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When you’re little, you don’t know anything about fame, cults, men playing volleyball shirtless in jean shorts or really anything that can happen in Hollywood.
That’s why, when you see Top Gun for the first time, you think that’s what kissing is like. That iconic scene when Tom Cruise and Kelly McGillis’ characters finally act upon their bottled up passion.
As an adult, thinking about that scene, you giggle. They make love very passionately, in a soft blue moonlight. Open mouth kissing, with tongues gently caressing each other’s mouths and lips. All as “Take My Breath Away,” by Berlin plays in the background. However, since I just re-watched this scene – you know for research and fact checking – it’s still crazy hot.
Breakups are tough across the board, but it’s a different beast for the one who gets dumped. While the dumper tiptoed off the rug, methodically rolled it up and placed it in the hall closet, the dumpee simply had it tugged out from underneath them.
They’re hurled into a whirlwind of anger and shame and disbelief. They feel betrayed, yet still in love, which in turn makes them feel crazy. Their self-worth plummets, then rises on a good hair day, then plummets again when they see a sandwich that vaguely resembles the dumper’s face.
It’s very touch and go, and I feel for the dumpee. But I’m not talking to the dumpees; I’m talking to the dumpers. And dumpers, I’m here to tell you this:
Ten years ago, I was a senior in college just about to graduate. To celebrate, I went out with some of my best friends and my friend Jake, who had brought along his friend Mark.
We all spent the night dancing like crazy to hits of the 80ʼs, drinking and having a great time. Mark and I started dancing with each other and, as the night went on, he kissed me on the dance floor.
I was finally one half of a couple at middle school dances that makes out like crazy on the dance floor in front of everyone not giving a fuck – except please remember I was a senior in college, like of legal drinking age.
I had never met Mark before, but I knew that he and Jake had been friends for a long time. If he had Jake’s approval, then I knew he was a good guy. Also, he super cute, so, yes please.
Ok, so I did know one thing about Mark; I knew he had recently broken up with someone. That was fine with me, as I was leaving town soon anyway. I was going to use Mark. Not in a mean way. It’s just, come on, this was the perfect opportunity for me to get some real dates under my belt before I headed into the real world.
As the night wound down, Jake drove us home as Mark sat next to me in the back seat holding my hand.
Ever since that moment in “My So Called Life,” when Jordan takes Angela by the hand in the hallway, in front of all of his friends, declaring their relationship; holding someone’s hand is all I’ve ever wanted.
As we got to the bottom of my street, I told Jake that it was OK for him to drop me off there. I kissed Mark on the cheek, got out of the car, and began to walk up the steep hill to my apartment. It was almost 4:00am, the moon was setting, and the sun was just starting to rise. The street and sidewalks were wet from the rain earlier in the night. The streetlights, still on, were making things very romantic.
It was like a fucking movie, yʼall.
I’ve decided to get a little Emily Post up in here considering there is no current Emily Post and she made it all up anyway. My first order of gauntlet throwing: the social media + break-up connection: what do you with all those photos after the relationship is no more?
I think we need to handle this on a case-by-case basis, which I’ve outlined below. Obviously the real answer is do as you please, but if you can’t figure out what you please, here are some thoughts.
In the last couple years I have actively been trying to pursue storytelling. It’s a great medium for writers who like to perform, but aren’t necessarily actors, which is something my mother might contest to having had to raise a very dramatic child.
Storytelling is scary! You have to get up in front of strangers and tell/remember all the words to a very personal and true story.
It’s even more nerve-wracking when you try to do The Moth, a monthly live storytelling event in multiple cities that’s also an NPR radio show. It’s so anxiety inducing because you basically have to come fully prepared to tell a five minute story on the selected topic, but you might not get to go. The 10 Moth storytellers are chosen from a bag, where you have to put your name in for a chance at the spotlight.
The first time I tried to get up, I did, because you know beginners luck. I have gone several times, since seeking that high I achieved the first time. In fact, I came ready to spill my guts three times with no dice. Even though I left feeling disappointed, I also felt a little relieved. Hey, I tried, ya know?
This past Tuesday, I tried for the fourth time in a row, and finally got up for my second time, six months after the first.
My answer: Only if I really had to!
I came across this article from the New York Times real estate section, profiling several married couples living in New York…with roommates.
Anywhere else in the country and you’d find it a little strange. The first few years of marriages are for Sunday mornings spent in bed, binge watching TV on the couch, walking around in your underwear, and general stewing in the marital soup of each other before you become too comfortable with each other or children appear, whichever comes first. It’s not, stereotypically speaking, an extension of your college/post-college experience, roommates and all.
But in New York, it makes sense, and it’s possibly the smartest decision. It seems like a huge reach for a married couple to afford rent on their own AND save for the future. Perhaps the only way to save for a house is to live with others, if you want to live in NYC of course, which I don’t blame you.
I live in LA and have a pretty sweet set up with my boyfriend. It’s a two bedroom, two bathroom spacious place in a rent stabilized building. We won’t be moving until we buy a house. I haven’t had a roommate since I was 23 years old, and I can’t imagine doing it again, especially if I was married, even if I lived in NYC.
Postcards aren’t enough anymore! We’re looking for high production value people!!
Ok, but honestly, this is so cute, and probably so fun for their friends and family. Also, possibly the best par, it’s totally eco-friendly. No one feels pressure to keep it lingering on the fridge for X amount of months, and then weird guilt when you inevitably toss it in the trash because what else are you going to do with it.
Bottom line: YAY for creative wedding messaging!
I’m not talking about a guy who just believes in you and is cool with you having a career. I’m talking about a guy who actively fights for women’s right in his daily life. If my my boyfriend wore a bra, he would 100% take it off and burn it at a rally to send a message. These are things about him that confirm my suspicions that I am in love with a feminist.
Allen Chou was just 27 when he was diagnosed with a brain tumor. His girlfriend, Linda Sim, was 25. When his diagnosis got worse, they hoped for a miracle… and made a plan. This short documentary explores their journey.
Even if we all texted exactly what we meant…it probably wouldn’t get us very far anyway. JUST PICK UP THE PHONE!
Yesterday the Internet broke over #THEDRESS, leaving co-workers, friends, families, and lovers divided over what color the damn dress was.
Were you and your significant other on the same page? Did someone sleep on the couch? Here’s what #THEDRESS says about your relationship:
datingandhookup.com is a website that explores modern romance in the Millennial era – which, let’s be honest, looks nothing like we were taught to expect. We feature essays, advice and social commentary with humor, compassion and brains, and we vow never, ever to publish a piece called “The 10 Best Ways to Satisfy Your Man in Bed”. Do click to submit your work to us. We love you.
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