The girls...

Christina: 22-year-old living in Small-ish Town, West Coast. Lives with and loves BF. Has too many exes, some with interesting stories, some... not so much. Is still trying to figure out what to do now that her bff, Courtney, is two states away... again.
Courtney: 22-year-old living in Smaller Town, West Coast. Living alone, single and loving it. Has lots of scandalous stories to share. Missing her bff, but is excited about this new journey! Looking for Mr. Right, but will settle for Mr. Right now...

Behind the name...

Sex and the City + the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants + The Sweetest Thing...
Part young girl, part grown woman... a little bit of fashion, a little bit (well, hopefully a LOT) of sex... and probably more booze than what's healthy. We started this blog hoping to start a chronicle of our lives, now hundreds of miles apart, as best friends... with the help of a fabulous handbag, of course!

Showing posts with label finding myself. Show all posts
Showing posts with label finding myself. Show all posts

Is this too cleavage-y for an interview?

I've been interviewed by that damn expat (her adjective, not mine). Granted, it was pretty voluntary (see rules below), but I'm still excited!

First, the rules:
1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me." (Did that.)
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions - I get to the pick the questions. (That too.)
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions. (That's coming up.)
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post. (Currently happening.)
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions. (You got it.)

And now, the interview!

All I know about you is that you live in a small town and have a fun best friend. Tell me more about yourself, in five sentences or less.

I'm the youngest of three - my brother and sister (both technically my half siblings - different fathers) are 6 and 8 years older than me, respectively. For the better part of all of our childhoods, my mother raised us on her own... thus we're very close and I've never considered them my half-siblings. My dad died in a car wreck when I was 16 (on his way to see me for my birthday) and I'm pretty sure that trauma has a lot to do with the shenanigans of my high school and college careers. I'm the first in my family to earn a four-year degree. I love avocados, green olives, Caesar salad and dill pickle-flavored Spitz (sunflower seeds).

If you were a Sex and the City character, which character would you be?

Even though I most closely resemble Charlotte physically, I'm fairly certain (along with about 97% of the rest of the female population) Carrie is, like, my kindred spirit. I fancy myself a writer (in fact, my bachelor's is in a writing-related field and I work at a writing-type place), am neurotic and my hair, when I don't straighten it, tends to be a bit wild and out-of-control. Though I have to say, I do have a bit of Miranda's cynicism as well.

If you were a Sweetest Thing character, which character would you be?

Christina. (In case we didn't make it clear, Courtney and Christina aren't our real names. They're completely based on the movie The Sweetest Thing.) Even though I'm nowhere near as tall or skinny or blonde as Cameron Diaz in that movie, I'm most like Christina. Though... now that I think about it, if I were that tall, I would be that skinny. Just stretch me out and tada! If for no other reason, I'd say I "am" Christina because when she gets upset about something, she feels the need to go out dancing. There are a million other thing we have in common, but my brain hurts from a long day at work.

What is your one favorite thing about your boyfriend?

The hardest question! There are countless things I absolutely adore about him, including the way I've never been left wanting more in the sex department (seriously, he's always willing to do anything I want!) and the way he gets along so well with my family, friends and co-workers. But maybe the best thing about him is how he puts up with all my shit. I'm right about just about everything, obviously (hint hint wink wink), but on the rare occasion I get all Carrie-neurotic and Miranda-cynical and all-around menopausal-girl-crazy - have I mentioned I tend to have mood swings and have a serious (serious.) anger problem? - he always puts up with it. Sure, he throws out the occasional "fuck this," but he always ends up calming me down and telling me how much, despite it all, he loves me. Oh, and he wants to marry me. Maybe that's my favorite thing.

Tell me one thing you love and one thing you hate about yourself.

Psh. What's not to love? Aside from my amazing sense of humor (and fashion) and killer good looks, I think I'm most proud of where I am in life. I'm a college grad with a good job that I love (and is exactly what I went to school for), living with my boyfriend (in sin! I'm so going to hell) and we have a house, a yard, way too many vehicles, some very adorable pets and only minimal debt. I've got it together.

And my least favorite thing is that I fall apart. Like I mentioned a minute ago, I have some pretty severe anger problems and mood swings that surface from time to time and I hate myself when I'm like that. It's that uncontrollable shit you always read about but never really think can be true. I'm a complete bitch for absolutely no reason. It gets so bad that sometimes I wonder if I should see a doctor about it, get some meds and chill the fuck out. But by the time that all crosses my mind, it's over with. I'm sane again. I'd like to be (relatively) sane all the time.



There you have it. I'm apparently a little on the wordy side tonight (or maybe that's just in general... hey, I said I fancy myself a writer, didn't I?) so please forgive. Also I'm extremely PG tonight, too (no sex or coming or dick-licking or anything, wtf?!) so forgive me for that, too.

I'm kind of killing two birds with one stone here, but I have a quick poll for you guys. Which story from my past would you like to hear next....
A (somewhat but maybe not-so-) quick recap of my shenanigans with First Love?
The first time I slept with a black guy?*
The first time I slept with an Asian guy?**
OR my fling with Christian Gal's (a college roommate of mine) ex-boyfriend... while I lived with Christian Gal?

* Have I mentioned I'm white?
** And Hick Town is, if you couldn't tell by the name, pretty much 100% white?

XOXO
Christina

Clingers.

Christ. We've got a stage five clinger.

You know what I'm talking about. You knowww. The guy who is text messaging you at least every 30 minutes of the day... Is he worried that you've become un-interested in him because the last "what are you up to?" they sent 29 minutes ago didn't get a response? Really? Let me just say that I hope you have Verizon, Mr. Cling, because honestly, I can't afford your 839 texts a day.

Okay, so I might be over-exaggerating a tad about the "839 texts"-- but the rest is accurate.

But really, Mr. Cling. I'm trying not to lead you on. Sure, we had some good sex. Not great, but it was alright-- and by that, I mean that you could have lasted a little...lot longer. What I was thinking was just some nice goodbye sex, has brought me to realization that I might have gotten my farewell hump from the wrong fella. And to be completely honest with you, if it weren't for recently finding out about your clinginess, I would have actually been interested. But I can tell you right now, it's not looking good on your end.

I must say that I'm a tad jealous of those in relationships; always having someone there for them-- physically & emotionally... Not having to deal with the above referenced men... But I've also learned to be picky. So I'm doing just that... but we all know we've gotta test drive the car before we buy it, so I'll work on that for now-- and maybe start taking the speed limit into consideration.


exes and oh!'s,
Court

Who's That Girl?

I don't know when I became That Girl.

You know the girl I mean... the girl who loses herself in her relationship. Who, even after a year and a half of being with a guy (and six months or so of living with him), still waits up for her boy to get home from work at night (if he, hypothetically speaking, were to work the night shift). The girl who worries more about how clean the house is or if he's picked up his dirty socks and boxers off the bathroom floor than spending time with him. You know the girl.

The girl who starts her sentences with, "We like to...," or "We went...," or "We like..." We we we. The girl who is so lost in "us" she loses her "I."

Yeah.
I don't know when I became That Girl.

But I'm afraid I've been That Girl for so long now... I don't remember who I was before. The girl that went out every night she could, simply because the nickname Thirty Thursday sounded good? Gone. The girl who made out with Guy #1 one night, then slept with Guy #2 the next night? Definitely gone.

Don't get me wrong, I love BF but...

Sometimes I miss the good old days.

Sometimes I wish I were as outgoing and fun-loving as I used to be. The Purse - you know, the giraffe-print one that spawned this whole blog - is bold. Hopefully that rubs off on me.


XOXO
Christina