Kim Kardashian’s face is a masterful work of art. Her cheekbones are always high and tight and the way the light plays off the ridges is mesmerizing. I realize that it is insane to want to look like a celebrity that has a retinue of makeup artists and humans to blot her every shiny spot away, but hey, we all have unattainable goals. Thanks to the magic of the Internet, and the brilliant minds of hundreds of YouTube beauty vloggers, Kim’s magic look can be mine. Supposedly. Keep reading »
My best friend went on a date with a man who seemed fine at first — they sat at a neighborhood bar and talked for hours. They went on a second date, but this time, the dude tried every trick in the book to get her to come to his place and have sex. She refused his offer, and tried to leave it be, but three days later, when she was visiting me from out of town, she showed me the text he sent, asking her in a very straightforward manner whether or not she was interested, or if her lack of communication was the hint that he needed.
“You have two options here,” I told her. “Write back with a one word answer, or just don’t respond.”
“I have to say something,” she said. “I can’t just ignore this.”
“Just ghost on him, dude,” I told her. “It’s easy.”
When is it appropriate to ghost? Some may say never, that each person deserves the courtesy of hearing directly that you’re not interested in them, but please, take a moment to think about how many times you’ve been ghosted, specifically how sometimes it was fine and sometimes it wasn’t. It goes both ways. Here are some common dating situations in which it’s perfectly fine to ghost. Keep reading »
Nobody handles The Talk very well. Usually, it’s a stilted affair, capable of rendering even the most confidently grown to their pre-teen self, stuttering and drawing circles in the condensation left by their wineglass, assiduously avoiding eye contact. Defining the relationship, or DTR, if you’re of the ilk that favors cutesy acronyms, is a necessary evil, but something that not a single soul is very good at. The nature of modern dating is such that the traditional markers of what make a relationship real change every day and it can seem like there’s a decided lack of stability. It’s not as easy as getting someone’s letterman jacket and walking down Main Street to the soda fountain anymore. The way we date now easily lends itself to shirking real commitment. First dates in the traditional sense are replaced by weird group outings in which you attempt to get to know someone you made goopy eyes with at a bar while surrounded by a buffer three people deep, including his friends from college and that dude at work, Josh. It’s a honest miracle that anyone even makes it to The Talk, because the obstacle course that stands between you and a relationship is harrowing.
The fun doesn’t end once you’ve actually sat down and faced the person of your intent, with all your emotions out on the table. The kind of relationship you can neatly explain to your mom in a hastily composed text message is a thing of the past. It makes sense that the end result of a nebulous and frankly, confusing wooing process, is also difficult to pin down. With that in mind, here are some possible results of the dreaded Talk. Keep reading »
I got into an debate with my friend the other day about a topic that I never thought I’d have to discuss — photoshopping your online dating profile picture. She’s a recent adopter of OKCupid, and is what I would consider a power user, actively pursuing suitors, sending messages and going on countless dates, that swing wildly between enthralling and depressing.
“You know,” she told me one day over Gchat, “I Photoshop my profile picture.” She seemed unfazed by this admission, and took my shock and awe in stride.
“Isn’t that … dishonest? Isn’t that defeating the point?!” I asked.
“Eh … not really,” she wrote back. “Isn’t everybody lying, anyway?” Keep reading »
Like that troublesome ex-boyfriend that you sleep with once a year, just in the summer when it’s steamy out and you’re peak tan, “True Blood” is back for its final season, and things sure look interesting! The series has had its peaks and valleys, but as of late has grown into an unwieldy beast, plucking storylines out of thin air and weaving them together with dental floss, spit and gumption. This season looks to make a return to its roots, with a good, old-fashioned showdown between good and evil.
If you can’t remember what happened in season six, here’s a brief recap: Terry died. Luna died. The terrible governor of Louisiana died, but not before he made an underground vampire concentration camp where he was performing medical tests and torture on vampires. The world’s supply of TruBlood has been infected with Hepatitis V, a horrible disease that causes vampires to die a slow, melty, gooey death. Sookie met Warlow , the bad vampire/faerie that killed her family, fell in love with him, almost married him, and then realized that he was shitty after all, so Jason killed him. Bill became a new super-vampire, drinking the essence of Lilith, and actually isn’t that bad anymore. And the last time we saw Eric, he was nude and on fire on a glacier in Sweden. Check out our hopes and dreams for the citizens of Bon Temps, after the jump, and don’t forget to watch the season premiere tonight on HBO! Keep reading »
I was sitting with a couple of smart women that I respect when the subject of dating came up, as it tends to do. “I read The Rules, and it changed my life,” one friend told me, in complete earnestness. “I swear by The Rules. They really work.”
I was taken aback, and for good reason. I’m a generation behind The Rules’ target demo. Twenty years ago, when this book was first published, I was in middle school, when “dating” meant writing about someone in your dream journal and holding hands. As my dating life developed, any mention of The Rules felt laughable, like an ancient relic from a never-seen “Sex And The City” episode, something the girls would discuss over cosmos at Buddakan.
“Aren’t they old-fashioned and sexist, and you know, stupid?” I asked. My other friend interjected. “Seriously, they’re great,” she said. “Trust me.” Keep reading »
There comes a time in everybody’s dating career when your dance card suddenly becomes fuller than you know what to do with. One day, you’re swiping sullenly through Tinder bemoaning the lack of attractive, normal-seeming men that are possibly as tall as they say they are in their profiles, and the next, you find yourself drafting a spreadsheet to keep track of the nine dates that you have somehow booked for one week. Dating karma is like that. Like all things in life, your dating life will ebb and flow. Years of Sahara-like drought will give way to a summer full of eternal possibility, teeming with tapas dates and dinner dates and beach dates galore. One day, you’ll wake up in a daze, and find yourself with a bucket full of eligible, decent, good dudes, all clamoring for your attention.
“How could I possibly date two people, or even three people, when handling one person was too much?” you ask yourself as you scroll thru your texts one lazy Sunday. “How could it be that the universe is handing me such a Herculean task?”
Keep this in mind, dear reader. This embarrassment of riches is your prize for enduring countless shitty dates and rebuffing the advances of grody bros in I-banker loafers who are too drunk to see straight while you’re waiting in line for the bathroom. If you ever, ever feel bad about dating more than one person, remind yourself that if you were a dude, this behavior would be second nature. This is unfamiliar territory, and it is perfectly natural to have questions. Let me assuage your concerns. Here are a few tips and tricks for juggling two people — or more! — at once. Keep reading »
I am the only person in my friend group not in a relationship, a swinging single floating in the midst of the happily coupled. Nights out are often curtailed early. Someone’s boyfriend is tired, someone else’s boyfriend has the stomach flu. One couple stayed out too late and now has to go home to rest their eyes and watch DVR’ed episodes of “Orphan Black,” together, natch.
Hanging out with couples used to make me uncomfortable. I never knew what to do when their tiny domestic disputes were laid bare in front of me at the bar. One of the most uncomfortable brunches I have ever encountered was before Christmas, with my best friend and his boyfriend. I pushed a pile of Eggs Benedict around my plate as they exchanged carefully shrouded barbs about present exchanges and quality time before the holidays. I left them standing quietly on the street in front of the restaurant, speaking in hushed tones about what to do next. Keep reading »