That time I crawled out of my time capsule & tried to date.

I don’t know if any of y’all have ever been through a break-up, but since we’re human and you, reader, are probably of dating age so you’ve probably experienced some sort of I-like/d-you-but-it-didn’t-work-out scenario and it sucks, right?

I’d go as far as saying it blows.

(Yeah, I went there.)

But unless you’re a total nutcase, nobody enjoys the feeling of someone reaching into your chest Indiana Jones style and tearing your heart out.

My heart got ripped out at the beginning of this year when my boyfriend of four years and I decided to call it quits due to life and adulting. It took me a while to scoop the bits of my heart goo off the floor and squeeze it back into my chest hole. It was hard; I still get sad sometimes.

*seemingly long, sad, awkward silence that actually only lasts four seconds*

But let’s move on, to something a little more amusing, yeah?

I decided to get back into the “dating game” by downloading Tinder and spending hours swiping and taking Reddit-worthy screenshots, usually while taking a bubble bath. It was a really weird, yet relaxing thing I did. But it seriously confused me…this is what I missed in 4 years? This is what we do now? This is what modern romance has been reduced to? A slight thumb movement to the right?

I mean, kind of.

I didn’t actually intend to meet anyone from Tinder in real life because I kind of liked watching my ego slowly inflate like a pathetic air mattress as strangers “liked” my face. I also didn’t want to take it much further than that because social awkwardness….until one night.


My friend and I went out to a bar to be adults, and we both ended up drunk, and my friend took my phone and asked some random Tinder match I had been chatting with to come meet us at the bar. We’ll call him Pat.

It was midnight, and Pat showed up, regardless of the fact he was 20-30 minutes away. By the time he got there I was completely sober and it was very, very uncomfortable and my emergency stash of social skills was running very, very low. He was 30-something, wore socks with sandals, and had the most ridiculous pseudo-Californian Surfer Valley Dude accent I’ve ever heard in my life. Each word dragged on for at least five unnecessary seconds longer than it should’ve. After probably a half hour of being cordial and laughing awkwardly and trying not to touch his being with my being by accident, we ended up leaving after he repeatedly asked for us to stay or go to another bar. We exchanged a very awkward hug, I slithered into an Uber and disappeared into the darkness.

I woke up the next day with my phone blown up with his texts that sort of went something like this:

Pat: Hi

Pat: Good morning

Pat: I had a lot of fun last night

Pat: Did you have fun?

Pat: Oh so we’re playing that game

Pat: I see how it is

Pat: Can you give me your friend’s number?

Me: WHAT?

Pat: Ha! Got you to respond.

Me: I was sleeping.

Pat: That’s what they all say.

Needless to say, it didn’t work out. He asked me for criticism of the date and him in general to which I said he might want to chill on the multiple texting. I want to say he heeded my advice, but I saw him still on Tinder the other day so I guess not.


I met a dude at a Fourth of July party at the beach house of a CEO who, for some reason, likes me enough to invite me to her vacation home. We can refer to this dude as Undercut, because he had an undercut hairstyle and after seeing it I realized I had a weird fetish for this haircut but that’s something we’re not going to discuss today.

Or probably ever.

Anyway, so Undercut was there and I hadn’t flirted in over four years so my attempt of flirting with this dude was to insult him like little kids do in Elementary School. I don’t know why my mind automatically went, “This guy is attractive, better come off as a total douche nozzle” but it did. I don’t know how to feel about my primal reaction to a possible mate being making myself as unattractive as possible, so let’s not overthink it. If I was an endangered animal my species would be extinct if it was up to me to keep it going.

I tried to redeem myself for this behavior by casually showing up at the bar he worked at over the following weeks and being amiable. We had small talk, but nothing earth-shattering, but still I was determined to go on a date and do whatever people my age do when they think someone’s cute. Touch his face? Something? What do I do with my hands? I’m not sure.

After about four visits to the bar, I was chatting with him outside before I left and mustered up the lady balls to ask him out. I had been reading a dating book and it basically Shia LaBeouf‘d me and told me to JUST DO IT. It went a little something like this:

Me: So, hey, would you want to get coffee sometime?

Undercut: Maaaybe

Me: “Maybe”?

Undercut: Sure. I mean, should I give you my number? Is that unorthodox?

Me: *nervous laughter because this is not going as planned and I temporarily forgot what “unorthodox” meant*

Undercut: *puts number in my phone* My name’s Undercut.

Me: I know your name…

Driving home I listened to Beyonce’s “Run the World” on repeat because I felt like a BO$$. I felt like I was in an episode of an empowering female-centric cable series and that I was supposed to go home and drink a giant glass of wine and jump around on the couch in my underwear in celebration of my ballsyness.

I texted him the next day.

Me: Hey, it’s Kelly from last night. How’s it going? I was wondering if you wanted to get that coffee or something sometime next week.

Undercut: Hi, I’m good.

Undercut: Yeah the thing is I might be sort of seeing someone but hanging out could still be a possibility.

Undercut: Do you hate me?

Me: Yeah…I totally hate you. No, it’s fine, whatever you’re comfortable with… We could always just hang with friends or something. Just let me know.

Undercut: Ok. I’m working tonight at the bar.

Me: Cool! I’m not working…

And then I went and dug a hole in my backyard and promptly curled up into it and died.

I actually saw him last week for the first time since this incident at a different bar. I was sitting with some friends and I hear behind me “K…Kelly? Kelly…..?” and I turned around and boom there’s Undercut, who no longer has an undercut, who now is just Dude With Normal Hair That Smokes Cigarettes Apparently.

We briefly chatted, I resisted the urge to yell “WHY DIDN’T YOU CALL ME I’M A VERY DESIRABLE INDIVIDUAL IF YOU HAVEN’T NOTICED” and I left.

Thought for a moment that he’d text me or Facebook request me after that.

He didn’t.

But it’s fine because I heard he’s notorious for crying before/after/during sex.

I’m baaaaaaaaaack.

It’s Britney bitch, and I’m back.

 

Hello followers, I haven’t seen you since…the great war.

*stares longingly into the distance*

Or since college, I guess. Same thing.

Since I want to do something with my degree other than wipe dust up with it, I said to myself, “Hey, Kelly, you should try blogging again” to which I replied, “Well, Kelly, who’s going to read it? How are you any different than any other ‘twenty-something’ that literally can’t even?” to which I said back, “Fuck if I know, but you might as well try.”

And here we are, thus creating Talking At Myself.

I’ll try to post regularly. I’ll try to refrain from telling you about how all I want to do is eat a whole sleeve of Oreos while sitting on my couch alone Netflix bingeing without a bra on and I haven’t showered in days and men are terrible and I just want cats and I LITERALLY CANNOT. CAN’T EVEN.

Give me a break, ladies.

I’ll catch you on the FLIPPITY FLIP. With a new post…coming up…

soon.

Thoughts on TWD Premiere.

If you haven’t seen the most recent episode of the Walking Dead: first of all you’re not missing anything and secondly just don’t read this if you plan on watching it.

I’ve unfortunately seen all the episodes of TWD. I loved the first few episodes of the first season and I trudged along with the series until it became slightly interesting in season 3. I was always frustrated at the writing…and acting…and story overall. I thought, maybe season 4 will be better. 

Nope.

The fact is, America loves zombies. Hell, not even just America, there are people EVERYWHERE that love zombies. It doesn’t take much to get people to watch a  show as long as there are zombies in it most of the time.

The thing that bothers me is that if TWD spent as much time on the writing and storyline as they do on the walkers and makeup and whatever…it might actually be an overall decent show. I’ve yet to read the graphic novels (/comics?), but I’ve played the TellTale Games TWD game and it was phenomenal. So, you know, it is possible to have a good story and blood and guts.

I was disinterested almost the entire premiere. The dialogue was bad, the story was bad (and don’t give me this ‘OH THEY’RE STILL SETTING UP THE SCENE’ crap), and it just wasn’t scary. TWD used to scare me, but they’ve made the mistake from confusing just gross with scary. A walker dangling from it’s intestines by a ceiling? That’s just gross. The scene in season 1 where Rick is on the horse and he is being followed by walkers? That’s scary. That’s unsettling. That’s one of the moments when the show actually tried, in my opinion.

The attempt at character development and subplots were just pathetic. For example:

1. Maggie might be pregnant omg there’s a shot of Glenn looking at a baby frame omg they have a talk about living.

2. Tyreese doesn’t like doing anything apocalyptic-ish. He’s smooching some woman.

3. Carl’s a BIG BOY NOW.

4. Some of the kids are fucked up. LET’S NAME THE WALKING CORPSE NICK. noomgdon’tdoitthatsmean

5. Carol is teaching kids how to use knives and she may or may not have a little thing with Daryl? This is the only part I didn’t mind. I love all the Daryl and Carol shit. Caryl 4evr.

6. The new guy who’s been there for a week is an ex-army medic…and wanted wine real bad. Alcoholic? WHO KNOWS IT’S ANYONE’S GUESS REALLY.

7. Michonne (another character I don’t mind) is going to Macon (ugh I miss the game) and I don’t know why..

8. The kid with the glasses had the flu or something and now he’s dead and he’s going to eat everyone…..but seriously how can he see without his glasses? Do walkers automatically get 20/20 vision when they turn? How does that work really?

Anyway, so I foresee the following episode going either way: Someone will find the nearsighted zombie kid and stab him in the face and they develop new rules~~~~ or he bites everyone and all hell breaks lose and the old guy with the beard (Santa? I forgot his name already?) is sad about losing his crops.

I really don’t know why people watch the show. I really don’t even know why I did. I think it’s because they leave you on a cliffhanger every single episode and I feel obligated to watch it in hopes that the show actually gets better.

It doesn’t.

Ugh.

Also can I just say how infuriated I got after seeing this?

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TV viewers make me so sad.

Also, I love how they just threw the baby in at the last second.

Pull yourself together guys.

Ugh.

Things I Wish People Told Me Before I Went to College

I recently graduated from good ol’ Emerson and am embarking on my job hunting journey (and by “journey” I mean I’m sulking in front of my macbook in my gym shorts) and realizing more and more that there are things I wish people told me before I went to this school.

Here are a few~~

1. You’re going to gain weight (and probably lots of it).

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Freshman year probably isn’t so bad because your diet mainly consists of alcohol (I mean, what?) and laxative-ish cafeteria food. Once you get the stupid classes out of the way (Writing 101, How to Speak in Front of People 102…) you spend more and more time…sitting. Sitting…and eating…especially if you’re in an apartment or a super fancy dorm with a kitchen.

My lovely boyfriend once said “people serious about school gain weight in college”–and I just say “smart people get fat in college.” It’s true though, for most people.

It’s extremely difficult to balance social life, extracurriculars, work, schoolwork, blahblahblahblahblah, sleep, and exercise. It’s hard! By the time you’re done with your work you just want to curl up in bed and sleep.

Don’t worry about it, though. Do your best and buy some sweats (not sweets) and resist the urge to sit at your computer, eat ice cream, and cry during finals time (or just do it…#YOLO).

2. Do extracurriculars or things that look like “experience” on your resume.

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I did a few extracurriculars and an internship in college and I probably have a year or two of experience total. I thought, “Oh man, I’m all set! I’m going to get all the jobs! I went to this great school and got good grades and yeah! Who wouldn’t want me on their staff?!!?!!?!!!11”

Then I went on monster.com (and indeed, and mediabistro, and jobscore, and kill me :'() and I have found that most of them are looking for 3+ years of experience.

Oh.

Maybe I should’ve done more clubs and been one of those crazy people that cry all the time and don’t sleep and do like 90 clubs a day…?

3. Save your money. Dammit. 

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(Huell is reasonably happy about this picture.)

Resist buying the eco-friendly lavender organic humane vegan gluten free hand soap. Try not to spend $50 on drinks. Once you graduate, and you move back home with mom (or in my case…mom..brother..grandparents) you’re going to wish you didn’t buy all those games on Steam or dresses on the sale rack at Express.

4. Do an internship…or five.

Film Review The Internship

(I chose this picture because of the colorful bikes.)

I actually did this! Well, one. And God, I’m glad I did. Connections are so important…which reminds me…

5. Learn what “networking” means.

bears-shaking-hands

My freshman year of college I didn’t know what four loco was, let alone “networking.” But it’s important. Get advice from professors, get in touch with alum, make a LinkedIn profile. I’d say go to networking events but I’ve never been and they sound scary and I’m probably too socially awkward to go to one.

6. Produce things you can show your potential employers so they know you know what you’re doing.

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If you’re a film major, you need to produce more than a video you took on your iPod when you were 16. If you’re a writing major, well…write something. Keep a blog (something I didn’t have time for..oops), submit stuff to newspapers. Something that won’t make you look like a total derp.

7. Make room for you time

gamerKitten

…if you know what I mean 😉

Just kidding. There’s a certain point while you’re doing work and your brain just starts to fizzle out and you begin to crave gummy bears and want to curl up in a fuzzy blanket and sleep/die. Don’t push through it and become a psychotic, miserable mess. Take a five minute break, lie on your bed, look at some cat gifs, and then proceed.

Also, go out once and a while. I don’t mean go get $w@st3d and go to class, but try to have fun. After freshman/sophomore year shit usually starts to get real, but make sure to get some you time in there–no matter how you define it.

8. Looking for a job is going to suck regardless of how great [you think] you are.

Augh

Unless you’re one of those people who get a job the week after graduation. In that case,

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What it feels like to graduate college

1. Finally! I’m graduating! The moment I’ve waited for for 16 years!

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2. Oh my God. I’m graduating.

ginny WHAT

3. Okay, try not to panic.

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4. Try not to panic.

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(But resumes! And job applications! And loans! And!)

5. Okay I’m fine. No, this is good. No more papers! Ever again!

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6. But…I’m going to miss college. 

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7. And what do I do in September? I’ll be…unemployed?

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8. I’ll have to move back home?!

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9. And apply for jobs?!

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10. But wait, I finally have a chance to relax.

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11. And read some books [that I actually choose for myself].

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12. Maybe I’ll catch up with some old friends. 

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13. I’ll finally have some time to work off the “Freshman 15.”

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(Or college 15-25, let’s be real.)

14. And sure, I’ll get a job. I worked hard to get here!

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15. It might be difficult, but it’ll all be worth it in the end.

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What do I want to do with my LIFE? (Part 1 of ~365)

Well, here it is. I’m at the infamous crossroads between adulthood and adulthood. Between college and “the real world.” Between headaches and bigger headaches.

You get the gist.

I’m currently graduating next month (August 12th if you want to be specific) and I am terrified. 

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I love going to school in Boston, but I’m moving back to the smallest (and possibly most boring state) at the end of August and trying to not be poor. Or something. Because right now I’m like 

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I’m getting my BA in writing, literature, and publishing so basically I’d like to think I have options…but then again at my little part time job every time I tell someone “Oh, I’m going into magazines/writing” they respond with something like, “Oh no sweetie, all the magazines are shutting down!”

Thanks.

But then sometimes people tell me how great it is that I can write and went to college and I feel like saying, “Oh well that’s all well and good, let’s hope I use my writing skills for more than filling out a Burger King application!” hyuck hyuck hyuck.

I guess it’s not really a problem of what I want to do, it’s basically where I want to do it. I already know what I want to do! I want to be able to write for a magazine, or online, and if that doesn’t work I am a great editor/copy editor (you know, when I’m not sitting at my blog in gym clothes eating a pb&j). 

I’ve seen things like this 

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from Slate

that show me that my best bet is in NYC. But here’s the thing: I don’t really want to live in NYC. Without getting too serious/depressing/boring, I don’t do very well with…seasons. I get kind of sad in the winter time, and want to head somewhere a little more sunny. And consistent. You know, like maybe California? LA is 2nd on that journalism job list, but there are probably over double the amount of opportunities in NYC than in LA. But when you read things on the internet about LA vs. NYC it’s hard to motivate yourself to think living in another city that’s dark and wet and cold for 1/3 of the year (or more?!) is appealing. 

At the same time, I think I’m young enough to make a “mistake” and spend some time in LA. Even if I hate it and move away, I mean hey, at least I made a mistake in LA. How bad could that be? Pretty bad for my wallet, but I mean…otherwise.

We’ll have to see where it goes. But for now, I’m stuck in Boston for another month so I may as well enjoy it.

If any of you readers here live in LA or NYC (or have lived in both?!) let me know your thoughts!