“Grooms get in free!”
That’s the generous offer from Austin Monthly, my local glossy society rag, for its “Couture, Cakes and Cufflinks,” uh, “Bridal Bash.” There’s nothing particularly unusual about this kind of shill party, and that’s what makes it particularly offensive. It’s every disgusting wedding narrative rolled into one day-long event that women are actually expected to pay to attend.
There’s so much to hate about mainstream wedding culture — the consumerism, the gender policing, the fucking consumerism, the body-shaming, did I mention the consumerism? — but perhaps the wedding-related narrative that pisses me off more than any other is the idea that men are incapable of being interested in weddings and must be coddled and babied so that their delicate wedding-hating sensibilities are not offended. Keep reading »
If you’re the kind of couple who have mutually decided NOT to acknowledge Saint Hallmark’s Day — because of your belief that it’s a consumer-driven pseudo holiday, penchant for rebellion or overall cynical nature — you may often find yourself confused about how to pass the day that so many others are making such a big fuss about. And you’ll have to pass it with each other since everyone else you know has plans. After the jump, what you’ll need so as not to be disturbed on February 14th, just another day on your calendar. Keep reading »
It is better to be single than badly accompanied: that is a truism of relationships that I’ve often reminded myself when the time came for a difficult breakup conversation. As we all know, time and distance can have blurring effects. You forget about the times he yelled at you in public or the snotty tone of voice he used when he talked down to you. You remember the cuddles and the kisses as if they were all you did, every time, even when you know this is not the whole story.
On Valentine’s Day — the day that is supposed to be about celebrating love and romance — it seems fitting to remember the guys who we are happy aren’t in our lives:
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It all started a few years ago with an ex and one innocent Google search. In a moment of missing Jeremy*, a guy I’d dated a couple of years earlier, I typed his name and pressed “Enter,” thinking, What could it hurt? It did hurt though when the results returned an article about him and his new girlfriend, whom, I read, he now lived with.
Despite how painful this news was, after that initial Google I became addicted to looking him up online. My cocktail of choice was one parts Googling, two parts his blog, and three parts Twitter. With these sources mixed together, I could feel like I was somehow still connected to him. I was hooked, and I’d go through periods of reading his Twitter several times a day, every day. Keep reading »