33 Before 33: 1

1. Take Notes

It’s 11pm on New Years Eve and I’m home alone going over my Moleskin which has a detailed account of my year in full. I purposely opted to stay in tonight. I’m content with my own (100% sober) company and knowing I will go into 2017 restful and without a hang over. I don’t even have a bottle of wine open, guys. 

At the end of 2015 I purchased a notebook with the intention of writing my day-to-day accounts. My notes involve everything from who I saw that day, where I went, where I ate, if I went to the gym, if I had a hang over, and various other random details.

It sounds like an obsessive thing to do, but it helps me appreciate the small things.

I’m glad I stuck to it, because now I have 366 days of data to tell me I should probably drink a little less, save a bit more and say “fuckit, why not” at all the appropriate times.

If I was extremely motivated I could use this data to design a personal year-in-review but I’m too lazy for that. Eventually I’ll tally it all up because I am very curious about specific numbers like how many bars I visited or how many times I saw my parents.

I’m not one for actual resolutions so on the first page before the year starts I handwrite 2 columns: “More” and “Less”, I then write whatever it is I’d like to improve upon. At the end of the year I can reflect on whether or not I had any progress in these avenues of life.

Currently my 2017 lists are extremely similar their 2016 counterparts. My priorities are still the same but my progress still needs work.

But what’s really new, right? 

Dear 2017,
Please be nice.
Love, K8

33 Before 33: 2

2. Take the L’s with grace

Not everything is going to be a win.

Life is full of trials, errors, failures, heartbreak and losses. They are unavoidable.

2016 as a whole wasn’t that great for me. Personal statistics show that I don’t do so well on leap years. That’s ok though.

Eventually I’ll get a few major wins.

I could be salty when it comes to my divorce, Ex-Mr, and watching everyone else experience amazing milestone after milestone, but I see no point in that. No fluffy bullshit, I’m just not one to harness resentment. It’s too much negative energy for me. I don’t operate that way.

Also, social media might be a general platform for life’s announcements but it provides no actual gauge on happiness. I’ll count everyone else’s “victories” as I see fit.

2016 wasn’t my year, there will be others that are. 

I’ll take the L and move forward. #20L6

33 Before 33: 3

3. Understand the 5 Love Languages

Apparently there are 5 ways humans express and receive love.

I was having lunch in NY when someone suggested I look up the 5 Love Languages. I had never heard of them before, but they make a ton of sense. You take a quiz and it ranks the 5 types from high to low based on your individual preferences.

We don’t interpret love in the same ways. What you value could be completely different from your partner or your loved ones. By understanding the various types and how those around you perceive love you can improve your relationships.

I’ll share them in the order ranked highest to lowest from my own results. FYI the highest you can score on any particular language is 12.
 

Quality Time

Personal score: 11

My IG profile reads: “Better late than never, but never late is better.” They’re Drake lyrics (DUH), but it’s the line that follows after that is true key to my heart: “They tell me time is money, well we’ll spend it together.” 

Time is expensive. Undivided attention is even more valuable. I am never on my phone on dates or while hanging out with my friends. It’s rude. Flakiness and de-prioritizing time scheduled with me is offensive, personally. 

Words of Affirmation

Personal score: 10

Flattery and compliments can get you everywhere. 

Gas. Me. Up.

I don’t know if it’s because I’m a Leo. I don’t know if it’s because I value words as a form of expression so highly—but I thrive on kind words. I notice when they are not being given just as much as when they are. The men that fail to deliver even a simple “You look nice” on our first date don’t do so well with me.
 

Physical Touch

Personal score: 5

You’d think that since I value the quality of sex in a relationship so much that physical touch would rate higher, but I’m not very “touchy” to begin with. PDA’s freak me out. Although I will hold your hand and kiss you on the cheek, publicly.

My declaration of love by physical touch is simple, I rub the back of your head, fresh haircut or not. 
 

Acts of Service

Personal score: 2

I am wildly independent. Early on my father taught me not to rely too much on outside help. Ex-Mr was the same way. I am used to accomplishing tasks myself to ensure they get done properly. I’m not accustomed to having things done for me even as thoughtful gestures.

Although once someone took the time to get quarters for me (for laundry) because I kept mentioning how forgetful I was to drop by the bank. I was pleasantly surprised by the gesture. Maybe I’m just not used to thoughtful acts, which is a shame.

I still wanna have someone fold clothes for me, a la J. Cole.

Receiving Gifts

Personal score: 2

I have always said presence is greater than presents, thus the 11 score for qt. 

I have never been big on actual gifts, experiences are more my style. I also don’t like clutter and I’m very particular about aesthetics when it comes to the objects I keep/use. I understand it’s the thought that counts, so keep the gifts coming regardless. 

33 Before 33: 4

4. Solitude can be sweet

I’ll be the first to admit that if the condition “LONELY AF” could be cured by a prescription pill I would run to the doctors office. I can deal with a lot of bullshit but loneliness is my greatest challenge. These days I have a pretty good grasp on it and have various coping mechanisms in place, however it remains a constant struggle of mine. I can never tell when a wave of the feelz wants to hit me.

Last night I was asked the back-handed compliment/question:

“WHY ARE YOU SINGLE???”

Mees always tells me I’m single by choice. I think that’s a fair assessment, honestly. If I wanted a boyfriend I could probably obtain one, fairly easily. If the goal was to just have a man on my arm I could check that off the list. BUT I’m holding out for love, fireworks and the right timing. It takes an entire confluence of the proper circumstances to start a healthy relationship.

I could have Mr. Right Now, I’ll wait for Mr. Right.

Not to mention, my curve game is R I D I C U L O U S. I’m still picky-AF despite giving up on the search for a unicorn.

After growing into adulthood with a man by my side for 11 years I had to learn how to adjust to being completely by myself. It was a rough transition, hell, I’m still trying to figure out. Regardless of battling loneliness I am not quick to give my time away. Being single has given me a new appreciation for alone time. 

I like my own company. I love aimlessly wandering through the city with a good mix blasting on my headphones without an exact destination in mind. I enjoy getting breakfast at new places and catching up on my daily journal without having to make small talk with anyone. I’ve found a strong sense of independence by getting on planes solo, time and time again. 

Solitude can be sweet after all.

Also, this meme is me. Joking. ;-)

33 Before 33: 5

5. Chivalry is not dead

Online dating is extremely difficult. You get to widen your pool however dealing with complete strangers is a pain. It’s hard to prove you are worthy of anyone’s time or money, even after you spend a week texting. Ohh, btw they’re going to text you intermittently—whenever its convenient for them. You haven’t deemed yourself worthy of a quick text back yet. Or maybe they’re just crappy texters… Either way—you’re screwed.

In the world of modern dating chivalry appears to be dead. No one wants to be held accountable for anything, men are aloof and distant. Then again, so am I. 

However despite the dating bullshit I have to go through I can honestly say that chivalry is not dead, my boys prove this fact—constantly.

They set a high precedence—the best part is, I’ve had platonic relationships with them for years and that is never going to change. My vagina is not an option.

My boys never let me pay for the first drink. They buy tickets to events and sometimes insist I don’t need to pay them back. For my birthday a few of them showed up with Jameson, Asti champagne, balloons and a Drake-related card. There are some nights where I never pull my wallet out (I then insist on Venmo-ing them $ the next day). Once in a while they gas me up so hard with compliments I have to remind myself that I ain’t shit, just so my ego doesn’t go into hyperdrive. I get “Have a good day,” “Be safe, text me when you get home” and all other types of courtesy messages at the appropriate times.

For those of you who might scoff at what sounds like my ability to use my feminine charm to my advantage, I do my part in return. I buy rounds, I chip in for gifts, I am present at all birthday functions and make sure the birthday boy isn’t responsible for anything except getting faded. I try to be as generous as I can manage throughout my friendships.

Although I have to deal with fuckboy texts and flaky men on the dating front I’m glad I have my boys to prove that good men exist.

33 Before 33: 6

6. Can I live?

I’ve been on a string of lackluster dates recently.

Everyone wants to play devil’s advocate when it comes to my dating life. 

When I sound bored with the men trying to come at me you say I didn’t give them enough of a chance. When you hear me sounding indifferent yet still proceeding to be in touch you ask me why. 

WHICH IS IT?!?

I complained to Law that these men deliver such generic questions, one after another. No witty or clever twist, just extremely basic interview type questions that make me want to pull the plug on the conversation entirely. Why is that so frustrating for me? Because. I am romantically allergic to squarish-nice-guys. I have a difficult time finding them stimulating or interesting.

Law is glaringly aware of this and decided it was an opportune moment to lecture me again: “KATE… I’m trying to get you to realize that the next man in your life might not be witty or clever but he will probably adore you, kiss the ground you walk on, blah blah blah…”

Yeah yeah, dude. He’s never gonna get discovered if he can’t hang conversationally, he won’t make it past the first cut.

I’ve prepped myself to compromise, I swear. I’m not looking for a unicorn these days, I promise. I’ve thrown a ton of deal-breakers out the window. However I ask for a lot of personality, I’m accustomed to a lot of personality. I'M A LOT OF PERSONALITY. I’m asking for compatibility which hopefully leads to passion, because I want fire.

I won’t settle for less than fire. It doesn’t have to be blazing 24/7, but enough to keep us warm at night.

I recently had a heart-to-heart with someone who told me that her marriage was lacking passion. 6 years in and she’s wondering if this is just going to be “it” for the rest of her life. We’re the same age, 33. Sure, he’s a great guy. He’s a breadwinner, caring and loving, but he doesn’t join her on the dance floor when her favorite song comes on. He doesn't join her on the dance floor—at all. He doesn’t care to test her on her Spanish, which she has been trying to learn for the past year, just for her own personal accomplishments. He doesn’t take her in the heat of the moment and lead her to the bedroom to fuck her into oblivion.

Personally I would rather refrain from entering a safe and secure commitment if it means I am lacking other aspects I value so much. I’d rather continue the search and keep myself open for the man that gives me butterflies, makes my heart soar and my vagina sore.

See what I did there? ;-)

33 Before 33: 7

7. Control what (you think) you can

I’ve been told countless times that there is no analytic formula to finding love. I could go on 100 dates and there are no guarantees that any single one of those could lead to anywhere. As a matter of fact that actually sounds exhausting as fuck, I won’t even try. So I get it, I can’t control who I love and when it happens. The numbers games and the dating apps don’t seem to work for me. We’re already familiar with my take on fate, timing and modern romance.

I have no control. Ok. I accept that.

In 2017 I’ve decided to focus on 3 parts of my life of which I feel I have authority over.

1. My career

I set up a casual meeting with my boss for the first day we return to work in 2017. My calendar invite preface was simple: I want a promotion within the next year. I would like to know what I have to do to ensure that happens. After receiving the invite my boss walked over to my desk and quickly gave me the low down of how the process works within the company. It takes 18 months of employment to be evaluated from one title to the next. He also told me he thinks I’m underpaid, but we’ll talk about that in January.

UNDERPAID? Seriously? Clearly I don’t think so… I mainly want the Sr. title, the pay bump was not a priority… But hey, if you say so—sure.

2. Dog ownership

I’ve never had a pet. I’ve never had to be responsible for anything alive except for myself and Ex-Mr. I’ve been mentally preparing myself for the idea of a dog all year. It’s not that I’m worried about the responsibility involved, it’s just obvious its going to change my lifestyle. I currently do whatever I want, whenever I want. However I’ve slowed my pace down significantly in the second half of 2016. The dog is a solution to company and love I am lacking, I’m expecting the trade-off to have amazing results. I might not be able to spend a lazy sunday with a man in bed with me all day, but something else will.

3. Travel

I’ve drunkenly agreed to 3 international trips in 2017, 2 of which I have zero intentions of following through with. See this is where I play the numbers game, also the highest bidder gets my travel companionship, meaning the group who has the best probability of execution. When it comes to traveling you don’t talk about it—you be about it. Until some of my friends stop using their PTO and paychecks for music festivals we’re not going to be getting stamps on our passports together. I’m just saying, guys. 

I’m also hoping I can finesse a trip to Australia out of my company. Those are some high hopes, but I'm going to continue planting seeds.

- - - - -

Jesus take the wheel. I’ll steer what I can.

33 Before 33: 8

8. Quality D is major key

I had really shitty sex the other night.

Really. Shitty. Sex.

It’s alright, you can laugh.

To be fair, I needed to get it over with. I’ve been anxious as fuck at the thought of sleeping with someone new. Prior to this the last time I had sex it was still connected to love. Just like my second virginity I needed something to distance me from emotional sex. So I took the random opportunity and ran with it, unfortunately the D was straight garbage. 2016 has been full of L’s, it’s not a surprise that we’re just adding to the pile. 

Sex with someone new is always weird to me. I try not to be sober the first time around. I’m awkward, I don’t necessarily like being touched or cuddled by strange men, it’s too intimate. That sounds weird right?

Hey, our privates can touch—but you can’t touch me.

IDK, man. My comfort grows over time. I get there, eventually.

I recently read that a woman’s sexual peak is in her early 30’s. After discovering this I called Law and said: YO, I’M WASTING AWAY THE BEST SEXUAL YEARS OF MY LIFE!

I honestly don’t think this holds true for me. I’ve had a high sex drive since I hit puberty. I don’t care what the studies show, I’ll probably still be trying to get it in wayyyyy into my senior years. Probably.

However I did kinda freak out on the phone with Law, we came to the realization that until I know what the D is like—I can’t like you, and I have to discover this early enough in the process. Quality D has always been high on the priorities list, this fact just gets reiterated whenever I experience bad sex.

I can understand if our rhythms don’t match the first time around. I can grade you on your effort. HOWEVER the moment you are lazy, selfish or BOTH that is unforgivable. The worst D out there is the type that’s unaware.

Pro Tip: Figure out what she likes. Be a giver. Check on her. DUH. OBVIOUSLY

33 Before 33: 9

9. Don’t ask permission, just ask forgiveness

In order for my mother and I to coexist in peace and harmony I have to conceal a majority of my life from her. I realize that sounds harsh, but moms are gonna be moms and mine is traditional and conservative. I’m sure she would love for me to be a more lady-like, less-outspoken version of myself who keeps her ass at home safe 90% of the time.

When I was going through the divorce I asked my mom how she felt about breast augmentation. She looked me straight in the face and said: 

“NO, KATE. NO. YOU’RE NOT GETTING BREAST IMPLANTS. NO.”

I was legitimately considering trading my engagement ring to fund the surgery, a slight “Fuck You” to Ex-Mr. My mother continued to plead her case: “If a man is going to love you, he’s going to love you as you are.”

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I know. *Rolls eyes*

I honestly don’t think I was that serious. I was just broken and hurt at the time, sometimes when you can’t fix yourself on the inside you think adjusting the exterior will help. 

She used to have me repeatedly promise to her that I would not get breast implants EVERY TIME I went back to New York. We would be saying goodbye on an airport curb and she would have me say "I will not get breast implants" before I got on my flight. True story. 

When I got my right inner bicep tattoo she didn’t speak to me for 30 hours on a trip home. I clocked it. 30 hours. She couldn’t even look at me. I had to promise not to get any more. If it were solely up to me I would have an extremely prominent forearm tattoo by now, but as much as I want it—I don’t want to go through WWIII with my mom.

Once she told me I need to stop traveling so much, she thinks a man can’t “catch me” since I always have a plane ticket booked somewhere. I know she’s just worried, I never talk to her about dating or men or prospects and being the traditional woman that she is she just wants me to have a partner accompany me through life. Trust me, I want that too—but not for the reasons she thinks I need one. 

I’m currently in the process of getting my dream dog. I don’t want to tell her because I have a feeling she’s just going to think I’ve given up on finding a man. She’ll also try to talk me out of it because she know’s I’m busy and that her and my dad are going to be responsible for the dog whenever I decide its time to gallivant. 

I’m not asking permission for the dog tho, I’m an adult dammit. I’ll just ask forgiveness when they need to dog sit. 

33 Before 33: 10

10. Know your limitations when you’re high

I have previously explained that I consume edibles on a nightly basis to fall and stay asleep. The medicinal value is unparalleled to anything else I've tried naturally. After a few of years of trial and error I think I’ve finally figured out how to dose myself perfectly. However as long as I've relied on it I will fully admit I am a lightweight. My abilities to function even slightly normal while high are laughable. I avoid the obvious, I will never drive or operate heavy machinery, but I swear… I. Can’t. Do. Any. Thing. 

I can’t socialize

I can’t hold a conversation. I can’t verbalize a complete thought, especially one relevant to the topic at hand. I can’t comprehend what anyone is saying to me unless they repeat themselves multiple times. I am glaringly aware of how I sound and as a self-conscious auto-defense mechanism—I SHUT DOWN. I become mute, except for random laughter OR a few confessions of how high I am. I’ve learned to avoid this because my friends don’t appreciate my company in this state. I just exist, wrapped in a blanket in their presence. In result I don’t take edibles within 45 minutes of expected socializing time, because the moment I do… the clock ticks down.
 

I can’t watch tv/movies with intricate details.

I swear I need to watch the last three episodes of "Westworld" over again. The dialogue in my head sounds like the following:

Wait. What?
WAIT. WHAT?
WHAT?
UGH. I’ll just have someone explain it to me tomorrow.

"Interstellar" was been recommended to me numerous times before I finally decided to put it on. That’s probably one of the worst ideas I've had. Ever. I got lost quickly, then proceeded to keep it on because, simply… I was high.
 

I can’t write.

We can thank my low-key paranoia for this one. (Disclaimer: If this post doesn’t make any sense, you have your answer.) I’ve tried drafting posts as soon as the chocolate hits and they are almost always futile attempts. A majority of my thoughts go in circles, I can never figure out the point of why I tried to write in the first place. *SHRUGS* Although when I have a direct subject (as I do right now), somehow I manage. 
 

I shouldn’t eat snacks.

When you’re high you think calories don’t count. IT’S DUMB. I go in and out of phases of being able to control the munchies. It’s a 50/50 battle. I told you, I’m a lightweight. I will consume food simply because of the texture, sometimes I just want to taste a certain flavor. I could definitely go without this side effect.

Pro-Tip:
Try and try again. Sometimes I try to test all these preconceptions I just mentioned. Sometimes I manage—LIKE NOW. Most of the time—I don’t. At least I managed to write another post.

1 down. 9 to go.

33 Before 33: 11

11. The Story is Already Written

I like to make wishes when I catch the clock at 11:11, it happens pretty often. I honestly take a minute to think about what I want for the next year whenever I blow out my birthday candles. I like to believe that ridiculous coincidences are clear-cut signs and then I run with them—blindly. I’ve had a few good ones in my lifetime. I save fortune cookie fortunes that are exceptionally good, the last one said: “A chance meeting with a stranger will possibly change your life.” 

I force myself to go out even when I have no desire to leave the house. Part of me thinks that maybe I’ll run into the mother fucker who’s supposed to be the next love of my life. I don’t want to miss out on that story—obviously. However I doubt that scenario less and less, I don’t have the energy or patience to go out these days. But total recluses can’t find love being antisocial, can they? Thus the weekly battle I currently endure.

I fully believe I don’t have that much control over my life. Sure, I make decisions and I try to make the best choices, but ultimately—this shit is not up to me. 

I fantasize that my life is this amazing jumbled up rom-com. HEAVY on the com, light on the rom. Judd Apatow would write it, Wes Anderson would direct it. I have no idea what is happening in the story right now. We’re probably just filming random b-roll of me silently trying to keep my shit together while crying in a bathroom stall at work.

See that sounds sad, but it’s not. Despite the various bullshit I’ve had to endure through the years I know my life is actually this light-hearted story with random adventures. The script is already written, I’m just rolling with the punches on a day-to-day basis.

I guess it’s the romantic side in me that finds comfort in knowing the story is already set, because whatever happens is what is supposed to. Low-key corny… but I need low-key corny right now.

33 Before 33: 12

12. Give Thanks

I haven’t been in the best mood. I can’t string together a full post that I find satisfactory.

We’re supposed to be thankful today. I am. Here’s a random list of shit I am thankful for:

• My teeth are straight
• I love my job / coworkers
• My apartment is clean
• I have a great vagina
• My family is awesome and healthy
• I’m funny (at least I think so)
• I have squads on squads on squads
• I lost 2 lbs
• I’m lactose tolerant
• I never have to get a hotel room when I go to NY
• I have no food allergies
• The Cubs won a World Series in my lifetime
• I have loved
• I am loved
• I have visited 17 countries
• I have a great vagina (oh, I already said that)
• I have zero commute
• For some reason you people still read this

Something more substantial to come. I have to finish 11 of these before 2016 ends.

WISH ME LUCK!