How to Impress Friends And Endear People: Holiday Edition

The holidays are upon us, which means a few things here in Green Country:

  • Jenks, Metro, Cascia, and Bishop Kelley high school reunions on Brookside Tuesday and Wednesday night. (actually, Brookside sucks now. I move that we change the unofficial reunion location to the Blue Dome District. All in favor say “ayyyy-ohhh”).
  • Your friends home from LA telling you at least six celeb-encounter stories (while acting totally blase about it).
  • Beer pong tournaments with your extended family (you know, since we’re all grown up now).
  • Running into that dramatic pansy who likes to pretend you ruined his life (oh wait, maybe that’s just me).
  • Acting completely surprised when bumping into acquaintances at Dickinson Starworld 20 or Lights On Utica Square Thanksgiving night (um, duh).
  • The dreaded “So what have you been doing with your life?” question from well, anyone you don’t speak to on the reg.

Well, I might not be able to convince everyone in Tulsa who graduated between 2005 and 2010 to congregate at Fassler Hall. I don’t have the power to teach you beer pong skills, tell people that not smiling in pictures make them look stupid, or sneak a very large chill pill in a select few’s beverages. I’m not even fully confident I can fake excitement the next time I run into the chick from my geometry class that now has three children and no husband.

However my specialty is people skills, and for your benefit I’m going to offer up my consultation services to you–absolutely free of charge! Want to rehabilitate your image, and keep from looking like a failure/asshole/slob/pretentious prick in front of your oldest and once dearest friends? Read on fair minions.

For those of you on the success train:

You know, the lucky few that are making 50k or above right out of graduation, have a company cell phone, chauffeur, craft services, an expense account, and just made a down payment on a posh condo.  It might be tempting to roll up to your old best friend’s parent’s house in your new Range Rover, fish your personal iPhone out of your Fall 2011 Balenciaga bag, and tell Siri to deliver you a vintage bottle of Dom–but for the sake of your less fortunate friends, try to refrain.

For you, it’s all about subtly touting your promising future. Show off your financial stability by buying people in your immediate vicinity your friends a round of Patron shots. Demonstrate your cultured and refined pool of knowledge by expressing your moderate opinion on the Occupy Wall Street movement, or by reciting an anecdote from a Malcolm Gladwell book.  Imply that you have an important job by noting how stressed out you are. Share crazy boss stories, but throw in a “Silly Skip, always up to his tricks” to show that you and your boss are actually on a nickname basis.

The hardest part of being successful at such a young age is keeping your face neutral when others tell you how they’ve spent their time. If your sorority sister tells you their trying to “break into party planning,” tilt your head and nod, which implies that you’re thinking “how fascinating!” If you encounter someone who still lives at home (and it’s far past the 8-month grace period), congratulate them on “all of the rent money they must be saving!!!!” If your friend is unemployed, blame it on the economy and use it as an platform to share your new political outlook.

Note: the tips above also apply to those of you in med school, law school, or grad school at an Ivy League or in a foreign country. Yep, you know who I’m talking to.

For…everyone else:

Now, just because your friends have a promising career/significant others does not mean that you’re unsuccessful per se. More or less, it means that you just need to get better at well, framing your current state.

Take me for example. I’m not a single blogger that works for her parents and watches reality tv every night. I’m a freelance writer with an interest in pop culture who’s training to be the future CEO of a successful mid-sized company, and simply “hasn’t found the right one” yet. Kim Kardashian isn’t a money-grubbing whore, she’s an enterprising television personality. Lindsay Lohan isn’t a washed-up methhead, she’s a struggling artist.

Think about your current situation, and put a creative spin on it. Taking a victory lap? Actually, you’re right on time considering your double major, minor, and plan to  graduate suma cum laude. Unemployed? Nah, you’re holding out for a fulfilling job where you can “really help people.” Pregnant? Eh, actually I can’t really help you out with that one.

Another way to soften the awkward “yeah, I hate my life right now” conversation is a few strategically placed jokes. Deadpan and say that you’re a professional kitten breeder. By telling friends you’ve been dumped for being a muggle, are considering joining a convent, or have taken up extreme couponing, it will distract them from the true messy state your life may or may not be in.

Other tips for catching up over the holidays…

  • Don’t talk about friends from your job no one else knows, the celebrities you’ve slept with, your boyfriend or girlfriend if they aren’t in the immediate vicinity, or your pets. In fact, if you’re one of those people who devotes photo albums to your furry friends, your human friends probably aren’t going to be down for a chat.
  • Do talk about any salacious gossip you might know about. This includes (but is not limited to) engagements, pregnancies, rehab stints, or Youtube diaries.
  • Don’t be the drunkest person at the gathering. We’re out (or almost out) of college now…puking and passing out has lost its charm.
  • Do look nice. I know it’s somewhat chilly outside and you’d rather be watching the Wonder Years on Netflix, but if there’s ever been a time to take a shower and shave, a friend reunion is it.
  • Don’t be awkward. Awkward in a Zooey Deschanel way is fine I guess (I actually f&$#ing hate her new tv show), but it’s not cool to let break ups, falling outs, or inexplicable melt downs ruin the fun for your mutual friends. Do the mature thing, and give them the stink eye all night instead.
  • Do be supportive. You’re going to want to roll your eyes if your friend tells you they’re moving to Toronto to be with the girl they met on eHarmony, or that they’re taking their shot in the adult film industry. Instead, smile and nod, and make fun of them once they leave.
  • Don’t let gatherings with your friends stress you out. Your friends, after all, are there to love you and accept you for who you’ve become. Plus, you’ll all need a break after the brutal guilt trips and pressure-cooker of a family gathering you’re required to attend.
Posted in College Transitions, Life Chats | 3 Comments

DadBoner: A Dissertation

If you have a Twitter account, odds are you’ve encountered the man of the hour Karl Welzein, better known on the ‘net as @DadBoner. Reminiscent of “Shit My Dad Says,” and every sitcom father of the last two decades, Karl’s just a simple guy looking for facile pleasures. This scholarly discourse will examine Welzein’s behaviors, vernacular, desires, and psychological climate in relation to his apparent state of andropause.

Grab a cold one and a Double Down–we’re about to get deep, you guys.

To introduce our subject in this character study, here’s an expert by Aaron Belz from the Huffington Post:

The Library knows about Karl Welzein, a.k.a. @DadBoner, who is either a real person or a profound literary construction, the despondent American post-marriage male persona nonpareil, Homer Simpson’s Kafkaesque better. He’s from Grand Blanc, Michigan, loves beer and pizza, and watches sports with roommate Dave while ex-wife Ann lives with the kids somewhere nearby. “Really lookin’ forward to the weekend, you guys,” he tweets approximately once a week.

The beauty of the Karl Welzein character study lies in its subtlety and patience, values not generally prized on Twitter. The tweets are not comic in a strict sense, except within the context of the persona, but as they progress they get funnier and funnier, eclipsing more intentional comic-tweeters. They often begin as merely pathetic: “Super pumped for St. Paddy’s Day, you guys! It’s gonna be such a blast.” Then, “Picked up four 6-packs of Guinness for St. Paddy’s pre-gamers. Couldn’t resist, me and Dave went through half of ’em already. So smooth.”

He couldn’t have said it better. @DadBoner tweets build upon each other, and become more endearing and increasingly amusing the better you know Karl.  Speaking of which, what all do we actually know about our fair subject?

  • Judging by his prose and photo, I’m going to say he’s in his early forties.
  • Along with every other burly suburban single man out there, Karl has a passion for the three B’s–beer, babes, and bold flavors.
  • Mr. Welzein maintains some sort of office job–due to his geographical location and workload he alludes to, he probably isn’t a high profile stock trader or CEO. I picture him at a company like Dunder-Mifflin, or the setting of Office Space.
  • Karl hails from Grand Blanc, Michigan, a tiny city with under 9,000 residents and area covers less than 4 square miles.
  • Uncle Karl has a taste for popular food chains such as McDonald’s, KFC, Chili’s, and Buffalo Wild Wings, which he frequents with his roommate Dave. Lately, Karl raves about McRibs, mango habanero wings, and Cheesy Bacon Bowls.
  • He mentions his ex-wife Ann and their kids on occasion, but as of late Karl has been dating other women, and spends his free time at bars and in his bachelor pad rather than at boy scout meetings or little league games.
  • Mr. Welzein is known for popularizing catchphrases such as “celebraish” and “corncob,” and since his presence hit the web, the phrase “you guys” has increase in twentysomethings’ dialogue by at least 60%*

*this statistic may or may not have been invented on the spot.

Our friend Karl is quite clearly going through a bit of a midlife crisis. According to the accurate and reliable source Wikipedia, midlife crises are characterized by:

  • abuse of alcohol
  • acquisition of unusual or expensive items such as motorbikes, boats, clothing, sports cars, jewelry, gadgets, tattoos, piercings, etc.
  • pretend acquisition of expensive items via non-authentic materials or automobile badge replacement
  • depression
  • blaming themselves for their failures
  • paying special attention to physical appearance such as covering baldness, wearing youthful designer clothes, etc.
  • entering relationships with younger people (either/or sexual, professional, parental, etc.)
  • placing overimportance (and possibly a psychologically damaging amount) on their children to excel in areas such as sports, arts, or academics

I hope you didn’t read through all that, I merely included it to appear more scientific. Legit like whoa. Any way, evidence shows that Captain Karl enjoys cold ones on a daily basis, you guys. He alludes to having a ponytail, and rented a limousine for his birthday last month, which could imply illusions of grandeur (or just an appetite for a bangin’ celebraish).

That covers the first two symptoms, but Welzein seldom shows signs of the rest on the list. Although our subject is known to get really steamed on the reg, Karl is anything but discontent or depressed with his life. Rather, Karl strives for excellence and innovation, particularly when it comes to fine cuisine. For example, examine his interest in the culinary industry (via DadBoner.com):

Think this could be huge. Captain Karl’s Pizza Bowls are a bowl of bold pizza chunks you eat in a bowl. Only at Captain Karl’s Pizza Ship.

The only way KFC could sell even more Cheesy Double Bs is if the Colonel himself shoved a gun in vegan corncobs’ faces and made ‘em eat it.

Stayed up ’til 3am workin on my McWing sandwich idea. Think it could be winner, winner, chicken dinner. A true bold, sensation.

Dave says the KFC Colonel was racist. Mighta been a slave owner. Glad he’s dead so we can all enjoy his chicken, guilt free, you guys.

As you can see, Mr. Welzein has not lost his ambitious drive, moral compass, or inquisitive nature throughout this transitional phase of life he’s going through. Let’s compare Karl to another well-known suburban male in a crisis, Kevin Spacey as Lester Burnham in American Beauty. Lester too dreamed of a different day job, but while Karl envisions himself presenting PowerPoints to the executive board at McDonald’s, Lester was content as a fry chef. On the contrary, Karl maintains gainful employment at a 9-5 job that he takes fairly seriously. Here’s what he has to say about it:

So steamed they made us work today. Sick of this. Goin to take a toilet nap in protest. It’s the right thing to do for the USA, you guys.

Just woke up on the toilet at work. Everyone left. Felt so alone. No one even noticed. Kinda hurts. Goin to Chili’s to think about my life.

Like any normal adult living with another person, Karl experiences high and lows with his roommate Dave. After studying Karl’s Twitter feed, I’ve concluded that Dave is single as well and does not possess a Twitter account. Dave too likes to drink cold ones, watch the Lions, and eat fast food. Karl and Dave’s relationship is competitive in nature, but lately Dave has been aggravating Karl more than entertaining him.

Dave’s really tickin me off. Keeps sayin how Ensure is makin his #2s “bigger and badder than ever before.” Who brags about bm’s?!

Stupid Dave took a chunk out of my ear trimmin my neck hair. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SHOWCASE MY ‘RANG WITH A BAND-AID OVER IT!!! Steamed.

Dave doesn’t know anything about chasing dreams. He’s a real low life. Made me so mad I threw my beer at him and he dropped the camera.

Our Karl has an interesting take on love as well. His relationship with his wife and mother of his seldom mentioned children Ann might not have been built to last, but with game and looks like Karl’s, homeboy has nothing to fear:

Really concerned about not hooking up with Karen. Gonna try Craigslist missed connections. Seems like romance happens there.

I’m flying high after that rendezvous. I think her name is Karen might be the best thing that ever happened to me.

Gonna head to Paddy’s soon. Gotta see if Karen’s in to be my arm candy for my big b-day celebraish on Sunday. Goin heavy on the ‘logne.

You have to congratulate Captain Karl’s optimism. He’s a powerful advocate for middle-aged romance. Karl is living, breathing proof that a grown man lookin’ for love does not have to resort to women half their age or the ladies of the night.

@DadBoner provides us with a raw glimpse at the middle-aged man’s inner psyche. Sure, we get a fair helping of hetero gross-out humor, but Karl’s tweets are peppered with earnest wisdom as well. As the narrative of his insignificant life unfolds before us, it’s hard not to get hooked on his honest opinions and surprisingly innocent outlook on life. Everyone loves an anti-hero, and Karl Welzein is champion of the suburbanite middle class male.

From Mr. Welzein himself, In the end, we’re all “only for a limited time,” you guys.

Posted in Pop Culture | Tagged , , | 4 Comments

Pinterest in Screwing With Every Girl’s Mind

I seriously feel like I’m betraying the female race for writing this.

But, the secret is going to get out soon enough.

I’m hip to most internet social fads…I had a Myspace in middle school, Xanga early in high school, switched to Facebook the day they let high schoolers on and made a Twitter account in early 2009. I didn’t really jump on the Google+ bandwagon, but apparently no one else did either. When I heard about Pinterest, it definitely sounded like something I could be a part of–after all, I’m into fashion, design, recipes, etc. Sounded like a great match.

Pinterest is great because it kind of combines Facebook’s bumper stickers, scrapbooking, and flipping through magazines into one. It’s the first place to go if I need a little interior design inspiration, something to cook for dinner, a fashion flash, or want to giggle at photos of cute puppies.

Then I noticed photos like these appearing on my homepage, posted by my friends, whose identities shall remain anonymous (to protect the innocent, of course):

…I’m completely serious. As you are reading this, you’re girlfriend/best girl friend/girl next door/sister/slam piece is either pinning photos like this, or admiring the photos like this that their friends have pinned.

Let’s have a real life chat: anyone who is friends with me knows that I’m seriously not the kind of girl that looks necessarily looks forward to marriage. Okay, that made me sound like a whore. What I mean is, I enjoy my current lifestyle. I’m never been one to daydream about the kind of flowers I want at my wedding or what song they’ll play when I walk down the aisle. Where we’ll go for my bachelorette party? YES (and there BEST be strippers). Okay, sorry. Now I’m really never going to get married.

Anyway, coming from a girl who is not even a little bit marriage obsessed (and even open to the idea of eloping instead), having these photos shoved in my face every single day has made me a tiny bit insane. Or okay, really nuts. As in, I caught myself Facebook creeping the several friends I have who got married this summer.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t kind of enjoying it.

Don’t worry though, personally I have not succumbed to creating a Wedding board on Pinterest yet, and I don’t plan on it anytime soon. But it gets worse. Remember the funny bumper stickers from Someecards, or extremely un-politically correct ones that were amusing but you were too afraid to post on anyone’s wall in fear of getting scorned? Okay, now do you remember the needy Cinderella ones that sorority sisters posted on each other’s walls? Ones like this:

Houston, we might have a problem.

Moral of the story? For the love of God, men, PLEASE stay off of Pinterest. Not only will it scare the shit out of you, but it will also convince you that every girl you know is absolutely insane.

Do us all a favor, and let us be needy/romantic/delusional hot messes in the privacy of our own gender.

Posted in Absurd, Pop Culture | Tagged | 2 Comments

My Secret Fashion Life…

Okay, so maybe it’s not so secret. Actually, fashion is how I started blogging in the first place. Reading fashion blogs turned into me making a little one of my own (mostly so I could comment on other people’s), which led to me going out on a limb and applying for a job with College Fashion. Well, over a year later, I’m now a paid contributor for College Fashion, started an OU Fashion blog (which my sister is about to take over), write for the Lost Ogle, and try my best to get new content on this little blog between you know, my day job, sleeping, and Netflix.

Recently the New York Times (!!!) interviewed me for a piece on fashion on college campuses–and it was just published yesterday. Check it out here. If you’re lazy, skip to the second page 4th paragraph for the good part (you know, about yours truly).

Don’t worry, tulsa20something is not going to become a fashion blog any time soon–but I do feel like I’ve kept these two blogging lives separate for awhile and just thought I should share. I realize that 75% of the people who read blog this are male anyways, so I’ll keep subject matter to the important things–Tulsa, beer, and bitches.

Just in case you’re interested though, here’s links to some of my favorite posts from the past:

Why Carrie Bradshaw Sucks At Life

Lady Gaga: A Club Kid Party Monster Rip-off?

The Curious Case of Tavi Gevinson

Fashion Inspired By The Breakfast Club

Fashion Inspired By Top Gun

Fashion Inspired By Wicked

Fashion Inspired By The Graduate

 

Posted in Life Chats, Pop Culture | Tagged | Leave a comment

You Know You Had A Great OU/Texas When…

  • You start the weekend by eating at In-N-Out Burger. So this one’s new, but definitely a new tradition I’m instating.
  • You frat lap so many times at North Park that you pass out before you even break out the booze. And your arms are strained and bruised from carrying so many bags. And you feet are blistered…from your Sperry’s. And you found the perfect (yet way over priced) dress to wear that night. You know the boost of awesomeness you feel after getting a new hair cut? Try getting a new hair cut AND a new dress at the same time.
  • You befriend people you meet in the halls of your hotel. Cause you’ve got to have someone to pre-game with. Plus, you have to get their names so you have someone to blame any inadvertent vandalism on.
  • You spend way too much on dinner. And 750 mLs. And mixers from the gas station. And the cab ride uptown or to the West End. And then too much on Texas beer. Then too much on a G&T for your boo. Then WAAAAAY too much on a round of Royal F—s for your friends.
  • You cross someone something off your bucket list. Presented without comment.
  • Someone inadvertently steal something. Or straight up rips off a banister at Spaghetti Warehouse and carry it alongside I-35 with them all the way back to your hotel room. I’ll leave out names to protect the innocent.
  • You over sleep. Early OU/Texas games are so love/hate for me. I’d like to have an evening game just once! Everyone always feels horrible Saturday morning, and Saturday night festivities are always a let down anyways. Everyone’s problems would be solved if they made the game just a little bit later, like at 4 or 5.
  • Someone throws up on the way to the Cotton Bowl. Props if your friends catch it on film or tweet about it.
  • Your team wins. And scores 3 defensive touchdowns. And makes the other team look absolutely ridiculous. Then you feel kind bad about it because Mack Brown was classy about the whole thing.
  • Going out Saturday seems more difficult than a commercial banking exam. You’re tired, dehydrated, and all you want to do is curl up in the cozy hotel bed and watch Pay Per View. But dig deep–something worthwhile will happen. Hopefully.
  • You run into old friends that don’t attend either OU or Texas. Shout out to Chris, John, and Jacob. Whaddup broheims!
  • Someone destroys their phone. Unfortunately that person was me, so I apologize to the 12 people that texted me that I couldn’t respond to. Damn I’m popular sometimes.
  • Someone cries. Sorry guys, it was rainy, cold, my phone was broken and my friends were out of sight. Party foul.
  • Half of your roomies don’t come home. Good for them, I’m always happy if my friends get lucky.
  • Someone unexpected crashes in your room. As a good friend, it’s important to offer shelter to those of your homies that travel far and away so you wouldn’t have to take a creepy cab ride by yourself.
  • You want to kill yourself the entire drive home. And no amount of Sonic Blasts or cheddar bites will soothe your agony.
  • You have to re-budget your finances the rest of the month after checking your bank statement. Once again, presented without comment.

Great stories? Horrible stories? Comments, concerns? Holla atchyo girl.

Posted in College Transitions | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

The Red River Rivalry: A Survival Guide

Today marks the 5th year in a row I’ve traveled to Dallas to catch one of the most important games of the season–OU/Texas, also known as the Red River Rivalry. Yep, I’m graduated. Yep, I’m skipping work tomorrow. And yes, I’m staying in a hotel room packed like sardines with my friends who are still in college. Sorry for partying.

I’ll try to keep the shit talk to a minimum, and focus on the important issues. You know, things like how to maximize your fun, minimize your hangovers, and do the least amount of damage to your bank account as possible. Read on party people.

1. Book your hotel early. Considering the extravaganza is going down in t-minus 24 hours, you might be getting this memo a little late. If you’re unfortunate enough to get stuck staying anywhere besides downtown (or uptown), go ahead and book your hotel room now–for next year. If not, you’re bound to get stuck in a crackhouse lower end hotel (bed bugs included) or forced to endure a 3 AM drive back to Plano. Never fun, or safe for that matter. Speaking of which…

2. Don’t fear the DART. Fine, you can be a snob and refuse public transportation, but if so, prepare to drop some serious cash on transit. It’s cheap (or free if you’re daring), dodges traffic, and often includes friendly homeless people who will offer you sips of their Four Loko. This being said, proceed relying on the DART with caution…

3. Wager time vs. money. The DART is great for getting from the Sheraton to the West End, but AWFUL for getting from downtown to the fair grounds. In fact, unless you want to wake up at the crack of dawn, it’s hardly an option. With the game this year starting at 11, we’ll have to wake up early enough as is. Yikes. Cab it, or convince your hot mess friend who partied too hard Friday night to be your designated driver for the afternoon.

4. Avoid the police. Seriously. Every year I have at least one friend who gets arrested, pepper sprayed, or both.

5. Getcha some good eats. I go to Texas De Brazil every year during OU/Texas weekend. This is partially because my parents go to the game and have a penchant for expensive meals. If $50 bones is a little too steep for your budget, Spaghetti Warehouse, Mi Cocina, or the Hard Rock Cafe will do I suppose.

Speaking of which, I tried Mi Cocina last night and it was probably the most mediocre yet most expensive Tex-Mex I’ve eaten since Ted’s. Not impressed.

6. Spend Friday wisely. Drive up Thursday if you can–and believe me, you should. Unfortunate fellows who try to leave Friday morning endure a 5 hour commute, and end up too exhausted to fully enjoy the night’s West End madness. I plan on spending all Friday at North Park, but that’s just me.

7. Go with the right people. You might get recognized and put into box seats at the House of Blues. If only I had more than 10 loyal readers! That would grant me some serious star power.

Leave the drama queens, raging maniacs, and emotional drunks at home. Nothing ruins a party faster than a crying friend.

8. Don’t be a party foul. Last year, my dear friend Kevin thought it would be fun to party with a bunch of randos. One um, very large person who tagged along thought it would be fun to pass out on top of my newly purchased clothes and use my Marc Jacobs handbag as a pillow. I’m a fashion girl. Hell hath no fury like watching a 250 lb girl dry heave over your precious acquisitions. I’ve never wanted to kick someone’s ass before–until this night. Considering she was over twice my size, I have a feeling it wouldn’t have fared well, but regardless, I was PISSED.

9. Get out early. Rest and recuperate in your respective homes. Last year, I forced my caravan to leave at 7:30 in the morning. I wish I was joking. Sitting in traffic on I-35 is beyond miserable.

10. Bring a camera. This is one of the best weekend of the year. You’ll want to keep the memories…and if not, well that’s what the “delete” button is for.

Posted in College Transitions | Tagged , , | 3 Comments

Tulsa20something Writes a Personal Ad

The great writers that I aspire to be like (you know, Tucker Max and Hank Moody, but less slutty) have both successfully gotten dates as a result of their mighty pen. So, I might not be a New York Times best-selling author, but I’ve got a solid 200-person fan base. Surely there’s an eligible bachelor somewhere in the midst of my motley, loyal readers.

It’s no secret that I’m not exactly the most lucky-in-love girl in town. My recent relationship history plays out kind of like post-Brad Jennifer Aniston’s. In the last month alone, I’ve been proposed to outside of Suger’s, received a semi-nude photo from an ex’s best friend, and was practically broken up with by a guy that I never dated and rarely speak to. I’m not desperate enough to resort to eHarmony (sidenote: does anyone actually know someone who’s successfully obtained a relationship through a dating website?) but I’m certainly willing to make a mockery of my love life in the name of humor.

Single, male, non-smoker, and non-ugly? Read on.

  • Must be taller than me. I’m only 5’2″. Hopefully no one is DQ-ed at this point in the game.
  • Must hate home-cooked meals. I only know how to burn grilled cheese and boil Ramen noodles. For me, heating a Lean Cuisine evenly is a challenge. Plus, I really don’t like cleaning up. Which brings me to my next point:
  • Must love doing household chores. I have mild allergies, debilitating enough to keep me from mowing lawns, dusting, sweeping, or folding laundry. Don’t worry: where I lack in domesticity, I make up for in charm and witticism.
  • Must not be jealous. I have an inordinate amount of guy friends, and a large amount of them are ridiculously slutty. Not to worry, my personal choices do not reflect their excessive behavior. Think of it like opposites attract: I dig the non-whorish males, so I can be best friends with Gerard Butler Jr. without developing any awkward feelings.
  • Must not have too many girl friends. I know, this seems contradictory considering my previous requirement. This clause is included not because I’m a jealous person, but because guys with more girl friends than guy friends are kind of gay. And trust me, I have plenty of gay friends as is.
  • Must not be stupid. The closest I ever got to killing someone was a few months ago in Fayetteville. I was stuck wingmanning with a guy who believed my rosary necklace paid homage to Saint Boondock, and was befuddled by the plotline of Brink! I had a murder weapon in hand (a butter knife) but couldn’t come up with a decent alibi, so I refrained.
  • Must still be fun. I’m not the kind of girl that likes to snuggle and go to bed at 9:00 on a Friday. At least not yet. I’m only 22, I’ve still got 4 or 5 good years left in me.
  • Must be secure. And not just financially. I was once broken up with because the guy “couldn’t handle my success.” You read that correctly–it’s not just a plot device that happens on sitcoms. I’m going to be the CEO of a company one day. If your pansy-ass is uncomfortable with that, move back to Pleasantville.
  • Must like good movies. If Facebook tells me that your favorite films are “Good Luck Chuck” and “American Pie: the Naked Mile,” there’s no need to waste your time.
  • Must enjoy unusual hobbies. I enjoy dancing on coffee tabletops to the tune of the Beach Boys. I fly kites and go bowling on occasion. I enjoy visits to the firing range. I’m a champion putt-putter. I recently learned how to play croquet! It’s not going to work out if the only leisure activity you enjoy is going to the gym. Speaking of which:
  • Must not consume protein shakes. I don’t exercise, and I don’t appreciate people who make me feel bad about that fact. I still fit into a size 2, so I see no need to subtract from the valuable time I spend with my soul mate, Netflix (heart health can wait). Guys that are too obsessed with their bodies creep me out. Especially guys with giant pecs…the only thing worse than giant pecs are mitties. This being said, men who acquire fit bodies by playing sports, running, biking, rock climbing, etc are encouraged to inquire.
  • Must think my quirks are adorable. This includes (but is not limited to) my love for Chuck Klosterman, my inability to fall asleep without the TV on, my addiction to kimchi, and my gripping hatred of ketchup.
  • Must have a good sense of humor. I’m a blogger. Know that occasionally, you’ll be the butt of my jokes. It’s okay, the abuse won’t be too bad–after all, if I date you, I’ll want people to believe that you’re cool-ish.

Miscellaneous Deal Breakers: if your hair is braided, if you tweet more than three times a day, if you “check in” at places on Facebook, if you’re into intravenous drugs, if your favorite music group is LMFAO, or if you want to get married and/or father children any time soon.

Note: if you resemble Jonathan Rhys Meyers or Val Kilmer before he gained 100 pounds, ignore all previous statements and call me immediately.

Posted in Life Chats | 12 Comments