they made me feel GUILTY for that. Here's an example of a scene, in a Brooklyn coffee shop, done by actors:

Obnoxious young brat child: You're MY nanny! My mom pays you! You're worthless and stupid and you DO WHAT I TELL YOU TO!

Nanny (of varying ethnicities) in a calm voice: Your mom pays me to take care of you.

Obnoxious young brat child: YOU'RE STUPID! I'LL TELL MY MOM YOU DIDN'T DO THE LAUNDRY AND SHE WILL FIRE YOU!

Announcer: Amazingly enough, the man sitting in the corner of the store doesn't approach the little girl. In fact, not a single person comes to the nanny's aid. You terrible, terrible people.

Okay, he did not, in fact, add the "Terrible people" line. But that's what I heard in my head, because I knew that that little 12-year-old tyrant would have scared me away. And I guess this blog post only goes to show that I'm still grappling with my own mild-manneredness, and possible curiosity as to whether the (aforementioned) girl-fight side of me would show up and kick some bratty child ass. Or grab the nearest metal pole and save that poor overheating baby! I don't know it because I've never been put in a situation like it, but maybe I AM the type to spring into action!

Yeah, I'm going to go with that...

...except I'm also just going to advise everyone out there not to test this theory either. Because chances are, if your baby's in that backseat, it's turning purple before I break a window.