Imagine yourself getting hot & heaving with a guy you really like. Sure you’ve only known each other for less than 24 hours, but the compatibility seems great so far. In the back of your mind, you think this could lead to something special. You’re taking his pants off. You see his uncircumcised dick. What the fuck do you do now?
Whatever. I keep wet naps in my purse.
How do you feel about Eat, Pray, Love? The book, the movie, the phenomenon, the subsequent Newsweek human interest stories?
I resent the implication that I need to feel anything at all for Eat, Pray, Love.
Elizabeth Gilbert wrote a breezy little memoir that got anointed by Oprah, and now it’s a lifestyle brand for spiritually confused housewives. So what? She cashed in on her mid-life crisis. Good for her, but don’t expect me to connect with any of that curry flavored bullshit.
I’ll give her some credit for not leading an unexamined life, but a journey of personal discovery is only as fascinating as the person who makes it. I have no interest in listening to a narcissistic bore come to terms with her own mediocrity, regardless of how exotic the locale.
Then again, I’m not riddled with latent guilt for living in a walled garden of privilege, and I don’t need to indulge in world travel to discover that I’m not the center of the fucking universe.
you shouldn’t be such a bitch about grammar. only uppity 15 year old ‘gifted’ girls who reblog harry potter do that. as long as one is intelligible, whatever dude. some of the greatest writers of all time have ignored many facets of grammar. it doesn’t make you an idiot. it just means you are more right-brained, and those people are better writers anyways. grammar is the most mathematical and lifeless part of language. essential, yes, but getting on everyone’s ass about petty grammatical things just shows what an insecure little bully YOU are. have fun with your harry potter, sweet cheeks
I don’t know who’s filling the right side of your brain with this lazy bullshit, but starting your sentences with lowercase letters does not make you ee cummings.
Great writers can ignore grammar because they know it in the first place, and a condescending opinion on top of a shitty attitude isn’t evidence that you know anything at all.
This isn’t about rules. Fuck the rules. This is about fundamental beauty inherent in the system. If you want to deconstruct the language in furtherance of personal expression, by all means, I’ll give you a poetic license to kill, but don’t piss on me and tell me it’s raining.
I can tell the difference between a deliberate and meaningful manipulation of words and the ramblings of some half-retarded teenager who wouldn’t know where to stick an apostrophe unless I lubed it up and put it in myself.
This shit isn’t petty. I’m not walking around with a red pen and a stick up my ass. People write to me for help with their problems, and if I’m pointing out that they can’t string a sentence together, it’s for a reason.
Mastery of language is the primary indication of intelligence, education, and grace, and the inability to effectively communicate is at the core of pretty much all the mental anguish we inflict on ourselves.
Just being intelligible isn’t enough. Style matters. Make all the excuses you want, but whether it’s on paper or on the street, if you come at me all sloppy, I’m not gonna respect you.
I’ve got standards, motherfucker.
I’m a freshman at an incredibly liberal, change-the-world, dissolve-social-norms kind of school. It was my first choice and I was really excited when I got in. I was really excited when I got the financial aid. I was really excited all summer and I was really excited for the last three weeks, since I’ve been here. Today I found myself wishing I was “grown up”, married, two-kids-and-a-dog style, living in the suburbs. I’ve never wanted that in my life. What’s going on?
Your wish thinking shifted because the novelty of freshman week just wore off and you realized how boring the next four years are going to be stuck in the woods of either Oregon or Vermont staring at the same eight hundred pasty white and pierced faces.
You’re fantasizing about life in the real world. Well, not the actual real world, more like a mayonnaise and Volvo version of purgatory that includes mythical notions of job security and home ownership.
It’s probably a defense mechanism. Now that the shine is off the apple, you’re getting a taste of the cognitive dissonance that occurs by going into well over a hundred thousand dollars of personal debt for what is essentially glorified summer camp for bookish hippies.
I’m not saying that you should’ve taken the free ride at the state university, but hey, a hundred grand buys a lot of khakis.
Do you really think accepting gifts is okay even when you know they’re being used to buy a way into your affections?
It’s not just a dating thing either. I’ve had a casual acquaintances load me with expensive presents when they think (correctly) that I’m not really bonding with them, just to keep me from wandering off. If I refuse them, I’m rude, and if I accept them, they’ll get all butthurty when I still don’t want to pursue a friendship/give them head. The obvious answer is to balance the scales by giving them something equally expensive, but that just ends up with both of us having too much random junk we didn’t even want in the first place. (Besides, I can’t always afford an equally valuable present.) It’s a dilemma, especially since trying to discuss this barter aspect of gift-giving makes people go “you know SOME people just LIKE bringing others joy”, which I believe is a genuine sentiment, but false at the same time; you may not notice that you expected affection and gratitude in return until you notice you’re not getting it.
Gifts are sometimes used as a form of emotional extortion and the person receiving them can only either submit to being obligated, or be rude, no other options, and that’s fucked up.
Submit to being obligated? Ugh. Girls who are afraid of being rude in the face of emotional extortion drive me fucking crazy. Quit spilling your victim mentality all over the social contract. Stand your ground, you weak ass bitch.
Accepting a gift never obligates you. If it does, then it wasn’t a gift. It was either a form of payment or a bribe. You need to be smart enough to know the difference and strong enough not to put up with that kind of shit.
If a man thinks he can buy his way into my affections with expensive gifts, he will find that he is sadly mistaken. Will I accept his gifts? Hell yes. Will I feel obligated in any way? Hell no.
Eventually, he’ll take the hint and stop treating me like an investment commodity or he’ll confront me with an explicit expectation of sexual favors. In either case, he’ll find out the hard way that I’m not for sale.
Let him get all butthurt. Good. He should be. Fuck him for trying to buy me in the first place. I’m not saying you gotta do it my way, but at least have the brass to shut down emotional extortion.
Truth is, I don’t want to be the one getting hurt. He is telling me to enjoy the presence. He also told me he wants to grow old with me.
I am confused.
He is telling you to enjoy the present, not the presence.
Of course you’re confused. You’re not very bright.
I’m sixteen and have never had a real relationship, just a bunch of mild drunken hook-ups. I don’t want to put time and effort into someone I’m not crazy about, but I’m afraid that when I actually have relationships, I’m always going to be the person who likes the other slightly more. Also, I have crushes on people I don’t know very well, so I can construct their personality into something I like better. And then I always find out that they’re assholes. Fix me?
You’re not broken. You’re sixteen.
All that shit you’re feeling is right on schedule, and the fact that you’re self-aware about it means you’re ahead of the game.
Don’t worry. One day, you’ll be able to spot assholes before you crush on them.
In the meantime, try not to think in terms of relationships. Just enjoy the company of interesting and respectful boys and/or girls.
I’m 19 and i’m seeing this guy, but all we do is fuck. We’ve been dating for about a month and he knows nothing about me. Whenever we hang out all we do is have sex and then he sort of ignores me until I have to leave and then begs me to stay. The fucked up part is that he told me that he loved me about 3 weeks into the relationship (I don’t believe him). What’s this guys deal?
He’s an emotionally crippled piece of meat. Then again, so are you.
Stay off television and on birth control.
Good luck.
I started dating a guy recently. From OKCupid. We get along well, we have similar interests, values and senses of humor. Dates have been fun! The first one was awesome! The second was good! Last night was…good at dinner, sort of. And he gave me a jokey gift. I hate when guys give gifts early on. I forgot it in his car…
The main thing: his apartment is NASTY. Not that he’s a slob; the apartment itself is gross. It smells bad. His room smells bad and his bedcovers…I just don’t want to get near them. Complete turn-off. He’s allergic to cats and can’t spend time at my place. Also he’s shorter than me. And skinny. And has a weird comedy act he is really invested in. Maybe it’s not weird and actually genius but I don’t want to get roped into supporting him/it. Not that he would rope me into it. I just know it would become a Thing. I don’t have any perspective on this guy other than my own.
This blows. Dating blows.
You have similar interests, values, and senses of humor? No you don’t. Not even a little bit. You two are totally incompatible, and you’re an idiot for not spotting it within the first five minutes.
You don’t get his comedy. He can’t stand your cat. Neither of you can enter the other’s personal space without your eyes watering. What the fuck are you doing making it to date three with this guy?
Quit being so fucking goal oriented with your dating. Quit feeling like failure is implied when shit doesn’t work out with someone you met on the internet. It’s perfectly fine if you want to go window shopping on OKCupid, but that process is not to be taken seriously.
Also, quit whining and learn how to accept a gift. It’s exactly like accepting a compliment. Regardless of how awkward or inappropriate, just look him in the eye, say thank you, and move on.
I wish I was a sociopath. Every day, something happens in my life that makes me feel guilt or shame…and most of the time they’re small things like accidentally stepping on someone’s foot after losing balance in the subway. But they follow me around all day, it’s so obnoxious! Afterwards, I always wish that I could somehow throw my conscience out the window while still having an idea of what is and is not socially acceptable. Do you happen to know any ways to dissolve one’s concience/ unleash the inner sociopath?
You’re asking to give up your soul in exchange for a spine. That’s some neo-Faustian bullshit right there. What a horrible and tragic idea. Dissolving your conscience is no path to happiness, and I’m afraid you’ve grossly misinterpreted what it means to have antisocial personality disorder.
The excessive guilt you feel isn’t a product of an overly active conscience. It’s a product of an underdeveloped self image.
You’re asking to become an evil shell of a human being when really all you need is a few friendly lessons in not giving a fuck. Adjust your knobs. Turn down the remorse. Turn up the temerity. Leave your conscience right where it is.
It’s perfectly fine to feel momentary guilt for stepping on someone’s foot, but have enough faith in yourself to know that a quick smile and an “Oops, sorry!” is all that’s required to restore the karmic balance.
Someone should have told you this before now, but you have just as much right to make your way through the world as everyone else.
You are an equal to all around you.