Taking a Break From Guys?


If you know me, this sounds just untrue…. but let me explain:


2017 was not my year in a lot of different ways and one major reason was my failed “love life”.  Then again I haven’t had a good year in the guy department since I was in kindergarten because that was the last time a boy I liked, liked me back.  Even so last year was particularly bad. At least 5 different guys expressed concern about ending up on my blog. It felt cool at first because I was like “Oh man, I’m the Taylor Swift of the blog world” but then I didn’t like it as much… A guy I was “seeing” (this term is used VERY loosely) literally cried about the idea of ending up on my blog. That ‘relationship’ (this term is used even more loosely) ended quicker than it started.  


Anyway, the point is, that’s one of the reasons I have been on hiatus from my blog.  Another reason is that I am in the middle of a quarter-life crisis, attempting to figure out the next step in my life and as a result, I haven’t been in the writing mood.  Have no fear though, here are some of the events from last year that I wanted to write about:


  • I reignite a flame from my freshman year by sliding into his DM’s (one of my favorite pastimes) and he actually told me that he had a low key crush on me so I thought perfect. Well, it was not perfect.  There wasn’t any spark, at least on my side, and this is the boy that cried about the blog post so it was pretty obvious it wasn’t going to work. Also, it ended with one of the most traumatic, gross, and also hilarious experiences of my life but I’m too embarrassed to publicly talk about it at this moment in my life…


  • A door reopened with a person that I thought was permanently shut, but after it reopened it shut almost immediately after. Now I believe after about 3+ years with this person in my life, I think the door is ACTUALLY shut and locked. I would go into detail but this person reads my blogs.


  • Another guy from my past saw me one night at the bars when I was visiting my college town and he proceeded to slid into my lifestyle Instagram DM’s but I didn’t see the message till I left.  Fortunately, a month later I was back in town so I finally DM’d him back and we reignited the flame…. But that flame is officially out for good now.


Other boys were sprinkled throughout the year but those were the major bullet points.  As I said, it wasn’t a great year for me in the boy department but I tied up loose ends and permanently shut some doors! I made a vow to myself that 2018 would be different.  I was going to try my very best to just slow it down with guys and take my love life more seriously because it has been a joke for the past 22 years. I’ve been pretty successful so far. I haven’t gone on any dates this year, it may be up to debate as to whether or not that is by choice.  Honestly, I can’t really tell if this break from guys is intentional or not but regardless, it’s happening….




Until next time,


Tara Jacobson


Falling in Love in a Laundromat


My love story with Laundry Boy started back when I was a junior in college. I was taking clothes into a dry cleaner and the boy working there was about my age.  He was making polite conversation that verged on the line of flirtatiousness, and automatically, I assumed he was into me.  I went home and told my roommates that my dry cleaner had a crush on me, which did not phase them. I made this statement at least once a day about a variety of guys.  If a guy did as little as make eye contact with me, I was convinced they loved me.  Unfortunately, this was/is seldom the case…UNTIL this time. Little did I know that this mysterious dry cleaner boy would cross my path 6 months later.
Fast forward to senior year, when I was finally 21.  I spent the majority of my weekends getting drunk downtown and “flirting” (it should be noted that I didn’t do this successfully most of the time, but we digress) with boys.  One particular night, my friend pointed out a boy she thought was cute, but was too nervous to approach him.  I told her that I would go talk to his friend, and then she could swoop in. That friend was a rather large sweaty man doing salsa moves in the middle of the bar wearing a red silk shirt. YOU GUYS GUESSED IT—this boy was none other than dry cleaner boy, who later became known as Laundry Boy because it rolled off the tongue better. You may be thinking that was nice of me to go talk to this guy for my friend, but to be honest, that was the type of guy I often found myself involved with. (Note: I have since changed my ways). My friend ended up being too nervous to approach the guy, so we decided to leave, BUT not before Laundry Boy asked for my number. Because I AM AN IDIOT, who is always afraid to hurt someone’s feelings, I complied.  Laundry Boy texted me almost immediately telling me that his friend actually was interested in my friend, and suggested a double hang out, if you will.  So, in the end, my friend successfully got her boy with A LOT of help from me. You are welcome, friend. You might think this was the end of Laundry Boy and I, but you would be wrong because, as I mentioned earlier: I AM A STUPID IDIOT.
Laundry Boy and I proceeded to have a very weird and short-lived “relationship” of sorts. THIS BY NO MEANS WE WERE A COUPLE. I’d like that to be so very clear.  I thought, you know, I am going to give this guy a chance because he could be a nice guy. So began the series of RED FLAGS.
RED FLAG 1: He wore a necklace with a mushroom in it that he claimed had magical powers.  He told me that if he wore it on his bare chest the energy was too intense. He even let me wear it. Unfortunately, I did not experience the magical powers.
RED FLAG 2: He always talked as if he had attended college, and when I finally asked him where he went to school, he admitted that he actually went to a 9-month technician school. He swore this was “way harder that going to school at Cal Poly, and was more work than a four year degree.” (Note: I have nothing against someone who chooses to go to trade school, but do NOT tell me it is more difficult than a four year school when you haven’t even gone to a four year school.)
RED FLAG 3: I once asked what he was up to, and he responded by saying he was “making money to support your lifestyle”. WHATTTTT. Sorry, come again?! I never once asked him to pay for anything of mine. Also, I am a feminist and don’t need no man to pay for my things… except, of course, for my dad.
RED FLAG 4: You would think that I would learn after three red flags, but I never do.  In the wise words of Sansa Stark, “I am a slow learner, but I learn”.  He asked me on a date, and suggested that we go to the skate park at 10:30pm to play UNO. I wish I could make this stuff up, but this was his actual idea for a date.
RED FLAG 5: After I got mad at him, he started crying. I’m sensitive too, but get your shit together dude.
RED FLAG 6: He told me he was attracted to my roommates. This is a no-no and I wish boys would learn this already.
RED FLAG 7: He also mentioned that he wanted to hook up with my roommate, which was ultimately the final straw.  I will honestly keep hanging out with a guy no matter how weird they are, but the moment he mentions wanting another girl…BOY BYE.  Why would I subject myself to a guy who I am not attracted to, who is weird, AND talks about other girls?
So finally, after all the signs, I told him we weren’t going to see each other again, which made him cry again. I thought I had made it pretty clear we were done, but he proceeded to text me for a few months after…without any response back.  I finally thought he was over it, but about 2 months ago, I had two missed calls from him at 3am. Fortunately, the last time I saw him, he was holding hands with a girl, so I really hope Laundry Boy found love. As for me, I’m single as ever, but that’s okay because I feel like Relationship Tara would have less “fun” stories like this one.




The Fugly Years


To fully understand my personality and slightly self-deprecating sense of humor, I should explain my early beginnings. It is something I refer to regularly and is also the inspiration for the title of my autobiography/memoir or in this case, the title of the series of personal essays: The Fugly Stage. Whenever someone hears me refer to my childhood self as fugly, they often give me words of sympathy or pity but it should be noted that I am thankful for my fugly stage. Without my fugly stage, I would not have the personality I have today. I didn’t have a lot going for me as a child so I had to build up that charism early.
It all started when I was five years old. After one of those hearing and sight tests at school, my parents found out that I had a “lazy eye”. I’m sure that isn’t the technical term but that was my family has always referred to it. Essentially for anyone who hasn’t heard of a lazy eye, it means that my right eye was 20/20 while my left eye wasn’t as strong and had a tendency to wander. The way that doctors correct this problem is by having a child wear an eye patch over their glasses. So that’s what I did for the whole year of 1st grade. They tried to make them cute by putting rainbows and unicorns and hearts on them. I think it is a fairy on the one below. One time a kid asked what was under my eye patch and I told him it was just a bloody eye socket… I was a weird kid.

 After a year of suffering through the embarrassment of wearing an eye patch you would think it got better. Wrong. It got worse, much worse. For whatever reason I hated hair brushes, in fact to this day, I still do not own one. As a child I would wear my hair, knots and all, in a low ponytail with it parted down the middle tied back with those big scrunchies. My wardrobe was completely made up of clothes from the store formerly known as Limited Too (now called Justice). My favorite outfits were the matching sweat suits and to top of the complete outfit, I had a pair of pink and white etnies tennis shoes. I had braces, just like most kids, but it really just pulled the whole aesthetic together. Here are some pictures for your viewing pleasure:

Now that I have painted you the physical picture, there were other things working against me. I now know that I am allergic to most nature, most prominently, anything with fur. My parents didn’t know this growing up and as a result did’t know I was highly allergic to my dogs so I had a constant runny nose, blotchy skin and itchy eyes. Because of this, I was a mouth breather. If you need reference, you know that character from Hey Arnold who was always creeping around and you knew it was him because he was a heavy mouth breather? Me. One time a kid said “Tara, stop breathing so loud” in 3rd grade and that was the first time I became aware of my mouth breathing tendencies.
This kid from Hey Arnold 

Last but certainly not least, I had a speech impediment. Essentially is was a lisp because I couldn’t say my S’s and T’s without sticking out my tongue. For a long time, every time I said my name, people thought I was saying Sarah.  
This all may sound bad but to be honest, I was very unaware of it until I was removed from it. So since the fugly stage I have gotten contacts, cut and dyed my hair, completely changed my wardrobe, got my braces off, went to speech therapy, and started taking Claritin for my allergies. I still don’t brush my hair, occasionally wear glasses, and dress like I am homeless from time to time but not nearly as bad as when I was in the Fugly Stage.

The Time I Almost Became a Stepmother


Disclaimer: This is one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done.

So this story starts with none other then, you guessed it, TINDER. It all happened over a year and a half ago when I matched with this pretty cute guy. We didn’t talk that much and I had thought things weren’t really going to go anywhere. I didn’t know much about him except his first name but he added me on snapchat and I stupidly accepted. Months went by without contact and then one night we started to talk on snapchat and he invited me and my friends over for a bonfire at 2 A.M. RED FLAG. Us being the stupid girls we were, decided it sounded like a good idea to meet this stranger. So around 1:30 A.M. we started driving out to his house in Atascadero. I warned you that this was a story about me doing something stupid…

As we are driving into his neighborhood, a deer jumped out of the bushes and we almost got in a car accident. I should have realized that was a bad omen and we should have turned back, but then there would be no story to write about. We finally arrived and met Gavin* and his roommates. We went to their backyard to sit around the fire and chat. We found out that all three of the boys were taking an indefinite “break” from community college but didn’t specify why. RED FLAG. Two of the boys worked on a fishing boat together while Gavin was unemployed at the time. Also only two of the boys lived in the house while one of them lived in a RV in the driveway. RED FLAG. There was obviously no connection between the six of us so I was trying to think of a way out. After like 45 minutes of small talk, I said “should we take a tour of the house” as a way to slowly make our way to the door but everyone assumed I was making a move on Gavin. I WAS NOT. So just Gavin and I went on a tour of the house. He honestly just showed me his bedroom *eye roll.* He had all these football and wrestling trophies, and when I asked him about them, he said that he had to stop playing because he had too many injuries to the head. We canoodled a little bit but it was clear there was no chemistry.

Eventually we made our way back to the yard and I had noticed a change in the vibe between everyone. Something felt off and after only 10 more minutes my friends said they were tired and were ready to go which I was more than happy to do so. As we were walking to the car, my friends started running and freaking out and as I ran to catch up with them they informed me that Gavin had a 5 year old daughter. FIVE YEARS OLD. He was twenty at the time meaning he had a child his freshman year of high school. I was too afraid to kiss a boy in high school let alone have intercourse. My friends proceeded to tell me that they saw a small pink bike in the yard and made a joke about it to the roommates when they revealed the truth about Gavin. Gavin had some how forgotten to tell me about his child during our canoodle sesh.

When we got back we did a little research and realized it took one Facebook search to find him and his daughter all over. Also his tinder profile picture had a bunch of pictures with a little girl but I assumed it was just his niece or something. You know what assuming does…. I honestly think it was karma for making such stupid choices. It taught me a valuable life lesson: make sure to do sufficient social media stalking before meeting a Tinder boy.

So it’s safe to say Gavin and I did not continue talking after that incident and I have been a lot more cautious about my Tinder experiences…. or have I?

*Gavin is not his real name.

My First Time



This is about the crazy, outrageous time that I first……..

drank alcohol! Haha tricked ya. Recently I’ve been making a lot of drunken mistakes, saying things I don’t mean, doing things I shouldn’t be doing, just a lot of mistakes…So I thought I would tell the story of how it all began.

It’s important to note that high school Tara was on her high horse and vowed she wouldn’t drink alcohol until she was 21.  She also vowed not to kiss random boys, not to smoke weed, and not even say the Fuck word. I should have mentioned this was a very high horse.  Everyone was convinced that I was going to drink in college and go crazy but I was convinced I had too high of morals for that. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

So you might be wondering how long in college I made it without drinking and the answer is 3 weeks. I made it 3 whole weeks before I threw in the towel and fell off my high horse.  But no ragrets, right?

So the plan was made.  Trisha, my freshmen year college guru, said she would walk me through it and make sure that nothing crazy goes down.  Another certain someone who also lived in the dorm with us said he would also make sure everything went smoothly and promised to stay on top of the situation. This soccer player, who shall not be named, ended up being written up that night for intoxication so it’s fair to say he wasn’t that helpful.

We (Trisha and I) decided shots were the most effective way to get the job done, so I choked down two and a half shots of vodka; half of the third shot ended up all over my shirt because I was already ‘too turnt.’  This is where the infamous name Two Shot Tara originated. I was laying down on Trisha’s bed looking up and pondering life because alcohol made me very insightful.  I was having a grand ol time UNTIL creepy Craig* walked in.

Background: Creepy Craig* (not his real name) was from another tower that I briefly met one day and was friendly to but apparently he took my friendly and bubbly personality as flirting and developed a ‘fascination’ for me.

Creepy Craig decided to come see me on the first night I was ever getting turnt and it was really uncomfortable. He literally sat down in Trisha’s room for an extended amount of time while I was trying to peacefully ponder life.  Eventually unnamed soccer player said something that insinuated that Creepy Craig was not welcome and Trisha asked him to leave.  After that, Creepy Craig did not come back but he would walk very close behind me to a lot of my classes. Fun fact: last year Courtney, my current roommate, made out with him.

Back to the story, So I finally decided to stand up after letting the alcohol do its thing and when I tried getting off the bed, I fell to the ground soon realizing that alcohol impairs your motor skills. I can’t remember a whole lot more because I was just too gone after those two and half shots but I wanted to tell this story because I wasn’t always as crazy as I am now. In fact I use to be the opposite of crazy, but I’m just making up for all the years I was suppose to be a stupid rebellious teen when I was actually going to bed at 9:30pm every night and studying on the weekend. LOL.

Honestly I don’t even drink that much…



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