*based on true events, viewer discretion is advised*

Now this is a just a pun off a movie title obviously, or maybe I really did experience one too many frogs—in my case, I like to refer to them as birds. "If you're a bird, I'm a bird, right?" Well it's safe to say, I've met some freaking weird birds, but I’ve loved every second of it because it led to the single mother lover that I am today. Hey, I’ve got lots of time to meet this bearded hipster man that I imagine myself creating some little turds with...preferably named Ben and Lily...and have a large plot of land...with maybe a couple animals.. OH! and a vegetable garden. Is that too much to ask for? Maybe one day he will drop out of the sky “when I least expect it.” (Typical line from mom/friend about your failing love life)

Now what I can’t rack my brain around is that girls settle. I should raise both hands in the air as if I was at a black gospel church service because I’m guilty of it. I like to see the best in people, but what I’ve found is that there is good in everyone…you just have to find the good that works for you. You don’t buy a size 7 shoe if you are me and have Fred Flintstone feet A.K.A. 10 wides; it doesn’t work. Everyone is a series of these extraordinary experiences in their life that has molded them like a pile of Play Doh into what society wants. I’m not trying to be all progressive hippy on you, but seriously all of the real quiet and controllable Barbies end up with these Ken doll characters that don’t truly appreciate them, and they accept the crumbs. It’s honestly about the little effort going out of your way to show that you truly care about someone. Sacrificing a little bit of your time against maybe what you want to do to appease someone else’s needs. Simple right? Well until you make yourself happy, you will forever be unable to make someone else completely happy.

I’ve been on all sides of the spectrum, the desperate girl, the unfaithful, the emotionally misunderstood, the perfect Barbie, the serious long term relationship, and a part of the hookup culture. And through this I have learned a little bit about people which has allowed me to piece together some of the pieces of my own puzzle. I’m currently in my junior year of college, I’m 20 years old, and I’m focusing on myself for once (single as a Pringle, hollah atcha boy).

So where do I start you on my journey through the birds? Well why don’t I start from the bottom so that you understand why I’m here?

Once upon a time back in the days of cosmic bowling, terrible Justin Bieber haircuts, and Pac Sun skinny jeans was my first bird:

“The Brother Kisser”

The brother kisser...now you might be thinking “What the frack?” he kissed you and then his brother? No, this is how I uncovered his true colors,

It all started in the 7th grade. I had just sprouted gourds on my chest and boys started to notice me. Go figure. A bunch of wild animals hungry for sex. I also had a set of souped up grills that year, some purple braces that really attracted the opposite sex. The brother kisser was this beautiful blonde guy that told my friend he had a crush on me—how most love scenarios happen in the movies, right? I reacted just like the high school Drew Barrymore in the movie Never Been Kissed had when popular boy Billy Prince asked her to the prom. He was in my gym class, and I would stare at him. The teen heartthrob. One day he approached me, and it’s middle school so instead of the normal greeting “Hi, how are you?” he asked me to be his girlfriend, maybe the first few words he ever spoke to me. Casual right? So of course dumbfounded I said yes. The weeks following I knew that it was coming, my first kiss. Dun dun dunnnnnnn.

It was a rainy day in April circa 2008 it happened we were going back to homeroom and at the bottom of the staircase he went in for it. My eyes were gouging wide open in fear, lips puckering, butt sweating, and I still only got half of his lip and maybe an earlobe. But, I was ecstatic about it. I smoothly walked up the stairs until he was out of sight, and then busted into a hysterical happy dance while running up to my friend fist pumping hard in the air screaming, “I DID IT!” Super cool right? I was the coolest. And so now I was in, we were soulmates obviously. Love at first earlobe lick. I went to his hockey game, oooo even cooler hot blonde that tackles boys for a puck. I sat at his game and afterwards went back to his house and then he asked me to go to the park down the street with his brother and him. So, of course me thinking harmless I went there, we did normal park games and then here is where this bird got funky and RUINED IT! Like a soiled bologna sandwich that you left in your lunch box over the weekend. He said “Let’s play a game.” (DO YOU WANT TO PLAY A GAME… *Saw references*) I said, "Sure, what?" He replied let’s play freeze tag and make it interesting, “How about the only way you can tag us is if you kiss me and my brother.” I laughed and thought it was a joke until they both looked at me seriously. I mini pooped my pants and nervously laughed and told them that my mom was on her way to pick me up so that we had to head back. I swerved hard. I dabbed out. My mom rolled up in her swag get-away minivan, and I went home. I was horrified. I didn’t know what was normal in a relationship, but I knew that sounded really off, but I didn’t want to be a single loser so Monday rolled around and I saw him in the hall. I sadly waved to him and he didn’t speak to me. I was so sad. I felt like a weenie for the first time in my life. The next week I was replaced by another girl, who probably was a brother kisser. Stay tuned for the 2nd date “My Jewish Lover”.