Love, or Something Like It.

Hello there,

It feels like this week is dragging, am I the only one who feels like it should be Thursday? Overall, this week has been so blah minus the one highlight: a painless Brazilian wax.

Yes, I am now numb to the what used to feel like a harsh spanking (unless you’re into that #nojudgement) .

Besides these small little discoveries, there is not much else that seems to go on in my life.  I work, eat, blog, sleep. And repeat.  There used to be a big block in my schedule for my METH (my girlfriends), but that space no longer exists. I’ve been forced into withdrawal and like any addict, for awhile, I didn’t know what Rehab to check into?

Turns out, I didn’t get into the Betty Ford Center— I got  the 14 Hour Workdays to Sobriety Program.

So without meth, and without sex, I’ve been thinking a lot about…Love.

Let me give you some background on what L-O-V-E means to me. (and when I say love, I mean anything from strong crush–eternal love) Do you know what my favorite movie was from the 90s? #blastfromthepast

Yeah, 10 things I hate about you. If there was ever a love story I would love to live, that would be the one– not cause its Shakespeare, and not cause its Heath Ledger, but because Cynical-Feminist meets Dangerous BadA$$ and then writes him a poem about how much she hates everything about him (which is code for I love you). Watch the scene below:

If Love was a man, that is the poem I’d read for him, before storming out.

Because somewhere between hitting puberty and having sex, there seemed to have been a phase you were supposed to go through– where you “believed in love” and thought the butterflies in your stomach weren’t just nerves.

Somehow I missed that phase, and landed straight in the land of cynical and sarcastic.  And now that my meth isn’t around to support my cynicism, and appreciate my sarcasm, I’m having a Love Crisis.

Is it too late to want to be swept off my feet? Can I believe in teenage puppy love, even if I’m not a teenager anymore? Can I somehow just be doe-eyed and dying to be in love…NOW??

Now this may come as a surprise to all you joonies, because of everything I’ve ever written. But trust me, I’m just as surprised to find my soft spot.

& I think a lot of my Cynical Sisters probably have it too, if they look hard enough.  Nowadays, it seems to be so much more popular to be cynical, sarcastic, and pessimistic. There are so many characters in pop culture today, of women who are independent, single, and cynical– And while I think its much more entertaining (and accurate),  its just happening too young, too soon.

It could be boys breaking hearts at a younger age, but then those girls deciding to hide the hurt under sarcasm and wit.

Yeah, I’ve been there. But now I want a taste of the other side. The girls who fall in love left and right. The girls who even after they get hurt, just keep going back for more.

I used to laugh at them. Actually, I used to think they were stupid.

I mean who takes Charlotte seriously? Sappy & Romantic just aren’t synonyms for Intelligent and Independent.

But I think I’m the one that’s the idiot here– being a strong woman doesn’t mean ‘never falling for the bullshit they call love’– and laughing at everyone else who does. That’s just being egotistical.

I think I have always wanted to stay far away from “Chick-Flick watching needy girl” that I’ve overcompensated, and become intimidating and mocking. But,

Why let those girls give Love a bad rep?

If I fell in love today, it would not take my independence away. It would just be an added bonus, like that painless brazilian x1000.

I can still be funny and witty, without having to bash Love.

I can still want to be swept off my feet, without being a Romantic Dreamer.

I’ll still be me, even if I have someone to gush over sometimes.

For the record, I’m not in love. but I’m finally ready to admit that I’d like to be at some point…

One small step for (cynical wo)man. One huge leap for mankind…





SAAGHI  ساقی

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