Something Cool that Someone Told Me

You know when someone gives you a cool idea and you like it so much that you want to share it with other people? That’s what this is.

Clearly, you all know that I write a lot, I write to express my emotions and I write to tell stories and a friend gave me this idea, which I believe she got from someone else, but exactly like I said, it’s a great idea to share. So the idea is that when you start a relationship with someone, from the very first meeting write down how they make you feel. Keep it up. It’s like a thought journal, but solely dedicated to one person.

You can write down when they piss you off or when they make you so happy that you could explode. You can read through it if you forget something or need to be reminded of a special way that they make you feel.

It’s just an idea for any of you out there in the beginning stages of a relationship or maybe for some of you that just want to be able to reflect on the relationship that you currently have.

Then, when you finish the journal or the relationship, you have it as a keepsake to remind you of the things that went right and the things that went wrong, or the things that you want to improve in your next relationship.

I just thought that was a really cool idea. And, I know that I write a lot on my blog about men and the things that are going on in my life and I love sharing stories with the fanz that make me happy or laugh or scream, but having a private journal to really open up, you know about the things you don’t want your grandma reading, well that could be extremely cathartic. But mostly, I was just sharing this thought if some of you were looking for a way to express emotions but wanted to keep it personal at the same time.


An Open Letter to the Guy I’ll Always Fantasize About~

Thank you.

I’m not starting with “hi!”, I’m starting with thank you, because have you seen yourself in the mirror? Wow. Really, wow. You are a treat.

I don’t really know anything about you, whatsoever, other than when I see you, it gets a whole lot of emotions stirring, mostly lustful ones because again, wow. I always hope that you’re smart. You look like you should be smart, but you also look like you might use that smartness in a d*uchey way, which, let’s be real, is also hot.

I don’t fantasize that you’re very nice because, if I ever do grow a pair and approach you and you are as kind as you are beautiful, man I’m going to launch myself at you, climb you like a tree, as it were. Homie, you’re going down like a sack of potatoes. Good luck.

Keep wearing that peacoat around town, looking mighty fine. It does not go unappreciated.

Sincerely Yours (In My Dreams),


An Open Letter to an Ex-Whatever~

Hi! I’m sorry I went AWOL last week, I had the flu and couldn’t determine up from down, let alone write anything worth while. So, we interrupt our normal Ask Maz Monday programming to give you what was promised last week, which were “love” letters; so without furtherer ado, Love Letter #1:

Dear Ex-Whatever,

I have to admit that I was a little surprised when I got your text. I was a little surprised that one) I was hearing from you and two) you weren’t being a total d*uchebag. Actually, change that little surprise to shocked. I was shocked.

I was a little excited, because let’s face it, you’re hot. But then I remembered how you treated me. And before I replied with, “hey! I’m good, how have you been? We should catch up some time!” I stepped away, took a picture of the trashcan in my kitchen and sent it with the caption: “this reminded me of you.”

Just because you have a pretty face, doesn’t mean you can treat a person the way that you did and then expect to come back whenever you’re bored or between flings. It doesn’t work like that. I’m too busy for the games you play and I respect myself far too much than to allow myself to be the second choice. So next time you think about texting me, unless it’s an apology and a 15 step plan of how you’ve changed and intend to be better, you can politely f*ck off.

Have a great V-Day, hope you get VD,


I’m Just Winging it Too

Recently, I started seeing a new guy. And it’s been going well, so naturally, I tell my friends about it. And naturally they want to see pictures, so I stalk his Instagram for some screenshots and I have to say, hands down the most attractive guy I’ve ever been with; not that I didn’t know that prior to Instagram stalking. But he’s a model type and all that. So when I show them his pictures, my friends, after picking their jaws up off the floor, want to know how I’ve managed this one.

Guys I have literally no clue.

I’m honestly pretty confused by the situation. All I can say is that the most important thing that I’ve done is been 100% myself. I have gone on dates with people in the past where I’ve pretended to be interested in things that they’re interested in or I’ve acted a little less intelligent and sassy than I actually am. This time, none of that bullsh*t. I don’t dumb myself down. I don’t pretend to like football. I don’t say that I need help with things because “I just don’t know how” to do them. I don’t pretend that I can handle watching scary movies and then sit up for six nights in a row because I can’t sleep. I don’t make myself look more or less available than I actually am.

And I will say this. A woman who is unapologetically herself is the most beautiful creature in the universe.

When I pulled away that veil of pretenses and the things I thought I should be to get a man’s attention or keep his interest, I realized that all I have to do is show him me. Show him that I’m confident, and funny, and intelligent, and have substance. I’m not single dimensional and I’m not a damsel in distress. I know what I want and I know what I don’t want. I am capable of getting any man I so desire because I don’t buy into the other bullish*t. At some point, I hope all of you can figure that out. Be you and be proud. The rest falls in line. Unless you’re a total b*tch. Then, be nicer.


The Mr. Something Chronicles: Part Two

Dear Mr. Something,

Hi. Me Again.

I’d just like to reiterate a few things.

You are damn charming and I find that I have a very hard time saying no to you. Yet at the same time, I know that I probably should.

I know exactly how much trouble you are.

You are not the boyfriend type. I got that without asking. And trust me, I can say with near certainty that I am not the girlfriend type either, so don’t worry. That’s not where this is going. But there’s just something about you, kid.

You don’t give me butterflies. You give me heartburn.

Hearing from you and being with you is like an intense adrenaline rush, since it only happens every so often. It puts my senses into hyperdrive. How I see it, it’s like the build up of an insane beat drop. The anticipation is there. You’re waiting for it. You’re anxious for it. You want it to happen. Then it happens and you’re still surprised at how crazy it is.

Whether your drunk *ss calls me to discuss a need for litigation over a contract that doesn’t exist, or we’re having a pick-up line war and arguing over who’s funnier, or playing two truths and a lie and realizing how poor you are at following the rules, you just seem to be one of those people that fell right into place as a good friend, who I consequently also enjoy kissing. So, excellent work Jeeves.

I look forward to not hearing from you for a stupid amount of time and then still agreeing to go out with you when you finally do call, because let’s face it, you’re fun as hell.

See you in 3-12 weeks. Maybe.

XO, M.

The “Not So Secret Anymore” Secret

I am taking this blog and time to discuss something that has been really bothering me.

So, I was talking to one of my friends the other day, about love and life and dating and all the normal stuff that friends talk about. I told him about the casual dating scene in London and some of the differences from home. I mentioned that I had just started seeing a new guy, and it was going alright, we’ve been on a few dates, nothing serious, just fun.

He asked me if I had sex with the guy. And I responded with a, “no, and I probably won’t.”

My friend of course asked “why?” And I pointblank told him that I’m a virgin.

He was shocked.

And it bothers me that in today’s society, that’s a pretty normal reaction to get when you’re over the age of about 16.

Since when is it not okay to be a virgin?

And it’s not just him that has had this reaction.

I have told a good number of people over the past few weeks if it would come up in conversation (which, sex, really does come up a lot casually), and I saw a change in how I would respond and how people would react to my response.

At first, it felt so weird to tell someone. I felt like I was doing something wrong or that I was a defect. I was the odd man out because everyone else is doing it and I am not.

I was actually kind of embarrassed by it.

It felt like a dirty secret that needed to be whispered.

But, then I realized something.

Who the f*ck cares?

I’m not judging them because they have had sex. I don’t think that they’re sluts or wasted something precious, and actually I think it’s really fun to hear and exchange stories about amazing or weird or bad or crazy sexual encounters. So, why should they judge me for opposite reasons? Just because I’m a virgin, doesn’t make me a prude. It doesn’t mean that I don’t also have amazing and weird and bad and crazy stories to tell, they just don’t end in exactly the same way.

I’m still a human, I still have hormones and desires. It’s just the difference in how I act on them is all. There’s different ways to get your kicks besides a full homerun.

Why shouldn’t I be proud of it?

I am in a situation where I don’t worry about being pregnant. Ever. I’ve gone and bought the morning after pill for a few of my friends, and constantly thank the heavens that it’s not something that I’ve ever had to do for myself.

I’m not stupid enough to think that STDs can’t be transmitted in other ways besides full on sex, so that’s always still a concern, but it’s all about being smart, taking necessary precautions and asking the right questions.

I have my own personal convictions for being a virgin. I think that when the perfect time and perfect person come along, I will be 100% ready for it. Until then, I’m perfectly content with who I am and how I decide to live my hormonal 20 year old life.

I think it’s time that we stop making it such a taboo. Don’t shockingly exclaim at me “NO WAY!” or “You don’t act like a virgin!” (side note, what the hell does that even mean? How are virgins supposed to act?) when I tell you that I am one; and similarly, I won’t scream in your face “YOU’RE SO MAINSTREAM!” or “I bet you’re a slut!” when you say that you aren’t one.

Live and let live, as it were.