it’s the holiday season…

Boop de doo. Is that how the song goes? I’m so awful at lyrics.

Well, it’s that time of year again, friends. According to my facebook feed, it’s the season for santa visits, baking cookies, and making actual baby jesuses. For me, it’s a little different: santa bar crawls, eggnog candy cane moonshine shots, and all of the ugly sweaters I can throw on myself. Holidays as a single does not have to scream forever alone. Instead, watch home alone, and feel better about your life choices.

One thing I have noticed this holiday is that dudes from Christmas past have been coming out of the woodwork. We used to hook up in college, haven’t talked in years, oh now would be a great time to rekindle that dead flame? I get it, no one wants to be alone on christmas. However, that does not mean finding a random person, randomly talking to a person you no longer speak to, or being random and targeting the only other single person in your group of friends. Has this been happening to anyone else?

Standard table talk is another obstacle during this time. I should find my old talkboy and have the following on repeat: “Yes, I still live at home. Work is fine. No, I’m not seeing anyone. Yes, I do plan on moving out sometime soon. No, please don’t set me up. No, thank you. I mean, no.” It’s pretty much the same routine from Thanksgiving, which was a month ago.

Finally, you’ve got the dreaded holiday work parties to sit through. Now, I usually don’t mind them because I’m a big fan of dip. But, they’re still totally awkward. Again with the small talk. Again with explaining whatever current situation you got going on. And that fake laughter to see yourself out of a dull conversation. Just allow me to pull up a chair next to the appetizer table and let me be. I’ll eventually roll on out of here at some point.

Just think, a few days after this fiasco we have to plan for new years eve. Swell.


the parent judgment.


If you’re not familiar with my blog or my current living situation, my parents have graciously allowed me to move back in with them while I search for a home. While I appreciate this, I’m slowly starting to lose my mind. I hit the one year mark last month and I’m itching to have my own space again. The home cooked meals and fresh laundry have been great, but I am never alone. And I love being alone. I feel you, Kevin McCallister.

One thing that has also gone to crap is my social life. It’s tough when you have a mom who asks 35 questions as you try to get out the door; ‘where are you doing, who is going to be there, what time will you be home‘.  This is usually when I revert back to my teenage self and scream as I exit. I’m not proud of this.

However, what I wasn’t prepared for was the parent judgment on my lack of doing anything on the weekends. Just last night, my dad asked if I talked to anyone other than them. Ugh. My mom also questioned my super good cyber monday deal on a ps4 for $299 (right!?). ‘Do other 30 year olds play games‘ she asked all judgy toned. Ughh. Where’s the bell of shame?

Listen up roomies, I’ve hit a low point in my life by moving back in with you two, I don’t need you pointing that out on the frequent. Even my dad last year at Christmas after many drinks told me how sad it was I was there. Point taken.

Now excuse me as I storm off to my room to play video games. What year am I living in??

the move back home.


It’s not really a point of pride to say that you’re moving back in with your parents. That statement is usually followed by the visual of a prematurely bald man eating cheetos on a couch in the basement while yelling MAAAA as cheese dust falls upon his beer soaked shirt. Ok, that may be a tad much. But, that’s the image I see when I think about the move back home.

Fortunately, I’m neither of those things…except a cheeto lover, but if you’ve read this blog for a while now you’d already know that. But, moving back home takes me back to my childhood/teenhood and that’s a place I never want to go again. Luckily, I took down the wall of *NSYNC memorabilia, concert glowsticks included, a few years ago. Hey, I thought they’d make a comeback. My old room now has the mature look of someone who has lived on her own for eleven years and would rather this be a guest room.

We always assure people that this move will be ‘temporary’. ‘I’m just trying to save up some money‘, we say. ‘I’m biding my time while I look for a new place‘, they say. And that’s fine, as long as it’s not ten years down the road and you’re still trying to use that excuse. We should consider ourselves lucky that our parents would be willing to let us back in. I watched Empty Nest as a small child, I know some things.

I should probably set some ground rules, though, just in case.

the awkward family wedding.


Once you hit the age when everyone decides to get married, you will find your weekends booked and your bank account dwindling. Friends weddings are usually fun and sometimes a bit of a mess. Family weddings, though, are an entirely different breed.

The awkward family wedding may be a rite of passage for every twenty-something. A time to cringe, suck it up, and concede to the inquisitive aunts and uncles… ‘what are you doing with your life? where are your kids? will you come visit?’  There also tends to be the creep factor. I’m talking about those people who aren’t related to you, i.e. family friends who you’ve known for years, who now see the ‘adult’ you. They may comment on how grown you are, how beautiful you’ve become, or how you could possibly still be single. Apparently, they also make inappropriate comments like how ‘hot’ you are or simply just longingly stare at you (true story from this month’s wedding).

Thankfully, the bride and groom are having the time of their lives while we fend for ourselves in the battleground of assigned seating. Instead of enjoying the open bar and dance-offs, we’re discussing tactics of either hiding or banding together against said family members/creepsters.

Suit up, it’s going to be a long wedding season.

the big kids table.


The holiday season is upon us. And with that comes the insufferable task of explaining your singleness/work-life/future with your relatives. Yes, you may have moved on to the big kids table, but you still have to sit through awkward conversations, even about yourself while you sit within earshot.

I can never eat my favorite holiday meal in peace because there’s a revolving door of aunts and uncles asking why I haven’t brought a boyfriend to dinner yet, or why I haven’t moved back home yet. When am I going to get a different job, or start a family? Hmm, why does my life have to be the topic of conversation?

But, that’s the holidays, isn’t it. A time where family comes together for meaningless chatter and boasting about who did what better. I’m sure the year I come, boyfriend in tow, will be the year that all the minds are blown. And, I can finish my cranberries in pure, delicious, silence.

Until then, I’ll just be thankful that I’ll have 27 days before I have to do it all over again.