When the Ex Comes Crawling Back: How to Deal

Image by © Josh Gosfield/Corbis

It’s a common scenario. You’re over the breakup…In fact, you’ve been over it for quite some time now. Maybe you’ve dated someone else and maybe he has too. You finally see your life as whole. Your future is wide open, undefined by that boy or how much the relationship changed you–for better or for worse. But then, it happens. You receive a call, followed by a text explaining the reasons behind his sudden urge for contact. “Hey, was just thinking about you and wanted to see how you were doing! I hope you can forgive me.” If you’re as cold-hearted as I am, his number was probably deleted long ago, so you pause for a second and wait for the last four digits to sink in.

It hits you, and you know.

The feelings that wash over you in the next few minutes depend on the amount of time passed and the relationship itself. Nevertheless, you find yourself deep in a pile of unsortable emotions.

Mine bordered on anger at his audacity to think he could ever become a part of my life again, complemented by glee at getting to have the last word. One more chance to tell him why and how he hurt me, and that I never wanted anything remotely like him again. Ouch. As I pressed send, I realized I was not coping in an adult way. I was petty and slightly cruel, even if what I said was true and presented in a respectful way.

It felt good to know that I was stillwanted, and that I wasn’t replaceable like I had feared I was for so long. Everyone wants to be the one that got away. But the fact of the matteris, unless you have plans for a friendship or plans to get back together, talking doesn’t help. Getting the last word in will only make you dwell on that broken relationship. Will make you dwell on what he did wrong or what you did wrong, and all the painful memories that follow the dissolution two persons’ happiness together. So don’t do it. Take a breath, and delete the text. Better yet, block the number. Moving on means not taking any steps backward. So keep your chin up and keep looking forward. That last word isn’t worth it, I promise.

I #(Kind of)LoveMyJacks

                      

I’ve always lived by the mantra “If it’s good enough for Jackie Kennedy, it’s good enough for me.” So when I saw a pair of the infamous Jack Rogers sandals on consignment last summer, I snatched them up faster than John could say Marilyn Monroe. I got them for $60 bucks and after a year’s worth of wear and tear, they’ve yet to look overused.

If you’re a fan of classic looks, preppy style, or have ever met a sorority girl..you’ve probably seen these sandals gracing the toes of a Jackie-wannabee out there. And if you haven’t, the #LoveMyJacks Instagram campaign has provided more excuses for super duper cute pics of preppy feet, so you’re bound to come across them at some point. “Jacks” as Jack Rogers veterans casually call them, come in every color you can imagine. They have a Brazilian leather upper, a solid wooden sole, and typically run for around $110. They’re not cheap, but they look nice and supposedly last forever. So after finding my Jacks in a moment of serendipity, and wearing the heck out of them, I looked down at my feet today and asked myself, do I really love my Jacks?

The answer: I have a love/hate relationship with them. They look great, it’s true. They look great with dresses, with jeans, with shorts, with anything. Somehow the style magically adapts itself to look casual when you want it to, and dressy when you need it to. Jacks are ever reliable in that regard. However, they are not that comfortable and whoever tells you differently is lying. In short spurts, they’re fine but as an all-day shoe? Forget it. The wooden ole provides little cushion, leaving the bottom of your feet defenseless against the pebbles, sidewalk cracks, and general toughness of the ground below. After walking in them for more than a few hours, I’m guaranteed sore feet the next morning. And they clack. My Jacks fit me well, but each step draws attention with a steady, unbecoming, clickety-clack.

I can’t say that I’ll ever be that Jack Rogers girl. I probably won’t own multiple pairs at a time, or even buy one pair for full price. I can’t say that I loveeeeee my Jacks. But I really do like them. They haven’t failed an outfit yet, and sometimes sore feet is the price you pay for fashion.

Eyebrows: Get Them on FLEEK for Summer.

Eyebrows are important. If they’re not at the forefront of your makeup routine, perhaps you should take a long look in the mirror and really think about what you’ve done…or rather, haven’t done. Ok, cool. Now let’s make up for lost time. Tips for treating your beloved brows right: 1. Don’t pluck too much. I know, it’s tempting and so easy to get carried away. But before you reach for that little clump of hairs to “just even it up a bit” take a deep breath, and close your eyes for ten seconds. Find your center and open them slowly. If you still feel the need to go that extra step, alright fine. Just remember, pencil thin eyebrows were only hot on Christina Aguilera in 2001. 3. Invest in a good brush/comb combo. I use one like this from Sephora. Gently brushing your brows adds volume and the angled brush at the end really assists in shaping the perfect brow. 3. Don’t pencil. Instead use powder. I didn’t fully understand the importance of powder until I got a European Wax Center powder compact for Christmas, and I can truly say I will never use pencil again. Powder is much more precise, looks a thousand times more natural because it clings to individual hairs, and in my experience, lasts much longer than pencil does. .  4.  Using an eyebrow serum is crucial! It blends the powder smoothly and locks it in tight. I know, I know you’re thinking you’ll be fine without it, or you’ll just use some mascara…NO. You won’t be fine. Splurge on the serum. Mine has already lasted a year and a half. (I use the European Wax Center’s serum as well). Therein lies the secret to on fleek brows. Go forth and shape them well, my friends.

Best Gluten Free Burger–Boston

                                                    

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I’m recently out of school and face-to-face with the bittersweetness of boredom. After going stir crazy at home, I made the trek into Cambridge for a drop-in ballet class. The class, described as “intermediate, but those with dance experience should be able to follow along” was a humbling experience. After what felt like an eternity of flopping around in front of several professional dancers, my ballet shod heels clicked together “there’s no place like Tasty Burger. There’s no place like Tasty Burger,” and I drown my sorrows in a quarter pound of meat, cheese, and pickles.

With gluten free options popping up more frequently, especially in cities, finding great GF eats is no longer a rarity. However, finding products that taste like their gulten-full originals is sometimes a struggle. That’s why I adore the buns at Tasty Burger. I LOVE burgers, so whenever a place has gluten-free buns, I’m all over it. But sometimes the buns are too crunchy on the outside, too crumbly on the inside, or just don’t absorb the juices and sauces like they should–refusing to become one with the burger. Whatever Tasty Burger is doing, they’re doing it right. I usually order the Big Tasty and would eat one every day (I’m not kidding) if I could.