Bethany Chase is a Brooklyn-based interior designer and writer. She blogs about love, writing, and life as an A-cup at https://itsbetterwithbangs.blogspot.com. Goose her on Twitter @mbethanychase… she might goose you back.
I was a sophomore in college when my heart started skipping beats. Not metaphorical beats—real ones. It felt like a hiccup, followed by a suspended pause that went on *just* an instant too long, just long enough for adrenaline go swooping through me, and then the next beat would come, and I’d breathe again. But sometimes, the beats would come back wrong. Instead of a nice, normal pace, my heart would be thudding away like I’d been sprinting up a hillside—all while I was sitting motionless in a chair. I would pinch my wrist with my other hand, feeling the thrum of my veins under my fingertips, and count: 120 beats per minute. 130. For no reason. For minutes, sometimes hours, at a time.
The college health center had no idea what was wrong with me. The first time the weird heartbeat stuck for few hours, I spent the night down there under observation; they could see that my heart was working in an abnormal rhythm but they had no idea why, or how to fix me. That time, it went away on its own, as spontaneously as it had started.
We all know one: that girl who’s got a list, either squirreled away in a paisley-covered journal she keeps in her underwear drawer, or perhaps simply engraved on a few dedicated kilobytes in her brain, of the qualities she’s looking for in her future husband. Maybe you are that girl. And if you are, well, you’re probably going to get mad at me when I tell you your list is bullshit. And you’re entitled to—but first, hear me out.
The first reason it’s bullshit: 90% of what’s on the list should go without saying. It’s basic good-human-being stuff, like humor and brains and kindness and integrity, or it’s good-partner stuff, like having a steady head on his shoulders and a direction in his life and an overall effect of making you want to bone him. And you don’t need to itemize those things because you should never so much as pursue a relationship with a man who’s without them, let alone marry him. The last thing you should need to do is consult a cheat sheet to remind yourself.
The second reason it’s bullshit: the other stuff on your list is filler. Yes. It is. It’s things you think you want, things you think you need, but the truth is that if you’ve found a man who has that first 90% solidly covered, then the rest is variable, unnecessary and at best barely relevant. Relationships are imperfect because people are—you know damn well that you are—so why are you entitled to demand perfection of him?
Yesterday, the two accused boys in Steubenville, OH were convicted of rape. Prevalent throughout the comments to the CNN article about it, is the sentiment that the young girl ought to be held accountable for what happened to her, because she was the one who got drunk in the first place. A few people want to see her charged for under-age drinking, just, you know, in the interest of fairness. One comment actually suggested she should be charged as an accomplice in her own rape, because she was drunk.
Now. I understand that comments sections on news articles tend to host the worst of the bottom-dwellers across every form of ignorance and depravity, but still, the frequency with which variations on this argument are repeated is sickening. People insist that the girl is partially responsible for what happened to her. One commenter compared her actions–getting too drunk at a party–to leaving valuables in an alleyway overnight and then being surprised when they were stolen. Another compared it to leaving a laptop in an unlocked car.
Everybody say it with me now, nice and loud: FUCK THAT. And also, NO. No, no, no, never, and again, NO.
Marriage. We may not all want it, but let’s be honest… most of us do, right? Whether it’s just a simple courthouse ceremony or the whole Puffy White Dress package, I think it’s a pretty safe claim that for most women, once they have found a partner they want to share their lives with, making it legal and/or sealing it in the eyes of God becomes a step they find themselves wanting to take. It may not have ever even been a conscious wish or goal; you might have totally been one of those eye-rolling “I’m never getting married” people, and you might have meant it—right up until a few months, or a few years (or a few hours), after you met the person who somehow managed to change your mind. But for most of us, once we find that person, and we feel that love that just swallows us whole, and we entangle our lives so completely with somebody else’s—we find ourselves wanting to make it Official.
Some people, I have heard, have recurring dreams. My own subconscious is nowhere near as consistent as that, but what it does do is periodically offer up a new variation on some previously-explored, and generally terrible, recurring theme. The theme that’s resurfaced every couple of years throughout my adult life: Terrible Ruinous Decision with Appalling Consequences.
When I was younger, it was a little more abstract. I had a couple dreams that I had taken up smoking, and was addicted to cigarettes. Then there were one or two pregnancy dreams, from which I awakened in full heart-crushing panic until I remembered that my uterus was most definitely empty.
“Haven’t pulled an all-nighter in years,” said my Facebook post. “My body reacted extremely poorly. Apparently I am not 21 anymore.”
“Sadly, none of us are,” my friend commiserated. “Boooo!” Boooo, indeed.
Every year, my husband and I spend the week between Christmas and New Year’s at his parents’ condo in Fort Lauderdale; and every year, the beach near the condo is overrun with college swim/dive teams who are in town for training camps at the same time. Every year, I ogle the trim, toned young whippersnappers—both guys and girls, although, okay, yes, definitely more the guys—and I listen to snatches of their conversations about classes and finals and parties and I get sooooooo nostalgic for college. I remember that feeling of just infinite possibility, where everything good was still to come, and the mystery of it wasn’t threatening at all because it never entered my mind that whatever was coming might potentially be kind of disappointing. All I had to do was go to class, do my schoolwork, and hang out with my best friends every single freaking night of the week.
datingandhookup.com is a website that explores modern romance in the Millennial era – which, let’s be honest, looks nothing like we were taught to expect. We feature essays, advice and social commentary with humor, compassion and brains, and we vow never, ever to publish a piece called “The 10 Best Ways to Satisfy Your Man in Bed”. Do click to submit your work to us. We love you.
He explained that he worked all the time and produced a decent living, but for what? He was bored with his following-operate activities, lacked the social circle he preferred, and wasn’t meeting sufficient ladies. jewel megan onlyfans OnlyFans also delivers areferral programin which those who refer a creator to the platform can earn five% of the referred creator’s earnings for the 1st 12 months up to the very first $1 million earned by the referred creator. The eBAC data had been skewed so all models employed a poisson distribution to account for a non-standard distribution and employed occasion-rate ratios , which are used as a standardized effect size. hookup urban dictionary definition At Be Naughty, we have an substantial range of profiles for you to look via and numerous categories that contain absolutely everyone.
Follow Dating & Hookup on Instagram
Follow Jess on Instagram
Follow Becky on Instagram
Follow me on Twitter