The transition from single to Facebook official has not been a smooth one, for me atleast. Besides his blackout antics of forgetting language and tendency to proclaim “No I will not have anal with you” when we pass groups of strangers during an otherwise silent walk from his house to my own, that kid sure knows what he is doing to make a girl feel special. I mean what girl wouldn’t love a guy who calls her 48 times while she is at the bar with her friends? Ugh it’s just like Twilight. 

We have varying definitions of sexy underwear. When I say we I don’t mean me and him, I mean me and society. (Where I guess he falls, regardless of bizarre sound effects he makes for everything. Yes, everything.) I see nothing wrong with my “that’s what he said” boy shorts or my purple “where’s the party?” bikini briefs. If anything it’s a test like how amusement park’s have “must me this tall to ride” I have a “must be able to read this to ride” rule. Safety first. 

Another note on under dressings. I put a shit ton of time into matching, only for it to be peeled off and lost under a floor of dirty grey shirts he has had since 8th grade that I am fairly certain all used to be black. They have these creepy little holes in the shoulders like a pack of hungry hamsters went loose in his closet. I even matched the metallic silver text on the purple pair to my silver duct taped boobs (because it was this dress with a mesh strip down the middle). Note to twenty something men, throw out anything Hollister. Don’t even donate it. Please, for the love of my lady wood please. 

I also find myself getting super passive agressive over BS I know is BS, then buying Kate Spade bags with what remaining graduation money I have left as a coping mechanism. Anytime he even talks to another girl my inner crazy screams “SLUTSICLE” quickly followed by a whispered “am I cuter than her?” Girls know what I am talking about, that insecurity that only comes out in a good drunk cry over dollar slices of pizza. Like oh, you didn’t tell me you were going to the bar for a boys night? Well I am going to make the Sim I made of you fat. And just like that I win the crazy contest he doesn’t even know he was competing in. 

When a guy drops the L bomb a girl hears “RELEASE THE CRAZY”. Just last week my boyfriend told me he likes that I am a little crazy. So like a good girlfriend I saw awe babe you’re the best! while in my head I am peeing my pants laughing because he doesn’t even know crazy yet. Time to start pop quzzing him on all my favorite things, which, of course, change on an almost daily basis. 

On a uncharacteristically positive note, I get a lot of free pizza and chinese food out of it. He also has HBO, so that’s cool. 

1. I wear the pants. Bitch.
2.  I don’t have to pregame hanging out with myself.
3. I like my haircut. Yes I am getting purple streaks.
4. I can confidently wake up in my retainers, face mask, and PJs with cats dancing on them in people clothing without having to get out of bed around 6 am before you wake up to brush my teeth, re-apply my natural looking makeup, and put my push-up bra back on.
5. I get my whole big single size bed to myself. Selfish! Yeah! Snuggling with a bag of French Onion Sun Chips and by French Onion Sun Chips I mean a box of wine.
6. I have a chance with Prince Harry now! Gingers unite.
7. I can sleep wherever I want, not that there are many options. But that’s my choice! Right? Right!
8. The only judgey eyes I get from eating half a large Papa John’s pizza and requesting extra garlic butter are my own, in the mirror. Aka none.
9. I don’t have to pretend to like someone’s family!
10.  I make my own sandwiches, for myself. Only peanut butter because my taste buds were halted at 14 from all the caffeine. 
11. I don’t have to pretend to be cold or afraid of the dark to get someone to touch me. I just call my cat over. Yes she responds to her name. 
12. I can watch Real Housewives marathons without you just “checking the score” during commercials that results in us watching some vintage basketball game because “something big is about to happen.” THE GAME WAS YEARS AGO YOU ALREADY KNOW HOW IT ENDS.
13. Why yes, I do plan on eating all of this and ordering dessert, thank you. No stupid forks reaching across the table to worry about anymore. 
14. I don’t have to return lame birthday presents or the clothes you bought me in a size XL or XS that I have to pretend fit.
15. The only anniversary I have to remember is the epic day of my own birth.
16. I burp where I want, when I want.
17. No pregnancy scares that lead to makingmebabies.com of your faces. Save a ton on Plan B you don’t have to buy. Booze $$$.
18. I will leave the seat up and sleep with my stuffed animals.
19. No one to tell me to get off the stage / bar / pole.
20. No jobs! Think the hand and blow variety… I do enjoy unemployment.
21. No awkward fight with myself over who pays for dinner.
22. I don’t have to mask my intelligence so you can temporarily feel good about yourself. Since I am clearly really, really smart.
23. Now I can eat BOTH entrees in Applebee’s two for $20 meal deal. More for me. Whose gonna call me a fatass? Nobody.
24. I can cry at the part where Mufasa gets trampled in the Lion King without someone calling me a little bitch. Then again if you’re dating someone who calls you a little bitch you have more problems to worry about than you know…
25. The only red flags I see are hanging off the back of my go-kart that I purchased with all the money I didn’t spend on driving to hang out with you in your basement doing nothing for hours!