It was me. Period.

A few weeks ago I posted a poll for my Instagram followers on topics they would want to read about. On of the responses was “period stories.” I’m definitely not questioning this input. This is a normal answer that any human would give. I have to give them what they want. There is one story that haunts me sometimes, but as you may have already known, it is not one of my top most embarrassing moments. I mean it was gross for sure, but I don’t lose any sleep over it. You’re probably wondering what it was. I have one word for you: Superbad.

For my freshman year of college, I went to NC State to get out there and try something new. I didn’t intend on going there just for freshman year but it turned out that way. Many reasons were the drivers to me moving back home, which actually is a great blog post idea… Brain, remember to do a post about why I transferred home from NC State. This specific incident didn’t have anything to do with it, so I digress. Those that know me know I am NOT into frat guys and have very low tolerance for sorority girls. However, when you are a freshman you will do anything to get out of your dorm and when you are too young to buy alcohol or go to bars, you really don’t have a lot of options. There was this one fraternity house where my friends and I would go a lot – it belonged to Theta Chi. The frat house was an old motel that they renovated into the ultimate bachelor castle and had pretty bang-a-rang ragers. The bathrooms, however, were worse than that of a port-a-potty at a music festival. Definitely not equipped with toilet paper or soap. Therefore, any girl that came to the parties who was on their period had to suffer with the consequences of wearing an hours-old tampon. You were better off using Mother Nature’s toilet and toilet paper. But this was a huge group of guys living on their own for the first time, in a gross-ass old motel, so I don’t deduct any points from the guys for this situation. After all, they are a lesser species – unless we have a draft for the next World War. Then they are, indeed, the stronger species.

Anyway, there was a guy in Theta Chi, named Zach – he was a junior at the time and very good looking. After our make out session during my first visit, I discovered that he had lived in Delaware for a few years growing up. We bonded over that and every time I went to his parties, we were an item for the night. My third time or so there, I remember I was wearing a black miniskirt (the black part matters) because I was young, skinny and hot. I also was wearing a fully loaded tampon. However, I did not know this was a fully loaded tampon until later that night. Zach, poor Zach, was wearing khaki shorts and a polo (the epitome of what I am NOT attracted to). I was sitting on his lap for awhile until my friends pulled me away to dance. Later that night, I saw it; The Superbad stain on his right leg. It was about the size of a golf ball. I was pissed because I thought some other girl had been sitting on his lap and leaked on him (I did see him dancing with another girl a few times). He was actually a gentleman and didn’t care about the stain at all, but he was sure it was from me. I was so offended – I could NEVER be responsible for something so icky. Thanks to my black skirt, I didn’t see a stain on myself and couldn’t check my underwear because the line for the pee-pit was too long. And technically I may not have even had a stain on the skirt because my bare-ass was probably what was sitting on him. Every time he blamed me, I fought right back. Being drunk, I got over it quickly and *allowed* him to walk me back to my dorm. He came inside (my dorm, you nasty people) and hung out for awhile. We were making out on the ground under the bright, florescent, overhead mood lighting and he took my shirt and skirt off. All we did was make-out, Mom, I swear. It was getting late, or early, I’m not sure but I wanted to go to bed. When he left, I changed into my jammies and – yep, it was me. Like, how could I have not known? It was a lot. Like, a lot a lot. There was no washing that out either. It was absolutely, 100%, without a doubt me. I never admitted it to him but he knew. I wasn’t as embarrassed for myself as I was for him. I mean, its my blood. But he had to exist through that party with some girls vagina blood on his leg. He must have really been into me though to come all the way back to my place anyway. Also, whoever let me wear a skirt while I was on my period is a horrible friend. You should know when and if I am bleeding and tell me a skirt isn’t a good idea. Shame on you.

That was not the last time I saw Zach, but it was the last time I wore a skirt. I also started bringing toilet paper in my pocket to such parties, wearing a fresh tampon when I went out and switched birth control pills because there is no reason I should have bled that heavily. So, there you have it. End of story. PERIOD.

xoxo, stay spicy.

My alibi.

Helloooooo, spicies! Sorry for the break from writing, but you wouldn’t believe the reason for my absence during this past month. I’ll fill you in because you know how open I am about my life. Please save your questions for the end.

About a month ago, I met a guy while I was helping a friend with a grad school project. He was really hot and had his life together ($$). He was an asshole but super nice at the same time that I didn’t really notice the asshole side of him as much. It was really unexpected and moved very fast that I cutoff most of my social life for him. Anyway, before we even went on a real date, I called him to pick me up at a bar because I was really drunk and needed to go home. I’m not sure what happened after that but I woke up in his bed the next day. From that day on, I couldn’t stay away from him. Rather, he wouldn’t let us be apart. He picked me up from work the next day and we went back to his freakishly huge apartment. We were having dinner and getting into good conversation when he brought something up that was kind of a red flag. He was into some really kinky shit that I just wasn’t sure if I could be apart of it. You see, I’m kind of prude and I just wasn’t sure if I was ready to get out of my comfort zone, or if this was the guy I wanted to give all that up for. He made me feel really special and I was drawn to him like a magnet, so I entertained the idea. Sexually, we started off pretty vanilla but then moved to some really raunchy stuff. The problem was, he was really controlling and domineering and I just didn’t like that side of him. He was nice in public but behind closed doors he was someone else. Almost like he had a vengeance inside of him that thrived on hurting me. I was losing my friends and family and just didn’t think I was ready to settle down for this guy. How could I? I couldn’t be with someone who was constantly tracking my every move, dropping in on dinners with my mom, and causing pain for his pleasure. So, long story short, I told him I couldn’t do this anymore and that I needed my life back. That’s how it ended between us.

That didn’t really happen to me because that’s the plot to Fifty Shades of Grey, but it was fun to pretend for a minute. The real reason I took a break is because I am a lazy piece of shit and I started this blog when things were really slow at my job. I usually write all of my posts on my down-time at work, so it looks like I’m busy. Unfortunately, I have been inundated with work the past month or so, so I actually had to hustle. The last thing I want to do when I get home is look at another computer. I’ve also been spending a lot of time learning NSYNC dances, trying to go viral on TikTok, hosting gatherings at my house, and binge-watching Netflix. I don’t know what to tell you, I just have a busy life. But, I really missed this blog and want to keep the momentum up. I ran out of business cards so I need to replenish. I guess that is a good sign, but I am pretty sure they all ended up in the bathroom trashcan at various bars/coffee shops. I’ll be back shortly with a real post…

Keep it spicy.


Hi friends. Sorry for the delay in getting a new post out. I have been suffering from I-don’t-want-to-do-anything syndrome and it has really taken a hold of my life. I’m trying to shake it off but all the players wanna play play play play play and the haters gonna hate hate hate hate hate. The other problem is I haven’t had anything interesting happen in my life for a few weeks until yesterday.

Goldilocks and Da Bear

I imagine most of my readers either A) live in Delaware or B) are friends with me on Facebook/Snapchat and saw my stories, but for those of you who haven’t (thank you for reading), let me tell you about how I was woken up yesterday by a bear in my neighbor’s yard. I had been home sick, going on day 2, when I woke up to a bunch of missed calls/texts/voicemails from my mom. I called her back and asked if she was OK (I keep telling her to get a Life Alert) and she started yelling, “ABBY THE BEAR IS IN YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD!” I had no frickin’ clue about the words that were coming out of her mouth. In my half-asleep state I couldn’t process hardly anything, let alone the fact that a bear was in my neighborhood. She had to say it a few times before I opened my eyes enough to see the news playing on my TV. I sleep with my TV on every night so the news is on when I wake up so I can keep myself educated. Once I finally opened my eyes, I saw my house on the TV via helicopter live-feed. First of all, I didn’t even know a bear was on the loose in general, so when my mom kept saying “THE BEAR, THE BEAR!” I didn’t know what in the Sam Hill was going on. I said, “I guess I should go shut my back door then.” I usually wake up between 6 and 6:30 every morning to feed my dog and let her out, and I leave the back door cracked so she can go in and out while I’m home. I got downstairs (sans-pants and glasses) and Olivia was barking like crazy. I got her inside and shut the door and then opened my front door to see what was going on. In the blur of my glasses-less eyes, I could see a ton of cop cars and caution tape closing my street down. I ran upstairs and put pants and classes on, and a very discreet HIGHLIGHTER YELLOW sweatshirt. When I went back outside, I must have blinded the cops because they yelled at me to get inside my house. The news showed the bear 4-doors over in their back yard, hopping fences. Meanwhile, Olivia is running back and forth with me at my side trying to follow the action. Can you imagine if my mom didn’t wake me the fuck up and my poor little puppy was bear food? That’s all I could think about all day. Not to mention, my door was open so that bear could have found ole’ Goldilocks upstairs in a bed that was just-right. Now, I live in the CITY of Wilmington. I was not trained on how to deal with a bear, I don’t carry bear mace living in the city. We would have been in a sticky situation.

Eventually, the bear ran off toward a local state park, but not before it almost got hit by a train. The TV showed the bear running along the train tracks that cut through the city and I could hear the train from inside my house. When I say he missed that train by 2 seconds, I mean it. There would have been bear-pâté had it not realized a giant choo-choo was coming to exterminate. I have never seen such an exhilarating high-speed bear chase in my whole life. Luckily by nightfall, the police lost the bear and don’t know its whereabouts anymore and are still searching for it in the city. And to all my animal-lovers out there, don’t start telling me that we should leave the bear alone or that we took over its habitat so that’s why it is here. This bear traveled from safe-bear land looking for food for hibernation and ended up lost, endangering itself and others. Its not like it lived in the city all along and that apartment building on Pennsylvania Ave was its final straw to come out and search for a more livable apartment. The bear needs to be transported to a safer habitat for itself with more land, trees and food. The only way to do so is to tranquilize it so it can be calmly removed from danger. I saw the police come within feet of it multiple times on the news, but they were unsure of how to capture it so that it was safe for them and the bear. I’d rather not “leave it be” so that my dog can never enjoy her back yard ever again. I paid for that shit.

You may see a video circulating around the news/Barstool showing the bear on someone’s back deck. That’s the house that is ~4 doors down from me. Please don’t send it to me. I saw it on every medium there is. I added the dude that posted the video on Facebook because he’s hot and we’re neighbors and he doesn’t know me yet but ~*heeeyyyy Jimmy*~. To all my Trolley peeps – tell me about the excitement you experienced with the #Delabear! I’m curious.

Ok, love you all. xoxo TSL

Unsure of what I just wrote about…

I have been thinking about this blog post and what the hell I’m going to write about. I’ve had severe writers block the past couple weeks. Then I realized, I’m not sure you all need a “planned” post from me. The feedback I’ve gotten is that y’all just enjoy my random thoughts. So, that’s what this post is going to be. Oh, for my birthday, my friend got me this awesome blog planner, which I intend to use! But I’ll start that for the next post.

This is how desperate I am to date – I have my Instagram name on my Tinder/Bumble/Hinge/OkCupid profiles so that in the event I miss a valuable match, they can reach out to me anyway. I get so many random messages from dudes that saw me on those sites and are just shooting their shot. I respond to almost all of them, even to just say thank you for the kind words. The other night, I got a message from someone that had like 2k followers and only pictures or videos of him surfing. You couldn’t see his face in any picture, but he was trying, so I was not going to rule it out. He had asked me to hang out sometime and I said that I was flattered but it wasn’t very fair that he knew what I looked like but I had no idea who he was. So, he asked if he could add me on Snapchat. I agreed since my Instagram name and Snap name are the same – I can’t very well pretend I don’t have one. He sent me a picture of his face and he was cute. I sent him a picture of me sitting on my couch in sweats, glasses, no make up and wet hair fresh out of the shower. He thought I was so cute so I humored him and tried to get to know him. He kept asking if I would come over his house to hang out… he lives 1.5 hours away and it was 8 pm on a Monday. I told him before I hang out with him, I’d like him to not be a stranger, so I was trying to get to know him first. It took all of 5 minutes into our very first conversation for him to send me an unsolicited dick pic. Mind you, I sent 0 flirty things or pictures and even showed him my ugliest state of being. I responded with, “wow ok that was unexpected and not at all what I am looking for right now. I’m a lady.” He said, “sorry, you just made me excited.” So I responded with, “idk why I am literally so ugly right now,” while he said, “ur my type.” THIS IS LITERALLY WHAT I LOOKED LIKE:

Haha, Mom! You can’t use this as blackmail anymore because I’ve posted it for all of my fans to see.

I really feel sorry for “his type.” Then, without any more words being said HE SENT ME ANOTHER DICK PIC. I said “dude I am not into this, what the hell.” He unfriended me after that, LMAO. I was like what the hell just happened. Within 5 minutes of responding to an Instagram message, I am getting dick pics on Snapchat. Men are actually stupid – If you refer to one of my previous posts, they are literally skid marks on society. *In Russian accent* “I am woman. I am stronger than man. Men are (say it with me) trash. I am right you are wrong.” Now, I know what you are thinking. In my defense, he did not know or read my blog and that I do enjoy the occasional dick pic. But, only when solicited from ME. I don’t understand why dudes think women just want an uncalled for picture of their gross ass wee-wee. P’s are not equivalent to boobs or butts, which are very pretty and soft. It’s like opening a picture and seeing an elephant rampaging toward me about to kill my friends and family. At least wait for a girl to ask for it…if that’s what you are looking for, make sure we are drinking wine before you start a conversation. Then we are sure to ask. Alas, I cannot erase this image from my brain. Nonetheless, I keep waiting for my Prince Charming to come along, so I keep sifting through fan mail until I find the one.

I will say, not every outreach is bad or negative. I’ve gotten messages from some pretty great guys (these are few and far between). Unfortunately, the stars don’t always align just right, preventing the match from happening, but I still appreciate the love! The good messages just aren’t funny like the bad ones are. I think the key with me that I am finding is that I would much prefer to start on a “friends” basis with someone rather than jump right in to dating. There is too much pressure on “going on a date”. Group hangouts are much easier for me than one-on-one. I get too nervous for dates that I can’t stop pooping and somehow always find an excuse not to go. If I have ever done this to you, don’t take it personally. I am just inept at romance, HENCE the singleness. If you friend-zone me first, I will want you much more, so there is a tip for you fellas. Now, this DOES NOT mean friends with benefits. This means, I want you to care about me and my life like I will care about you and your life. I don’t want to be hit up when it is beneficial for you. I want to be treated as a human or how you would treat your other friends. But, whatever.

Anyway, there is my random post for the week. Love you all. Keep it spicy – like I did with my hot sauce on my eggs this morning and now I can’t drink hot beverages.