The Dirty Thirty
Oh, hey there. Long time no see. I know that I definitely have a little ‘splanin to do. I kind of just went MIA without any warning. Sorry about that, by the way.
The thing about the Single Girls Guide is that it sort of took on a life of its own at some point. At first it was just me being an idiot and complaining about guys being douchebags to us. Then I became the leader to an army of Beyoncé-chanting singles. What could be better, honestly? We were in it together. But like any adorable aging blonde such as myself, my life was moving forward and I wasn’t necessarily going to stay single. I would be out in the world holding hands with someone I was hoping would want to call me a trophy wife one day, and one of you nosy little readers would see me and be all, “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You’re supposed to be single!” And I’d be like, “Hey, stop c*ck-blocking.”
Then people would say that I should be writing about the relationships that I’m in and out of during the time I’m posting Single Girls Guides. But here’s the thing about that that you have to understand: I try to only write about relationships once I’ve been removed from it enough to have some perspective. We never know our mistakes while we’re actively making them. And we don’t always even know how real our feelings are until we’re looking back on them. Don’t you think its strange that you can look back on someone who you thought you were more in love with than you could ever be again, and now when you think of them, you’re like, “HIM?!?! No no, I never loved that idiot. Look at him.” So, what if I was writing about him during the time I loved him? I’m the one who has to live with that bad decision. Maybe I’m getting a little defensive. That sounds like something I would do.
The point is that I’m ready to broaden the scope of the knowledge I drop, here at HelloGiggles. Do I know a lot about being single and pissed? Yes. But I also know a lot about walking around with a visible bruise from getting Botox. And that’s something I may not have been able to touch on when trying to stick to the dating topic. And getting Botox brings me to the subject that I’m gonna be turning thirty this year. In three months and fourteen days to be exact. Part of me couldn’t be happier to finally exit my twenties that seemed to be filled with self doubt and bad hair color choices. The other part of me is like, “I’m sorry, did you say Lady Gaga is FOUR years YOUNGER than me?!”.
So when I was getting Botox, or “a facial” as I call it when my boyfriend asks me where I’ve been all morning, the doc was like, “You should make an appointment for one of my lasers. It’s good for women in their early thirties”. I was like, “Yeah, I’m sure it is. Luckily I’m much younger than that.” Then he looked at me with this sad face that said, ‘Aww, she isn’t going to age with any grace at all.’ So I gracefully asked him to make sure he got every drip of that poison in my forehead.
I think I used to use my youth as a reason to not fully commit to anything. I always felt like I would do it another time when it all felt more important. It’s okay to have a dirty car, I’m 18, who cares? My handwriting is legible, that’s all that matters, I’m 22. I stayed with him because he really liked me and that feels exciting, it’s not like I was gonna marry him, I’m 25. The funniest thing happened today, my bank account has insufficient funds, but whatever, I’m only 27…
That s**t isn’t cute anymore. The truth is that it never was. But clearly I’m a little late to the game on that one. And as I near my third decade, I’m ready to act like a grown up. A real one. I don’t want to brag about not knowing how to cook, or never making my bed or eating a bagel for dinner. 30 is the cut off year for that kind of nonsense. So, I’m vowing to make a change here and now. And that will be the topic of my posts from now until I think the subject is boring. Or, I guess if you guys say its boring. The dirty thirty. Bring it on.
