Above: Laura prepping her boyfriend for a video we made for Hello Giggles, which you can watch here, but keep in mind it’s a satire about girls and their PERIODS. 

This post is brought to you by Laura Kadner. Enjoy:

Once upon a time, I lived with my boyfriend. We moved to the worst city in the world and got a tiny studio apartment. Sometimes it was awesome and sometimes it sucked. Here are some things I learned about living with a man:

 
Read more of Laura’s delightful work at her blog Gumdrop Lane or at Hello Giggles.

Trustworthy, honorable, sober, etc.

A few days ago, Max Landis shared something gross and fascinating with me. Naturally. He brought to my attention something I wasn’t aware existed and would probably be okay with never knowing existed.

I am talking about Pheromone Parties.

What is that? You may ask. Yourself. Where does that highway go to? I’m sorry, I have an affliction where I occasionally segue way into Talking Heads lyrics. But that’s not important right now. A Pheromone Party is where you go to meet someone you want to date/fall in love with/bang with a twist: BYOS — bring your own shirt. But before you bring it, you have to sleep it in for three nights in a row and then take it off and leave it sealed in a plastic bag (the longer the better). I hope I never feel like that plastic bag. Then you bring it to the party. And when that bag opens, that’s when it all goes down. To quote their website:

1. Bags are placed on a table. Guests smell the bags at their leisure throughout the party.
2. If a guest finds the smell attractive, they take a picture with the bag at a photographer station. These pictures are projected as a slide show on the wall at the party.
3. If you see a picture of a guest you find attractive holding your number, this is the greenlight to talk to them. Haaaay.

My cat Obo 

So I’m watching Whitney (yeah, so what, I watch Whitney sometimes, the parts with Whitney are funny, the part with her friends not so much) and the episode is about her wearing fake boobs and how her boyfriend reacts. The episode is also about her friends being annoying and stupid but again, the interesting part is about Whitney. So Whitney wears this bra that makes her A cup a double D. And considering that Whitney is already so thin and tall and pretty, this makes her look like even more of a model, but I don’t think we’re supposed to think that way. I think we’re supposed to see Whitney as an avergae modern day gal, like a foul mouthed Mary Tyler Moore for the twitter era.

P.S. Whitney.

So anyway Whitney now has big fake boobs and this intrigues her boyfriend. And Whitney is insulted because he says that when she wears them, it’s like he “gets to be with someone else.” Our dear heroine Whitney says something like, “Why can’t you accept me for who I am?” and “Admit it, you wish I had bigger boobs” and earlier in the episode when she first gets the bra she says, “Why does everyone hate women?” which I thought was a really great line. Her boyfriend retaliates that she wishes he were different too, like why can’t he be more like Don Draper? Because she likes Mad Men and talks about Jon Hamm a lot.

The point of the episode was, if we could change our partners, would we? Or do we like them for who they are, flawed and all? And also, do women need to have big boobs?

I’m at the point where I’m happy with my boobs, even though they’re Whitney sized. It’s all about the quest for abs anyway. I’ve heard from lots of guys (and not from me asking, just from life) that they don’t really care about the size of the boobs they just care about boobs in general. Boobs are great!

P.S. Boobs.

Anyway, using this show as an example, at what point did Whitney’s boyfriend realize, “Oh wait, my girlfriend has small boobs” and decide it wasn’t a big deal? In between the time when you started dating your sig other and the time when you became a long term item, when do you come to terms with something and accept it or decide that it needs to be changed or you’re done?

And no, this isn’t based on me or anything going on in my life. This is all Whitney.

Follow me on Instagram @apocalypstick

People love to hate on Valentine’s Day. Their favorite line: “It’s just a stupid holiday created by Hallmark.” Yeah well duh, thanks Dr. House. But think back to when you were a kid and how much fun Valentine’s Day was, unless you were Ralph Wiggum. You got a bunch of free candy and you weren’t even sure why. You gave everyone overpriced flimsy cardboard Disney or Snoopy valentines and you dropped them into the Vday themed paper bags you had taped to your desk. Or whatever. It was fun and we were young, no promises, no demands.

I’m not saying that I love this holiday but I don’t hate it. There are very few days when I can drink champagne and eat chocolate with reckless abandon and not be judged for it. This is one of those days. I never do anything particularly romantic on Valentine’s day.

On my very first Valentine’s day that I had a boyfriend, he led me to believe that he had secret plans but then revealed that he did not and perhaps I was just seeing what I wanted to see. I forced him to make plans and we managed to get a table at an awesome restaurant (I lived in NYC at the time). It was one of those restaurants that was in the meat packing district which mean that it was too cool to have an actual sign outside so we searched for it as I teetered dangerously in heels on the cobblestone streets. However, because it was so last minute, we had to eat at 5.  But that was fine, I get really hungry around then. The food was delicious and they gave us free desserts and a love themed mixed CD, which I promptly lost a few days later. We got very drunk and went back to my apartment and I complained a lot about something and we went to sleep.

The year after that Kadner came over and we drank champagne and watched “Lost” and through a turn of events that I still don’t understand I had cat whiskers drawn on my face with an eyeliner pencil.

The years after that I don’t think I did anything. My parents gave me chocolate every year and some goodies and if not for them I would be your typical Forever Aloner.

Last year my friend Max hosted a gathering of singles at a BBQ place. That was delicious. Afterwards we went to karaoke where I belted “You Oughta Know.” Also delicious.

Tonight I had the idea of cooking my boyfriend dinner but I just realized that means I actually have to cook something so I’ll probably stop at Whole Foods instead. I meant to make plans but I got busy and it slipped out of my hands and my head. So this is what we’re doing and I’m fine with it. Sure, my dream would be to have a surprise of some sorts: like maybe I’m whisked away to THE PIRATE RESTAURANT IN DISNEYLAND HOW SWEET WOULD THAT BE WHY DO I FEEL LIKE I AM THE ONLY ONE WHO THINKS THIS IS THE BEST IDEA EVER but I’m thrilled to even have someone to love on this day who isn’t related to me, so that’s enough, really.

Tell me about your romantic Vdays (or any dates) in your past.

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?