When we manipulate.

When you start to identify yourself as someone less than who you are is when you need to walk away.

Are you writing about me?

There she was, sitting in La Colombe. Typing away on her marble-skinned MacBook wearing thick, square glasses. Ray Bans, perhaps. Thick, dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail with a wool gray scarf draped around her neck sipping on what seems to be a cappuccino. Or maybe a latte. Cafe au lait? I'm not sure. Every few seconds she looks up from her … Continue reading Are you writing about me?

“Dear, Beth. I am a fuckboy.”

I got a rather hilarious email from a reader last night. It was a strange combination unexpected and revolting yet charming to some degree? With his permission, he let me talk about it on here. Here's the email: Hey Beth, I've been following your blog for quite a while. My initial to the first post was, … Continue reading “Dear, Beth. I am a fuckboy.”

Two sources of evil: fuckboys and alcohol.

"Happy New Year, Beth :)" the text(s) read. Does that happen to anyone else? As soon as Christmas or NYE hits, your inbox suddenly becomes flooded with messages from men you haven't spoken to in months? It's like, ah, I know I fucked up, but it's the holidays! Happy Holidays! Let's forget about everything I've ever … Continue reading Two sources of evil: fuckboys and alcohol.

To you, I’m just a “sort of”

He usually texts at around 2am. Sometimes I'll receive a sober phone call in the afternoon to "say hi," and other times it's a 4am, "Hey, what's up?" text. Never consistent, never expected, never sought after. I don't wait by the phone for a message to pop up. His name seems to be slightly larger than … Continue reading To you, I’m just a “sort of”

I went on a date with a 30-something and the world didn’t explode.

The last time I went on a date with an age gap, I was a sophomore in college. Blissfully unaware of decent vodkas, 401ks, and the tackiness of my fake Long Champ. He was 27, I was 20. At the time this age gap seemed astronomical. Like, 7 years?! Omg he was legally able to drink when … Continue reading I went on a date with a 30-something and the world didn’t explode.

 Just go the f*ck home.

  "I'll just have one more," he promised. "I swear this is the last one." I laughed, knowing very well that this was definitely not the case. I pulled the Yuengling handle down and tipped the pint glass underneath. "So, how many more beers is she worth?" I asked as I placed the beer in … Continue reading  Just go the f*ck home.

You are not a fool

spotify:track:0bZ52QzCCKfrfOqs7za6lI I'll never forget the first night we met. A salmon summer dress, cheap strappy sandals. He, plaid shorts and and collared Ralph Lauren polo. Clear vodka in a clear Poland Springs bottle. Sticky fraternity floors and strobe lights against the graffiti-filled basement wall. An early September night, sweat dripping down my neck. A promise … Continue reading You are not a fool

I don’t hate Valentine’s Day

I woke up yesterday morning, my head was pounding. I could feel the mascara stuck to my eyelashes from the night before. I rolled out of bed, hopped in the shower. Pulled a black tank over my head and managed to put on my skinny jeans without feeling like I needed to vomit. Sunday regrets from … Continue reading I don’t hate Valentine’s Day

I’ve already labeled you as a disappointment.

Since I have moved to a new city, my blog has taken a bit of a backseat; a fault that I can only place on myself. I wondered why my hands were incapable of writing something up; inspiration isn't hard to find as a writer. I tried to blame it on my lack of time, … Continue reading I’ve already labeled you as a disappointment.