I’m going to say something as a feminist ladyblogger that I suspect I’m not supposed to say: Why You’re Not Married … Yet: The Straight Talk You Need To Get The Relationship You Deserve, by Tracy McMillan, actually isn’t a terrible book.
Oh, it has some problematic aspects — and I’ll get to those. But generally what’s wrong with books like Why You’re Not Married … Yet or 2009′s Marry Him! The Case For Settling For Mr. Good Enough, by Lori Gottlieb, isn’t the actual content. I’ve read a decent number of self-help books, both for professional reasons (to write about them on The Frisky) and for personal reasons (to find out why am I such an idiot when it comes to boys), and I even read that godawful Steve Harvey book Act Like A Lady, Think Like A Man because my surrogate mother gave it to me. I’m open-minded to reading them, I guess you could say. So, while Why You’re Not Married … Yet is getting bopped everywhere from Jezebel to The Good Men Project, who titled their piece “Fuck Off Tracy McMillan,” I’ve actually read the book and what’s more, I loved it and found it extremely useful. What’s wrong with Why You’re Not Married … Yet isn’t the dating advice — it’s how that dating advice is only marketed towards women. Keep reading »
Wouldn’t you feel like shit, and wouldn’t I look like a jerk, if I sat around with this huge pile of adorable kittens and was all, “Oh man, my pile of adorable kittens is so great, I can’t get over how wonderful this pile of adorable kittens is, how can you not have a pile of adorable kittens like my awesome pile of adorable kittens and think you will ever be happy the way that I am with this pile of adorable kittens!?”
Because sure, kittens seem great and all, but maybe your landlord won’t let you have a cat, or you can’t afford one right now, or you are allergic and have to find a special hypoallergenic one or you don’t really want to scoop cat shit every day or maybe you are just more of a dog person. There are all kinds of reasons to not have a pile of adorable kittens, adorable as they may be.
Now, pretend we’re talking about marriage and single women instead of piles of adorable kittens. (But if you want, you can still check out some piles of kittens.) Keep reading »
Miley Cyrus, pop star and heir to the “Achy, Breaky Heart” fortune, has announced that, at 19 years old, she’s engaged to marry her boyfriend of three years, actor Liam Hemsworth. I have this to say: Don’t do it, girl!
And when I Googled “Liam Hemsworth” to find out who the hell this dude is, the first result was his official website, and the blurb excerpted is … an interview with Miley Cyrus. Friend, if you are 22-years-old and your professional career is already defined by your romantic relationship according to the seminal information provider of the whole internet, I feel obligated to pass along a ‘Don’t do it, girl!’ to you, too. (Jessica’s Note: He was also in “The Hunger Games.” I’m surprised you hadn’t heard of him!)
Now, I know that trying to dissuade smitten young people from making bad romantic decisions is an exercise in futility. Miley Cyrus is gonna marry this dude. It will happen. And maybe, just maybe, she will not be a twentysomething divorcee. Miley Cyrus, I hope you are not a twentysomething divorcee! I want your marriage to Liam Hemsworth to work out. I want you to be the happiest, most forever-married person in the world.
But if Miley Cyrus asked me — and she definitely did not — I would discourage her from getting married at 19. If any 19-year-old in the world asked me, I would discourage that person from getting married. Keep reading »
If you are currently in the process of planning an elaborate and public marriage proposal to your intended, please consider not doing that, not doing that even for a minute, and instead consider just stopping everything you had planned and not ever doing that, and even if you still want to do it a little bit, I beg you, don’t ever do it.
Elaborate public marriage proposals are rude and awkward. They’re presumptuous in the worst ways. They’re intrusive. They’re manipulative—and not just toward the proposer’s intended. Keep reading »
Patrick and I totally got married because our friends were doing it. We didn’t do it only because our friends were doing it, or because our friends were going to stop sitting next to us in the lunchroom if we didn’t do it. But I’m pleased as punch to say that when it comes to marriage, we had some fine peer-couple role models to look to.
Call it “peer pressure” if you want. We watched happy people around us get happier when they found forever partners and married them. We wanted to emulate them because we believed we had the reasonable tools to be able to do so: love, respect, shared values and life goals. I feel strongly that if I had had a lot of negative marital role models in my life, I’d have been far more circumspect in my approach to marriage. It’s only reasonable to use the information you have to make decisions about what you’d like to do with your life. Keep reading »
“So, should I be calling you something different now?”
The bartender at my local bar walked hurriedly over to my table last week as I sat with my 5 p.m. Hefeweizen, wrapping up the day’s work on my laptop. He looked genuinely worried that, when I’d walked into the bar, he’d somehow offended me by calling me what most of my favorite bartenders over the years have ended up calling me, which is: “Mizz Grimes!”
I don’t know why they’ve all tended to pick up “Mizz Grimes,” but they have, and I love it. It makes me feel fancy and Southern, and there’s something about the way Texas bartenders say “Graiihhhhmmmz” as they’re grabbing a Lone Star or a High Life out of the cooler that just sounds right.
It was the first time someone who didn’t know me well, but who did know that I’d gotten married last month, had asked me about changing my name. Keep reading »