In Which I Say Hello to New Followers

I have acquired several new followers in the past two weeks; and though I’m confident that the vast majority are follow-farming, one or two of you seem like legitimate humans who followed my blog because you actually wanted to read what I have to say (You poor, deluded souls… ^_-)

If that is the case, I should introduce myself.

Euphonic Charity is synonymous for musical love, and this blog is the space
In which I recount the (mis)adventures of a (reluctantly) single twenty-something in her late somethings.

It began as the tale of my online dating adventures.

On October 30, 2013, I created a profile for Plenty of Fish. Thus ensued grand adventures in which I exchanged computer text pleasantries, met with random strangers, and lived to tell the tale (and even formed a few unexpected friendships). Did I find love? Not yet. But you can read about my random (frequently hilarious) journey as I attempted to navigate online romance in posts dated November-December 2013.

I took a break from updating when casual dating turned into an actual relationship with The Physicist (preservation of privacy, ethics, and whatnot). And now I’m currently on a dating hiatus following the end of that relationship. But have I stopped writing? Of course not. One doesn’t cease having (mis)adventures merely because the nature of the adventure changes.

To live is an awfully big adventure.

But it’s always more fun when adventure is shared, so be sure to subscribe to my blog so you can receive notification when new posts are added. (I’m not exactly on a posting schedule, so updates tend to be sporadic).

Disclaimer: All of these posts represent my own thoughts, experiences, and perspectives. I cannot speak for anyone else, but I do speak in the assumption that there are others out there who share my opinions (Or who will at least find them amusing. ^_-)


In Which My Dream is NOT a Heartfelt Wish

A famous princess once claimed, “A dream is a wish your heart makes.”

If that is so, my heart is making some STRANGE wishes, and I’m concerned for my heart’s sanity.

In spite of how fine I feel things have been going, I must have some pent up anger/bitterness/whatever-else-have-you lurking around somewhere in the dim corners of my psyche because this morning I woke up furious with the Physicist. I don’t think I have ever before felt downright wrathful toward someone over a DREAM–a dream that, if it had been real, would have taken place two weeks ago.

Continue reading “In Which My Dream is NOT a Heartfelt Wish”

In Which Weirdnerful Henceforth Means Wonderfully Weird

In My experience, the first encounter after a breakup is generally slightly awkward– or a LOT awkward, depending on the severity of the severance.

Last night was the first time in nearly three weeks that we saw each other, much less spent time in each other’s company.

The Physicist and I shared dinner and Killer Bunnies with mutual friends last night, and the most awkward part about the whole affair was the complete lack of awkwardness. It is, in fact, retrospectively awkward because — well — first encounters after breaking up are SUPPOSED to be awkward…. aren’t they?

I’m completely weirded out by the lack of weirdness.

How weirdnerful.

In Which Weather is Symbolic and Details are Discretionary

Since my employment in August, there have been only three occasions when I have cried at work:

The first was when I was given conflicting information and the grand run-around for why I was not yet a full-time employee after being told I simply had to finish 300 hours with the temp agency.

The second, when I was reprimanded for something I had been told was well done the day prior.

And the third was last week.

Continue reading “In Which Weather is Symbolic and Details are Discretionary”

In Which Even Amicable Breakups Have Stages of Recovery

In the past 9 days, I’ve realized that to every breakup there is a season.

A time for tears.
(He’s gone–And now I can’t give him that sappy card I was saving for a special occaision, and my weekends suddenly have far less purpose, and I had the best April Fools Day prank that now I can’t use, and my inbox is so. ridiculously. empty. JUST LIKE MY HEART sob.)

–Hey, no one said the tears were exactly logical.

A time for laughter.
(Yes, he REALLY said that. Men, right?)

A time for anger.
(At him. At myself. At life in general.
Half the time not even being sure at what or whom–You just want the pinpricks of hurt to be pointing anywhere but at the vulnerable areas a relationship exposes, and villainizing someone or something else is generally the easiest option.)

Continue reading “In Which Even Amicable Breakups Have Stages of Recovery”