Once upon a time, I was a 23-year-old virgin. Now, I know that’s not insanely old, I don’t have anything on that 40-year-old virgin they made the movie about, but it *is* older than most people. According to a sex survey conducted by ABC, only 3% of Americans over the age of 22 are still chaste, and everyone knows that when you’re suffering through extra years of virginity you multiply those years by seven (as in dog-years), so actually I was, like, a 52-year-old virgin, so that movie should have really been made about me.
I used to have a slight problem when it came to designer goods and credit card debt, by which I mean, my overwhelming love for the former was a direct cause of the latter.
While my shopping addiction is (mostly) under control these days, I DO still believe that some things in life are just too important and too special to try and get at any kind of discount (literal or figurative)… and falling in love is one of them. New on Thought Catalog today, here’s my article: A Label Whore’s Guide To Love.