Bitch, what? Volume 1

I’m dying. Not literally. But I found my diary from my freshman year of college, and it’s a train wreck. Before I even got to the first entry, I opened the diary to see that, on the inside cover, I wrote out the lyrics to Black Balloon by the Goo Goo Dolls.


Why, you ask? Wonderful question.

This specific lyric: “A thousand other boys could never reach you. How could I have been the one?” This may or may not refer to a guy who, at the time, I thought was the be all end all of my life (but who is now waiting tables at like, a Chili’s, and doesn’t have a license due to numerous DUIs). In high school (and almost all of my 20s), it was hard for me to let people in, especially guys. So when Mr. Baby Back Ribs swooped in, I felt all bajiggity.


This feeling of bliss lasted approximately two weeks before he hard passed on our situation and I was left with nothing but morose song lyrics.

It was bad – this happened at the end of my senior year of high school; and well into my freshman year of college I was still pining over this idiot rather than trying to shift my focus to guys at school who were present rather than 1,500 miles away and probably forgot I even existed.

The first entry of this diary was December 26, 1999. Even though I was in my freshman year of college, I spent a lot of time talking about my failed crushes from middle school and high school – you know, to set the stage.


This little excerpt is where I started laughing and dry heaving at the same time:

Second semester rolled around (1997) and that was when I truly believed in love at first sight. I met (name redacted) in my gym class. He supposedly liked me, but by the time I finally got up the nerve to ask him out, he told me he was “grounded.” The truth was, he was going out with someone else. This was probably the beginning of March when I asked him out. I wouldn’t talk to him for at least a week until he finally apologized. Then we were friends in a  very casual sense of the word.


Okay – first of all, (name redacted) was obviously a fucking liar. Second of all, I had a crush on like 19 other people at the same time, but he was always in my top five. He was so messed up – he played more than just me, and then started dating Skanky McBitchFace for quite some time until she cheated on HIM, and it was all just a giant disaster. Moral of the story – gym class sucks.


Oh, but it gets better. At the same time I was pining over (name redacted), my friend Whitney asked me to help her in the drama club with props for a play they were working on. I said yes because there was a senior, Chad, in the play who I had a crush on. However, at the end of the first rehearsal is when I laid eyes on Someone Else. Immediately, I decided I was in love. (I remember very distinctly that Someone Else gave me a ride home from rehearsal one night and “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls came on the radio and he started singing and I pretty much figured life would never get better than that.)

And then…

At drama festival in March, I wigged out when he was all over a girl from another school. That was pretty much the worst day of my life.

Just so there is no confusion, this March I keep speaking of is March of the same year, 1997. So I was equally obsessed with (name redacted) and Someone Else and had already decided I’d experienced the worst day of my life because Someone Else spent the day pawing over a girl from another high school whose name escapes me because who cares.


Now it gets ever more cringeworthy – first of all because this is something I wrote about as a freshman in college and it is all high school shit and second of all:



I met Mac. I had a crush on him and so did my friend K. K and I both had a crush on this guy D, but he liked me so we had maybe a four day fling (we never even kissed) but I liked Mac more so I ended it. Then D asked K to his prom (which I wanted to go to because Someone Else would be there). K dumped D for Mac because he liked her and then it gave me an excuse to go back to chasing Someone Else.

They all had my phone number – I wonder why none of them ever called.


After I wrap up the last two years of high school, complete with writing the most cliche shit ever about Mr. Baby Back Ribs (something about my emotions being too intense and complicated to explain), I proceed to list out all the guys I had kissed up to this point (WITH COMMENTARY). Probably because:


Some highlights (names withheld):

…Well I don’t know his last name, it was one kiss.


…UGGH (this person now has a joint Facebook account with his significant other – bullet dodged)

…sometimes revenge is the worst idea (thank you diary for reminding me of a guy I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT)

…We all make mistakes

As you can see, I was making bad decisions as early as 15 years old.

And yes, I covered all of this in the same entry, 12/26/1999.




Golden Girls vs. Cheers – Which daughter had the worse fiancé?

OMG you guys! I can still log in to my blog. This thing still works! I know I’ve been MIA for about a year, but I am back, finally, although steering away from the topic of bad dates since I’m in a relationship with a pretty amazing guy.

So what am I here to talk about? I’m glad you asked!

Most of you know that my favorite show of all time is The Golden Girls (I own all seven seasons on DVD and went to Rue McClanahan’s book signing in Chicago in April 2007). The other day, one of the Twitter accounts that I follow posted something that got me excited because it was something I decided I wanted to write about:

Now, I have probably also seen every episode of Cheers, and I do remember that episode well, so I decided to rewatch them both and do a little comparison.

Up first – Cheers (Coach’s Daughter, Season One, Episode 5)

The episode actually opens with Diane asking Sam if she can be the Cheers caricaturist, assuring him that if he says no, she’ll be okay with it. Of course he says no and she says she is going to do it anyway, which is one of the many reasons I always found Diane Chambers maddening.


But this isn’t about Diane, this is about Coach’s daughter, Lisa, and her Jankmaster Skeez fiancé, Roy.

Lisa is bringing him in to the bar to meet her dad for the first time (her mom has passed away) and Coach is incredibly nervous.

Lisa comes into the bar first because Roy is parking the car. She’s not what I would consider traditionally beautiful, and I think that’s obviously done on purpose. (Although I’d like to note here that I don’t think Diane is anything to write home about and she landed both Sam Malone and Frasier Crane so what do I know?)


We find out Lisa and her fiancé work together – he is the company’s top salesman (selling suits door to door! Oh, the glamour!).

Sam’s response to that is, “good for you”, because of course it is. When Roy walks in, Coach greets him with the excitement of a child about to sit on Santa’s lap.

After gleefully introducing him to the bar as his daughter’s fiancé, this is their first exchange:

Lisa: And this is my father, Ernie.

Coach: It’s a pleasure to meet you.

Roy: Feeling’s ditto, Ernie.

Coach: Can I get you a nice cold beer?

Roy: Sure, Pops.

Ugh. Feeling’s ditto? Pops? Just stop it immediately. Then again, this is what we’re working with and so maybe I’m not surprised he talks this way at all.


The next thing he does is call baseball a dead sport, knowing his future father-in-law used to be in baseball. And goes on to sing the praises of female full contact karate while hitting on Diane in front of Lisa. (Although it barely registers a reaction from Lisa, which is a different issue I suppose.)

Lisa is Roy’s district manager and he is working NJ territory but desperately wants PA – and only Lisa can give him that. Now, this is a comedy show and this episode aired in the early 1980’s, so a lot has changed since then, but nowadays, this scenario would be an HR nightmare and/or lawsuit waiting to happen.

But, I digress.


Coach, Roy, and Lisa head to Melville’s (the restaurant above Cheers) for dinner. Coach comes back to the bar first and says, “the man’s a pig.” Diane urges him not to rush to judgement too quickly and that there has to be something fine and noble in every human being, including Roy.

Roy comes downstairs (sans Lisa) demanding a beer after he’s knocked over the dessert cart.

Carla dryly asks where Lisa is, and Roy mentions she is still upstairs “settling the bill.” Coach looks irate. (Again, in the early 1980’s, this was A THING. In 2017, probably not as much). Roy’s excuse, though:

Coach: Are you saying you had her pay for dinner?

Roy (aka Mr. Top Salesman): They wouldn’t take a post-dated fourth party check.

Diane asks to speak to Roy alone, which he obviously thinks is her coming on to him. She goes on to babble about how his strong personality can’t be the real thing and that he’s probably really shy and sensitive underneath, to which he responds, “you’re not wearing a bra, are you?”

That is all Diane needs to declare him pond scum to Coach.

Lisa finally comes back to Cheers and her father demands to speak to her in Sam’s office, telling her he cannot let her marry Roy.

Lisa, however, is no dummy. She knows her fiancé is rude, generally unpleasant, and most likely only marrying her to get the PA territory. But she’s going to marry him anyway. When her father asks why, she says, “isn’t it obvious?” (No, sweet pea, nothing is obvious to Coach. He’s a dolt. He was actually one of my least favorite characters on Cheers. Just watch Coach in Love (parts 1 & 2), and it will explain everything.)


“I want to be married and I want to have children! Roy is the first man who ever asked me to marry him, and I’m afraid he’s going to be the last.”

Coach is confused by this and then FINALLY Lisa launches into how she’s not beautiful and never has been. She points out how she looks exactly like her mother, and then sees the look on her dad’s face and pauses. A lightbulb goes off – her father loved her mother and thought she was beautiful so of course thinks the same about his daughter.

This seems to be enough for her to ditch the suit. She asks Roy if he thinks she is beautiful and at first he is confused by the question but then he says, “of course you’re beautiful. you’re stylish, contemporary and you travel well.” (That is how you describe a suit, not a person, Roy. Your priorities, like yourself, are janky.)

Lisa tells Roy she doesn’t want to marry him because she wants someone as good as her father, and his response is fairly predictable: “what about Pennsylvania?”


Yes this is definitely the face of a man who is broken up over being broken up with.

Lisa basically tells him to shove it, and Roy storms out of Cheers forever, with his suit and his attitude.

He leaves everyone much happier, knowing Lisa is not going to end up with such a skeezeball and is going to strive to do better.

Horrible Fiancé Score: 10/10 (rude to literally everyone, hits on Diane in front of Lisa, makes her pay for dinner, is using her for career advancement, his tie doesn’t match his vest, and he knocked over the dessert cart)

Next up – The Golden Girls (Blanche’s Little Girl, Season Three, Episode 14)

Like the Cheers episode, this opens up with something completely unrelated to the topic at hand. Sophia laments about her horrible day working for Pecos Pete’s Chow Wagon, which is just hilarious.


Blanche rushes into the kitchen, elated to receive a postcard from her daughter Rebecca, who has not spoken to her in almost four years.

The girls press her for details. Blanche reveals the fight was over Rebecca wanting to leave school to be a fashion model. Blanche forbade it, but Rebecca ran off to Paris and hasn’t spoken to Blanche since, but now she’s coming to visit. What could go wrong?

On the day of Rebecca’s arrival, Dorothy tells Sophia that she has moved some of Sophia’s stuff into her bedroom since they will have to pair up while Rebecca is in town. The ensuing exchange cracks me up:

Dorothy: Blanche’s daughter arrives today; you’re going to have to sleep with me.

Sophia: Let me respond to that proposition the way your dates do: No thanks, I’ll call you sometime.

When the doorbell rings, Blanche is too nervous to answer the door and runs back into the kitchen, passing the honor off to Sophia. When she answers the door, she is in for quite a shock.


Sophia’s response: What did she model, car covers?

Dorothy: You’ll have to forgive my mother.

Rose: It’s just that we didn’t expect you to be this fat.

(We can always count on Rose to say something so dumb yet so sincere in the most cheerful way possible)

Blanche is obviously quite shocked when she sees her daughter, making a subtle dig about her enormous happiness that she’s been reunited with her daughter. Sophia asks Rebecca where she found jeans that size and Blanche rightfully acknowledges that with a, “SOPHIA.” Rebecca assures them that even though she has lost her figure, her sense of humor is still intact.

Blanche deflects Rebecca’s question on if she’s upset about the weight gain by saying she’s just so happy to have her daughter back, which I believe is true. As she leads Becky to where she’ll be staying (Blanche’s bedroom), Sophia throws out this gem: “Now we know why she’s staying in Blanche’s bed. We know it can support the weight of an average female and two Venezuelan soccer players.”


Blanche tells Rebecca not to worry – she is going to put her on a diet and make her stick to it. Rebecca says she doesn’t want that and is happy the way she is.

This is very interesting given that the Cheers episode was literally the exact opposite. Coach had always thought his daughter to be beautiful, while Blanche now has to deal with her discomfort over Rebecca’s weight gain, while Rebecca is uninterested in losing weight.

Rebecca: Mama, mama, I don’t want your help, I’m happy just the way I am.

Blanche: Happy? Baby, look at yourself, how could you be happy?

I think part of Blanche’s discomfort has to do with that fact that she herself places looks above anything else. Blanche’s beauty comes up in literally every episode. So I’m sure she thinks that her overweight daughter reflects badly on her.

Rebecca astutely points out that Blanche is the unhappy one, not Rebecca, and she’s never been good enough for Blanche no matter what (even when thin). Blanche relents because she doesn’t want her daughter to go AWOL again and says she does love her daughter for who she is.

Fast forward to however many nights later and a nervous Blanche announces dinner is set up on the lanai for when Rebecca gets back from the airport with Jeremy. This is the first time we’ve heard his name and no one is quite sure what their relationship is.

When the doorbell rings and Blanche runs to answer it, the following ensues:

Rebecca: Hi Mama, this is Jeremy

Blanche: Well, nice to meet you Jeremy

Jeremy: Pleasure to meet you too (at least he didn’t say “feeling’s ditto, Blanche”)

Blanche: Won’t you come in and sit down?

Jeremy: Thank you. Oh, you have a lovely home here.

Blanche: Thank you. You seem like a very nice young man

Rebecca: He is a very nice young man

Jeremy: Becky, was she talking to you?

Rebecca: I’m sorry

Blanche is immediately concerned, as she should be. Both these jackholes (Roy and Jeremy) are ramping up the foolishness almost immediately. Roy hit on Diane in front of Lisa, and now within 30 seconds of entering Blanche’s house, Jeremy has chastised Rebecca in front of her mother. WHO RAISED YOU, ROY AND JEREMY?


When asked how Rebecca and Jeremy met, she describes that it was a sidewalk café in Paris, while Jeremy says that since there were no tables left, he just sat “at Becky”.

Blanche does not approve of this either.

After dinner, while Jeremy is complimenting the meal, Rebecca requests that he compliment her new outfit, because  not doing so is not very nice.

Jeremy: Well I’m trying to be nice, that’s why I didn’t say anything.

In the kitchen, Dorothy asks Blanche how she can allow this type of abuse. Blanche is paranoid that if she interferes, it will cost her another four years, so she’s keeping her mouth shut as long as Rebecca is okay with how Jeremy treats her and that she’ll likely come to her senses.

Sophia comes into the kitchen to announce she’s overheard Rebecca and Jeremy talking about getting married. All the other girls are horrified to hear this.

Blanche goes into the living room and this is how Jeremy decides to ask for permission to marry Rebecca: Blanche, I’d like to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage. I’d take the rest of her but I’ve got a bad back.

Blanche pretends her tears are from happiness.

Next up is a spring training baseball game (at least I’m assuming, since the Dodgers do not play in Vero Beach).

Rebecca: Jeremy’s a big baseball fan.

Jeremy: Becky’s a bigger one. Becky’s a bigger everything.

Dorothy: Not everything, Jeremy.

When Jeremy makes a joke about seeing how many people will mistake Becky for Tommy Lasorda, Dorothy has had enough, but Blanche shuts her down, eager to keep the peace.

The final straw, for Blanche, though, is when she has to say goodbye to her daughter. She and Jeremy are flying back to wherever (Paris?) and Jeremy storms in, asking Becky to hurry things up.

Rebecca mentions it will be easier for their wedding if they just run off and do it, to which Jeremy responds, “that’ll be the day when you run anywhere.”

Blanche does not approve.


Blanche: Do you think you could be a little patient, Jeremy?

Jeremy: Look, I know things move kind of slow here at Sunnybrook Farm, but we do have a plane to catch.

Blanche forces Rebecca into the kitchen and asks her why she wants to marry “that lump of nothing out there.”

Rebecca: Because I want a husband, I want a family and Jeremy may be my last chance.


How sad is that, actually, that both girls think the same thing? Did the writers of this episode watch the Cheers episode first?

Then Rebecca tells Blanche to “open her eyes” because she isn’t beautiful or a catch. Again, exact same scene as Lisa with Coach. Also interesting because earlier in the episode, Rebecca seemed perfectly fine with her appearance.

Blanche points out the Jeremy is the one who needs Rebecca, not the other way around. Rebecca accuses Blanche of thinking Rebecca still isn’t good enough for her and storms out.

However, later that night, Rebecca comes back to tell Blanche that she was right and she realized how much Blanche really loves her and she can do better than Jeremy. It’s unfortunate we didn’t get to see the breakup, but I’m sure it involved fat jokes.

It’s interesting – the actress who played Rebecca in this episode was a one and done, but Rebecca as a character does return in seasons five and six. Jeremy is never mentioned. Rebecca ends up getting artificially inseminated and then Blanche uses her granddaughter to pick up a guy. Totally normal.

Horrible Fiancé Score: 10/10 (rude to literally everyone, makes fat jokes at every opportunity, emotionally abusive, and even though he didn’t knock over the dessert cart, if Sophia thinks you’re rude, that’s a problem)


The original tweet asked which episode was more touching. I have to go with Blanche’s Little Girl because Blanche had to overcome her own discomfort about her daughter’s appearance in order to stand up for her. The Cheers episode was very sweet, but Coach never had conflict about his daughter’s appearance. Either way, both dudes sucked and it is nice that the episodes ended with the girls realizing that.



Another ode to social media

Social media is the best and worst thing ever. It has helped reconnect me with friends I had lost touch with, helps me stay in touch with a lot of people who live far away from me, and is generally a fun place to share pictures, stories and trips. And then there are the times it becomes a political or social injustice land mine or the catalyst for seeing things you never should that turn you into this gal:

I remember missing a 7th grade dance because my dad and stepmom asked me to babysit my brother. I agreed, but was bummed because I felt I was missing my shot at snagging a slow dance with my crush of the hour. Well, not only did their plans get canceled, but I still missed the dance. My friend at the time, who would prove to be a big lying liar who lied, told me that said crush was looking for me the entire night and didn’t slow dance with ANYONE.

Of course I assumed this meant we were boyfriend/girlfriend. But those dreams were crushed when I returned to school on Monday to overhear a classmate telling someone how she slow danced with Crush, but it was difficult because he was so much taller than her.

This was in the 90’s, when answering machines were still a thing, call waiting was the greatest invention ever, and caller ID was what all the cool kids had. In other words – it was classmate’s word against lying liar who lied because there was no evidence of the photographic kind (whether it disappeared after ten seconds or not).

If I were in 7th grade today, I would have probably seen a Snapchat story, Instagram picture, or Facebook post to prove my friend had lied to me in real time, and wouldn’t have had to wait until Monday for my dreams to be crushed.

This fuzzy memory is one of millions that make me grateful that all of these things did not exist when I was in middle school/high school/college. I NEVER would have survived. I think about all the drama we create (intentionally or not) with social media. My teenage heart was fragile enough without it. It’s hard enough dealing with this shit now as an adult. FOR EXAMPLE:

  • The guy you are quasi dating but not really finally joins FB and does NOT friend request you, but you find out he joined by seeing that a mutual friend posted on his wall about him joining FB and on the same day, so you create a fake profile to see if he’s on there and an hour later after scrolling through too-many-to-count profiles realize the portion of the comment may have been sarcasm.
  • Constantly having to text one of your 21-year old cousins about the intricacies of Snapchat. What does a star mean? What about a star and a heart? What if there is a firework involved? Why do chats disappear? Can you send a pic or video to more than one person without making it a story?? For something that was supposedly created for the sole purpose of people sending x-rated things to each other, this shit is complicated.
  • Having the guy you’re talking to send you a pic of something, then you log in to Facebook an hour later and see him tagged in the same photo by Possible Girlfriend Who Is Not You and You Probably Aren’t Supposed to Know About.

All of these annoying things happen, but hey, I’m an adult, so I can push the drama aside and function at my day job. If I had to see Pictures I Should Not back in high school – well I probably would have skipped class to cry in the bathroom. In fact, I used to skip Spanish class a lot as a sophomore because Different Crush had that period free so I decided learning Spanish was less important than flirting and I’d just hang out with him in the common area I cannot remember the name of because I’m OLD.

And actually when I was still living in Chicago, I went to Midway to pick up my best friend who was visiting and she was on the same flight as the Spanish teacher whose class I used to skip and she remembered me. And this was over a decade later. She didn’t mention that part – not sure if she even noticed when I wasn’t there, and I passed the class, so no harm no foul, right? (disclaimer, I do not condone skipping class now. But there was no reasoning with my 16-year old self).

This is not me saying I am giving up on social media (although I have been on Twitter less and less). I’m going to continue to use it and and accept the consequences of using it (like finding out someone you were not even friends with blocked you – HOW RUDE).

Social media and my anxiety – a hard truth

This morning, I read this piece in the NY Post about online lives vs. reality. What we post on social media vs. how we actually live. And how our friends’ posts can make us feel anxious or depressed about our own lives as we inevitably compare ourselves to others. I am definitely guilty of this across the board. My posts on Facebook and Instagram don’t necessarily reflect how I feel at the moment AND I constantly compare myself to others. It’s easier to post something lighthearted like, “I can’t wait to go home and take off my bra” than it is to post something terrible about your day like, “Well, I THOUGHT B3 and I were getting back together but then he made me split the check at the Hooters in Costa Mesa, so I guess not?”

This is where my anxiety lies. I look at posts of people happy in relationships, engaged or married, and they make it look easy. Like it was easy to meet someone, and it just worked. And their relationship is perfect, and I can’t find that. (Side note – don’t stop posting these things. It is important for us cynics to believe love is possible.)

I remember very vividly sitting in a meeting at work, in 2008, and being stressed. I wasn’t stressed about the topic of the meeting, I was stressed about how I wasn’t married yet. At 27. And now, at 34, I am no closer. Within a year of that meeting, I was sitting at a bar with a college friend who said to me, “you know you’re going to be 35 and single.” While that comment was hurtful enough, it was also said with the implication that being 35 and single is the worst possible thing that could ever happen to a human.


To make matters worse, I am now second guessing every single decision I have ever made because if I had done one or two things differently, maybe I wouldn’t have lost the opportunity to have my father walk me down the aisle. As I sat in the ICU on the day he died, I knew it was my fault we’d never share that moment. And there was nothing I could do to change it.

Maybe I’m not trying hard enough. Sure, I’m on a dating site, but yesterday I got a FIRST message from a guy and all it said was, “do you want to see my penis?” (Hard pass – pun not intended)

And then while I’m trying not to try too hard because it’s supposed to be easy with the right person, there’s all the advice I get that is well meaning but unhelpful:

you slept with him too quickly

you didn’t sleep with him soon enough and he thought you didn’t like him so he moved on

you’re too picky

you’re not picky enough

don’t text him first

don’t wait for him to text you

you have to wait at least 17 minutes to respond but if you wait 17 minutes and ten seconds he’s already met someone else

if he hasn’t committed after the third date, run away

you run away too fast

don’t pressure him

but if he doesn’t like you right away, he’s just not that into you

go online

online dating sucks

get a hobby

stand up for yourself

don’t be a bitch

act casual

you’re acting too casual

stop going to Chili’s!

ad nauseum….

I am not writing this for “likes” or sympathy. I am writing this to say that if you also feel anxious or depressed or like you’re not good enough – know you are not alone. Know that it’s easier to post a picture of Newport Beach on Thanksgiving with the hashtag #luckiest than to admit you feel like a failure because you’re not with the guy who made you think, for at least a brief period, that things would be different, and work out. Know that if you feel in any way close to what I feel, that you can come talk to me. And bring wine.

In which we discuss total incompetence

Picture it: Newport Beach, last Saturday (I’m watching a Golden Girls marathon right now so forgive me for channeling Sophia).


You’re hanging out in a bar with your good friend when a random dude and his friend approach you. Eventually random dude tells you that he wants to take you on a date that week (as long as you’re not under 30, because he doesn’t date women under 30). Okay, cool. Sounds great.

The next day you get a “nice to meet you” text but nothing else. Okay, so maybe the date isn’t happening. No big deal. You’re slightly curious as to why he would even text you to begin with if he either 1) didn’t remember you as you suspected he wouldn’t or 2) decided thanks but no thanks. But you should probably check your curiosity at the door.

The day after THAT, at 7:15 pm, you get another text asking if you want to come over THAT night for pizza and a movie. For a first date. At a total stranger’s apartment. Yeah, that sounds like a plan, broseph. So, you decide to just not even dignify that question with a response by literally not responding.

Two days later, you get another text from random dude asking why he didn’t hear from you and you’re all, “because that is NOT the way to ask someone out on a date,” all up on your soapbox of Please Put in the Slightest Modicum of Effort, I’m Begging You.

Random dude tries again and you agree to go out the next night. He’ll call you when he’s done golfing. Except that no, no he won’t. Which brings me to my original question of what was even the point of the FIRST text. Just don’t text me.

So you find yourself sitting there waiting for your phone to ring and then realize that you don’t want to be in THAT PLACE, so you just block him and move on (to write a fictitious blog about this hypothetical situation).

In which we discuss not dating

I realize that I haven’t updated this blog in a while, but it’s hard to blog about dating when you’re actively NOT dating. Pretty sure no one in interested in reading about my new pure barre obsession or my Friends marathons on Netflix.

My last date was in December, I think, because I’m not counting what happened after Stage 5 and before I decided dating and I were on a break because even I have a threshold of WTF that I won’t post here because it’s just too bizarre. Suffice it to say that if you establish that you are just friends with someone you should REALLY STICK TO THAT UNLESS YOU ARE BOTH SURE lest you end up with an awkward email begging for

It’s interesting when your focus changes. I have a pair of jeans that I haven’t been able to fit into since 2011 that I’m determined to zip in the next couple months. I’m going to Hawaii later this month. Actively not dating means a 10000% reduction in stress in your life. Who knows how long it will last, but this is my attitude moving forward:






In which we discuss stage 5 clingers

…disclaimer brought to you by Phoebe Buffay – “now I can’t stress this point too strongly…this story isn’t real”:

You have a friend. Your friend is not so good at the dating. It seems her only options are, “beating heart ripped out of chest” or “running away from stage 5 clingers.”

But, she’s been Mopey McMoperson for a fucking year over a douchelord who is an emotional sadist, so you tell her to get back out there and try her luck, because the path to ever lasting love does not involve watching Netflix at 4 am.

So, she gets online. Right away, she is matched with a guy who seems polite and normal. Their first date consists of beers at a sports bar.

Her date is nice but seems overly enthused. Which she is not used to, really, so she thinks it is weird he’s overly affectionate, like how when he gets up to go to the bathroom less than 45 minutes into the date kisses her as he gets up from the table.

But, as we’ve already determined, your friend is inept, so maybe that’s normal? She’s not sure. It’s also weird that he seems so gung ho over her when he hasn’t asked her many questions about herself, so maybe he’d just be that excited over a plant. Who knows.

At the end of the date, Mr. Seemingly-Normal-Until-the-Other-Shoe-Drops-But-We’ll-Get-to-That asks her to go home with him but she politely declines because it’s not like they were dry humping at the table and she gave him any indication that the evening was headed in that direction.

But they DO plan a second date, and he tells her that he will make her dinner at his place which in RETROSPECT was not a good idea.

As date number two approaches, your friend begins to get more nervous, as is par for the course with her, because she scares easily when people genuinely like her. But, she goes and tries to have a positive attitude but in the millisecond that she sees him when he comes to retrieve her from the parking lot she’s all, “yeah, no” and then spends most of the date pretty much like this:

Now, it is important to mention that she wanted to be honest with this guy so told him that she wasn’t sure what she was looking for but that she was still struggling with feelings for her ex because I guess it is easier to be honest when you have nothing invested and maybe being honest up front is the better way to go. But HIS response was something along the lines of, “well, I am ready to commit to you exclusively right now…or we can just have sex.” Pause for reaction.

Now, at this point she’s regretting that they aren’t in public so she can’t just peace the fuck out and at some point must have agreed that they could still hang out and see what happens because when she gets home (two hours later, which seemed like at least eight) he has texted her to tell her that she is going to LOVE what he is planning and where he is taking her later on in the week. She is confused – she thought she meant hanging out in a causal sense like hanging out without expectations or whatnot and he’s in a completely different chapter planning surprise dates that she is not comfortable with.

So, the next day she decides to rip off the band-aid and just tell him that she can’t see him anymore. She sends this via text because that is allowed after only two dates and no exchange of last names, correct?

He doesn’t immediately respond, so she feels like she is in the clear and is relieved. Just disappearing without explanation is kind of shitty and as much as it sucks, even over text, to tell someone you don’t want to see them anymore, she felt like she did the right thing.

But nope – spoke too soon. The responses start coming in. First a text: why, what’s up? Followed by another one: I was really hoping you wouldn’t tell me this over text. Followed by a phone call. Immediately followed by another phone call AND voice mail. (And that, my friends, is an A+ in How to Get Blocked 101)

Which okay – come on, dude. Really? First of all, I cannot tell you how many dudes have disappeared on me (I mean YOUR FRIEND) after we’d (they’d) been through more than two dates, second of all this all seems a little excessive considering she was upfront about her feelings and third of all, there are surely people reading this who feel like in the below GIF your friend is clearly Rachel and they are everyone else and this depicts them trying to get her to make reasonably logical decisions in general when it comes to dating (like maybe don’t go to a dude’s apartment on the second date because it might unleash the Stage 5).



And your friend is all

ANYWAY. This entirely made up story is just another in the endless “dating sucks” stories we see on a daily basis. Fun times.

An open letter to cell phone companies (not to be taken TOO seriously)

Dear All Phone Companies,

This was originally going to be an open letter to T-Mobile until I realized this completely hypothetical scenario that has nothing to do with my current situation also involves AT&T, so maybe this is an every phone company type of request, but I digress.

It is a known fact among my friends that after a certain hour and/or number of glasses of wine, I should not be allowed to text certain people. It is also a known fact that sometimes I do stupid shit, I mean, HELLO, the name of this blog says it all.

Anyhoo. Smartphones now have features that allow people to block certain phone numbers. Sometimes, it’s easy to do. For example, the guy you went on one date with who you told more than once, “thanks but no thanks”, but he keeps texting you and you’re all, “Maybe Espanol would be more clear” but blocking is just easier and you can just do it and not even give it a second thought.

Other times though – not as easy. You find yourself forced to block someone because you are knocked on your ass in love with them, while you are their placeholder, and after what you thought was a breakthrough evening of amazingness they break up with you over text three days later and your friend is all maybe you should block him because I mean, really:

Then, because knowledge is power but not really, you decide that you want to know what happens if you block someone and then they try to text you. So, while discussing this over drinks, you block your very nice willing-to-humor-you friend, have her text you, and then unblock her. On her end, it appears the text goes through. On your end, you don’t receive it, so then you unblock her and immediately the text she tried to send you comes through. And you react to that brilliant plan:

So then you’re all, WHY DID I DO THAT? And by “that” of course I mean take the time to learn the intricacies of blocking/unblocking people in your phone. And this, phone companies, leads me to question number one.


This ability to unblock people – can you get rid of it? Once you block a person, can’t it be permanent so you don’t in your mind fabricate texts begging for your forgiveness that never actually happened but if there was no unblock option you’d never know this vs. caving and seeing a whopping two texts over the span of two months (side note: WTF). And then you hop back on the dating merry-go-round for another ride on the “this is the best and worst thing ever at the same goddamn time” horse and none of this would be an issue if blocks could be permanent! Screw will power!

This leads me to my second question/issue, and that is with factory resets. What if you had to do one over the weekend, and low and behold, these also remove all blocks because it wipes the phone so when you blocked this person for a second time after feeling emotionally abandoned in a Hooters parking lot, not only does it unblock them FOR you, but any attempted texts just flitter off to wherever these texts go. No, seriously. Where do they go? Because now not only did you lose the opportunity to see the maybe fictitious maybe not text(s) by unblocking him right before the reset, but now you have NO IDEA what he has attempted to text you, if anything, and when you had the choice to not know that was one thing, but it is QUITE ANOTHER to lose that power against your will because for some reason your Galaxy S5 decided to just not work and a reset was your only option.

Which leads me to my third and final issue. If you happened to text this now unblocked person and then realized not only that you didn’t know if you just responded to something like, “I hate you, never text me again,” with, “isn’t Jay Cutler the WORST?” but that apparently you haven’t hit your threshold for torture because you decide it would be a good idea to download a recent phone bill and see if blocked numbers still show up as incoming texts. Fun fact. They do. So now you decide that you’re done because you don’t want to count how many times he tried to text you and you wouldn’t be able to see the content anyways AND he didn’t respond to your lame attempt at starting a conversation because on Sunday you really just MISSED him and when your friend tells you to try and not go to the bad place of worst case scenarios, you’re all:

So this was just a REALLY long-winded way of asking for three things, phone companies of America:

1) For blocks to be permanent

2) For factory resets to somehow keep blocks intact (I mean, we’ve sent people to space, this can’t be harder than that)

3) For blocked incoming texts to NOT show up on phone bills because REALLY??? It technically wasn’t incoming if I never saw it. And furthermore if I didn’t have unlimited texting, would I have to pay for that? Does this even make sense?

Thanks for your consideration.



In which Miley Cyrus makes me sad

…But not for the reasons you think (which I am assuming would be the reason below):

This gem of a performance at the VMA’s happened on my last night in Chicago. My friend K, who came with me on the road trip to Cali, and I, sat at our friend’s apartment, watching for the anticipated and sorely disappointing 15-second ‘N Sync reunion.

Anyway. The next day, K and I embarked on the road trip that would bring me to my new home, Orange County. We got here on a Friday. Monday was Labor Day. I dropped her off at LAX for her flight home and then went home and took a nap before my date with Bachelor #1. And thinking about all of this makes me sad, and Miley Cyrus is an instant trigger to all of this.

I moved out here for my job, which I completely love. What I do NOT love is how badly I misjudged the situations with Bachelor’s 1 and 3, and how I came on this journey not expecting to meet anyone because I was essentially moving to a big suburb and in the matter of a very short time had my hands full in a way I could not handle.

What I do not love is the constant frustration I feel that B1 is back with his ex, B3 dropped off the face of the planet, my new crush, C, has no interest in me, and I feel generally like a troll surrounded by happy couples. It’s not that I can’t be happy being single, it’s that this triple middle finger I’ve gotten in 2014 is slightly demoralizing. And triggered by Miley Cyrus.

A sort of not really review: The Between Boyfriends Book

Cindy Chupack was a writer on Sex and the City, and wrote a book (published in 2004) that Susan insisted that I read: The Between Boyfriends Book: A Collection of Cautiously Hopeful Essays.

I started reading this earlier today and this shit is hilarious. For example, Chapter One’s title: Lone Rangered. The definition of course is “to have had a relationship end in a mysterious annoying way – with no good-bye, no answers, just the vague feeling that you have no idea who that man was.” And I will also throw in an addendum to that ….”and you wonder if you made the whole thing up in your head and since there is no photographic evidence that you dated, maybe your friends think you made him up too, and oh GOD how many of your past relationships lack any sort of photographic evidence and what is going ON?” Not that this applies to my current situation or anything.

She talks about Sexual Sorbet and how “you don’t want your ex to be the last guy you slept with. You need to put some distance between the two of you, and five to seven inches ought to do it.” She recommends using an old fling and then I realize … was I B3’s proverbial sorbet that he needed to get over the ex-future Mrs. B3 even though I thought it could be more even though yes I know he TOLD me he didn’t want anything serious but sometimes did confusing things that made me think he was my boyfriend because my bar for comparison had been set so low because it took me five years to figure out that John Doe was left handed because we never did things together that required him to write or sign a credit card slip for the dysfunctional love of GOD what is wrong with me?

There’s a relationship equivalency exam for both men and women. Let me take mine here:

1) English: When you say, “I’m not in a rush to get married,” define rush.

Answer: So, bringing saved photos of rings I like to the first date is bad, right?

2) Math: Is the amount of minutes it takes you to evaluate a date as a potential husband more than or equal to the amount of minutes it takes you to identify and ignore red flags?

Answer: What?

3) Psychology: Other than abject fear, what are some possible reactions to the words, “I need space?”

Answer: I need wine?

Questions 4 & 5 are essentially about cohabitation and therefore I am not qualified to answer so I guess if this were a pass/fail type of format I’d fail, because is incomplete an option?

She defines Halloweenies as dudes who will break up with you on Halloween so they don’t have to go through the holiday season with you and if you don’t break up on or before October 31st you are basically obligated to stick it out through New Years because what kind of rat bastard breaks up with someone over the holidays? (Lots, I am sure, for both sexes)

She talks about the dreaded “f” word – friends, which B3 used a lot in the same sentences he would talk about our dates, and when he initially offered to be my friend, I was all “sure” and look where that got me, and Chupack wrote something that hit way too close to home, which is that you basically have to accept the offer of friendship because if you don’t, it’s essentially giving them the satisfaction of knowing it’s too hard to be around them, and this is satisfaction on top of the ego boost from them already rejecting you, so even though deep down all the way to your bone marrow you KNOW that you should tell them to take a flying leap, when faced with the offer of friendship, you inevitably have to accept. And then when you, say, spend six hours watching football and having a blast, you wonder why you can have so much fun, yet they still don’t want to date you?

This brings me to Chapter 30: DO NOT RESUSCITATE ROMANCE (DNRR) ORDER. Which is exactly what it sounds like, which is why Susan told me to read this, because I have broken this rule now four or five times with Mr. Man. It’s my exact situation in print – knowing we had no future but continuing to date him and then becoming upset when the no future thing never changed (and never will). It’s time for me to regain my focus and get back to my “Hey Baby” weight and by the way this book is hilarious and everyone should read it.