Whatever they say, believe them.

Men are a big part of my life.

Let me rephrase.

Talking about men is a big part of my life.

I’m continuously baffled by them.

Don’t give them what they want? They walk away.

Give them what they want?

They just might walk away anyway.

As I was sitting in the car with my friend D a few days ago, we got to talking about red flags. Warning signs. Things that we should have realized from the get-go were indicators of bad news. Then we started discussing what we’d do differently next time around. We’re both currently single and are fascinated with the whole process of dating. Thoroughly as annoyed as we are fascinated, I should say.

“I will never ever again tell a guy I’m dating that I’m not a big phone-talker.” I said.

“Oh my God I know! Bad move. Then it’s just texts from then on.” D agreed.

“I will never utter the words ‘What am I gonna do with you?’ to a guy I’m dating again.” I vowed.

“Whaaaaat? You say that?!”

“Yeah, just…in a joking manner.” I explained.

“And what do they say?”

“Basically they’ve all said something along the lines of ‘Shoot me.’ I can’t help it! For some reason it always comes out of my mouth! I have verbal diarrhea!” I shook my head in disgust with myself.

D laughed as things began popping into my head one-by-one like a god damn army.

“I think this might be the most important of all,” I began. “I will always believe a guy when he tells me he’s either an ‘asshole’ or a ‘jerk.'”

“Oh my God!” D shrieked. “My last boyfriend said that too.”

Suddenly it dawned on me. Like a lightbulb. Like God shining down from heaven saying “Amanda, take this as a sign from me!”

When a man, or boy, as I like to refer to them currently, calls himself an asshole, jerk, scum, or some other self-deprecating term…you should probably believe them. The guy I’d been seeing this summer basically introduced himself as a jerk…and then went on to prove it.

The first love of my life called himself an asshole on numerous occasions.

These are warning signs ladies!! We need to stop laughing them off. Stop giggling and twirling your hair and saying “Nooooo you’re notttt!” Because, chances are they are. They really are.

And, those boys with their sweet, caring souls? They are just trying to warn us.


Well, hello there.

I’m Amanda.

I’m 25.

I’m a graduate student.

I’m anxious.

I’m a hypochondriac.

I’m silly.

I’m an idiot.

And this is where my blog begins.

I’m not really sure where it’s going to go. I’m not sure what I’ll talk about exactly. The ridiculousness that is my life, I assume. There’s always something crazy I’m getting myself into…or out of. I think that a lot of my weirdness comes from being an only child. I used to not think it was a big deal. But I’m figuring out more and more that not having siblings has made me hardwired a little differently. I trust people way too easily and don’t have as strong a sense of self as many of my sibling-infested peers.

What I do have, however, is a fairly good fashion sense, a love of folky soul music, a love/hate relationship with New Jersey, and some wonderful people in my little world that make life easier to live without going insane.

So, welcome to my blog. Enjoy my life. Even if I don’t really enjoy it all of the time.