As I sat in my pink bubble bath, with a full bottle of moscato d'asti in hand, I contemplated my life and the past year in particular. I started reconsidering my actions in 2011, worrying I was acting like too much of a slut. It was definitely the bubbly talking. Because then I realized that I definitely don’t regret a thing I did last year, the men I’ve had sex with and the weirdos I dated. I mean, how fucking boring would it be if I’d sat around, waiting for the “right man” twiddling my thumbs? It was so much more fun experiencing all the different men out there and having sex… and lots of it. Now tell me, what’s there to regret about that?

Nothing. 

2011 has been the most exciting year thus far in my life. I made a big change, transferring schools, changing locations and moving out the NYC. By far the best possible thing I could have done for myself. I’ve started my life out here.. living somewhere in between a contemplative yogi, and a mean spirited yuppie. I’m a ball of fucking contradictions. But what rises above everything else is my bitch attitude. 

Now, maybe I haven’t explained it before but a bitch doesn’t necessarily have to have negative connotations. I describe myself as a bitch, which means:

• I know what I want, and I’ll do anything to get it. So get the fuck out of my way.
• I’m a bit of a narcissist. So deal. 
• 80% of the time I lack emotion. I’m heartless. Don’t come to me with your problems, I usually don’t care.
• I find women who complain about their bodies and cry out for attention, and who constantly need a man to be absolutely revolting.
• I’m not defined by a man. I do not need a man. But men are nice to play with. 

I’d say I embraced my total inner bitch in 2011, if I do say so myself.