I bought myself a little present: a plane ticket for an east coast vacation this fall.
A Lady is east-coasterly.
I believe the formal statement we both issued regarding this event was "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!", accompanied by jazz hands.
8.28.2010
8.20.2010
how to break up
More in the "advice you did not ask us for" column!
Now, it's highly likely that if one successfully dates us, there may be the eventual part where one must also end the relationship. (If not, after all, we'd have been partnered off at age sixteen or so, and that's a horrifying thought.) (You never know, though! --A Lady)
From D:
I'm lucky enough to have no true horror stories of breakups gone awry, so my contribution is largely a "how do to this right" series of suggestions.
I will admit that I did pull one of the worst breakup moves of all time, though. I broke up with someone via email. I know. I'm ashamed. Long list of excuses, (international long-distance, lacking a phone, the both of us passive-aggressively not signing into Skype, etc.), but: don't do that, kids. You look like an asshole, and for good reason. Breakups should be in person, or at the very very least, via phone in case of extreme long-distance situations.
Things that make a good breakup: be an adult. Don't throw tantrums. Realize that a bit of distance goes a long way towards being civil. Occasional check-ins via email can be nice, but only if they're reciprocated. Otherwise, that's just creepy and desperate.
Mutual friends remain mutual friends. And if you can't say something nice about the ex to the mutual friends, say nothing. Bitching and kvetching should be limited to the inner circle of confidantes, lest you come off as unstable.
And for the love of god, if you don't de-friend on Facebook (which you might want to do, depending on the situation), at the very least hide the other person's status updates and posts and such from your feed. It's for your own good. Under no circumstances should your first post-breakup communication come via Facebook: email or text message is acceptable, writing on the ex's Facebook wall is just icky.
Oh, and note that any of the above bits of advice are absolutely rendered moot if the breakup was instigated by some egregious offense such as being cheated upon or otherwise lied to. In those situations, you have my blessing to lash out as much as you desire. Go ahead, burn the former paramour's favorite shirt and donate all their books to Goodwill and commence with the trash-talking. No one will blame you.
And now, my turn. "Me" being A Lady. I will contribute the "how not to break up with us" part of this, because wow, do I know how to pick 'em. Do not:
Wait wait. Edit. Sorry. Have had the obvious pointed out to me. There's just one good rule for how not to break up with me: do not be a creepy stalker, because it keeps me from being amusing on the Internet. Which I live for.
Now, it's highly likely that if one successfully dates us, there may be the eventual part where one must also end the relationship. (If not, after all, we'd have been partnered off at age sixteen or so, and that's a horrifying thought.) (You never know, though! --A Lady)
From D:
I'm lucky enough to have no true horror stories of breakups gone awry, so my contribution is largely a "how do to this right" series of suggestions.
I will admit that I did pull one of the worst breakup moves of all time, though. I broke up with someone via email. I know. I'm ashamed. Long list of excuses, (international long-distance, lacking a phone, the both of us passive-aggressively not signing into Skype, etc.), but: don't do that, kids. You look like an asshole, and for good reason. Breakups should be in person, or at the very very least, via phone in case of extreme long-distance situations.
Things that make a good breakup: be an adult. Don't throw tantrums. Realize that a bit of distance goes a long way towards being civil. Occasional check-ins via email can be nice, but only if they're reciprocated. Otherwise, that's just creepy and desperate.
Mutual friends remain mutual friends. And if you can't say something nice about the ex to the mutual friends, say nothing. Bitching and kvetching should be limited to the inner circle of confidantes, lest you come off as unstable.
And for the love of god, if you don't de-friend on Facebook (which you might want to do, depending on the situation), at the very least hide the other person's status updates and posts and such from your feed. It's for your own good. Under no circumstances should your first post-breakup communication come via Facebook: email or text message is acceptable, writing on the ex's Facebook wall is just icky.
Oh, and note that any of the above bits of advice are absolutely rendered moot if the breakup was instigated by some egregious offense such as being cheated upon or otherwise lied to. In those situations, you have my blessing to lash out as much as you desire. Go ahead, burn the former paramour's favorite shirt and donate all their books to Goodwill and commence with the trash-talking. No one will blame you.
And now, my turn. "Me" being A Lady. I will contribute the "how not to break up with us" part of this, because wow, do I know how to pick 'em. Do not:
Wait wait. Edit. Sorry. Have had the obvious pointed out to me. There's just one good rule for how not to break up with me: do not be a creepy stalker, because it keeps me from being amusing on the Internet. Which I live for.
8.19.2010
prefatory posturing
Our warm-up round before last week's Seamless viewing:
D: Ok, glass of bourbon in hand, Netflix open.
D: Ok, glass of bourbon in hand, Netflix open.
A Lady: K, let me pull up the moooovie
Oops just typed in "samless"
D: Hee
A Lady: (The new Kate Winslet vehicle.)
(HAR)
D: (Sean Penn's career minus one movie.)
A Lady: Oh god I can't. That last one finished it.
Oh wait.
(One Boring Summer.)
D: You win. My brain is too tired to pun.
A Lady: Firefox did not appreciate my wit: everything crashed.
D: Judgey bastard.
8.13.2010
unsustainable
A Lady has (um, had) an online shopping moratorium. I have a dating moratorium, spurred by a series of underwhelming dates and the realization that I’d rather go to yoga class/ read a book (currently: Hugh Laurie’s The Gun Seller, recommended by Helen)/ make dinner with my friends than go forth and date.
My plan is met with, shall we say, skepticism.D: No, seriously, I am committed to this DATING MORATORIUM. I am sticking with this. The only dates I have this month are hanging-out-with-my-awesome-
Miss North Star: How long will the moratorium stand?
D: Indefinitely. I vote through at least November.
Miss North Star: So… September?
D: Hush!
Miss North Star: You know I’m right.
D: No! I had only started doing the all-dating-all-the-time thing as of, like, this March. And that only really lasted through June. It was tiring.
Miss North Star: I'm not saying you'll go back to dating all the time…
D: Four months on, four months off. Like that farming thing where you let the land lie dormant for a while. It's good for it. Or something. I don’t know, I don’t have farmer cred.
Miss North Star: Right. Sure.
I think it's a load. I'm just going to deplete the nutrients in my soil until it's dry and desperate.
D: Ha.
Miss North Star: And then some nasty weed will take hold. And I'll get married to it.
8.11.2010
add to cart
For the record, A Lady's moratorium on online shopping lasted all of eight days. She claims that it was a necessity-purchase to replace underthings that were eaten by a dog.
In that case, every single thing I buy online is a necessity purchase to replace things that were destroyed by... um, by not having them yet. Yes. Like that.
In that case, every single thing I buy online is a necessity purchase to replace things that were destroyed by... um, by not having them yet. Yes. Like that.
how to date us
“But I did not ask you about this, you trollops,” you say. Scroll down to the bottom of the post, note the tag “advice you did not ask us for," and just go with it.
Good Ideas/Bad Ideas for Dating D
Making an effort is required. And by “making an effort”, I mean that one must take the trouble to make plans in advance, and not just assuming that a last-minute text message is going to cause me to drop whatever plans I already have and make myself available to you. Spontaneity is cute within reason, but if you are unable to formulate a plan that includes a date, time, and location, I am going to be unable to go out with you. I joke about my color-coded calendar, but really: I have an absurdly anal-retentive color-coded calendar, and it fills up with Stuff.
Making an effort also includes things like wearing clean clothes, turning off the volume on your phone unless you have some legitimately pressing situation requiring your availability (Is your best friend due to birth a child soon? That counts. Are you waiting to see if your friends are doing anything fun tonight? That does not count; please go fuck yourself), and making me brunch. I am a total sucker for brunch.
I cannot believe that I’ve just had to clarify that one should wear clean clothes and not continually check one’s phone on a date. Fucking basic, right? You would hope so, but apparently you would be mistaken.
Flowers are also a Really Good Idea. Not stuffy Floral Arrangements, though, because those are formal and kind of weird me out: the last time I got Romantical Flowers the card said “happy one-month anniversary”, which caused me to freak out and drive to another state that night to escape the suffocating awkwardness. But: a peony in a jelly jar? I am guaranteed to adore it.
Apparently if you make me brunch and hand me a peony, I will go into a swoon.
I send pretty clear signals, really: if I make out with you at the bar/ on the street/ while hailing a cab, I like you. If I do not, well, you're going home alone.
Good Ideas/Bad Ideas for Dating A Lady
I favor tulips and calla lilies over peonies, but, like D says, simpler is better. The making an effort bit is, for me, a moot point: if I've agreed to go out with you or have asked you out, I'll already have noted that you are, in fact, making an effort.
Spontaneity is always charming, but only in a "Ooh, you didn't have to bring me coffee on your break!" kind of way. I like plans: they are something to anticipate and show that the other person is looking forward to the next time they see you as much as you are. If you call me up (NB: I hate the phone) after a week of silence and want me to do something three hours later, I will say No, on principle.
Be an adventurous eater and drinker. Make eye contact. Keep up with my horrible attempts at banter. Have rolled-up shirt-sleeves. It's okay to be a little possessive, too, if that's your thing. If you know any old school chivalry (which side of the sidewalk to occupy, whether you should let a lady walk ahead or behind you, standing when she leaves the table, etc.), that's pretty awesome. (Caveat: don't suddenly try to start putting these things in action if you haven't been doing it forever. I wish I were kidding, but I've been knocked aside and jostled by people trying to get me on the right side of the sidewalk. Not cool. Don't call attention to your manners, ever.) If you know how to partner dance and lead well, that's even better.
If you help me on with my coat, I'll go home with you immediately: you'll have just earned the James Brown Seal of Approval.
Good Ideas/Bad Ideas for Dating D
Making an effort is required. And by “making an effort”, I mean that one must take the trouble to make plans in advance, and not just assuming that a last-minute text message is going to cause me to drop whatever plans I already have and make myself available to you. Spontaneity is cute within reason, but if you are unable to formulate a plan that includes a date, time, and location, I am going to be unable to go out with you. I joke about my color-coded calendar, but really: I have an absurdly anal-retentive color-coded calendar, and it fills up with Stuff.
Making an effort also includes things like wearing clean clothes, turning off the volume on your phone unless you have some legitimately pressing situation requiring your availability (Is your best friend due to birth a child soon? That counts. Are you waiting to see if your friends are doing anything fun tonight? That does not count; please go fuck yourself), and making me brunch. I am a total sucker for brunch.
I cannot believe that I’ve just had to clarify that one should wear clean clothes and not continually check one’s phone on a date. Fucking basic, right? You would hope so, but apparently you would be mistaken.
Flowers are also a Really Good Idea. Not stuffy Floral Arrangements, though, because those are formal and kind of weird me out: the last time I got Romantical Flowers the card said “happy one-month anniversary”, which caused me to freak out and drive to another state that night to escape the suffocating awkwardness. But: a peony in a jelly jar? I am guaranteed to adore it.
Apparently if you make me brunch and hand me a peony, I will go into a swoon.
I send pretty clear signals, really: if I make out with you at the bar/ on the street/ while hailing a cab, I like you. If I do not, well, you're going home alone.
Good Ideas/Bad Ideas for Dating A Lady
I favor tulips and calla lilies over peonies, but, like D says, simpler is better. The making an effort bit is, for me, a moot point: if I've agreed to go out with you or have asked you out, I'll already have noted that you are, in fact, making an effort.
Spontaneity is always charming, but only in a "Ooh, you didn't have to bring me coffee on your break!" kind of way. I like plans: they are something to anticipate and show that the other person is looking forward to the next time they see you as much as you are. If you call me up (NB: I hate the phone) after a week of silence and want me to do something three hours later, I will say No, on principle.
Be an adventurous eater and drinker. Make eye contact. Keep up with my horrible attempts at banter. Have rolled-up shirt-sleeves. It's okay to be a little possessive, too, if that's your thing. If you know any old school chivalry (which side of the sidewalk to occupy, whether you should let a lady walk ahead or behind you, standing when she leaves the table, etc.), that's pretty awesome. (Caveat: don't suddenly try to start putting these things in action if you haven't been doing it forever. I wish I were kidding, but I've been knocked aside and jostled by people trying to get me on the right side of the sidewalk. Not cool. Don't call attention to your manners, ever.) If you know how to partner dance and lead well, that's even better.
If you help me on with my coat, I'll go home with you immediately: you'll have just earned the James Brown Seal of Approval.
8.10.2010
let's go to the movies
Selections from our inadvertent liveblogging of “Seamless” while on gchat. I can think of few better ways to spend a Monday night than this.
D: After this day, a movie diversion is so welcome.
A Lady: Oh, I have a tub of watermelon at the ready.
D: I suggest adding vodka. Mmm, watermelon. Mmm, booze.
A Lady: Ahahaha I love this intro: "retired, bought out, retired, ABOUT TO DIE." Poor Mr. de la Renta.
Also: I live for Anna's impatient, post-speech headcocks.
D: Anna's head says "I made a point there, motherfucker.”
A Lady: True story: I hate that gay men dress me, or have any say in what I wear.
D: I want ladies to dress me. They get it.
Well, and Alber.
A Lady: And Raf.
Have I mentioned how fucking sick I am of Marc Jacobs? I get it: bows. dots. ugh.
I can't even bring myself to wear stuff of his that I already own.
Oh, P.S., did you see that? Barneys.
No apostrophe.
TAKE NOTE, READERS.
(I have few pet peeves. That is a major one.)
D: Snob approved.
A Lady: Wait, does she go by Doo.ri? The period included? Like Jennifer 8. Lee?
D: Doo.ri and Jennifer 8. Lee: they have exceeded us in pretension.
(I find it hilare that I am eating pita chips/covered in pita crumbs while watching a movie about high fashion.)
A Lady: (I wish I had a bag of baked cheetos.)
D: Oh duuuude. We should've planned ahead for that.
(Photos from the 2004 CFDA spread in Vogue are on the screen)
A Lady: do you remember any of these pics? Because I do.
D: Poor Peter Som, relegated to the background of his own shoot.
A Lady: Tom Ford trying to figure out how to say "Schouler"? Amazebomb.
D: Proenza Schouler boys: STOP SAYING CUTE
A Lady: KYUTE
D: STOP SAYING HOT
A Lady: "They fit so hot!"
D: Pet peeve. I fucking hate "cute".
A Lady: "KEEYUUUUTE"
"Why am I not...you know...enjoying my freaking brioche?"
D: "WHY AM I NOT ENJOYING MY FREAKING BRIOCHE?"
Hehehehehe.
A Lady: JINX!
Um, so: Daria. Do you remember the president of the fashion club?
D: ZOMG YES
A Lady: …and have you heard her voice yet in this movie?
Because I have. IN A MAN.
“I. Am. The president. Of. The fashion club.”
D: KEYUUUUUTE!
A Lady: HOTTTTT!
D: After this day, a movie diversion is so welcome.
A Lady: Oh, I have a tub of watermelon at the ready.
D: I suggest adding vodka. Mmm, watermelon. Mmm, booze.
A Lady: Ahahaha I love this intro: "retired, bought out, retired, ABOUT TO DIE." Poor Mr. de la Renta.
Also: I live for Anna's impatient, post-speech headcocks.
D: Anna's head says "I made a point there, motherfucker.”
A Lady: True story: I hate that gay men dress me, or have any say in what I wear.
D: I want ladies to dress me. They get it.
Well, and Alber.
A Lady: And Raf.
Have I mentioned how fucking sick I am of Marc Jacobs? I get it: bows. dots. ugh.
I can't even bring myself to wear stuff of his that I already own.
Oh, P.S., did you see that? Barneys.
No apostrophe.
TAKE NOTE, READERS.
(I have few pet peeves. That is a major one.)
D: Snob approved.
A Lady: Wait, does she go by Doo.ri? The period included? Like Jennifer 8. Lee?
D: Doo.ri and Jennifer 8. Lee: they have exceeded us in pretension.
(I find it hilare that I am eating pita chips/covered in pita crumbs while watching a movie about high fashion.)
A Lady: (I wish I had a bag of baked cheetos.)
D: Oh duuuude. We should've planned ahead for that.
(Photos from the 2004 CFDA spread in Vogue are on the screen)
A Lady: do you remember any of these pics? Because I do.
D: Poor Peter Som, relegated to the background of his own shoot.
A Lady: Tom Ford trying to figure out how to say "Schouler"? Amazebomb.
D: Proenza Schouler boys: STOP SAYING CUTE
A Lady: KYUTE
D: STOP SAYING HOT
A Lady: "They fit so hot!"
D: Pet peeve. I fucking hate "cute".
A Lady: "KEEYUUUUTE"
"Why am I not...you know...enjoying my freaking brioche?"
D: "WHY AM I NOT ENJOYING MY FREAKING BRIOCHE?"
Hehehehehe.
A Lady: JINX!
Um, so: Daria. Do you remember the president of the fashion club?
D: ZOMG YES
A Lady: …and have you heard her voice yet in this movie?
Because I have. IN A MAN.
“I. Am. The president. Of. The fashion club.”
D: KEYUUUUUTE!
A Lady: HOTTTTT!
8.04.2010
words to live by
D: Hmmm. C.A. is texting.
A Lady: ?
D: Wants to go out again. I can't be arsed to reply promptly.
A Lady: So that's a no.
D: ...but I do need to get out.
A Lady: Dude. Not that much.
D: Sigh. Standards are low.
But maybe not that low.
Dunno. I have no squishy-stomach feelings for him
A Lady: That's a No, dude.
D: Word.
Who knew! Apparently I have standards.
A Lady: This is a good thing
D: I suppose.
Decent human being underneath it all, perhaps.
D: I'll likely run into him this weekend, so I have to play nice-ish til then.A Lady: ?
D: Wants to go out again. I can't be arsed to reply promptly.
A Lady: So that's a no.
D: ...but I do need to get out.
A Lady: Dude. Not that much.
D: Sigh. Standards are low.
But maybe not that low.
Dunno. I have no squishy-stomach feelings for him
A Lady: That's a No, dude.
D: Word.
Who knew! Apparently I have standards.
A Lady: This is a good thing
D: I suppose.
Decent human being underneath it all, perhaps.
A Lady: How nice?
D: Not THAT nice. Just return an occasional text, etc., rather than be a total dick and just ignore him completely.
A Lady: You are a better person than I am.
D: Well, I'm certain to run into him.
A Lady: So is he trying to date you, or just... ?
D: Dunno. He's making a half-assed effort in either case.
A Lady: Bizarre. I don't get that.
Either do it or don't.
D: I know. Either go full-on or just stfu.
A Lady: Heh. Life Wisdom.
D: That doesn't seem to be a crazy equation, non?D: Not THAT nice. Just return an occasional text, etc., rather than be a total dick and just ignore him completely.
A Lady: You are a better person than I am.
D: Well, I'm certain to run into him.
A Lady: So is he trying to date you, or just... ?
D: Dunno. He's making a half-assed effort in either case.
A Lady: Bizarre. I don't get that.
Either do it or don't.
D: I know. Either go full-on or just stfu.
A Lady: Heh. Life Wisdom.
…
D: Aha! Just found out C.A. will NOT be around this weekend. Avoided!
A Lady: Oh word.
D: Commence ignoring him!
A Lady: Clearly you were really into this.
D: If he cannot be bothered to make ANY EFFORT AT ALL... neither can I.
A Lady: We have self-respect.
D: Well, sometimes.
Sometimes I just have inertia.
8.02.2010
best of intentions
A Lady: I am going on a moratorium: no shopping for clothes.
D: HAH. Fat fucking chance. You shop better than anyone. That would be like me saying, “I’m becoming vegan”.
A Lady: Nono, for serious. I'm not going to buy – wait, okay – I'm not going to buy anything ONLINE for a year. That should keep me in check.
D: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
A Lady: What?
D: This will never happen, L.
A Lady: Dude! I am so serious!
D: The road to hell, etc.
A Lady: That's it. C'est tout.
…
Okay, fine, not a year. Until the December sales.
D: I give it three months.
A Lady: Nono, December sales. Because that's how I divide my year: retail clearance calendars. The summer sales are just starting. I'm on hiatus until post-christmas.
D: December is a stretch goal, but it's a goal.
A Lady: Goals: I has them.
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