Pears and Awkward Self-Hugs (I couldn’t come up with a clever title)

Happy New Year folks! (Yes this about 2 weeks late, but I promise I started the draft on New Year’s day. Clearly one of my New Year resolutions was NOT to stop procrastinating)

Anyhow! Since, it’s officially “New year, new me” season, I wanted to take the time to share my goals with you wonderful people.

I’m aiming to go from this:


To this:

Shoutout to pear

That’s right ladies and gentlemen! I’m going to be like all the 83318739280186 people who rush to the gym after the holidays and get SEXY as fuck, like my man Rick Ross.

And to all the haters who are rolling their eyes and are not recognizing the sheer magnetism of the hunk featured above, well….



and b)

you lying

Y’all really tryna tell me that you didn’t swoon when he shouted out pear?

Jokes y’all! (Well…not the pears/eating better part. Pears are fucking delicious).

Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten about my weird and sarcastic sense of humor? I’m gone a few weeks and I feel like I have to post some good material to win y’all back!

Except you Ma! I know you think I’m G.O.A.T aka Greatest of All Time!

Side note: You have to admire his confidence. This dude never wears a shirt because regardless of what you think, HE thinks/knows that he “got it like that” and that’s all that matters.


I took a sabbatical from the interwebs, which is why it’s been almost complete radio silence at UA!

I mean…I didn’t even Instagram my holiday pictures or tweet my hopes and dreams for the new year. And we all know that if you have a thought but it’s not published on social media, it didn’t really happen (which I realize is hypocritical coming from a girl with a blog but…


(Other side note: Someone I know wrote a fantastic FB status update on the whole “social media validation” thing but I can’t link to her personal page. I’m not sure she reads this blog, but actually, “Shoutout to you girl!”)

However, I did want to share with you my awkward moment while ringing in the New Year and was hoping that maybe one of you could relate.

*Setting the scene*

On New Year’s Eve,  I went to this fancy-schmancy gala, held at a “way too expensive for my pockets” hotel, with the familia.


(This is the foyer of the hotel. And before some of the less-than-smart people think of asking, “Yes, this is in Haiti”. This may come as a surprise but countries don’t have a single narrative. Failing to understand those nuances leads to a deceptively one-sided depiction of aforementioned country. *Steps off pedestal and closes dictionary*)

This was a swanky affair. Women were wearing ball gowns and prom dresses. I’m pretty sure I saw a few pairs of Olivia Pope gloves.

Unfortunately, I missed the memo and yours truly was wearing something cheap and cheerful. I did accessorize with some glitter shoes. Does that make up for it? Full disclosure: the shoes were from Payless, so maybe not quite.

Regardless, I was ready to have a good time. I was spending the evening with people whom I love, listening to great music, getting my DRANK and GRUB on. I thought everything was going swell until the countdown to the new year.

Now, before I explain what happened, let me backtrack and tell y’all a little story. I have a younger brother. I would give my left kidney for him, love him dearly and am so proud of him. All this to say that I love this kid more than anything (well…him and Mamma are tied, or maybe he’s a very close second)

Said hermano is in a serious relationship and missed his boo thang so much that he bought her a last-minute ticket to come to Haiti. While that’s so beautiful and romantic, a girl can’t help but be slightly bitter.

Listen, it’s not that I’m looking for a relationship. I’m entirely too selfish and unsure about my future. Plus my relationship with cheese demands a lot of my time and no man can measure up to cheese. So why bother?!

But when you see these grand gestures, you can’t help but feel like:

single as fuck_mindy

And makes me want to say this to my brother:


(Remember that I love you boo and bitterness is an ugly, ugly little thing!)

Especially when I can’t even convince someone to buy me a candy bar! Le sigh!

Anyways! Where were we again?

Right! The countdown.

First of all, that shit was unexpected. Not in the “I can’t tell time so I didn’t know it was almost midnight” sense, but in the “I didn’t even get a warning and next thing I know people were on 3”. So I’m caught off guard, slightly tipsy and fumbling to get up to yell “2, 1, Happy New Year.” Only by the time I got to “Happy New Year”, I went left and the person next to me was kissing their significant other. Not to be defeated, I went right and…same scenario. So in the end…

The-Four-Myths-of-Self-CompassionNow eventually I went around the table and hugged the madre et al., but right as the clock struck midnight, I could only awkwardly stand there and hug myself.

And you know what, if that was you as well, don’t be ashamed. Because RuPaul knows the truth and that is:


Plus, there was a plethora of various types of cheeses at the buffet. So my true love wasn’t too far away 😉

How did you ring in the New Year? Prayer circle (and no I don’t mean that sarcastically), awkward self-hug, kissing your one true love, kissing the person that you’ve been dating for 2.7 days and naively think  is your true love?

I want to hear all about it in the comments section!

All sorts of awkwardness…

This week is going to be a little different folks. I will be posting twice in one week (Contain your excitement mother!). One post reflecting on the events of these past few weeks (I have a lot to say and am trying to figure out the best way to say it) and this one on just my regular awkward self. Stay tuned…

It’s been a while since I’ve done a weekend wrap-up, so I think we should go with that for this week. Which, if you think about it, is so pretentious. I am assuming that my life is interesting enough that I should not only write about it, but I should ask people to read about it. Oh to be a young millennial with access to the internet and social media!

And even after this revelation about my self-centered assumption that people are interested in my life, I’m still going to write this and am still going to ask you to read it. And frankly…

Not even sorrySo here goes.  This weekend I was asked to be *sexy* and…


(Too nerdy?)

I decided to sign up for this dance master class called Seduction, and awkward does not even begin to describe my experience.

I’ve been trying to expand my comfort zone (hum yeah….thanks for that tidbit Cece Olisa. I’m obviously kidding girl. I think you’re great but this process was uncomfortable for everyone involved and I need someone to blame) and this was definitely trying too much, too soon. In the words of Kevin Hart…

she wasn't ready

The instructor kept saying “Just add your sexy”. Note to self, that does not mean tripping and falling on your behind, or apparently, ripping your pants (which I noticed today while putting away my dirty laundry). *Hangs head in shame*

Not only did I look uncoordinated and unstable on my feet, but y’all also wanted me to add “sexy”? Clearly, you were asking for way too much sir.

At some point, they decided to do a Soul Train Line-type deal. And that’s when your girl lost it. I legitimately cowered in the corner and had a panic attack.

And when we finally got into the choreography, I thought I was doing a half-way decent job…until I saw some video footage (I can’t embarrass myself to that extent on the internet, so I won’t share it).

Let’s just say…

This is what I thought I looked like:

beyonce_sexy walk

This is what I actually looked like:


So for those of you wondering, awkward sexy is not a thing. At least not a thing that I can make happen.

And then I had the most “meta” (I hate using that word but it applies), weird conversation with a friend, about WHETHER WE WERE FRIENDS OR NOT. We literally ended up having a DTR conversation, but about friendship. Dafuq?!?!?


I was kinda intense about the whole situation (Dude, my bad). Do you ever hear yourself saying things while wondering why you’re saying them at the same time?

Here’s how that convo should have gone:

Person 1: “I’m sorry I was an ass”

Person 2: “Yeah, kinda hurt my feelings, thanks for apologizing. I’m sorry I was an ass. Didn’t realize it. Let’s hug it out and then move on.” DONE

Nope, that would have been too normal for me apparently. Instead, we talked about “baggage” and “perceptions”, blergh!. The conversation felt like couples’ therapy, with people acknowledging all sorts of feelings and shit. Ugh…


Dude, let’s never, EVER, do that again. Thanks!