I took dance class for years as a kid. I loved being up on stage, dancing my ass off in front of an auditorium full of strangers. As an adult, I performed stand-up comedy. Loved it. Loved making a bunch of people I’d never met laugh.
But performing my latest dance routine in the living room in front of my parents? A circle of hell I didn’t like to think about, even as a kindergardener. Telling my parents about some jokes I’m working on for a stand-up show? A circle of hell that doesn’t actually exist, because it is so bad that the devil is, like, “No, seriously, Andrea, nothing you could ever do would cause you to deserve this.” Keep reading »
One of my New Year’s resolutions was to get back into the dating scene, but there’s only one problem: It has been mathematically proven that I’m terrible at it. And I finally understand why: It’s because I’m a terrible person. But that doesn’t mean I’m doomed to be awful alone, because at last, there’s a dating website for bad people to find horrible love: It’s called all of them. Every single dating website out there is absolutely filled to the brim with my kind of people: People who are not sorry, ever, about anything; people who are tired of consequences and so choose to abstain from them; people who are halfway convinced that the rest of humanity is a holographic simulation projected for their amusement. If I can’t find love slapping around somewhere in one of these virtual cesspools, well, then it’s probably everyone’s fault but mine, just like literally everything else. Read more…
You know what I’d like to see have a comeback in 2012? “Blind Date,” that ’90s dating show featuring scornful and snarky pop-up commentary. My interest in this show was revived this morning, as I watched this classic episode, featuring dating show regular, Ken Scalir. (Apparently Ken has been around the dating show block quite a few times, having not found his perfect match yet. It’s hard to understand why.) This blind date is so bad, it’s what our friend Anna of the blog Shmitten Kitten describes as “cringe-core.” In other words, enjoy! [Shmitten Kitten]
“I’ve seen circumstances with people that I know are in love with their spouse and they made one mistake and I said — this is somebody that I know, nobody that anybody knows here, ‘Listen, if this really was a one time mistake, and you did not put this person in jeopardy,’ I personally think you should deal with it with yourself and with God and not go and say: ‘Honey look what I did,’ because I knew that this would ruin their relationship and their life. And I can tell you that many, many, many years later they’re happy and together and she did make that mistake and she has to carry that and live with that.”
– Kyle Richards of “The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills” (and Paris Hilton’s aunt) appeared on “Good Morning America” to promote her book and shared this sage advice to Robin Roberts. She was explaining a passage in her book, Life Is Not a Reality Show: Keeping It Real With The Housewife Who Does It All, in which she advises, ”If you cheat once, don’t tell. You get a free pass.” Keep reading »
The internet is littered with posts about a lady’s must-haves (LBD! The perfect boyfriend jeans! Matching silverware!) and while all that is lovely, we know we are not what we own. Right? Right.
So, in honor of The Frisky’s “New Year, New You” series, let’s devote some internet space to the important skillz that you (and I) should master. Keep reading »
2011 had scarcely started before my life turned into a heaping pile of dog shit.
The Frisky was being sold to new owners and our jobs (and paychecks) were held in balance. My boyfriend started diddling around with some girl on the Internet, got caught, and dumped me. He asked me to move out of our apartment and I moved back into my childhood bedroom in the suburbs.
All this happened in the span of two weeks.
My life looked as bleak as the January freeze outside — which, incidentally, trapped me indoors with my parents during a blizzard for longer than should be considered legal under the Geneva Convention.
But friends, family and even strangers surprised me with their mercy in the days, weeks, and months that followed. My best friend, who lives an ocean away, called constantly. My sister drove me down to New Jersey to help me move out of my apartment. A reverend who I barely knew spent hours on the phone talking me down from ledges of broken confidence and self-hatred. Frisky readers wrote me the sweetest, most uplifting blog comments and emails that brought me to tears. Amelia let me sleep on her couch. As my life as I knew it fell apart, I saw the strength of my support system, which I hadn’t even known I had. Keep reading »