- Live by herself for at least a year.
- Live with someone else for at least a year.
- Recover from a broken heart.
- Have a vacation fling.
- Take a road-trip with a group of girlfriends.
- Relish sleeping in a queen-sized bed by herself.
- Get her finances in order.
- Learn to love her body.
- Have sex with at least one person she’d never want to marry (or introduce to mom).
- Find reliable birth control.
- Pay off as much credit card debt and student loans as possible.
- Spend way too much on a something frivolous.
- Exorcise all past relationship demons.
- Travel somewhere exotic.
- Establish a strong circle of friends.
- Forgive her parents for not being perfect.
- Have at least one night she can’t quite remember.
- Experience some really bad first dates.
- Find hobbies that fulfill her.
- Celebrate her 25th birthday.
Given that list, it’s safe to say that the majority of the women on The Fatchelor “More to Love” are completely unfit to be Luke Conley’s BBBride.
I don’t agree that all 20 are things that are musts, but I believe it’s an interesting start. Some people commented their own additions–one girl said “You should be able to cook for one…AND for ten.” Mmmbuhhl. Another commented that you should have a driver’s license…um, what year is it?
Live by herself for at least a year.
I haven’t had my own place yet, but given the fact that I’ve been financially independent since the age of, oh, 15, has to count for something. And I haven’t lived with my parents since I was 17, so suck a duck.
**
Live with someone else for at least a year.
I’ve shared an address with fourteen people in the last five years, in combinations of having one roommate, to two, to three at a time.
And this is what happens when four people live together.
And this.
**
Recover from a broken heart.
No boy has ever broken my heart (probably because I hated them by the time the relationship expired), so no recovery really necessary…but I can cross this off the list because I’ve recovered from dating some pretty unstable, fucked-up people.
**
Have a vacation fling.
I’ve never slept with a foreigner or a dude while on a vacation, but the closest thing that counts was me making out with some random French dude while Nancy and I were in Paris. That has to count.
What the French boys wear at the clubs before 9 p.m.
Because at 9, the drink prices go up and the pants go down.
**
Take a road-trip with a group of girlfriends.
I do this every year with my girls Natalie and Sara.
**
Relish sleeping in a queen-sized bed all by herself.
Sucka! My bed is KING-SIZED, bitches. Nonna that twin or full-sized BS.
**
Get her finances in order.
HA! I don’t open my mail and I don’t answer unknown phone numbers. So sue me. Wait, don’t. It’s not that bad; I just lack discipline. Checking my balances at the Bank of America website and transferring funds from Savings to Checking when I’ve gotten a little spendhardy is pretty much as far as I go.
Besides…are finances EVER really in order? Unless you’re Jewish like my friend Mr. Silver, it’s most likely NOT. I mean, our country’s finances certainly aren’t in order, so I can’t feel bad about my less than $10,000 worth of debt.
**
Learn to love her body.
I’ve never hated my body. Looking back, though, my worst point was my first year in college at Northern Illinois University. I lived off chicken fingers and mozzarella sticks. No freshman 15…try the freshman 30. Okay, freshman 35. The thing was, I wasn’t self-conscious or feeling bad about it…I was deeply involved in a Christian youth group of college and high school students, so I wasn’t focused on my body or appearance, because “God looks at the inside.” I didn’t wear much makeup and just was who I was: a t-shirt totin’, jeans wearin’, punky girl.
Then I got academically dismissed from school, ran away from home, left the church and started working at Sam Ash Music (but not in that order). I lost the weight in my year off from school, started working at the Ash, met a girl named Allie, and then my ego exploded and my head got about 20 times bigger because I actually cared about myself.
**
Have sex with at least one person she’d never want to marry (or introduce to mom).
Well. Let’s just say that I haven’t introduced every dude to my mother, and I sure as hell wouldn’t marry nearly all the guys with whom I’ve hooked up.
**
Find reliable birth control.
Yeah, yeah. I call them No-Babies-Pills, with an addition of No Pearl Necklaces, because if that shit gets in my hair I’m kicking your balls so hard they’ll come out your throat. Black girls spend way too much time on their hair just for some white boy to come around and jizz on it, as a fellow blogger Nina once said.
**
Pay off as much credit card debt and student loans as possible.
My debt isn’t groundbreaking in comparison to most people my age; I’m just not paying it off fast enough. But that’s what happens when you decide to work freelance during the summer instead of be miserable in an office all day. Just sayin’.
**
Spend way too much on something frivolous.
Meh. Other than a laptop and a car, I haven’t had any major splurges. I spend a lot on clothes and accessories and hair stuff, yes, but not really on one big item.
**
Exorcise all past relationship demons.
What demons? Well, one Fat Demon resurfaced last week when he found out Sean and I were dating. Why? Because I was dating the Fat Demon and met Sean through him. But I don’t really care, because the Fat Demon was pretty much the worst person in the world! So, he sent some threatening texts, I put him in his place, and I’m pretty sure I won’t have to deal with that ever again.
**
Travel somewhere exotic.
Ghana, Kenya, Malawi, and Zambia. By myself. Bad ass.
**
Establish a strong circle of friends.
Especially this year, as time passes and the True Friends List gets more whittled down, I’ve learned who my greats are and wouldn’t trade ‘em for anything. I think I really only have fewer than five best friends. Maybe fewer than 10.
**
Forgive her parents for not being perfect.
I’d be lying if I said I don’t harbor little seeds of bitterness that explode when one of them rubs me the wrong way; they just make me crazy sometimes, as all parents do. I guess I forgive them because I know they did their best, and there’s the issue of culture clashes and whatnot…but I’m good at making excuses. I love my mama though.
**
Have at least one night she can’t quite remember.
I only have one, and it was after the 2009 Pride Parade. There are literally four to six hours of my life of which I have absolutely no recollection. I guess my HAIR WAS IN MY FOOD at one point, probably this point:
The only reason I remember being at this place is because of the half-eaten sandwich and empty wallet I found in my purse the next day.
Thank god we have friends to document such silliness.
**
Experience some really bad first dates.
This one time last winter, this one guy came to pick me up and hang because he was in love with me. Except he was with his friend, who was driving. And they were both drunk. And drinking beers out of a case while driving. What was supposed to be a date turned out to an incredibly ridiculous evening with two boys passed out on my couch while Jaley and I “slept” in my bed. Ahem.
**
Find hobbies that fulfill her.
Yeah, yeah. Triple-F, baby.
**
Celebrate her 25th birthday.
Almost there.
******
I have a fun life. I might not be ready to get married at this particular juncture, but whatever. One day at a time.
1 response so far ↓
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