Anti-Valentine’s Day Post

For all of you who have just been dumped, feel unloved, think this day is stupid, or all of the above, this post is for you. This is my Eff You Valentine’s Day post. (I was going to pick the photo of Cupid face-down, shot dead with his own arrow, but he’s still a baby and that’s just creepy and wrong.

Look, I get that it sucks to not have a Valentine. Or to see who should be your Valentine giving cutesy little gifts to someone else. Or to hate the holiday in general and see everyone (including me — sorry) make a huge ass deal about it.

Here’s what I say you do: Continue reading

Things You Need After You Get Dumped

When you break up with your boyfriend (or girlfriend), there are several bases that need to be covered. When one of my best friends broke up with her long-term boyfriend, I took her to our local grocery store and picked up the following items:

1. Ben & Jerry’s Rocky Road Ice Cream: The flavor can vary, but there must be some sort of chocolatey goodness and/or cookie dough chunks involved. If there is no visible deliciousness that you can pick up and eat, then move on to a different ice cream. Also, don’t think, Hey, I’m one person. Let me go for the pint. No, my friend, no. The only pint you should be reaching for is a pint of beer that night. But that’s coming later.

2. A box of Puff’s Plus with Aloe: Dude, you’ve been crying all day and snotting it up everywhere and you’re not going for the ones with the aloe? Yeah, I also see that it’s $1.50 more but I’m pretty sure your nose will thank you down the depressing, depressing line.

3. A bottle of Excedrin: All that screaming and crying is definitely going to stir up a killer headache that isn’t going to go away without some serious painkillers — and since vicodin is off the table, Excedrin it is.

4. Chocolate — Lots and Lot of Chocolate: I once ate 8 (cough, or 9, cough) Nestle Crunch Bars with caramel after my very first breakup. It’s a known fact that chocolate contains over 500 natural chemical compounds, “some of which have been categorized as mood-elevating and pleasure-inducing.”  In addition to Theobromine and Caffeine, a chemical compound called Phenylethylamine (PEA) “may be responsible for some of the pleasurable feelings you get after eating chocolate because it releases natural feel-good chemicals called endorphins in your brain.” So, yeah, eat a shit-ton of chocolate. Also, see If Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend, Then Chocolate Is Her Soulmate for more chocolatey reading.

5. Potato chips: Just like the ice cream and chocolate, let’s not get cheap with the potato chips. A small bag will not suffice. You need to be able to indulge in greasy goodness for a very, very long time.

After you cry until you feel like you’ve dried out your tear ducts and you’ve re-lived every heart-wrenching moment of the breakup and all events leading up to it (and I mean all), that’s when you go out with your best friends and get plastered off your face. I don’t recommend going home with anyone but I do recommend some ferocious making out that you won’t remember the next day.

Did I miss anything? Any others tips?

Shushing Me And Other Things That Will Get You Killed

I was once on a date with a guy that I had been talking to for a few weeks. We went to my favorite Italian restaurant. Seated in the backhand corner at a small table, we were eating fried calamari when it happened…The incident.

I was mid-story (which involved reeneacting a scene in which my finger was pointed up at his face) when he reached out about halfway over the table (where my finger was), grabbed onto it, and pulled it down.

My jaw dropped faster than my finger.

“Did you just pull my finger down?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Yeah. People thought you were yelling at me. They look over and see your finger in my face like that.” Continue reading

I Want To Hold Models Down And Feed Them Lard

I’m sitting here, watching the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show (something I do every year), while stuffing my face with Chocolate Teddy Grahams.  Yes, I’m trying to ignore my sorrow by masking my pain with chocolate.  Shockingly enough, though, eating fistfuls of tiny bear-shaped cookies straight out of the box is not making me look any more like the 90-pound, 6’2 models I’m watching dance down the runway in 6-inch stilettos that cost more than my car.  And they get wings.  Come on, isn’t that just adding insult to injury, now?

When I look at a Victoria’s Secret catalogue, sure, I cry because I have no boobs, let alone Double D’s. Sure, I weep over the fact that they are a foot taller than me and weigh less.  And, yes, I contemplate plastic surgery when I see how flawless their skin and features are.  However (and this is a BIG, HUGE, GIGANTIC “however,” ladies), I also know that the catalogue has some of the best-paid Photoshoppers in the business.  I can, there, lie to myself and say that they really aren’t that beautiful in real life.  That it’s a computer making them stunning.  That they’re actually ugly and fat and that’s Victoria’s REAL secret.  And then I watch the annual Fashion Show and immediately reach for the Kleenex. Continue reading