What is the big deal about Ryan Gosling? I don’t get it, and I never have.
The Internet (and “real life”) is freaking out because he’s having a baby with actress Eva Mendes. Um, did anyone think they had a chance with Ryan Gosling? Like his having a baby was the ultimate personal shutdown to you, Ryan Gosling fan. Sorry, but him having a baby doesn’t affect you in any way. You didn’t have a chance before, and you won’t have a chance ever. Sorry. He’s not even the guy you probably think he is. He’s just an actor. You don’t even know him. Let him live his life.
Anyway, here’s what I don’t get about Ryan Gosling.
Dear Oprah 4,
The Council was like, “So humans are irrational narcissists deeply obsessed with their own interests? Cool, cool. We understand now that the adults are just dark and twisted babyhumans, most interesting.” And I was like, “No, you guys got the wrong idea,” and Pinky Stardust was like “Uh, that’s probably because you suck at explaining things, L,” and I was like, “Sorry, Pinky,” and Pinky was all, “Get it together” and I was like “Fine, I will, geeeeeeze.”
I’m getting the sense that Pinky is a no-nonsense chick, and I’m not sure how we’re going to get along because I like at least some nonsense in my close girlfriend relationships, which is exactly what Pinky is going to be someday: my closest girlfriend ever. She’s never going to see it coming, but I’m going to gradually blindside her into lifelong friendship. She’s going to love me so, so much.
Anyways I say to The Council, “Council, the humans are selfish, I cannot deny it, but that is not the only thing that defines them.”
And The Council was like, “Prove it.”
(NOTE: I use the term ‘date’ very, very, VERY loosely.)
Freshman year I went to a bar completely by myself where I flashed my shiny, new fake ID and was allowed entrance. I was wearing boot cut jeans (I know…), a sweatshirt I got at Pacsun in maybe 2010 that I am certain I still own, and a walking boot that I had to wear because I broke my foot from “dancing too much.”
I ordered a drink or eight but didn’t really talk to anyone, and before I knew it, it was bar close. Shit. I called a cab and waited outside the bar to be picked up. That’s when I met “Dan” who will be referred to as “Dan” to protect his identity and also because I don’t actually remember his name.
Dan was a music major who graduated college before I had graduated high school. He stood at around 5’6” (I’m 6’5” so you can already see the cracks in our really, really short-lived relationship) and looked kind of like Diplo, I think. We chatted for around 10 minutes before he invited me back to his humble abode, and of course I agreed because I’m gross.
Over the course of the ten minute walk (or in my case, hobble due to my walking boot) to his apartment I learned that he was unemployed and that he and his dad don’t really talk anymore. What I found inside of his apartment proved to be a lot more interesting.
The other week, I had a rare Saturday night off, followed up with a Sunday morning off. Somehow I forced myself out of bed, away from Netflix, got dressed up in the vintage dress that was collecting dust in my closet and headed downtown to visit my bartender best friend at work.
There’s something empowering about strutting downtown when you know you look good. It felt fun, sassy, confident and sexy. I headed into my friend’s bar, a classy, speakeasy type establishment where the lighting is low and flattering and the music is the perfect soundtrack to your life in that very moment.
The tables were full of couples having date nights as I headed straight to the bar. We started chatting as she poured me a gin drink from heaven and I know that I made the right decision, Orange is the New Black could wait.
A few handsome men, who know my bartender lady friend, came in to say hi. “Hello boys. Thank you, Saturday night, you’re treating me right,” I thought.
Zooey Deschanel is one celeb who isn’t afraid to let her inner “fiery feminist” fly. And I love her for it. It seems like so many female celebrities nowadays are almost afraid of the F word — feminist. Not so for Zooey. In an interview with InStyle, she talked about how not every woman’s dream is to be a mom, saying,
Like every woman is dying to give birth! I don’t think so. Nobody asks guys that. And you go into a supermarket and every tabloid is like, ‘Pregnant and Alone!’ Stuck in the 1950s ideal of how a woman should live her life. This brings out the fiery feminist in me.
Tonight, on The Bachelorette! Condom-less fantasy suite time! In the Dominican Republic!
We watch the b-roll team’s footage of Andi pretending to write in a journal, as she discusses her excitement about each of her remaining suitors. Josh is “so funny” and Andi is her “complete self” with him. Also, we still don’t know what Josh’s day job is; I think it is “expectant Johnny Drama” to his brother’s “hopeful QB Vincent Chase.”
Sometimes we make the situation more complicated than it is, but it’s usually pretty simple: if someone is really, truly interested in hanging out, they’ll make it happen.
It was about a month after I’d met Kyle—he was that one kid who always sat in the front of my biology class asking really obvious questions, but it was kind of endearing. I’d started nonchalantly sitting a row closer to the front every week, attempting to not look awkward as I inched closer to the incredibly handsome back of a head I’d been staring at all semester. A few weeks into class, I finally got the guts to say hi to him, and eventually he asked me out.
The horror story starts at our third date, at a particularly fancy restaurant-that-shall-not-be-named. I felt like a princess as the hostess took us to our table and he sat down across from me in a flattering collared shirt. I was stupidly gawking at him and wouldn’t have heard a word the waiter said if it hadn’t been for that familiar voice.
Kim Kardashian gave an interview with CNN in which she proclaimed, “My mom kind of taught us girls we could have it all.”
She was responding to PepsiCo CEO Indra Nooyi’s remark, “I don’t think women can have it all. I just don’t think so. We pretend we have it all. We pretend we can have it all…Every day you have to make a decision about whether you are going to be a wife or a mother, in fact many times during the day you have to make those decisions…”. Miss Kardashian clearly believes the opposite, going on to say, of Nooyi’s statements, “I mean, I think that’s just not really, like, a positive outlook. … You know, [my mom] works hard. She taught us that if you work hard, it’s just all about prioritising.”
I’m trying very HARD not to make some gross pun about our country’s 29th leader, President Warren G. HARDing, whose juicy pre-sexting era love letters to long-term mistress Carrie Fulton-Phillips make Anthony Weiner look like his namesake.
As a president, Harding kind of blew. He didn’t even serve a full term and, still, he managed to bring the glorious age of reform that Roosevelt and Wilson worked very HARD (ok, I’ll stop) on to a screeching halt. His administration was corrupt, ill intentioned, and visionless. Harding brought his homeboys into the cabinet so they could hang all day doing nothing besides accepting bribes from oil companies. If Justin Beiber were to be elected, it might look somewhat similar, but way more bling bling and a special guest appearance by Usher.
And while Harding was self-admittedly terrible for the job of leading the free world, he was …a really skilled erotica writer, and I’d have to assume lover, based on details of the love letters he wrote to his 15-year mistress. These guys were hot and heavy, and it was totes on the DL. Of course it was clandestine, because like any rock solid affair, both parties had spouses. But more important than Harding’s wife, Florence’s, feelings was the fact that his sidepiece, Carrie, was a German sympathizer. Oh girl, no, don’t go around talking up the Kaiser and shit. It will get you NOWHERE.
I didn’t become Facebook friends with my boyfriend until four months after we had started dating. In that four months, we got to know each other, started a serious relationship, met each other’s friends and families, went on a trip, fought, made up and took lots of really great pictures. But none of it, not one bit of our relationship, lived online.
This social media abstinence was done intentionally. I entered this relationship knowing I wanted something more serious. And one of the common denominators that I saw affecting my past relationships was the messy layer that social media was adding. That misinformed perception that inherently comes along with judging someone based on a handful of pictures, on the slice of life they choose to share online, denies partners the intimacy and depth that comes with really getting to know each other. Getting to know all sides of each other’s lives, not just the bits and pieces displayed in a news feed.
There are plenty of ways to keep social media from playing third wheel in a relationship, but since most of us aren’t ready to go off the grid, here are some ways we can use it to our advantage.
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