Single white female, living in a time where Jennifer Aniston is the new Jackie O, the economy sucks, we are the children of the baby boomers, and divorce, we were told “If you don’t go to college, you will be nothing”, ask my generation how the return on that investment is working out for them. The economy sucks and most of us don’t have a choice but to still live with our parents. With everything standing in our way society and the “American Dream” says we are to get married, have kids be the “Real Housewives” of whatever city we reside in, or on the other side of the coin, we are to focus on our careers, and live the blissfully free lives of Carrie Bradshaw and Vincent Chase . . . or so HBO makes us believe.
So where do I fall in all of this commotion, confusion, and media hype? I recycle . . . and not what you would think. I don’t recycle old newspapers, soda pop bottles, or milk cartons. I recycle . . . ex-boyfriends! It’s a horrible habit and one I can’t explain or provide a logical, reasonable, or sane explanation for why I do this. Just the simple answer that I am not good at communicating, relationships . . . in fact I spend more time giving relationship advice for both my male and female friends. A consistent rotation of diagnoses, and prescriptions for a generation of commitment phobic, stage five clingers. I guess the phrase “those who can’t do, teach” is a true statement in my case. I know that I need to look in the mirror and follow my own advice. I am not naive or blind, I am fully aware of what I am doing . . . but there are just some things I have no self control over. My sanity in relationships is one of them. I become a crazy scary version of the already type A, perfectionist that I am. So instead of introducing this crazy side of myself to new people, why not just stick with those who have already dealt with the madness! Obviously this isn’t working out for me, so I am presented the 30 day challenge . . .
A challenge brought to me by my cousin-in-law, and confirmed by a friend that I will absolutely fail without a doubt! No communication with 3 particular ex’s for 30 days. In a time where you know what the kid who gave you rocks in kindergarten had for lunch that day, you can see how this may present itself to be challenging and difficult. Despite all of the things that I am, I love a challenge and proving people wrong. The real question is, “Can I do it”?
So I will blog (hopefully daily) how I am affected by this challenge. I will go into detail about the 3 gentlemen who play such an important role in who I am, and why they consistently play a part in my life. However for everyone’s protection I will give them alias. I can’t promise that it will be interesting or intellectually stimulating, but I promise to be honest and graphic (with discretion). My best friend from college once described me as her “most dramatic” friend. I could be offended or humored by this comment; instead I wear it as a badge of honor. I live life emotionally with my heart on my sleeve, and I am proud of it, it reminds me I am alive. So if anything I promise you will be entertained.
I am not my mother or Jackie O, I am not Rachel Green, and I most definitely am not Carrie Bradshaw. I am Kristen, 28 years old, single; completely unaware of who I am other then someone’s girlfriend/ex-girlfriend, but that all changes . . .