Archives for posts with tag: boyfriends

Did you know getting engaged is the leading cause of marriage in the U.S.? Know the facts. Get educated. The Fiancé Fever is sweeping the country, and my Facebook feed, more quickly than a Kardashian files for divorce. No one is safe. Love is literally everywhere.

February is full of white girls suffering from Acute Boyfriend Syndrome: the desperate act of trying to swoop up a man in time for V-day. As a precursor to the Fiancé Fever, symptoms of ABS range from a low-grade depression often resulting from meticulously amassing a secret wedding board on Pinterest, to a moderate or severe depression as a direct result of binging on romantic comedies, often featuring Ryan Gosling.

Tragically, this disorder affects more than 100 billion women each year: All the single ladies. ALL OF THEM.

I, on the other hand, have taken the proper precautions in the perpetual battle against Acute Boyfriend Syndrome, even if it means bringing my mum as my date to another of my peers’ weddings. I haven’t had a great track record with dating. My last breakup was pretty messy…

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[Yeah, I’m not proud of it either. My prom dress was so not quiche. “Blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohooool!”]

I’d like to take a mulligan on the last few years of my dating life. Like Mariah Carey in Glitter, let’s just forget this ever happened. It doesn’t help that all of my girlfriends are bringing men home for the holidays… I brought home a cat, which is still a step up from the last guy I brought home: same amount of hair and quality of conversation, but prettier eyes.

The hype over Valentine’s Day is great… if you’re in a stable, committed relationship that’s never been featured on Teen Mom. I understand the desire to commit an entire holiday to love, but shouldn’t we be celebrating the love in our life every day? I’d be happier with a holiday dedicated to grabbing beers with your best friends: Beerentine’s Day. Then again, I celebrate that fictional holiday all year.

Admittedly, I’m nowhere near the authority on dating & relationships. The most steamy, committed relationship in my life to date has been with pizza… also the entire cast of SNL. But, if I could build my perfect mate, it would go something like this:

  • the face of Ryan Gosling
  • the body of Ryan Gosling
  • (I could end the list here, but…)
  • the hair & suits of Don Draper
  • the voice of Bon Iver
  • the church of Irish Catholic (for my mum, of course)
  • the personality of Michael Scott, regional Manager of Dunder Mifflin
  • the liver of Brett Michaels
  • (JK on that last one)

I like ‘em tall, dork & handsome. I just want to find a guy that will love me as much as Kanye West loves Kanye West. Why settle?

Unlike those tragically affected by ABS, or all of my peers in actual stable relationships outside the realm of reality TV, I’ll be enjoying a pretty satisfying Gal-entine’s Day on my own. Being single on Valentine’s Day means you can do WHATEVER YOU WANT. Also, you don’t have to disappoint anyone (beside your mum who wants you to get hitched & settle down before you’re 40 and have no more “viable eggs”, whatever that means). In any case, fear not, my Gal-entine’s Day will be filled with plenty of pizza, brews, and Bobby Moynihan impressions.

In the meantime, fellow single minglers, we’ll just have to grin & bear all of the schmoozy, gushy social media posts this holiday. A Valentine’s Day post is a lot like Enrique Iglesias’ mole: if you just ignore it long enough, it will go away.

Oh, and if you’re one of the 5 straight men (excluding my immediate family) that read this blog, and you’d like to take me out to celebrate Anti-Valentine’s Day, you can find me at the hardware store, Take Me Home Depot.

XOXO (sarcastically),

M.

(And you probably are, too.)

I tell all of my sparkly-eyed, freshly minted collegiate girlfriends the one bit of advice that no one gave me upon entering into the world of university. (Mum, you probably gave it to me, but didn’t put it in the swanky, hip metaphorical terms I would understand. Sorry, babe.)

Don’t have a boyfriend in college. It’s like eating before you go to a buffet; Never a good idea.

Sure, some couples fair fantastically in the collegiate world. * clap, clap, clap * We’re all thrilled for your amorous bliss. If you’re going to plop yourself into a relationship in college, at least pick a dude with a car. You deserve to get something out of it (also make sure he has a real job: the lead singer of a mid-level, local band does not count. It does not matter how many MySpace friends they have). If you’re anything like the rest of us, why willingly volunteer to be tied down in a relationship during the famed “best years of your life”? Trust me, you’ll miss out on meeting a thousand great people, at least 3 super keggers, and no one will invite you and your boyfriend to that awesome 10 am tailgate party. If you eat before you hit the buffet, you won’t have much fun. You’ll miss out on all the dishes everyone else is sampling.

If you do opt for a boyfriend in college, let me tell you that the most fun ones are the gay ones. They’re down for anything (socially), they’ll always be honest about how you look, and they never complain about shopping. Bonus – you don’t ever have to fret about the awkward sexual tension! You and your gay boyfriend will meet a ton of guys, however, they might not all want to shake the peaches from your tree, if you catch my drift.

Let me stress that this is not an open invitation to be a loose woman, nobody likes a Sleep-Around Sally. Take this to heart, rather, as a tip to encourage you opening yourself up to the experiences you might otherwise miss. You don’t get those years back, so live it up, baby.

I am by no means the source on relationship advice. I womp at dating, mainly because I conduct myself very much like Date Mike (see clip below, please). I’m sorry, but what kind of world do we live in where guys wouldn’t go for that in a chick? Being “sexy” is a very weird concept to me, but nevertheless, I try very hard (i.e. I try to keep my nails painted and occasionally buy underwear that isn’t on sale). Ideally, I would enter a relationship at the three-month mark, where watching cat videos on YouTube in my not-on-sale underwears counts as a date and expressing our mutual love of gnocchi is steamy, hot foreplay. This is not to say that I’m not an adventurous person. I have plenty of adventure in me…

Example A: once my BFF & I signed up for match.com. I went on one date-ish and I kept my account active long after she bailed. So yeah, I’m a thrill-seeker.

Example B: once (not so very long ago) after a wedding, I slept in my car in a hotel parking lot, making sure I was extremely well hidden from would-be predators under a Finding Nemo blanket I made in the 9th grade. “Adventure” might as well be my middle name.

Lesson learned: While I am quite the adventurer, I’m not currently awesome at relationships, mainly because I spent the majority of my collegiate years tied to the same guy and missed out on the people-meeting, tailgate-going, university buffet. Now I’m playing catch up. Truthfully, I met some really fantastic people in school that I love dearly, and I didn’t miss out on all the parties, but if I would have obeyed the “Don’t have a flippin’ boyfriend!” rule from the get-go, I would have been able to experience a lot more. Thankfully, now I have a gig that affords me the opportunity to meet gaggles of wonderful people, visit some pretty superb local hotspots, and exercise mon français. Listen up, mes amis, don’t waste your fun collegiate buffet years, and never be afraid of a little adventure.

BRB, changing my Facebook relationship status to “HAH!”

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