dating, love, Uncategorized

Would You Eat A Human(and other topics I discuss on dates)

Rounding in to my fourth (or is it fifth? It at least feels like my hundredth) year of being single, I can safely say that I have gone on ~a lot~ of dates. And, as someone who has gone on ~a lot~ of dates, I can tell you I am becoming quite tired of the first date rigmarole. Mainly consisting of beverages of some sort (unless, god forbid, your special swipe wants to take you hiking or some such nonsense ), and the awkward “are we sleeping together on the first date?” dance. Now, I don’t know what qualifies one to be an advice columnist or dating guru, all I know is that no one has ever asked me to be one. But, I will tell you this, dear reader: The thing that bums me out more than anything is the first date survey.
You know what I mean—when you’re answering question after question about your life, your hopes, your dreams, etc etc until you’re so bored you’re  starting to wonder who you have to write to in congress to get a bill passed for pouring an 8 count to be the standard measurement on drink orders.

Now, I know you’re thinking “yea-duh. Nobody on the face of this planet enjoys that horribly awkward, but somehow necessary part of the date. You’re not making any kind of revelation here,” and, you’re not wrong. But, the thing is, the reason why I hate it (And boy Howdy do I) is because invariably there will come the time when my date will ask the dreaded question. After spewing my guts and trying to make cross stitching seem interesting for the past twenty minutes and thinking I’ve really made progress, staring deeply into his eyes and thinking that I am probably going to make it out of this one alive, he will pop the question :”What’s your favorite music?”

“Whaaaaat,” you screech(insert mental gif of spit take here). You can’t believe it. How can that possibly be the question that makes me quiver with unease when there are so many other, less easily answered topics a date could broach? I know, I know reader, you are just like my dates and I can already feel you slipping away. You see, I hate it because I genuinely do not give a fuck about music. And that is tough titties to deal with in the dating world.

Music is fine. I’m happy enough when its on, I don’t mind hearing the music other people enjoy. I appreciate it’s qualities in terms of ability to add to cinematic  moments. There are certainly songs and bands that I appreciate, tunes I find catchy, and so forth. But, frankly, I would prefer to watch a show or read a book than to listen to music and people Do. Not. Get. That. It’s like a personal affront. It’s like I have physically wounded them when I let loose that I can get down with Ke$ha, but I honestly don’t know who that obscure band is and god, no, I don’t really want you to play their five albums for me (but, fuck, okay fine you’ve already brought out your spotify playlist so yea, sure go on lets hear it).

The other day I spent a solid five minutes referring to Heuy Luis and the News as Heuy Lewis and the Band, until the nice gentleman I was talking to informed me of my mistake. I really don’t have much of a knack for it.

Sad though this may be, I’ve decided to get it over with as quickly as possible with the my new dynamic duo of questions. Instead of the boring back and forth of “tell me your passions” and another sad foray into “21 questions” I’ve added in an invigorating round of “what do you hate” ? An exciting river of emotions as the two contestants plow through things that are really obnoxious and off putting to them.  This game is helpful threefold.

  1. It spices up the mundane date with something I actually care about. That something being: are we going to be able to complain about the same crap. Or, even better, are you enough of a curmudgeon for me to begin with? Because, honestly, you can have your goals and aspirations, but if you aren’t going to rant about people walking two abreast down a sidewalk that barely fits one person and then those people won’t move over to let you through—thank, frankly, I’m not really sure we are going to be compatible. And, also, if you don’t mention a general distaste for cable/internet conglomerates right away then I will have to naturally assume you are the devil incarnate.
  2. It is the easiest way to find out if someone is a racist/sexist/classist/abelist/otherwise-ist kind of person. Nothing screams “run the other direction” than somebody telling me they hate when women talking about periods.
  3. But, most importantly, it gives me the opportunity right out of the gate to express that I do not care about music. It is not my life, it is not my drug, it is not the one thing that keeps me going. They will learn, very quickly, that concerts do not give me any kind of high, and if they see me at one its because I’m supporting a friend, or it’s the one band I care about.



Now, as if it is not enough to simply know the things that can drive my new potential partner looney toons, I’ve decided to up the ante. If they have been willing to play along up until this point, they should have no trouble in the lightning round, “Would you eat a human?” Now, before you get all up in a tizzy, this is always qualified by letting everyone know the extreme Donner Party-esq circumstances. I’m not asking you to bite in to me during foreplay, I’m merely wondering if we are on the same page…survival wise. If we were stranded, for whatever reason, and someone that wasn’t the two of us died in a way that didn’t involve tainting their nourishing meatparts would you eat them to survive? Again, the question serves threefold.

  1. If you are too freaked out by this question to even answer, then we aren’t going to get along. I am as weird as I am morbid, and if you won’t even entertain my curiosity of this unseemly topic then you probably also hate Stephen King, and if that’s the case what use to do I have for you?
  2. If we were stranded and we did need to eat someone, don’t you think it’s important our values line up? Can you imagine what an awkward conversation that would be, like, ten years into a relationship when one of us is clinging to life and the other one is too disgusted and prefers to die? Isn’t that something you want to know before you have children? That if push comes to shove you’ll have help rearing the twins in the woods like savages because all of humanity has come crashing down? I’m just saying, it’s something people should be on the same page about.
  3. If they answer yes too quickly before I can qualify what kind of situation would require them to be eating the flesh of humans, I can boogie out of there right quick. I love Thomas Harris’ works, but I am in no mood to be reenacting scenes from Hannibal, thanks.


I’ve found this is the quickest and safest route for me to take to really streamline the process of letting everyone know where I’m at, music-wise. While I’m happy for everyone that has their passion, I’m not really trying to life a life where I need to know about all the best bands in the tri-state area. If you’re a musician and we end up dating, I will happily support you and talk about your inspiration, but until then, keep your info in your soundcloud.



Menstruation Make-Up (not nearly as gross as it sounds)

As anyone who knows me knows, I am not one to shy away from talking about menstruation. So, when my brilliant and beautiful roommate saw some post about someone doing their make up to match their snacks (although, maybe not on purpose), she told me that I should do my make up to match my feminine hygiene products. Clearly, the best idea since actually getting to have hygiene products so, I bring to you–



Menstruation Make-Up (not nearly as gross as it sounds)



The Basic Bitch:

This bitch is pretty much worthless. She’s the one you go to if you’re not quite sure you know whats going on. She’s the kinda lady that drinks a vodka cran. And not just any vodka cran, no, she’s drinking that skinny girl vodka and some lite cran. She’s going to take 3 sips and get white girl wasted and have to uber home. She’s not the kinda lady who is going to help you in a jam. Hell, the necessity for one of these babies is so low that you can go ahead and wear your white shorts out. Odds are, you barely need her. You do need your basic bitch though, and don’t you forget it. This girl is going to be the one that saves your nice panties from stains. And, in a pinch, you can double or triple up until you can get to a reliable flow stopper.


basic b

For this basic b, I kept it minimal. Nude lip and gold liner. A  little glitter there, but you cant really tell (I’m not a professional photographer, and my phone keeps saying I don’t have enough room for pictures. So, I have to go on snap chat and take pictures and save them to my phone–life hack–). You’ll also note the low pony (refer to later blog for a full write up on ridiculous things that belong to the basic b)


The Bad Bitch

This bitch is not fucking around. This is the one that has your back. But, she’s fickle. She’s the kind of chill girl who is going to order a whiskey sour most of the time but then BAM, one day she’s over here taking shots and getting black out. Like, you can trust her–but you can’t REALLY trust her. She won’t exactly make out with your S.O., but…like, she might make out with your S.O., so don’t leave her alone for too long. I’ve had more than a few pairs of underoos ruined by thinking i could trust a regular strength tampon to get the job done.


not fuckin around

For this make up–green was the thing, green eye shadow, green lips, you got me. A bit heavier on the eye too, cause this girl is ready to GET DOWN. Plus a funky cool braid to be edgy but  not ~too~edgy


The Beyonce of Bitch

This bitch is wild. She is not ever going to let you down. She’s crazy, but she can somehow go for hours and hours. This is the girl that is drinking tequila All.Damn. Night. And, you are like, “how the fuck is she still standing all these hours later,” but GUESS WHAT?? She IS. If you’re feeling really insecure, pair this girl up with your basic bitch and you won’t have to worry about a thing. She’ll keep you having a good time all night and protect your clothes. That’s basically all a girl in a homicidal period rage can ask for.


This particular brand of tampon was trying to be all adorable and secretive by putting pretty designs on their tampons. Like someone is going to mistake it for a candy bar. “Yes, I always surreptitiously take my candy bar to the bathroom to consume it, no worries.The idea of you thinking that I take my candy with me to eat while I perform bodily functions is somehow preferable to you knowing that I am using my tampon to not bleed all over your things! “So I put a shit ton of circles on my face using various eyeliners and shadows and I teased my hair to show that I am just as crazy as this crazy ass tampon design.


Sadly, I don’t own a diva cup as I don’t have the coordination to not drop it and create a mess everywhere, so that will not be included in today’s festivities.


Ode To The Steak I Just Made

O! And lo, there I see you lay,
Draped in spices and garlic sin
A succulent sear comes your way
And a juicy flesh lies within

But, hark! I hear your crackle now
A sign that soon you shall be done
An arduous look ‘cross my brow
For my heart you’ve already won

O! If to love is to taste– I will
Ive never met true love like yours
And as I press you to my lips
I exclaim my fervent adore

And when you leave my heart shall ache
My life will be a wash of blue
‘Til another of you I make
I’ll savor the memory of you


I Would Rather Not Crave You, Love

I would rather not crave you, love

(though my heart screams in the face of that lie)

The shards of you that shiver down my spine

Yes, love, you know my weakness

And, yes, you know exactly how to get in

And there you go,

Seeping deliciously into my veins

The hope that lies just beyond

Where my stunted body is unable to reach

Yes, love, you know me well

You breathe my breath, exhale my faults

Oh, love, what you must think of me

Silly girl.

Silly girl.

This starlight was not for my eyes

This fire did not burn for me

My mind plays me the greatest of fools

More so than the lies from the lips of a thousand men

Would that I could catch you, love

Still, I would not, could not be, sated

This heart beats only for the sake of beating

It kindles and ebbs to pass the time

What is there now, love, that there is nothing?

What is the prey when it is not hunted?

Where do the dreams go when we wake?

You left me here, love, at the edge of the galaxy

And, I waited here, blindly, for you

And, as the circles of my eyes become dimmer still

And, the already stale air refuses to replenish

I realize how foolish I have been

You never said you were coming back

My heart tells lies only my eyes can see

I will float among these old sparks of light

Always empty of you

I would rather not crave you, love

But, in the end, I always do.


We’re All Basic Here

When I started tindering I came across this really strange phenomenon: Basic Bitches. All the boys were saying things like “basic bitches need not apply” “Basic bitches swipe left please”. And I thought to myself—What in the world is a basic bitch? So, I looked it up. And, because internet, there were about one million pages dedicated to describing what a basic bitch is(including a rather hilarious college humor video), and there are some absolute treasures in there.

Allow me to enlighten you:

Low ponytails:  Oh, you heard me. Once you slide that hair-tie to the base of your skull, it’s game over, princess. You’ve got your whole head to wear that pony on, so make use of it. Hell, get 80’s up in here and rock a side pony—but the second it passes the line from medium pony tail to low you’ve written yourself a one-way ticket to basic town. Might as well go ahead and un-match all your potential bae’s because they don’t want to be seeing that low pony. What kind of person puts their hair in such a comfortable up-do(or down-do) anyway?  Best play it safe and rock a braid, there is no information on height requirements for braids.

Toasters: no, you read that right. Toasters. That’s right, the thing you use to make pop-tarts. Apparently, if you like toasters you’re basic. Which, ipso-facto means if you like pop-tarts you are basic OR guys only want to date girls that eat raw pop-tarts. You decide. You decide what is better. A life of raw pop-tarts, or toasted pop-tarts, the way God intended. And, can we just do a quick shout out to Quiznos—the most basic of all sandwich shops for their toasted sandwiches. Don’t let them catch you in a Quizno’s, girl, or you’re done.


All Her Underwear Comes in Ridiculous Colors:  Since the dawn of time it’s been known you can immediately tell how awesome a girl is by her underwear. Black means she’s easy, white means she’s a prude, if she’s not wearing any she’s a hoe, and now we know(thank the gods) that if she is rocking any other “ridiculous” color(which is undefined in this article, by the way) that you might as well just shut her panty drawer now and be your on your merry way because she’s a basic bitch. Ladies just can’t win. And, while we are at it, let’s call all the department stores and let them know they royally fucked up their marketing because I’ve been buying “basic” black, white and beige for years only to find out a bunch of white guys from the internet think that it’s “ridiculous” colors that are basic instead! What are the odds?

She Wears Lip Gloss: Do not, for the love of god, moisturize your lips in any form that is not Blistex. If you have to put something on your lips that doesn’t taste like menthol, make sure it is matte, because you don’t want to be lumped into the lip gloss category of bitch. That bitch is a basic bitch. And if people see your shiny ass lips coming towards them they are going to go in the other direction lest they be sucked into your basic gravitational pull. Seriously, put the lip gloss down.

Her Favorite Flowers are Roses:  Because, as we all know, all the cool ladies like corpse flowers. Like, seriously, just because a rose is aesthetically very beautiful and smells like how bacon tastes do not think for a second about admitting that you find that appealing. I think it all comes down to cost. Like, only a basic bitch would pick the most expensive flower as her favorite. So now this dude has to go out and buy a bouquet of roses for, like, at minimum, ten bucks. You know what else you can buy for ten bucks? Two five-dollar foot longs. From Subway. Because,you can’t go to Quizno’s. Because, Quizno’s uses toasters for their subs. And toasters are basic.

She Loves to Bake: Stop the presses. If you like to toast you are basic and if you like to bake you are bake-sic(see what I did there?). Start taking notes. If you like to saute and grill you are safe. The verdict is still out on broiling. You know, to be safe—you should probably just stick to a raw-food diet.


You Love Pumpkin Spice Everything: Because, and I am being completely honest about this, girls who are not basic do not order Pumpkin Spice Lattes from Starbucks. Girls who are not basic go to the the pumpkin patch. They pick out the prettiest pumpkin. They take that pumpkin home. And then they smash it, Gallagher style and rub coffee grounds into it and eat it raw. If you are a bad-ass bitch that is just what you do. Otherwise you’re just kidding yourself.

You Really LOVE Going to Brunch: I’m sorry. Who does not love going to brunch? Show me that person. I dare you.

Your Go-To Up-Do? A Messy Bun Obviously:  Seriously, just shave your head now. Otherwise people are going to be so confused. Can you imagine if it was a low messy bun? You would be queen of the basics.


So, if you want to avoid being a Basic, here are some simple rules:

1) You can’t like putting your hair anywhere but the middle of your head.

2) There are a finite amount of ways you are allowed to make food, and none of them give you the ability to make a pizza at home.

3) Don’t own underwear. If you have to own underwear, run the color by a panel of people first to make sure the color isn’t “ridiculous”.

4) Don’t like things that are shiny, beautiful, or tasty. These things only get you into trouble.

5) Try not to be a human. Because human people usually enjoy some variety of people, objects, and colors and sometimes those enjoyments coincide with a majority of other people’s enjoyments. When that happens the tinder boys get confused and they can’t tell you apart! If only there were some way to divine the difference between female identifying individuals like asking them about themselves instead of just saying things like “No offense, but you look really fuckable,”. How is a boy to know whether or not he’s already said that to one basic bitch if all these basic bitches are the same!?

My advice? If you are a human person that enjoys anything you’re already a basic bitch. Don’t swipe right.


Where Is My Buzzfeed Article About Crochet Feels? (never mind, I’ll do it myself…)


When you can’t find that super cute pattern for free, so you have to shell out five bucks to download it.

and then, after you’ve worked one row, are super confident with it– and NEVER USE THE PATTERN AGAIN

When you find that super cute pattern–but it’s written in swahili

thank god for google translate–amirite

When someone refers to what you are doing as “knitting”

it’s called crocheting–mmmk

When you realize you’ve spent all day searching the internet for the perfect pattern

remember when it used to be light outside?

When you have so many projects of things you’ve promised to make people–but instead you  make another hat you don’t need.

It’s my tuesday hat

When you have to take a break because your wrists hurt so bad

but, at least you know what it would be like to have a real job in an office doing computer things now, right?

When someone online asks you what you like to do “for fun”.

uh, cosplay as an 80 year old woman–I guess.

When you are so proud of all your crocheted things, that you feel compelled to wear them all at the same time

because it doesn’t look weird, it looks vintage(or something?)

When you really need to go to sleep so you can get up early, but if you just finish this one row your project will be the perfect length!

besides, who needs a full four hours of sleep?

When you finally find that super amazing stitch and it just looks so awesome and wonderful and it makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside and you are pretty sure that this is what love must feel like

you know, because that’s probably the closest you’re ever going to get