The Anatomy of being a singleton in college.

When it comes to valentine’s day as a single gal, the only thing you could do is hate it. Hate it with a fiery, cynical passion and refuse to back down on those beliefs because then your peers might just see your true colours and expose you for what you really are, a bitter singleton. Nobody likes valentine day if you’re single, it destroys the luxury of being single and emotionally unavailable or unattainable, we ask ourselves why are we single? Maybe it’s this pessimistic attitude we have to couples and their rituals and traditions when in reality we can’t face the concept of being alone on a commercialised holiday for one day a year when we can be single every other day of the year with no problems? Valentine’s day was born to be an international holiday of being with a significant other and not being alone at home feeling sorry for yourself eating a tub of Ben and Jerrys just to add to the cliché of being “alone and single on valentine’s day”.

When friends and family members ask routinely if you’re seeing anyone “special” when we say, no were single and totally fine with it we still get that sympathetic, “you’ll find someone look”or the “sorry you’re single look”. Is it time to bring out the big guns and the daring idea of accepting that were single and fabulous? That we embrace girl power and independence not to mention freedom from a significant other? Can being single on valentine’s day really be that bad? Or are we over analysing and creating unrealistic scenarios in our heads telling our selves were destined to be alone and single forever?


Why do we pressure ourselves and convince ourselves to be happy with being single, when people in relationships accept that they have that other person to confide and be intimate with without question or any means of convincing themselves that there in a relationship, and fabulous! Explanation point is celebrated and praised when used to finish that sentence, but when phrased single and fabulous ? a question mark is seen as the correct punctuation at the end of that sentence instead because apparently being single and fabulous is questionable and asked why is that good?



That stank from Queens

Whenever an event blooms or an excuse to dress up elegantly arises we as a species of women, jump at the opportunity, especially if it’s at a dinner function, a political party function or a charity function or ball. We relentlessly decide what to wear, how we should present ourselves and even drink something we would’t normally drink because we want to look ‘the part’. What is this ‘part’ though? Why must we break away from our comfort zone to an exposed uncomfortable zone? In the process we hope a dashing, young man with nothing but opportunity’s, money, power and availability to offer will approach us in our designer evening gowns, while we clutch our pearls and sip maturely on our chardonnay, to act as the damsel in distress we aren’t?

We will never admit it but, women often rely on men to make them feel adored, superior, and attractive. But what none of the books or TV shows tell us is that, men leer and stare instead of approaching because like us, they’re afraid of being rejected and having their ego’s bruised. instead it’s much easier for them if a woman approaches them (after a few martini’s for courage) so then they remain superior and don’t have to put their asses on the line in fear of high school rejection. Men always lust after the beautiful ones because they say they like a challenge, but secretly they despise these women because to men, their the girls in high school that rejected them a century ago. They want to capture these women and leer them in, then dispose of them to show relentlessness, ruthlessness and the ability to not carry any emotion or affection. Therefore known as a hawk, a serpent, a toxic bachelor. Why can’t women ever do that? Because we have more emotions and estrogen strung to our veins therefore we can’t dispose quite easily. Unfortunately.

Being upfront and honest is too scary for any individual it breaks the stigma of mystery and caution that we must keep to add spice. So again I ask, when can we just cut the bullshit and skip to the part we where we both get what we want?

Whenever we do have such an occasion to dress up, I can’t help but feel and look not totally and completely the way I anticipated. Whether it’s the jewelry, the tight fitted dress, the hair, makeup or shoes there’s still a hint of trash in the air. When deep down we know these are not real diamonds and pearls, this dress ins’t in fact designer, our makeup is overdone to look ‘natural’ so it makes me question, do you really have to be from the upper east side or from a respectable family and social circle to have this presence? This aroma? Because Queens is a borough mainly associated with diners, Chinese slippers, laundry mats, parks with sprinklers and salons with a twang of a harsh New York accent. That doesn’t belong in a political dinner function without noticing a hint or subtle aroma of the lingering stank coming from table 12.

What are Toxic Bachelor’s?

Men can’t approach women in Ireland as easily as they can in the states they get frightened of their opposing sex and their egos sore too close to the sun to ever let themselves be intimate or open up emotionally to someone. Hence why a lot more women here are single and by single I mean not even remotely sexually active, it truly is a battle field, heart ache to ache we stand, no promises and no demands from any man. We look around see our available options and a majority of the time are repulsed or depressed by the situation. There are the physically available guys, the emotionally unavailable guys, the ones we want but don’t want us, the ones that want us but we don’t want because their too boring, and then finally there’s the toxic bachelor’s the worst of the worst. Emotionally unavailable, toxic, heartbreakers, and see no real point in marriage or anything after it. A woman in her mid thirties is just a fuck and nothing more because if she was an option to marry, the bachelor would have to marry her and since she’s approaching forty there is no time like the present to start having children and from then on its basically the beginning of the end. However, if we take an insight to the dating world of 2018 it is catastrophic and depressing, shivery is officially dead, dating is hardly a thing anymore, even barely amongst couples themselves. And truly impossible to go out there and get to know a person actually IN person before the deed is done. All that people have time for now is sex and nothing before it. When we think about it isn’t it a waste of time anyway? I mean we probably won’t ever see this individual again nor remember their names as they certainly wouldn’t remember ours, and we each have to go through the bullshit storm of getting to know each other because it’s inappropriate to sleep with someone you just met without knowing anything about them never mind their sexually history. So I propose we cut the bullshit tell each other what the other really wants/needs to hear especially the more convenient stuff like any STD’s? Are you selfish in bed? Am I wasting my time? Do I ever have to see you again? It’s harsh but an alternative saving a lot of pain, heartache and fear of rejection. But why has rejection become the number one fear?




Three. Three friends, multiple groups of three, three in a family and three great loves. Three is seen as a magic number or as some say, three’s a crowd. Since I personally don’t believe that, I’ve always been around three’s

. So when one of my groups of three decides three is a toxic and unhealthy number I can’t understand why since it’s become immune and natural to me. When Sonny from  a Bronx tale told us we only get three great loves in our lives, I took that seriously and still believe it’s true, but what happens when its 4 or instead just the one? Three seems like a great number of people to have such a great life changing love with. Three seems so intimate so small of a number in a group when it comes to individual partners your seriously romantically involved with it’s huge. Three marriages? Three divorces? Or one great real love and one marriage with no divorces? I couldn’t help but wonder would that be me or will three be a number I’m forever stuck with? Or maybe my three great loves in life is a group of three friends, one great love and a family of three?