This isn’t me and my boyfriend but you can totally pretend it is, I’m fine with that.

Google+ is great for posting stuff that you’re too embarrassed to post on twitter and facebook, since no one uses it. What is the sound of one hand clapping? Google+. Where do good statuses go to die? Google+. Where’s the best place to hide a dead body? Google+. And so forth.

So who would have ever thought that Google+ would help me find my boyfriend? Most people don’t even know what Google+ is. I explain that it’s like Facebook if no one used Facebook. You connect with people, post statuses, and you would use it to procrastinate if it weren’t so horribly boring.

But that’s not important right now.

My friend posted a status of a ridiculous iphone cover that looked like real sushi. I wrote about it on Hello Giggles, but that’s not what this story is about. And now I’m hungry. Why does everything bad happen to me? Anyway. He posted this photo of this sushi phone and I commented on how awesome it was and then found other awesome things on that website and posted those on his Google…circle…wall…whatever, as well.

Then a message from someone else popped up. Because Google+ is as dead as any graveyard, the bones of interactions past still remain. Here is exactly what I saw:

“Is this the Almie that went to Emerson for a little while back in ’03? I think I may know you.”

Rather than say something like, “No you must be thinking of another Almie who went to Emerson in ’03″ I decided not to be a sarcastic jerk for once and responded that yes, it is the same Almie:

“You’l [sic] have to forgive me, my time at Emerson is a blur. Did we have the same classes or something?

 Fucking suave, Uncle Almie.

I want to add that my time at Emerson was very brief and very blurry. I was going through a serious depression at the time. We’re talking Kirsten Dunst, can’t bathe for herself, “It tastes like ashes” Melancholia depressed. I was there for one semester. I did manage to be pretty involved in the community. I auditioned for and got one of the two newscaster roles for the SNL Weekend Update type show EVVY Update to be aired on the Emerson school channel. We would report on what students were doing for the EVVYs which was some kind of student run award show for students and I don’t remember what EVVYs stand for or what we actually did but I do remember that Chloe’s dad was kind enough to film a “Congrats to the EVVY winners!” clip for the show, that I’m wondering if they ever used, and Chloe’s dad has a secret bathroom in his office, where the bathroom door looks like a wall and you don’t know it’s a door until he presses it in and then you’re like, “Holy shit, Chloe’s dad is Batman.”

But that’s not important right now.

I also managed to get on the writing staff of the comedy magazine. It was here that I met my friend Dave Horwitz — but I don’t remember us being friends at all. Years later we connected back in LA (via MySpace, MY LIFE IS THE INTERNET) and he told me, “Don’t you remember me? We were on the comedy magazine together.”

I blinked.

“…We sat next to each other every week.”

Blink.

“I saw you doodling pigs wearing top hats.”

“Oh yeah!! I remember those!”

My point is, I sat next to this guy every week for months and I didn’t remember him at all. This is important to the story. The story of how I met my boyfriend on Google+ not how I met Dave Horwitz on MySpace. That’s a good story too, but I kind of just told it. Oops.

So. My future boyfriend just told me that he remembered me from Emerson and I told him, basically, “Who the fuck are you?” ["Did we have classes together?"] He said:

“I don’t think so, actually. I think it was even vaguer than that. Like we were both commuter students and met at a commuter event or something maybe…”

I wasn’t a commuter student. Like, not even close. I decided it was time to kick this shit into full gear. It was time to take this to Facebook.

I contacted him on facebook and we exchanged flirty messages back and forth, the kind where I would be giddy to see that little “1″ in my inbox and I would ask my friend Katie, “How should I respond??” and she would say something and I would ignore it and then do whatever I wanted.

So we arranged to meet. We met at a trendy wine bar on the border of Los Feliz/Silver Lake/Narnia where the bartenders had old timey barbershop quartet mustaches and the patrons were loud and recorded themselves having fun on their iphones. We had a wonderful first date, and I will tell this story at some point, if anyone cares.

A few dates later, he confessed that we had indeed met before. We’ve since determined that it was likely outside a showing of “Lost In Translation” near my dorm. Apparently, we stopped to chat and we even exchanged numbers. And I don’t remember this. By the time he called me, I had already dropped out and moved back to LA, which I told him on a message I left him. And again, I don’t remember any of this. But through the magic of the internet, we found each other again.

Aw you guys, right??

So without Google+ I never would have (re?) met this great guy. Thus, I can never leave Google+. I will go down with this ship.

How did you meet your sig other? Do you believe in fate?

Boom.

See that guy back there? That’s a red flag.Those posters? Red flag. My friend Sara? Not a red flag.

Someone, I think it was a gentleman named Robin, wanted to know if I could write about spotting those elusive red flags that eventually destroy a relationship.

Some of these are obvious to everyone but you. Like maybe your new boyfriends eats live lizards and calls everyone “Mommy.” That’s a red flag. Sometimes you notice this behavior but you justify it. “Lizards have LOTS of protein you guys.” Suuuure.

Let’s talk about the subtle ones.

Is your new partner forthcoming with you? When you ask them about their job history or their family, do they suddenly get quiet and stare off into the distance and say, “Sometimes the lone star is the one that shines brightest.”? Or maybe they’ll say something like, “Yeah I did stuff and my family exists.” Both of those answers suck. You don’t need their work resume or their family tree, but something like, “I used to work in fashion and have a brother named Jeff and my parents are dead” is just fine.

Do they freak out if you ask to use their computer or phone? Some people don’t like other people to touch their things, fine. But do they try to hide these objects from you? When you’re out in public and their phone rings, do they give it a worried look and then when you ask them, “What’s wrong?” they say, “Oh nothing, it’s just my parents” and you’re like, “Your parents are dead” and they’re like, “Yeah, iPhones suck, right?” What is it that they don’t want you to see? If it’s their laptop it’s probably porn, and that’s okay. Just because someone looks at porn doesn’t mean that they don’t love you or don’t want to be with you. It’s nothing to freak out about, unless it gets to the point where it interferes with your daily routine lives.

They mention their ex constantly. If you ask them about their last relationship, you’re going to want to hear something like, “My last relationship was a year ago. Great guy, no bitterness, it just didn’t work out because of long distance/wanting different things/they got really ugly” or whatever. What you don’t want to hear is this story when you didn’t even ask. What you don’t want to hear is, “Hey, what do you want on your pizza?” and the response is, “My ex Rachel loved pepperoni so no pepperoni because Rachel would eat it all the time and I don’t like Rachel, I mean pepperoni.” If they mention their ex more than, say, 3 times in your first week of dating, they’re probably not ready to date.

They ask to borrow money/things and never pay them/give them back. People forget, that happens. But if you gently remind them and they say you’ll get it in __ amount of days and you don’t and they never bring it up again, that is not cool. Money ruins relationships of all kinds. Maybe you guys do a thing where one of you pays for drinks and then the next time the other one does, or whatever kind of casual thing, and that’s okay. That’s very different from, “Hey babe can I borrow three hundred dollars?” and then they disappear for a month and never bring it up again. That’s spooky. Often this starts out innocently enough with, “Can you buy this gum for me, is that cool?” but it can end with, “Baby I sold your Lexus, is that cool?” It is not cool, Charles. Not cool.

They only call you late at night to “hang out.” They don’t call you to hang out during the day, or invite you to public places, or to meet their friends. Unless they are a vampire, one of those “True Blood” vampires not the “Twilight” vampires, then this basically means that they want you for sex and nothing else. Nothing is going to come from this. I’m sure you heard stories about how, “My friend Chelsea’s friend Sarah started seeing this guy Zach and his brother Franco started seeing her and it was strictly a friends with benefits thing but now they’re married and living in Milan!” No. No. Sit down. Stop giving us hope that this will ever happen. This might happen if you start out as friends. Because at least there is something to build on. But the chances of this turning into something real, of this person actually caring about you when you’re not in their apartment at 3 Am, is about 3%.

I’m sure there are plenty more. What are your red flags?

photo by me.

I asked you for your best dates, now I have your worst. I made the list a lot shorter this time, because I want you to add your own worst date story in the comments! So tell me: what’s your worst date? I posted some here that really tickled my fancy:

“He said he hadn’t showered in a week and wore a Blockbuster uniform. He worked there over 3 years before and this shirt was still in his wardrobe. Clearly he did not care about me or this date. I told him to drive me home.” — Anon

“I met him on OKCupid, and he seemed normal enough. We decided to meet for coffee at the cafe where I work. Ten minutes in, he tells me that he recently bought a fleshlight and his parents are afraid he doesn’t respect women.” — Sarah.

 ”I brought a girl home to meet my parents at Thanksgiving. She wore an all-red outfit, including elbow length red gloves and bright red lipstick, drank too many whiskey sours, then hit on my father in front of my entire family.” — Anon.

“Accidental date with this dude. It was so awful and pathetic that I 911′d the BFF. She showed up at the restaurant having a full blown anxiety attack over getting TAN HANDS from the spray-tan booth. She also ate the rest of his food. Best ending to worst date ever.” — “camahaffey”

These made me giggle stupendously. Your turn!

Friends Laura and Erik, someone’s rooftop in NYC, taken by me.

A few weeks ago, or something, I have no concept of time, I asked you to send me your BEST DATE EVER stories. And by golly, you sure did! I loved reading them. Here are some, edited for length. I got too many to fit into one post! But one great story included a first date that ended in the hospital because the guy hurt his balls.

Now I want to hear about your WORST DATES EVER. Send them to me at formspring.com/apocalypstick and try to keep them short. You can leave your name if you want to. But for now, here are the best dates ever:

Three weeks after meeting each other (while very intoxicated on his birthday) we went on a road trip from Colorado to Las Vegas. We also died half a dozen times on the way there because we were driving his dad’s Mustang convertible in the end of December at 2:30am through Utah. We had to get pulled out of a ditch by a truck and thought we were going to be murdered. 

Somehow after only hanging out about four or five times before this, we ended up becoming extremely close in three days. We had about 12 hours in Vegas. A two day trip turned into five when a freak snowstorm hit along route-66 on the way home. Not to diss Arizonans, but people on the local news in Arizona acted like they didn’t know what snow was. We spent New Years Eve 2011 at a motel in Las Vegas, New Mexico. NEW MEXICO! LV, NM – that’s a real place! It actually ended up being the best NYE I’ve ever had. We drank cheap champagne, watched Ryan Seacrest, and snuck into the motel pool.  – Lauren.

My Boyfriend and I started dating in college. Since we were both poor we made the mutual decision that Valentine’s Day was not such a big deal. 

 A few years after I had graduated on Valentine’s Day I would make the trek back to campus after work and my boyfriend would come pic me up at the train station. One  year, he surprised me by bring two of his fraternity brothers who I absolutely adored. While most girls might be annoyed by their boyfriends bring others along I was giddy. We made the decision to grab some White Castle to take back to the dorm with us.

 When we got there, we realized that White Castle was doing there Valentine’s Day promotion, where they had table side service. Clearly we HAD to partake in this. So we had a sit down dinner, complete with candles and table cloths at White Castle. Afterwards, we headed back to campus where a bunch of others joined the four of us to watch the Evil Dead Trilogy.

So really, Best. Date. Ever. – Eileen.

I once went on a date with a girl that ended with us going back to her place to start an online petition for Trident to bring back their Strawberry Breeze flavor of gum. – Tony.

I met him on OkCupid (whoops) and it was my first date after moving to New York City.  We met at a coffee shop where I spent the entire first 20 minutes of our date trying to use the bathroom but getting cut off by other patrons.

Then he took me to McSorley’s, one of his favorite “New York” places.  For me, it was pretty dreamy.  New York’s oldest Irish, no-nonsense, beers only bar?  Perfect.

We bonded over fancy hot dogs and talked sports before happening upon a flea market, which reminded him to take me to the best part of our date…a creepy antique store that specializes in taxidermy!

It was amazing.  I’m not big on purposefully weirdo dates, but it just happened we were close and it was so organic and seemed fun, why not? – Katie.

My best date was actually a first date I had with a gal I saw for a short while.

We went to go see Tilly and the Wall open for Of Montreal here in Austin. The venue had seats on the sides which we sat on and played tic-tac-toe between sets. After the awesome show ended at 2am, we went to a 24 hour, local diner. The clincher was when we went to her college radio show (it aired Satudays from 5am – 7am), and I got to guest DJ and play my favourite indie songs. Some of my friends woke up or stayed up late to listen to the show which was pretty cool. – D.

Went up in a tiny two-seater red piper cub airplane over the coast of Half Moon Bay. I did an effing barrel roll over the ocean. AMAZING. — Amber.

For my 1 month anniversary with my now fiance, my fiance had only a bit of money and was living in a dorm room at the time.

So he went to a thai food place (cause I love thai food), and bought all the chicken stuff on the menu (cause I only eat poultry and fish), and brought it back to his dorm room. When I got there he had a dresser with a sheet on it. Candles he borrowed from girls down the hall, a buffet of thai chicken dishes, and an arrowhead water jug filled with strawberry soda (my favorite) in the water dispenser. Ooh!! And Air was playing. It didn’t cost him anymore than what he payed for the food and soda…but it was the best date I’ve ever been on for sure!! – Tawnie.

My brother moved to Amsterdam at the beginning of this year and I arranged to go and stay with him for a few days. This Guy happened to be touring europe at the same time… and would also be staying in Amsterdam for 2 weeks. I figured since my brother would be working during the day, I would go and do some sightseeing with This Guy. 

Within 5 minutes of meeting, we decided to rent bikes. Obviously. It’s Amsterdam.

I had no idea where we were cycling to, but as always, he knew where he was going as he has an awesome sense of direction. He found our way to Vondelpark. We cycled around with commuters, teenagers and the woman cycling whilst her beagle ran beside her with a funny leg. 

After the park, we got take out soup and bread, cycled to a canal and found somewhere to eat by the water.

“In the throes of passion!” he shouted, and dramatically kissed me as tourists floated by on boats and took our picture, ’cause we looked fucking adorable.

After, we cycled to the Bloemenmarkt (flower market) which also happened to be in one of the most tourist-ridden areas. We took pictures of sex toys in shop windows. I searched for respectable souvenirs. We walked up and down the Red Light District, imitating the girls’ dances in the windows. 

We cycled back to his hotel, then hung out for the rest of the day.

 It was the best date because it was so abnormal. We were both in an unknown country. In one of the best cities in the world. On one of the best days of the year. Cycling. Canals. Parks. Prostitutes. — Anon.

photo taken by me of my friend Laura.

I got a special request to do a post about blind dates. I always take special requests into consideration, btw. Just email me or internet me in some other form.

Is it still politically correct to use the term “blind date”? The more I think about it the more uncomfortable it makes me.

Right, so I’ve been on one blind date in my life. And here’s the thing: in this world we now live in, with so much information on the internet about everyone, there really is no such thing as a true blind date anymore. I guarantee you that your blind date has combed through your Facebook. If your settings are very private, then they’ve found something else on the Internet about you, somewhere. The most awkward thing is when you’re on your first date and you pretend not to know what that person is telling you right at that moment because you’ve already seen it on Facebook.

So that’s the first thing, no blind date is without sight.

Ha.

Secondly, how does one handle a blind date? Remember the show “Blind Date?” If you don’t, the show was about filming people going on blind dates, complete with commentary that was hilaritrocious. I would pretend that you’re on that show. Pretend you’re being filmed and remember, you want to look good on camera. Your grandma could watch this. Don’t do anything on this date that you wouldn’t want your grandma to see. If your grandma is dead, then these rules don’t apply, because she’s always watching you anyway.

So it’s fun to pretend you’re on a TV show because it makes the whole situation just silly. Silly as a toad in a top hat.

Like all those jerks say, be yourself. If you can’t be yourself, be Faye Dunaway. Try to avoid being Kanye West. Few can pull that off. But if you’re nervous, just say you’re nervous. Don’t say it more than once (twice at most) because then you’ll make the other person nervous and/or annoyed. Because the person is probably a little nervous too. After all, you’re strangers. As children we’ve been taught to avoid them but then the Internet happened and that pretty much went out the window.

My best advice for blind dates? Show up. There is nothing crueler than standing up a blind date. At least get to know the person before you dislike them.

Have you ever been on a blind date? How did it go?

If you want some other dating tips/advice, there’s this post about running into my Facebook crush at a party and this post about the time I was stood up. (Though it was more like being blown off than stood up. Such a fine line.)

Someone on my Facebook wall pointed out, “ Isn’t it funny, how when things are happening with one guy it makes things possible with another? It’s like being offered a job when you’re already happily employed.” (Rachel M).

Yup.

Is it because you’re confident that someone likes you and things are going well that you bring about this sense of confidence that attracts other people to you?

OR is it that everyone is a big JERK and wants you when they can’t have you just to FUCK WITH YOU??

I’m listening to The Cranberrie’s “Zombie” right now, which is why I am so aggressive.

Let’s review:

People + what they can’t have = want.

Love = what people want.

Mel Gibson (does not) = what women want.

I’m not good at math so I don’t know what any of those equations mean. I tried to Beautiful Mind it, but I’m kind of Gladiatoring it. My point is, when you seem really happy, other people want to suck the happy out of you so they can have the happy too. Some people are true friends, and they don’t want to suck your happy, but everyone else needs to be side-eyed. I really believe that this is why you’re suddenly more attractive to men when you’re with a certain man. I think women do this too. You see someone with someone who isn’t you, and all of a sudden, it’s “Game on, buddy. Challenge accepted.”

Or maybe it’s just that you never realized another possibility was there and you’re in a place where you can open your eyes.

What do you think?

GUYS: If a girl thinks you’re gay, it means she thinks, “That man dresses well, has exceptional taste and style, looks like he showers, and is actually trying to talk to me instead of grabbing at my boobs.” It’s a compliment.

GIRLS: If you’re with a guy (or girl or anyone), stop getting insecure about their ex-girlfriends. They’re with you know. Sure, there’s curiosity and then there’s angst. I NEED TO GET BETTER AT THIS ONE.

EVERYONE: Can we just be kinder to each other? Being cynical is tired. Try something else.

BEN STILLER: I saw you on Broadway in “House of Blue Leaves” and you are an astonishingly good actor. Can you please cut it the fuck out with this Meet The Parent shit? Do you not have enough money at this point? Do you really need more cars? Boats? Cashmere underwear? I don’t know. Just stop it. This is why no one likes you. Stop it. Be good. Let yourself be good. I believe in you, Ben Stiller. I believe in you.

CAB DRIVER WHO DROVE LIKE THE COPS WERE CHASING US: I undertipped you on PURPOSE. THAT WAS THE SCARIEST RIDE OF MY LIFE. AND WHEN I SAID I’LL GET OUT HERE, YOU KEPT DRIVING. BETWEEN THAT AND YOUR MR. TOAD’S WILD RIDE DRIVING ABILITIES, I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE. WE ALMOST HIT 3 DIFFERENT CARS. THIS WAS NOT AN AVERAGE CAB RIDE, WHERE ONE HITS ALMOST 2 CARS. 3 IS 1 TOO MANY. 3 IS INSANE.

Bonus: Can we not wear backpacks and capris to the theater?

Ladies. If you’re out with your friends and she’s hitting it off with a dude, get over it. Don’t bust in there like Ghostbusters and adjust the situation. Don’t be Harold Ramis to our Bill Murray. I’m not even sure what that means, as I saw Ghostbusters and was kinda drifting in and out of giving a fuck. I just don’t want to spell the third guy’s name. I always mess up Dan’s last name. Too lazy to google.

It’s just rude. Girl code, you know? Once time I got cockblocked by someones’ PARENTS. That was rude as FUCK. I was talking to this dude who was leaving the next day for NYC and things were sparking and then up come these parents and started talking to him like I wasn’t even there, like I was a table or something. I wandered away and that was it. PARENTS JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND.

But if your gal pal is doing this, you need to calmly confront her. Something kind and funny while getting to the point like, “Girl I had fun last night but I was totally hitting up that guy who looked like Cary Grant with a mullet until you entered the picture. You’re so pretty and smart, you could have any guy, just give me a chance, Bieber.” If they say, “No, bitch” then you need to laugh, smile and say, “Okay” and walk away laughing. Because that’s just insane and no one should have a friend who steals boys and doesn’t even care about your feelings. I’m not saying you have “dibs” on anyone but if you’re clearly hitting it off and your jealous friend steps in and dominates the conversation, she needs to sit down and know what’s up.

That’s my PSA of the day. xxo.

I’m interested in your thoughts on public displays of affection. I moved to the UK last year and I see it everywhere (not that I mind), but it seems like much more of a taboo in North America. Why do you think that is? - Apocalypstick reader Andrew James Bond. That’s not his real last names. I gave him those. YOU’RE WELCOME, ANDREW.

I guess this is the part where I say “Americans are so much more uptight about sex than Europeans we suck blah blah” and that’s all true, though I still don’t know why this is. I guess because our movie ratings are stricter than yours and always were. Or maybe because you guys jumped on that whole bikini and then topless swimsuit thing. Or maybe you guys invented sex and we’re doing our best to imitate it. Maybe what we think of as sex is actually a really stimulating Scrabble game, and we’ve been doing it wrong all these years. But if you’re out with some friends and in front of you you see two young people making out real intense, you and your friends are probably going to look around awkwardly and think, “I don’t need to see this, I just want to ride the Matterhorn!!” or whatever, I don’t know what you do in your spare time. I go to Disneyland, that’s my choice. If anyone reading this wants to get me into Club 33, please email me. Click the “contact” button.

Here is the universal truth about PDA: we hate it unless we’re the ones doing it. (Look don’t even get up on me and say, “THAT’S NOT TRUE FOR ME.” I don’t care, okay? I can’t please everyone. Go home, little Timmy. Or whatever your name is. Darryl. I don’t know, okay? I’m just a girl with a computer.) I don’t like seeing it. I can’t explain why. Because I’m American? Because I went to an All Girls School for most of my important years of my youth? Because I watched too much Nickelodeon? I really don’t know. I want to blame Ren and Stimpy for something, and maybe this isn’t it. I’ll save them for something else, something real special, like why I’m afraid of kitty litter or veins.

But if I’m the one with an adoring someone all over me, I’m thinking, “I don’t give a fuck what you people think, I’ve waited too long to have someone like me like this, WE ARE KISSING NOW, DEAL WITH IT GOODY PROCTOR!” I just want to be loved by someone really sexy and successful, okay? Isn’t that what we all want? Who says, “I want to be loved by someone really unattractive and unsuccessful?” College kids, that’s who. Graduation day is upon us, people. Time to get your diploma and make out with someone hot.

Just not in enclosed spaces, like lines for Disneyland rides or a crowded Starbucks, okay? WE’RE NOT READY FOR THAT. NOT IN AMERICA.

Golden Slumbers (Beatles cover) – Claudine Longet

This comment on my last post, from Beat Of My Own Drum was so good I had to make a post out of it:

I hope feminists won’t hate me for an observation I’ve made. I’m all about women empowerment, after all. But I’ve observed that no matter how successful a woman gets in her career, it’s her personal relationships that she chooses to define her. It’s not true for all women, but it is for most, it seems. That’s probably why, even though we’re strong women, we wouldn’t mind being swept off our feet by a prince.

Or maybe it’s the Chanel suits and not having to work our asses off to earn enough.

Why did this never occur to me before? Is it like when you’re looking for your keys and you realize you’ve been holding them the entire time? Okay so who hasn’t known someone (celebrity or friend) by this description and this description only: _____’s girlfriend. Maybe some rockstars’ girlfriends/ex wives/whatever make their living by writing about their flings (which, shit, is pretty much what I do, fffffffuuuuuuu) and if that’s the way they wanna go, OK, you make that work like a factory. Is it just that their male partner’s fame eclipsed theirs? Let’s be real, no one was ever going to refer to JFK Jr. as “Carolyn Bessette’s husband.”

But even successful women of their own right can never dodge their relationship statuses: Marilyn Monroe AND Hillary Clinton both had trouble shaking off their man troubles, even though both women were powerful and famous. This is the one thing I really dig about Gaga right now: when she said, “Your career will never wake up and tell you it doesn’t love you anymore” she fucking meant it. We don’t hear about who Gaga’s dating (well, except for when she tried to convince us that she was bisexual; kissing your best friend at a crazy freshman NYU party DOESN’T COUNT I’M JUST SAYING). I don’t even care, come at me, if Gaga’s bisexual than I am part Batman. IT’S JUST SO FUCKING CALCULATED. EVEN MADONNA WENT THROUGH HER LESBIAN PHASE WHEN SHE NEEDED IT FOR HER CAREER. REMEMBER THE WHOLE SANDRA BERNHARD THING? WHY AM I SHOUTING? We hear about her career. And her outfits. But her career. It’s inspiring. Until she wears fake dinosaur bones in her face or whatever is going on there.

I don’t have any answers, but I now have a desire to define myself by who I am and what I do, not who I’m fucking. Or “dating.” Or “married to.” Or “divorcing.” Or “murdered.” Right???

I haven’t forgotten about my reader questions! In fact I am currently editing (with some rad people) my latest Apocalypstick video installment and this one is shot on nice cameras and with lighting that isn’t the glow of my MacBook! It looks great! We’ll probably have that done by the end of the month. I also have a new Betty Draper video to post so…you know, hold onto something, because that’s gonna knock you over. I’m also on vyou now but I don’t even know how to deal with that yet. I am drowning in Internet right now. AND I just started writing for The College Crush which is full of practical advice even if you are in high school or out of college.

Real Wild Child (Wild One) – Iggy Pop

MAD props to Robin for the gif!