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Love & Romance

It's a Girl Thing, Life & Other Drugs, Love & Romance, On "The Hill"

The Fleeting Nature of Love and Weather Protective Gear

September 25, 2017

It was early September. I was caught between a rock and a hard place—the rock being a mom loudly debating the redeeming qualities of two different brands of air freshener, the hard place being the check-out line of the Bed Bath & Beyond in Providence Place Mall, the relief being the impulse purchasing of a $25 umbrella.

I say impulse buy, but I had actually yearned for this umbrella for quite a while. It was made of clear, durable plastic domed over a mushroom shaped frame, and I had heard them referred to as “bubble” umbrellas. I found it to be whimsical yet practical (which is a descriptor I sort of mold my entire being around). It was impulsive in the sense that I hadn’t been planning to stumble upon something I had hoped for in such a random place. I didn’t expect to buy in so cavalierly to something that I had exalted in my mind. Continue Reading…

It's a Girl Thing, Life & Other Drugs, Love & Romance, Satire

The Everygirl’s Guide to Tinder

September 19, 2017

Well here I am, single again. No it’s cool, I’m okay, unfurrow your brows. Fortunately for all of us, I’m slowly but surely moving out of the “crying in line at the bank” phase and progressing into the “tequila will never leave me” part of the grieving process. Oh, and I’ve made myself a Tinder account. Admit it ladies, there’s honestly nothing more gruesomely satisfying than rating a man based on four low-qual photos of him at his senior prom and two lines of poorly-constructed self-reflection. Especially when one certain member of his species has Maced your heart in the face. Or perhaps you’re not in some sort of emotional spiral at all, you are a self-respecting, responsible young lady out here looking for love on a handheld device. More power to you. Future spinsters and social goddesses alike, I have compiled for us all a quick and easy guide to navigating the fuckboy hellscape that is Tinder. Enjoy. Continue Reading…

Life & Other Drugs, Love & Romance

On Making the First Move

April 19, 2017

I am a young, empowered, millennial woman, who no longer has the time to wait around. It’s 2017, so why shouldn’t I make the first move when it comes the opposite sex? I’m trying to find myself a man! Or at least a consistent hook up. Or a one-time hook up. Or honestly just some male attention.

Even dating apps are encouraging women to take this first step. Take Bumble, for instance. These are changing times and I’m just flowing with them! I mean seriously, what’s the worst that could happen– they say no? I’ll just shrug it off and move on to my next potential man.

I’ve managed to send some texts on these apps, even suggesting possible hang out situations that could turn romantic. What I have failed to factor into the equation upon sending these messages are both my sensitivity levels and my emotional capacity.

I learned that the worst that can happen is not that these men say no, but that they just don’t respond at all. When this happens, I feel horrible – unwanted and not sexy. And I love feeling sexy! But for some reason, each time I make the first move, “the worst” always happens and it keeps happening.

Why would this be the case? I’m cute. I’m fun. Right… right? But these silent rejections have forced me to make some speculations as to why they don’t want to give Allie G a chance!

For some that I’ve reached out to, I’ve had previous romantic-ish encounters with him. Maybe he fears that if we do meet up again, he’ll realize he’s in love with me, but he’s just not ready for that type of commitment right now. And, I get it. I’m a lot, but I’m worth it. So if you’re not ready for the challenge, it’s understandable. Your non-response to my text hurts, but I understand your silence.

Or maybe this match has his heart set on someone else. And uh, first off, who is this chick that I have to compete with? Second, what does she have that I don’t?! I am then forced to reconsider these initial reactions, and realize that I can’t keep him from his true love. He must be ignoring me just because he can’t tempt fate. Your non-response stings… a lot, but I understand your heart.

These non-responsive and non-reciprocated feelings have nothing to do with me, right? Guys would love to date me! My mom tells me that I’m perfect, even though she thinks I might have a slight anger management problem.

Still, I do feel slightly defeated. My inner feminist wants to say “fuck those boys, there is someone out there for you. Keep putting yourself out there!” But my ego is screaming, “Allie, stop now! You’re just going to get more hurt and I literally don’t know how you’re going to take it. Save yourself.”

Making the first move seems great in theory, but in retrospect, it just reminds me that boys prioritize their self-interest. In doing so, they fail to get to really know me. They may not want a relationship with me right now or they may like someone else, but they should at least respond to my texts and tell me the truth. I don’t need some bullshit answer. And I don’t need to be ghosted. We’re all adults here. As I said, I am an empowered female who can handle the truth! And if they don’t have the decency to respond, I deserve better. Both my inner feminist and ego can agree with that.

Image via and via.

It's a Girl Thing, Love & Romance

Catfished: Lumiere Was Hotter as a Candle

March 21, 2017

Beauty and the Beast is a controversial children’s movie about Stockholm Syndrome where man lies with man, woman lies with beast, and inanimate objects lie in wait to become human again. Amidst all of this controversy I would like to raise one additional concern, and that is that Lumiere was hotter as a candle, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about it.

One may argue that Beauty and the Beast advocates looking past physical appearances and towards the true beauty that lies within. And that’s fair, but I would like to argue that Beauty and the Beast also claims that if you look past someone’s physical appearance for enough time, and that person happens to be under a magical curse, you will eventually be rewarded with a hottie.

So what makes candle Lumiere hotter than human Lumiere? Is it the fact that his candelabra proportions set an unrealistic standard for male beauty? That his tall, dark, and thin candle bod just isn’t attainable in a human? Is it the error of costuming and the fact that human Lumiere looks like he’s stuffed into that three piece like it’s a sausage casing? Is it because the color of human Lumiere’s wig doesn’t match his facial hair? Does Ewan McGregor, for whatever reason, just not do it for me? Who’s to say. But for some reason the artistic directors made the choice for Lumiere to be hotter as a candle than as a man and for his eventual reveal to be a total let-down. And I feel betrayed. And is that wrong?

Here we transition into the ethics of anthropomorphizing and assessing the desirability of something you can find in a Home Goods. And it’s a real gray area. While on one hand it might be my fault for being an absolute freak, on the other hand Disney has purposefully crafted Lumiere to be seen as a romantic object (pun intended) through his relationship with the feather duster.

 

If we draw the line at inanimate objects, is it okay to think that Simba is hot? Or is Lumiere more acceptable because you know there’s a human within? But once you know what the human within looks like, and you then want to go back to the candle—what does that make you? Someone who wants to fuck a candle?

In conclusion, I’d just like to say that Disney opened up more than one can of worms with this latest artistic endeavor, and that while I’d be candle Lumiere’s guest any day, if human Lumiere with his ring-clad pinky finger and smug little face were so inclined, I’d turn tail and run.

Image via, via, via, and via.

It's a Girl Thing, Life & Other Drugs, Love & Romance

Mark Zuckerberg PLEASE READ

March 8, 2017

Hey Mark Zuckerberg!

How’s it going? Is life treating you nicely? I bet it is, since you created Facebook and everything.  You can seriously do whatever you want. Must be nice.

Anyway, I love Facebook. I’m a huge fan! But I also think you’re trying to sabotage me, Mark. Yes, I know this is a huge accusation to make, but I feel justified in stating this.

You know how you created Messenger? It’s great by the way – I love being able to contact the people who won’t give me their phone numbers. I’m a little confused though about that thumbs up feature. You know the one I’m talking about. Right next to where you can type. It’s to the right of the smiley face feature. Yes there is a thumbs up. Yeah now you know! Well, it sends without any warning. It doesn’t even go in the text box to make sure you actually want to send it.

This needs to change. This “thumbs up” feature is making me look like a psycho passive aggressive lil’ bitch. Allow me to elaborate. I’ve been ghosted once or twice in my life. You’re in with the millennial slang right Mark? Ghosting is when a person just stops responding to you, despite the “relationship” you shared together. I was experiencing this phenomenon.

I gave one guy my phone number over Messenger. Now, I don’t mean to dis Messenger, but I just feel like good ole texting is more personal. So, I sent him my number, but hadn’t heard back from him in a little while. I went back to the conversation to see if he read my message – since, Mark, you thought it was a good idea to add read receipts to Messenger (another letter for another time).

Well, he read the message but wasn’t texting me. Defeated, I tried exiting out of the conversation, but instead my finger accidentally slipped and hit your stupid ass thumbs up button that automatically sends! Now I look like a girl who’s hurt but trying to be sly and petty about it. I mean that is normally me, but I don’t need to convey this over Facebook Messenger – he was meant to find that out in person!

So seriously Mark, are you intentionally trying to hurt my love life? It’s already pretty unsuccessful. I don’t need you additionally strapping the bricks onto my feet, throwing me into the river, and yelling “every man for themselves!” Is that too graphic? Good, so this can be prevented from ever happening again. Please get your computer science people over in Menlo Park to get rid of this feature. I really don’t want to have to double text you.

Sincerely,

A Girl Seeking Affection

Image via and via.

It's a Girl Thing, Love & Romance

Nope, Haven’t Seen It: Grease

March 5, 2017

My defining characteristics have always been the following: I’m 5’7, I hate mayonnaise, and I haven’t seen Grease. I’ve been running away from the movie for about as long as I can remember. It’s chased me from my grandmother’s house to middle school sleepovers and ultimately to my musical-obsessed boyfriend’s home in corn-country Ohio. That is where I met my fate.

“You haven’t seen GREASE????”

I cringe at the question, but then confidently respond: “No.” I am then harassed with a slew of dance moves and John Travolta impressions. They are all bad.

On February 20th 2017, however, my defining characteristic was compromised, and I am now exclusively defined by an aversion to mayonnaise.

I was congested, menstruating and sleep deprived, not to mention dehydrated. Cocooned in four blankets with a 60-pound dog on my lap, I did the unthinkable. I learned the meaning of Grease Lightning… and that it was all flippin’ sexist.

Let’s begin with the opening number. I quote, “Tell me more. Tell me more. Was it love at first sight. Tell me more. Tell me more. Did she put up a fight?” DID SHE PUT UP A FIGHT? Excuse you, sir. The only fight being put up is against the claimed size of your you-know-what.

Later, it’s just the ladies. No boys allowed. But someone clearly laced the nail polish remover with patriarchy as Rizzo sings: “Look at me, I’m Sandra Dee. Lousy with virginity. Won’t go to bed ‘til I’m legally wed. I can’t. I’m Sandra Dee!” What about choice, Rizzo? Aren’t you gonna be DL craving abortion rights in 45 minutes?

And lastly, at the end of movie, we have the grand transformation, the Extreme Home Makeover Edition of female beauty, from a pure virgin(ity-is-a-construct-created-by-men) girl to a jaw-dropping, cigarette-smoking maven. See it for yourself:

In conclusion, I did not know that this was the prequel to Chiddy Chiddy Bang Bang, so needless to say, the realism of the film really went to shit as the car literally flew off into the sunset. The screen faded to black and I was met with three eager stares. “SooOOO??? What’d ya think?”

Without words, I shrugged. I then received a 23-minute lecture on why I was wrong and on why musicals are capable of making full-grown men cry. I have since been paid off to tell you… that Grease is a fabulous movie and you should all go see it right now.

It’s on Netflix.

 

Images via and via.

It's a Girl Thing, Life & Other Drugs, Love & Romance

On Unrealistic Abroad Flings: A Side-by-Side Comparison to the Lizzie McGuire Movie

February 21, 2017

If you are a female ages 19-25, then you were (hopefully) a die-hard Lizzie McGuire fan. You strived to have Lizzie’s wardrobe, a best friend like Miranda, and the unrequited love of Gordo. You were devastated when the series ended, but ecstatic when the movie came to your local Blockbuster.

When I first watched this film, I was insanely jealous of Lizzie’s adventures abroad, specifically of her relationship with Italian pop superstar Paolo. Fourteen years later, after having an abroad experience of my own, I’m still jealous of Lizzie’s time in Rome. In Copenhagen, I met my own version of Paolo, but my experience failed to live up to the expectations Lizzie set so high for me.

In order to emphasize my not-so glamorous abroad fling, I will outline a side-by-side comparison of Lizzie’s relationship in contrast to my own.

First off, I would like to point out that Lizzie was a recent graduate of the 8th grade. I, on the other hand, was a 21 year old college junior. I had to wait seven years to even remotely experience the thrills of Lizzie’s international love story.

I truly believe the reason why Lizzie succeeded in Rome was mainly due to the fact that she happened to have an exact identical twin, Isabella. Isabella also happened to be a huge pop star all over Italy. Lizzie then experienced that classic mix up when hundreds of people start asking for your autograph and willingly gift you a huge wheel of cheese. It is because of this that Lizzie is introduced to Paolo.

I, less glamorously, met my Paolo while trying to escape the incessant pestering of a drunken thirty-something year-old Danish man, who spoke little English and claimed to live on a boat. Still relatively new to Copenhagen, I was ready to take on the nightlife, but it wasn’t off to a great start. Just as I was about to leave the bar and call it a night, my tall Danish Paolo came up to me and just started talking. We hit it off and before I knew it, he was shoving his tongue down my throat.

Lizzie, however, got caught up in Paolo’s world. Riding on the back of his Vespa, Lizzie saw the whole city through a local’s eye. They held hands under a sky full of fireworks at the Trevi Fountain. She helped him get ready for his big performance at the Coliseum, where we all learned that Lizzie could sing (despite her constant reminders that she’s incredibly shy). She even got to do that awesome scene where she tries on all those outfits and walks on the runway!

My Danish Paolo and I communicated solely through texts, snapchats, phone calls, and rare video chats. When we made our first plan to hang out, he suggested just picking me up and driving us to “wherever.” I, however, got nervous and canceled last minute. After a lot of clarification, we were back to talking again. He was really sweet and said he just wanted to get to know me. But, when I suggested he take me out somewhere, he asked if he could just come over to my place instead. Romantic, right?

When Lizzie finally learned that Paolo was a duplicitous, lying little bitch, she totally showed him up. We were all ready to see Isabella reveal the fact that Paolo was lip-syncing and then steal the show. However, not only did Lizzie help reveal the true Paulo, she also got to be the one to perform Isabella and Paulo’s hit song “This Is What Dreams Are Made Of” at the Coliseum. Talk about telling your boy bye!

I, on the other hand, after not hearing from my Danish Paolo for two days, texted and called him an embarrassing amount of times – twenty, if you were wondering what constitutes embarrassing. When he finally contacted me back, he told me our “relationship” was getting to be too much for him and that we should probably end whatever we were doing. I proceeded to cry for the next three hours until my friend brought over a tub of ice cream and suggested we watch “No Strings Attached.”

So yes, you could say Lizzie killed it in Rome, as a 13 or 14 year old, in comparison to my abroad love life. But you know what Lizzie? You can suck it! You were supposed to prepare me for situations like this, but you led me totally astray. Disney Channel, you should have a TV show based on my life. On second thought, actually, it would have to be on Bravo or MTV. It would not be appropriate for your audience – unless little girls want a rude awakening that boys can really suck sometimes.

Image via and and via Allie Tsuchiya.

Love & Romance, Satire

We Know What Kind of Rich People Sex You Have Based on Your Canada Goose Jacket

February 17, 2017

Don’t ask how; we just ~know~

PBI Chilliwack Bomber:

Uninspired cowgirl after he’s had a long day out on the yacht.

Chelsea Parka: 

Some spontaneous doggy style while the maid looks after the kids.

Expedition Parka:

Quasi-outdoor sex after a long night in front of your Brookstone electric fire pit.

Heatherton Parka: 

Half-assed spooning after the wine tasting failed to reignite the spark.

Langford Parka:

Shower sex chock-full of cussing when the shampoo bottle falls on your little toe.

Shelburne Parka:

Hot and heavy against the wall where you’re thinking about some exposed brick.

Maitland Parka:

Post-polo anal that will never happen again.

Kensington Parka Fusion Fit:

A joyous romp before the matinee.

Chateau Parka:

Missionary with the lights off to avoid looking at the haunting painting of a pointy-breasted lady you won at an auction.

Rowan Parka: 

Raw doggin it in the back of the Lexus after slapping on the third “My child is an honors student at Sparrow Meadow Academy” bumper sticker.

Banff Parka: 

Giving oral in a lake house with a vast array of wall-mounted animal heads that will look upon this deed with neither approval nor damnation.

Victoria Parka:


In a closet at the country club during your old friend Sylvia’s charity gala.

Burnett Jacket:

Some conciliatory hand stuff when your bonus was only 10% more than last year.

Trillium Parka:

Receiving oral in a lake house while trying not to think about the dead-eyed stares of the wall-mounted animal heads and their collective air of chilling dispassion.

Selkirk Parka:

A quick bonk after you’ve made that reservation for 7:30 pm.

 

Did we get it right? Let us know in the comments!

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