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They call it “Futbol.” I call it, “I run up the field once and then demand to take a break.”
I feel like I cannot, in good conscience, ignore the fact that JP said some pretty ignorant, offensive, and downright bizarre stuff over the weekend. Two things:
1) I don’t think his opinion holds a lot of sway in American society.
2) I suppose I must respect his Sarah Palin-guaranteed first amendment right to say terrible things without any sort of consequences, as well as his first amendment right to blame being taken out of context. (Oh, context, how DARE YOU strike again!)
Here’s the deal, JP: You’ve really got no excuse for this kind of willful ignorance, being under 35 and living in a major metropolitan area. You’re not that old guy on that show, even though I would guess you have a shared revulsion of reading. Use your meeting with GLAAD for good, and I will recommend this pretty picture book as a starting point (you can also listen to it on CD if you don’t have time for the words).
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It’s fun music about how people are different but, yet, not so different where it counts.
(Kicking my soapbox back under the table to watch The Bachelor)
Newton figured out that for every action there is always an equal and opposite reaction. What a smart man he was. I rarely think about the negative consequences to my actions, though there have been many instances when something happens that I would have preferred not to happen.
Sexual promiscuity sometimes results in my least favorite human emotion: shame. Shame is that sickening sensation you get in the pit of your stomach that travels up to your heart and suddenly you feel like less of a person. It’s a horrible feeling that makes you want to hide in your bed forever and eat icecream. Shame can be coupled with guilt. Like the shame I felt waking up in the morning next to a man who was not my boyfriend with hickies on my neck. Or waking up next to a guy after a one night stand, only then remembering that one of my closest friends has the biggest crush on him and if she were to find out, she’d be crushed.
Shame can also come out of nowhere, as in the shame you feel when your skeletons decide to exit your closet and throw up all over your life. This is called “public” shaming. My first experience with this type of shame happened my freshmen year of high school. I was not the victim, but watching two of my very good friends go through it was awful.
I don’t doubt for a second that women are harder on ourselves than men. We’ll stare at our thighs and let out a stream of curse words that would make Joe Pesci say, “Whoa, chill out.” We’d stay stuff to ourselves guys would never even dream of saying to us. When men fail, they tend not to take it as personally as we do.
Let’s change that.
As someone going through what we call a “transitional period” (read: “I feel like a total fuck-up” period), I have some tips how how to not feel like a total failure, even though you may really, really want to.
I wasn’t surprised when my gal-pal told me her date with The Writer was textbook romance, breathtakingly lust-filled. He took her to all the best spots in LA. Wined and dined her. He kissed her in the rain, for goodness sake.
And then three or so days later, The Writer was struck with a brilliant idea that required him composing a short novel, disguised as a Facebook message, wherein I think he invited my gal-pal to visit him somewhere in Europe. He also said a bunch of other stuff. This was one of my favorite chunks:
“I really enjoyed my time with you. It was a small sample size, but I feel rather confident in saying that you’re unique. I’m normally a philanderer (*this is a fancy word for “womanizer”), and don’t put much care into the long term pursuit of a woman. There are two reasons for this. A) great men in history and fiction tend to be free and independent. B) American women tend to bore the very core of my soul. [...] I can’t even be bothered to chase my liquor. So I can’t very well be bothered to chase women. So I’m not asking you to come. I’m telling you.”
12 lengthy paragraphs filled with a bunch of other stuff just like that. Misogyny, wrapped in pretension, all intended to make the lady swoon. How lucky was she to have caught his eye.
They say when you want to get in shape, it’s best to find a workout buddy who can hold you accountable. And if that’s the case, who better to motivate you to reach your fitness goals than your romantic partner? This article at Psychology Today explains the many benefits of working out as a couple. Check it out and give it a try!
What if your date brings a lamb? Or eats a lamb? Or is a lamb? What then?
What if you ordered something really delicious and your date ordered something very average and you feel bad for them but at the same time you’re just full of disgust and annoyance, because why the hell would you order anything but melted cheese on top of something?
What if you were on a dinner date and suddenly someone came up to you and said, “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, MICHAEL BUBLE!!!” and Michael Buble was behind you playing a piano and you were like, oh this is cool, and then you go to a bar after your date and then the same person comes up to you and says, “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, MICHAEL BUBLE!!!” and Michael Buble was behind you playing a piano AGAIN? I think that would be too much. Am I wrong?
Doesn’t this look fun.
A note on spoilers: You don’t have to Google too hard (I won’t link to anything as it is just too tempting for the weak among us, and I am one of those weak people) to find some of the spoiler-related news that came out last week regarding this show. To which I say: You must go to your God with your need/want of this information and your willingness to enjoy my amazing, amazing recaps and the show itself. I am not saying I have looked at them (which is to say, of COURSE I have) but I will not reference any of them in my recaps because it ruins the fun (and since my brain is clogged with nonsense relating to Donna Martin, I don’t quite remember any of the spoilers anyway).
On with the show.
I consider myself an honest person. Open to all perspectives and frames of mind. Rarely am I shocked, offended, or bothered by the opinions of others. Opinions help you to gain knowledge and perspective and insight into things and people and that’s a good thing.
I received an opinion this weekend from a man that was quite different from what I’m used to hearing. He told me “Darling, I love who you are; I love everything you stand for and I wish you the best, but I think you just might be one size too big for me.”
Think you might be interested in a second date with someone? Then you probably want to avoid saying any of these things. (Also: don’t steal their wallet.)
A week and a half ago, I packed up my single girl apartment full of everything that represented ME, circa 2010-2013 and headed five miles east to a brand new apartment for my boyfriend and I to share. Having only a few weeks notice, I had to act fast. Luckily, or unluckily depending on how you think about it, I had already done this before (THIS being lived with a significant other), and had some experience with the process. Whether you’re a seasoned, serial cohabitator, or you’re considering taking the plunge of a co-lease for the first time, here are some tips I learned in the past few weeks:
Do you need help finding a man? Joe Bonomo would like to offer his dating advice with his 64 page book titled How To Find Your Man from 1954. Want to find and keep “Your Man”? Follow these tips!
1. Start by filling out a handy chart of “yes” or “no” questions.
Here are the questions (and Joe asks that you fill them out twice. First before reading the book, and then after.)
1. Sure you want to find him? (Sure.)
2. Are you ready for him? (Oh yeah.)
3. Are you mentally relaxed? (Hahahahahaha.)
4. Are you honest with yourself? (Sure.)
5. Can you be honest with him? (Oh yeah.)
6. Are you feminine in appearance? (…what?)
7. Do you look happy? (Well not when I’m having panic attacks, which is fairly often.)
8. Can you share? (Yeah unless it’s my stuff.)
9. Want a guy who’s not quite perfect? (Are you hitting on me, Joe?)
10. Are you prompt for dates? (I try my best, I swear!)
11. Is your outfit complimentary to him? (Yes, I spied on him before our date and matched my outfit accordingly, down to the tie.)
12. Do you want him tailored to fit your idea of Mr. Right? (Who is Mr. Right, really?)
So how did you do, ladies?
“Certain things, they should stay the way they are. You ought to be able to stick them in one of those big glass cases and just leave them alone.”
― J.D. Salinger
He reaches across the table before taking another sip of whiskey and asks me, “Why in the world do you still read paperback books when you can just read everything on a Kindle?”
And I fumble around in my head for an answer:
I like the way a book feels in my hands…
Used books, you know, they’ve been places…
I like to surround myself with evidence of the stories…
I couldn’t come up with any groundbreaking reason or mouthwatering argument to fire back at him with.
It’s just that I adore the process of finding and holding on to an actual back. The butterflies that’ll claw at my stomach when I hear the plot summary of a book I absolutely need to read. The way that acquiring that book doesn’t have to be so instant—like the majority of things we want and can get in a single click. There’s a wait time from the library or the internal debate we face at the nearest bookstore over whether it’s worth it to fork over the $13.99 for the book, instead of using that cash to buy a sandwich at Panera for lunch. It’s the heaviness we feel—the ache that tap dances on our shoulder— from carrying that book around with us everywhere we go. How the book has been places before it has been ours and how we can so easily leave our mark on its pages forever—a simple crease or a chocolate covered fingerprint on the edge of a page.
“Sometimes,” I begin to tell him, “There’s comfort in doing things the same way you always have.”
Soon, we’ll start to say the same thing about dating. Why walk up to strangers in a coffee shop, strike up conversation, and potentially ask them out, when you can just scroll through a hodgepodge of online dating profiles? Meeting someone at a concert will soon be I stumbled upon them on Spotifly and thought their playlist was rad! Meeting someone at a networking event will eventually become I connected with them on LinkedIn and endorsed their Microsoft Office skills. There’s even a dating app for the restaurant Just Salad that hooks people up based on the types of salad they like to eat—giving us one more excuse to ignore the people who stand in front of us and behind us as we try to order our lunch. Why communicate in person when you can probably just find them online?
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