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.

advice, dating, humor, lists, love

Do You Like Them More Than You Like Sleeping Diagonally In Your Bed? : Getting Over Your (almost/sorta/kinda/not really) Relationship

I spend a lot of time being in terrible relationships. And, sometimes, I reflect on these past relationships. Or, lack there-of. Or, what I would consider relationships because it involved multiple encounters of hanging out together and being intimate, but, where the other person is like “What? No, this is casssssuuuuuuaaaaalllll….thiis is so casual…why are you expecting me to treat you like a human person? You are so absurd and clingy!”

And, sure, I’ll take some of the blame because, holy moly, I have some terrible taste in partners. But, after the initial let down I get pretty bummed. I need a little pick me up, a little “how do I get over some jerk being a jerk to me?”

And, I’ve solicited advice. From google. And in the many, many articles I have combed through  I have found some okay advice. Mostly, however, I have found some very obnoxious advice (or what passes for advice now a-days). A consolidated version of the most annoying tidbits look like this–

  1. Immerse yourself in a new hobby:

Oh, yea, no…sure. Because…I work 8-5 with an hour commute tacked on to each end, and then I come home and walk my dog, and make dinner– but, I FOR SURE have enough time and energy to start taking up glass-blowing or para-gliding or whatever. Be real! I bearely had enough time to hang out with the jerk, now I’m supposed to be fitting in a whole new hobby regimen!? Did you think I didn’t have hobbies before? That my hobby was hanging out with losers and getting my heart beat up? That’s not a hobby for me. That’s an unfortunate event. I have hobbies, I don’t need new hobbies, I need some advice on how to not be so bummed out.

  1. Cut off all communication:

I get that in an ideal world where we all live in a fantasy land where we somehow didn’t meet people that we are having relationships with in intersecting spheres of our lives this makes perfect sense. Uh, yea, of course if I could never see or talk to that person again I wouldn’t.  But,it turns out, I live in the real world, where real people live, and I end up having to encounter people I’ve been intimate with for a multitude of reasons and I can’t just ignore them while we are sitting across from one another at some function. Like, I would like to ignore them, but, it’s so hard to do that at the one grocery store that is open at 2am when I desperately need the beer it takes to drown my sorrows and the checker that I was sleeping with wants to know if i want paper or plastic.

  1. Just move on:

Oh! Oh really? Should I just ~move on~? Is that why I am reading this article entitled “101 ways to move on”? Well, if I had only known all I had to do is move on I would have done that. I can’t even believe that’s actual advice. It’s actual advice that is referenced multiple times. Yes, I realize I need to move on, that’s why I am asking for advice. Maybe I will move on, to a different article that is actually helpful.

But, from the horrors of my life, I have come away with a few things that have helped me get through the tough times. The sad times. The “why do I even care about this person who is so clearly awful. Maybe if I could stop thinking about them for ten seconds I could,” times.

1.Eat a lot of whatever it is you like:

You like ice cream? Good! Me too!  Eat it. Eat a lot of it. As much as you want, and then more. Don’t worry about the calories or the sugar or the gluten or whatever. Are you lactose intolerant? Fine. Eat some cookies. You have a gluten allergy? Whatever, get some kale chips or popcorn or something, I don’t know. Just don’t worry about it and start the damn healing process already. You know this works. You’ve seen literally one thousand movies where heart-broken people are drowning their sorrows in food. You think that they just pulled that off the top of their head? Noooooo.  This is Hollywood, man. When was the last time Hollywood had an original idea? They use it because it works! It’s a thing. Just do it already. If you’re really that worried about the weight do it at the gym while you’re on the treadmill. Get your gallon of ice cream and crank that baby up to a full run and go to town.

2. Realize they do not and are not going to miss you.

They aren’t. .I am so sorry. Like, I know there are a ton of songs that say dumb shit like “you’re going to miss me” and, “I’m gonna make you miss me” or, “you’re gonna be really bummed out that you didn’t want to keep banging me because I’m actually super cool” (I may have made that last one up), but they are  lies. Ain’t nobody missing you or going to be wanting you back. They should be missing you. But, it turns out, you have horrible taste. And you are hanging out with d-bags who are not going to miss you. And, it would be really cool if I could be like “But, no, sometimes they do miss you. And they want you  back,”. Gross. No. That’s a lie. Do NOT fall for it. If they are missing you and wanting you back it is because they are in some place where they wished someone else was missing them and they are trying to feel validated. Put some garlic around your neck and send that vampire home. They will suck all your happy life-blood that you just cultivated by eating the equivalent of a Ben and Jerry’s factory right out of you.

3.Be fucking awesome.

No, but, for real. Forget about finally figuring out how to paint and picking up tennis and learning French. Just, do the things you want to do. Love them. Recognize that you are really rad and not everyone will appreciate that. And recognize that a lot of time people are idiots (like,most of the time). That way the next time some shmuck comes around wanting some of your time, you can recognize how much your time is worth. And should you choose to give that person some of your time, that will be your choice and on your terms. And it may end up sucking again. And you might have to break out the ice cream/cookies/kalechips/whatever. But, in the end, you will know that you are the most bad ass person you can be because you are focusing your time and energy on you, and not worrying about how you are going to fit in your new cross-fit work out into your day now that you have to drive across town so you don’t run into the person you were seeing.

But most importantly–

  1. Ask yourself- :Do you actually like this person more than you like sleeping diagonally in your bed?

Oh my gosh, probably not. Do you know why? Because sleeping diagonally in your bed is AWESOME. Sleeping horizontally, vertically, in a ball, spread eagle…all the ways you can sleep in a bed when you are alone and some random isn’t in there with you taking up space. Seriously, if you are heart broken, or even just bummed out because your one-night stand didn’t turn into a two-night stand, just ask yourself if their company is really more awesome than being able to sleep however you want in your own bed.

And if you do find that special someone who is super worth sharing the space with then you should let them know exactly how much they mean to you. I suggest a card, or a placard.


Look at that, I just solved your Valentine’s Day crisis—you’re welcome America.