CHELSEA I. SLOANE
I will start by introducing myself. My name is Chelsea Isabella Sloane. IS-A-BELLA get it? Apparently guys don’t either. My family says, “One day, my shayna punim, we hope one day soon, but one day, your prince will come.” Shayna punim is a yiddish word for “beautiful face”. I am not sure why my parents didn’t name me Shayna, but it’s probably because they couldn’t guarantee I’d have a pretty face, or they needed a “C” name to honor my great- grandmother, Cecilia Turtletaub-Ross. Nevertheless, Cheesy Chelsea is the name I proclaim. I have a twin sister, Victoria, dubbed the “victorious” sister as she is married. To a jewish guy. Who is handsome. Who happens to be my best friend. Who comes from a wonderful family. Who has a solid job and has never even tried marijuana ! There ya go, people, that’s the closest you’re going to get to a fairy-tale.
Turn to a page not in this book to hear more about their adventure.
I grew up in a predominantly white-collar suburb outside of Philadelphia, my high school was and still is one of the best performing and overall rated school districts in the county, and I can honestly say that I was better than prepared for college. Besides having wonderful parents that supported me beyond what I could have ever imagined, and an excellent education, I’ve always been a “go-getter”, an empathetic person, and a cheesy romantic.
Besides finding my husband, best friend, and life long partner in crime, in addition to working on my individual self worth, I have accomplished so much already. I have a M.Ed in counseling psychology, have landed my dream job, and recently earned a Ph.D. in educational psychology. On paper, my curriculum vitae for women my age is above average, I’ve never been officially broken up with for any of the following: cheating, bad kisser, bad in bed, stuck-up, evil, being “ not motherly material”, dishonest, distant, etc…; in fact, the theme of any breakup– if the relationship even has enough substance to be considered “break-up-able” is, “ Chelsea, you are great, this has nothing to do with you, I’m just not looking for a serious relationship right now. You have so much to give and I can’t accept it because (I’m focusing on my career, already cheated on you and don’t want to tell you, I’m gay, I just got out of a serious relationship and neglected to tell you that you were really the rebound girl, oh, and, I have significant mental health issues and I need to be “free”). All of these fall under the same old, “I’m just not into you…. I am not ready to commit to you.” While all of these reasons are extremely valid, and if I’m being honest with myself, here, 8 out of 10 guys displayed bright red flags along the way, but in this digital dating decade, it’s a definite dilemma for those of us who are ready to dive in head first and find love.
P.S. The aforementioned reasons are valid except the, “I need to be free!” Instead of crying and begging for another chance, perhaps I should have asked how captivity was treating them prior to forgetting to take their meds, shadily looking for another option, and/or gambling their money away on the Kentucky Derby two months in advance.
From My Lily Pad to Yours…
You know it’s time to begin writing, what sounded like [in my head] a great story idea after the first or second dating mishap. So, when I received an alert on my cell phone indicating I had a new message from (insert dating app here), I checked it at once. Wouldn’t you?
Busybee: I remember you
Me: (in my head) I remember you too, Jack$$ but I’m going to pretend like I don’ t for a second because you told me some stupid story about why you couldn’t take me out on a real date after we made out in the middle of the night. You do, do you?
Busybee: You don’t remember me?
Me: Do I continue to make him think I don’t remember him? I mean, he does look different and it did take me a second to recognize him in these new pictures but it’s definitely AllStarr…Let me guess. We talked or “texted” for about two weeks. We never ended up going out in public, or maybe we did and then you vanished?
Busybee: ummmm… That’s royally messed up because we definitely slept together!
Me: How come he suddenly cares? We had a sleepover?