Category Archives: relationships

WORST DATES EVER.

Nov

2011

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!

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Blind Dates (Apparently Still Exist).

Oct

2011

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.)

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Job offers.

Aug

2011

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?

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Will & Kate & Apocalypstick

Jun

2011

You guys. YOU GUYS. I cannot get over this Will & Kate thing, I really can’t. I am like, mourning their wedding. I want it to happen again. It should be a series. Each episode they have a different wedding and at each one Elton John sings a different version of “Candle In The Wind.” I love it all. Except Pippa, I don’t really get Pippa. Is she going to be a thing now? Can we not? She’s not as plain as Kate but not in a cute way, so what am I supposed to do with her? Kate’s plainness is her appeal. Pippa’s is her downfall. Who am I talking to?

I said in the past that I want to marry a prince, but really what I want is attention and security and money and a pretty dress and a big wedding and a catch of a husband BUT THERE’S NO POINT BECAUSE THEY ALREADY HAD THE BEST WEDDING EVER SO I’M JUST GOING TO GIVE UP. They WON at weddings. Minus ten points for The King’s Speech rendition of Kate’s Jolie brother-like brother’s reading but he was probably super nervous. I know I would be. Just kidding, I would be so drunk it would be awesome. I’d be like, “lol Posh Spice why are you here?” And I would actually say “L-O-L” instead of laughing, because I Am Internet.

What is wrong with me? Why am I so fascinated with someone else’s wedding? WHY AM I EXCITED FOR THEIR FUTURE TOGETHER? WHY DO I WANT TO RELIEVE THEIR SPECIAL DAY? At least I have that Lifetime movie about them. Or I did, until I moved. You can’t take your DVR records with you. My life is really hard, guys. I panicked when I thought I didn’t get OWN here. Turns out, it is here. But it’s just not enough.

Does anyone else feel this way? Or am I totally royally bonkers?

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Public Displays of Affected.

May

2011

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

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I FOUND MY KEYS.

May

2011

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!

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Worst. Feminist. Ever.

Apr

2011

This Royal Wedding frenzy has me thinking I would very much like to marry a prince right now. How fucking easy. What an awesome life you have when your biggest obstacle is that you’re too tired to go to another charity ball? Sometimes I just don’t want to work (but who doesn’t, right?). I want to be adored and appreciated. I just want to stand there in a chanel suit and wave. And not even wave strenously.

I’m probably not supposed to admit this. But damn, I would really like someone to swoop in and take care of me right now. Someone to love me with reckless abandon. Someone who protects me and then announces to the world that I am theirs. Look. I love my life and I love writing and everything I do. But if a prince came up to me right now — hell, I’ll settle for a rich producer — with a gigantic ring I would take it and then immediately pose for the cover of People Magazine. I should not want this, right? I should want satisfaction to come from me. From my actions, my success. And yet…fuck. That. Shit.

Thus, I am the worst feminist ever. But goddamn, between my job and a Kennedy…I’m sorry. I am choosing the Kennedy. Oh, in this scenario my job is working in Ralph Lauren, which is what Carolyn Bessett did when he met her. So yeah, that’s not really a toss-up. (Unless you really like your job in retail! That’s ok! I’m not trying to hate on anyones’ life choices!)

I realize how fucking terrible that is. But I just want someone to point a finger at me and say, “YOU are FUCKING GREAT.” Like an Uncle Sam poster, but instead of Uncle Sam, it’s Jon Hamm. Why can’t it be you, Apocalypstick? Why can’t it be you pointing at yourself in a mirror? I don’t know, Grandmother Willow. I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S AROUND THE RIVERBEND.

Can I still be a feminist if I really just want to marry a prince and peace the fuck out? If I want to do that, isn’t that my choice, and isn’t that just as valid as any choice a woman makes in her life? Or am I just the little girl who wanted to be a princess who never grew out of it (I’M LOOKING AT YOU, ARIEL AND BELLE. BUT NOT YOU, SNOW WHITE, YOUR MOVIE SCARED ME. I WILL NEVER LOOK AT YOU AGAIN)? JFK Jr. was the closest thing we had to royalty, maybe this is why we’re going batshit for Wills & Kate. Who is American royalty to us now? Jon Hamm? Who would be the big “catch”? You are, Apocalypstick. You are! No, shut up. I am no one. I am a girl with a blog who wants to be a Princess. That ain’t right.