February 16, 2011


So just love, make mistakes, and have wonderful times, but never second guess who you are, where you have been, and most importantly, where it is you are going.


So just love, make mistakes, and have wonderful times, but never second guess who you are, where you have been, and most importantly, where it is you are going.


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February 20, 2011

Breathe deep. Think Raptor Party.

Breathe deep. Think Raptor Party.


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October 12, 2011

I’m Just Giving The Dog A Bone: The Men’s Guide To Flirting

So you think you can flirt, huh? I have news for you, buddy— you can always improve on that game, and just like how you begged until your parents sent you to basketball camp in middle school so that you could improve that 3-point shot of yours, I’m here by popular demand to tell you where you’re slacking on the job while trying to pick up chicks. So, here it is, 5 quick, easy tips for sneakily getting on the better, phone-number-giving side of the fairer sex. Use them for good, my boys, not evil. After all— Gandalf is watching.

- Be Aggressive, B.E AGGRESSIVE:

This is the cautionary tale of one would-be suitor gone horrible wrong:

Sometimes, being aggressive is a good thing, like in rugby and fencing and chess and discount sales in Filene’s Basement. But sometimes, it’s not. Persistence isn’t always the best tactic. One over-enthusiastic gent tracked me down on Facebook— and Twitter. He tried friending me— 3 times in 2 days when I didn’t accept fast enough for his liking. He messaged me. He poked me. It was the electronic equivalent of a grade-school kid standing on his blue plastic chair, waving his arms over his head, screaming, “Pick me! Pick me! Pick me!” I still haven’t accepted his request. Why? Because there’s aggressive, and then there’s AGGRESSIVE. And…desperation has never been sexy. Doesn’t matter if you’re XY or XX— it’s a big NO, and the reek of it permeates everything you do. We will know when you’re desperate. Your friends, parents, coworkers, classmates, postal worker, hair dresser, and the entirety of Facebook will know when you are desperate. It shows. So get a leash on that beast. Down, boy.

- “E” Is For Effort. Also, Egotistical Eunuchs End Up Eating Alone:

I’ve had guys tell me, “Come down to see me when you’re on your break.” This is bad. If you’re the one who wants to see me, then you can come to me. A girl with options never goes out of her way for a man; she’ll let him come to her, if he wants to. Nothing tells a girl faster if a guy is really serious about her or not by how much effort he puts into seeing her. And by this age, we girls should have stopped being delusional and making excuses for lazy asses and should know how much effort shown constitutes a viable man and a viable relationship. I know. If it isn’t calling, isn’t visiting, isn’t writing, and isn’t planning, it ain’t yo’ boyfran, gurrrrrrl. And kind sirs, if you are not actively walking your ass over to see her, she’s going to find someone else who WILL, because she ain’t that desperate yet for yo’ lazy ass. Again, desperation is never sexy.


Always remember: A little goes a long way, if your “little”— time, effort, energy, affection, money, passion— is quality. I’ve always preferred my men a little aloof— it helps keep the magic going. My last S.O waited until Date #5 to finally kiss me; the entirety of dates 1-4 I was constantly wondering what was going on, and the anticipation made me sparkle even more than the average girl trying to look good on a date does because I kept working for it. But the long-awaited kiss was so good, it was worth the wait. And you know what? All that time spent in good, intelligent conversation, learning each other’s likes and dislikes, food and movie preferences before swapping spit made us both sure that we liked the other— more than just a first date could have foreseen. They were quality dates. It was a quality first kiss. We were sure that the other was a quality person. Much better than a really awkward make-out session straddling the cup-holders in his car’s front seat post first-date beers would have been. A win all-around.

- How To Scabbard Your Sword— What Women Want:

Sorry, this isn’t about sex. I just thought that play on words would grab your attention for what will probably be for most of you the hardest concept to grasp. (Unlike grasping other things.) This is about what all women want. This is the secret that lands the nerdy guys the perfect 10s. This is the Rosetta Stone for understanding women. Cracking this is like cracking a Rubix Cube. So I don’t want to have to sit here and waits through eons of evolution for you guys to finally get it. Which is why I’m just going to come right out and say it to you:

Women just want to be saved. Or, at the very least, we want a partner in crime.

You know how in Million Dollar Baby, Hillary Swank kicked major ass? It was because Clint Eastwood was there in her corner, and he had her back. All women want a knight…white, black, red, or purple, it doesn’t matter to us. What matters is that we all want a champion— someone who is willing to go forth and do battle for us, whether it’s getting us that extra dollar off our soft pretzel at the mall that the salesgirl somehow forgot to credit us, or sticking up to other people to defend us. Because we’re worth it. As Frances Hodgson Burnett wrote, every girl is a princess, whether she looks like it or acts like it or not. If I do something, if I say something, you best believe I do it with 110% conviction, and all I want— and what I deserve— is to have someone there who will stand next to me and uphold those words and those actions.

This is where a guy riding up on his high horse comes in. I don’t need to be questioned anymore. I shouldn’t have to explain myself. What I want, what I need— what all women need— is someone as strong and courageous and faithful as I am to stand next to me and be there for me to lean on when I’m too tired to lead the charge, and have them stand up to the job. So be a stand-up guy. If you say something, follow through. Never make any promises you can’t keep; don’t lie. If you know something wrong is happening, stop it. If you see something unfair, call people on it. In return, I promise that any woman worth that title and her salt will be doing the same for you, because if you have my back, and I have yours, nothing in life will ever be able to sneak up on us and scare the crap out of us. THAT is what women find most sexy of all— reliability, safety, and partnership.

- Getting The Big N.O, or, Failure For Champions:

Then again, you could do everything right and still be turned down. It’s a woman’s prerogative to be fickle. Maybe she’s just gotten out of a bad relationship, or isn’t over her ex yet. Maybe she’s interested in someone else and doesn’t want to lead you on and waste your time. Maybe you’re just not her “type”…you can’t help that, but chances are you definitely will be someone else’s. Or maybe she’s just enjoying being single right now, and doesn’t want to think about getting involved with men or dating. But don’t let this dissuade you from trying again with a different girl— practice makes perfect, after all. Take a page from the Casanova-like diaries of the men I met while I was in Italy— with all the “ciao, bella”-ing that was going on, and all the flat-out rejections from those “bella”s, I thought it was a wonder any Italians ever managed to procreate. But as my Food and Wine professor told his class of 18 American girls, “If you say it enough times, someone is bound to say ‘ciao’ back.” That’s how he landed his American wife while she was studying abroad. See? It works. If Giancarlo could do it, I have faith that you can, too. Now, get out there, and be someone’s knight in shining armor. Or, at least, take you car through the car wash and go pay for the cute lady in front of you’s espresso at the coffee shop tomorrow morning.

Buona fortuna!



- From SATCG.

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November 3, 2011

November 21, 2011

This Is A Girl’s Brain On Dating:

I’m about to give you some real, honest-to-God, lifted right from my phone’s inbox conversations that the rest of the female population will probably be eager to stone me to death for passing out, but, in the sake of better communication and understanding between the fairer and handsomer sex, I am willing to give out.

The background info goes something like this: An old manager aims to set me up with one of his friends. An arranged mall marriage is put into place. Like a young Indian couple, we meet briefly, once, waving at each other from across a crowded room. The moment is magical, because he is STUNNINGLY ATTRACTIVE for anyone’s standards, nonetheless a set up’s. He apparently likes what he sees, as well, because he hands his number down the line to me. I take 3 days of freaking out while trying the somehow obtain the courage to dial those 7 digits when, right on the eve of me sprouting some tremendous girl-balls, he calls first. BOOM. Done. Smitten. Lovely. Now, continue on to the next few days, and let’s see how the average female in her 20s reacts when under the pressure of meeting— and crushing on— someone she has just met. Moral of the story, boys: Don’t be scared to approach us, because look how fucking stupid liking you makes ME look. We’re all in this together. Just fucking CALL.

Day 1 Post-Meeting:

A legit text I sent to my oldest friend, searching for advice and sage words of wisdom-

Me: “I feel like I highly doubt that given 1 night of exposure, a 15-minute meeting, a half-hour phone call, and 2 days of texting [would equate to that sort of response from him]. Do guys get that excited over a girl so fast?…I just think he’s too incredibly attractive to go that gaga for me. He’s like, an 11 in my book.”

Caiti: "I mean, if girls go gaga that fast why can’t guys?"

Very true. I ask you now, gentlemen, if it is now obvious that I— and by proxy, all women— can instantly flip on the I Like You switch, do guys do it too? I mean, it’s not like I’m plotting our wedding together and diagramming the initials of our 10 kids yet; I just happen to think that you’re a decent human being and I wouldn’t really mind seeing you naked. Do you get genuinely interested by a new dating prospect? Is it as important as it is to us ladies? Do kiss and tell, pretty please!

Day 2:

“What if he doesn’t call me and I get stood up? What if I’m not as pretty as he thought I was when he saw me again yesterday? What if he thought I was a bitch because I was stressed at work?

…I don’t think you understand how good-looking he is.”

Caiti: “I don’t think you understand how good looking YOU are.”

"I love you. So much."

Worry then sets in. We start to doubt ourselves, second-guess our wardrobe options, and go scouring the internet and all of our old issues of Cosmopolitan for suitable, scintillating conversation starters. We become convinced we will be the ugliest, worst-dressed, most boring girl you will ever go out with, which will become obvious to you in the first 5 minutes of our date, and you will excuse yourself to the bathroom and crawl through its window to escape.

Day 3:

"Not a peep from him yet today. I have just buried my feelings in chicken McNuggets and a McFlurry SPECTACULARLY."

Our cell phone has now become an extension of our body. We sleep clutching it, and live in fear of the shower, where we will be separated from it, just in case you call or text. We eat. We eat a LOT, particularly of chocolate or comfort food varieties the likes of which are bound to settle on our hips and render us as branded Single For Life. We start cruising the pages of the local humane society’s website, looking for cats to adopt to get a jump-start on the process.

Day 4: 

I hate men; I’m becoming a nun. A lesbian nun. Goddammit, 


As Dorothy Parker bemoaned and rung her hands about in her iconic skit, “It’s ten minutes past seven. He said he would telephone at five o’clock. “I’ll call you at five, darling.” I think that’s where he said “darling.” I’m almost sure he said it there. I know he called me “darling” twice, and the other time was when he said good-by. “Good-by, darling.” He was busy, and he can’t say much in the office, but he called me “darling” twice. He couldn’t have minded my calling him up. I know you shouldn’t keep telephoning them—I know they don’t like that. When you do that they know you are thinking about them and wanting them, and that makes them hate you. But I hadn’t talked to him in three days-not in three days. And all I did was ask him how he was; it was just the way anybody might have called him up. He couldn’t have minded that. He couldn’t have thought I was bothering him. “No, of course you’re not,” he said. And he said he’d telephone me. He didn’t have to say that…PLEASE, God, let him telephone me now. Dear God, let him call me now. I won’t ask anything else of You, truly I won’t. It isn’t very much to ask. It would be so little to You, God, such a little, little thing. Only let him telephone now. Please, God. Please, please, please.

 See, it’s not just me. It’s this babe, too.

It’s my oldest friend, your oldest friend, your older sister, your mom when she was 23, and your Economics professor, probably still. It’s ALL women, and we would greatly, GREATLY appreciate if you stop playing this game with us.

I will admit that yes, I am a little bit of a man-eater. I have been known to tell my friends that I consider men like Pokemon…you’ve gotta catch ‘em all. I may have been mildly joking, but nonetheless, that gives you at least SOME insight as to how I feel.

Mildly joking.

But really, right now, getting a taste of my own medicine for the first time from a guy, I officially really, really hate The Game.


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January 4, 2012

Things Every Single Girl Must Have.

So we’re single again. Excellent. Now, buck up, buttercup, and take this pint of Chubby Hubby that I’m handing to you— now, don’t start tearing up again at the mention of the word “hubby”— correct your eyeliner smears, pull your Big Girl pants back up, and let’s talk about what’s next, and what you NEED to do, STAT:

1.) Every single girl MUST jot down some things, for posterity’s and her own sake. Now is a great time to make a list of the things you learned about yourself and your relationship habits during your now-defunct one, as well as to create a Wish List for your future dating endeavors. For example, here’s a few things that I jotted down in the past year of relationships that I’d learned post break-ups: I am an excellent cohabitator— living with someone of the opposite sex who I care about and want to impress brings about some of my more latent feminine talents (i.e— cooking, cleaning, actually folding my laundry and putting it away versus just throwing it all over the chair in the bedroom all willy-nilly). I don’t like it when a man keeps me waiting— if you say that you will be somewhere at a certain time, or will do something by a set deadline, a man best do it and follow through on his word, otherwise, I lose respect for him, and, as I know now…start walking. I’d LIKE to date either a musician or a chef next— as long as we’re playing Dating Bingo, I might as well start crossing off some more boxes on my card. I LIKE being taken care of— a mature, financially stable and conscious man is a MUST for me, because I need some help in those areas sometimes. Let your other half be your better half, as well— start searching for the sort of guys who compliment your weaknesses and bring out other good aspects of you. Take it from someone who knows— dating the same dead-beat, eternally immature Peter Pan-type just gets you nowhere; your relationships will always wind up in Neverland. And to make yourself want to love another man again, take stock of the things you have to thank your exes for: Such as, “Dear So-and-So, thank you for continuing to share your Netflix account with me even after we broke up. If you could keep sharing your movie suggestions based on our shared love of period English dramas with me, that is truly proof that our friendship, love, and mutual respect can continue on. That was really kind and generous of you, and really helped better my view of the male gender at that time,” or “Dear Man I Once Loved, though it takes the entire Eastern Seaboard between the two of us to keep us civil to one another, I really appreciate the fact that you still periodically check in with me to compare notes on our beloved shared favorite TV show. That’s really decent of you and keeps me from feeling like just another piece of ass,” and “Dear Ex-Lover, thank you for keeping that shirt I lent you and willingly returning it to me after we ended. Thanks especially for laundering it before returning it, and also for not telling anyone (that I know) about the freaky shit we were into. Also, secretly, sometimes I still sleep in said returned shirt because it still smells like you. Thanks for that as well.”

2.) Every single girl MUST have a modest collection of bridal mags stashed away. I know this seems counter-intuitive; you’re single. But, if you, like me, have started to come around to the realization that you do one day want to tie the knot with the right person, there is no better time to start getting a handle on what you do and do not like than now. You have lots of free time— if you’re not going out with the girls, use Friday Night Date Night to stay in, pop a cheap glass of champagne, put on something upbeat like Janelle Monae or Katy Perry, and start flipping through, dog-earring, and circling good ideas or dresses that you like. This is the PERFECT time to do so, because you don’t have to worry about a man suddenly walking in on you and dropping dead at the sight of you curled up with “Best Bride” and a pen. Keep these magazines, even if it’s for years. Take notes in them. Jot down your ideas. Maybe even rip out all the pages you’ve tagged and marked up and create a file folder or scrapbook for them so they’re all in one place. Hell, go whole-hog and start a small and modest savings account; I’ve always believed that the woman should be the one to pay for her own dress. You have to answer to no one for your actions right now, so enjoy. When you do move in with a gentleman in the future, just keep your stash hidden somewhere safe, where he won’t stumble across it. When an ex and I had started to tentatively talk wedding venues, I took a 4-day trip to see my grandmother out in Minnesota as an excuse to pick up some bridal mags at the airport instead of my usual ELLE or Vogue. When I got back, I just filed them away in the back of a bookshelf under my senior thesis and some chick-lit. I still have them, now in a drawer of a nightstand. Just because the man may change doesn’t mean your concepts for centerpieces or ceremonies will, too.

3.) Every single girl MUST have a go-to girl friend who is even BETTER for going out with than a guy. He may not have wanted to see Crazy, Stupid, Love and all of Ryan Gosling’s 8 abs, but she sure as hell does. And she won’t turn up her nose at a sushi dinner beforehand for lack of overcooked red meats, either. If you’re BOTH single, now is a really great time to play Date-Your-Friend, too. Dial it back to 1998 and have a sleepover, complete with chick-flick movies, popcorn, all the boxed candies that you used to mow down on, and, as a grown-up treat, your favorite girly drinks. Slip into your favorite pajamas and stay up all night, talking and comparing your most hilarious and atrocious dating moments, such as First Date failures, horrifying pick-up lines that have been used on you, or the sweet moments like Sunday breakfasts-in-bed that you’d someday like to recreate again. The best part is, you can do this all together from the comfort of your bed or living room floor with a mud face mask on and not have to hide in the bathroom for a half-hour, like you did when you lived with him. Perks of being single.

4.) Every single girl MUST have a few Post-Break-Up-Blues essentials on-hand at all times for when the Mean Reds strike. Though I technically quit smoking over a year ago, I have 3 emergency cigarettes that I keep handy, a few of the small airplane-sized bottles of vodka, a healthy box of indulgent gourmet chocolates (you can usually find nice boxes of really good Swiss chocolates for under like, $7, at T. J Maxx, just FYI), a body pillow to lean against at night and a furry blanket that snuggling under instantly makes me pass out, and the entire boxed set of all six seasons of Sex and the City. With these things, I know I can make it through any cold, lonely night with my dignity intact, my cell phone void of any outgoing messages to exes that I would surely regret in the morning, and only a little bit of a hangover. What are your Must Haves? Assemble them at once, posthaste, and never let your store of them run out. Another good Must Have to be aware of: The number of a friend you can call at any time of the day or night, who you know will answer and be ready, willing, compassionate, and able to talk you down from the “I’m Single And Going To Die A Crazy Cat-Lady In Matching Tracksuits” ledge.

5.) And last but CERTAINLY not least, every single girl MUST have an upbeat mentality about dating, even— and ESPECIALLY— now that you’re an uno and not part of a duo. While I was going through my last break-up, one of my coworkers looked at me quizzically and asked, “Did you take a pill or something? You are like, WAAAYYY calmer than I would be right now.” Though I told her that yes, I DO happen to take Zoloft every day to keep me level and alive, it wasn’t the drugs that were keeping me upright and mobile, and now I’ll let you in on the secret— and my way of thinking about such things— that I told her: The last 3 guys that I’ve had relationships with were all perfect strangers who walked into my life one very unsuspecting day when I wasn’t necessarily looking my best or decked out in my finest duds and said, “Hey, I’d like to take you out.” I figure if that can happen 3 times in 1 year and result in some pretty fulfilling dates, months spent together, or relationships, it can— and WILL— happen again. I think single women, especially those over a certain age that society has unkindly deemed our “expiration date” for still making single look sexy, have a sad propensity for believing that that one man who left them will be the last one to ever really love or want them. This, I tell you, is just complete and utter bullshit. There are 7 BILLION people in this world. The odds that you won’t meet someone— traveling, at a new job, in class, walking down the street, sharing a subway pole, fighting over a taxi cab, bagging groceries next to each other, shouting at the Celtics playing on the TV at a crowded bar during play-off season— who will think that you’re the tits and fall madly into love with the way that you fumble for your guidebook, mispronounce the boss’s last name, never actually complete your assignments, accidentally stumble off your high heels, brush their hand with yours, utilize Italian hand gestures to express your displeasure, separate your dry goods from your frozen, or paint your face to show your team pride. Be lovable, love yourself, give your love to others freely, love your life, and in return, you will attract the same sort of love you seek. Believe me. This I know.

Best of luck to all you fellow single ladies, and remember— there is always “Single Ladies” to listen to when all else fails. I seriously dare you to not get sassy and cheered up by Miss Bey. You’re fabulous, darhlink.


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January 19, 2012

January 26, 2012

Ways To Feel Sexy…Always:

1.) Flirt constantly. (When appropriate.) Like any skill, you need to be always honing it, because what works in one kind of guy may not work for another.

2.) Stick up for yourself. Know that you come first.

3.) Sleep in just undies. Not only does it FEEL to-die-for, but the more you see and get used to being comfortable being naked, the more you’ll love your body. …Which leads to other people loving your body.

4.) Know a relationship status does not equate your personal happiness.

5.) Always be doing things you’re passionate about. You’ll GLOW.

6.) Know how to dress your shape. Don’t be afraid to skip a trend or color if you know it won’t be flattering on you, even if everyone else from your best friend to Megan Fox is wearing it and swearing by it. You’ve got your own style.

7.) Falling-out cleavage is tacky, and done-to-death. Bare your shoulders or a strip of thigh between a skirt and stocking, instead, for a fresh pop of skin seduction.

8.) Nothing’s better than getting a compliment, except maybe giving one. If you like a random girl’s shoes, tell her. If you’re sitting in a waiting room and admire someone’s hair-cut, ask where they had it done. Making someone else feel sexy does wonders for your own confidence.

9.) Three words: Five. Inch. Stilettos.

10.) Emulate someone else. Not feeling like yourself today? Or feeling a little…blah? How about pretending that you’re Marilyn or Beyonce or Gaga; whoever you admire and whose confidence and attitude you’d like to borrow just for a bit.

11.) …But most of all, always be yourself; the original you— even the comic-book loving, craft-beer drinking, football-watching, bohemian-chic girl who only likes drawing naked men— will always look sexier on you than on anyone else. You don’t like tomatoes? Don’t eat them, even if you’re in Italy, or a five-star Italian restaurant. Have a dominatrix tendency in the bedroom? Make sure you bring her out to play. Snort when you laugh? Don’t stop finding things funny. The things that make you unique are the things that the right person will fall head-over-heels in love with.


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February 1, 2012

F. Scott Fitzgerald’s advice to his 11-year old daughter Scottie.
Bloody good advice if you ask me.


F. Scott Fitzgerald’s advice to his 11-year old daughter Scottie.

Bloody good advice if you ask me.



(Source: outofprintclothing)

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February 12, 2012

Quick Beauty Tip #1: Every Girl Loves Something Free.

You know those free little product samples that come on the postcard-sized inserts in women’s magazines for like, moisturizers and lipsticks and eyeshadows and blushes? Every time you find one in your ELLE or Cosmo or Glamour or Redbook, tear it out, and slip it into your purse. Carrying around paper-thin one-time samples is such a quicker and easier way to freshen up before you head out for drinks after work than having to cart the full-sized compacts and lipstick tubes that just take up room.


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February 16, 2012

Dating Smart: Class-ify Your Bars.

We all know that the nightspots in our city or town have their own sort of classifications already: There are sports bars, there are lounges. There are dive bars, and there are clubs. You can get a Bud Lite or a rum-and-Coke in any of them, but when it comes to dating, you can’t always find the kind of guy you’re looking for. I mean, sure, that guy who’s a dead-ringer for The Situation in the Ed Hardy shirt fist-pumping on the dance floor may seem fine for a one-night fling, but inevitably, you’re going to want to find someone you can actually connect with and want to talk to for more than five minutes without shoving your tongue down his throat so that you don’t have to hear him say “bro” one more time.

Every city’s different, but some things never change— such as the crowds that different types of bars attract. Sure, this means you’ll have to frequent a lot of bars initially, but after the fact, if you had a really traumatizing experience with a fraternity bro at Buddy’s Sports Bar, you never have to go back again. You’ve been there, you’ve seen the wreckage, you’ve done your damage. Onto “regular” status at the bar of your choosing. But you owe it to yourself to do a bar crawl to see what your town has to offer. Because believe me, if they’re (somewhat) young and looking for action, the men folk are in the bars.

Sports bars tend to carry a heavy working-class Joe Schmo and college frat boy clientele. No surprise, that’s where they never have to fight over the remote to watch the game. This is the sort of place where you can get a bottle of Bud for two or three bucks and has $1 PBR specials on game nights. If you like guys in Nike sneakers, blue jeans, and polo shirts who are only somewhat acquainted with their razors, this is the breeding ground for you. If you know what a tight end or a point guard really does, you’ll have dudes and bros flocking all over you. And if you can handle the fact that the majority of the guys there were business majors who never cracked a book in their extracurricular time, it will be made up for you in the fact that there’s almost never a line for the ladies’ room.

If I say “saloon,” you probably instantly think of the Wild West and swinging doors. However, if you don’t live in Deliverance, Texas, a saloon is just another fancy term for a bar that has a little bit of everything: A few TVs, a few gaming tables, a few nights of live music, a few layers of spilled beer on the floor. Saloons tend to have trivia or game nights, and always have a few guys huddled around the pool tables engaged in a league tournament. The beer is cheap, you can get a glass of bad wine if you really want it, and the clientele is varied. From white collar to blue collar to no collar, you can find a mish-mash of guys at a saloon. Some host wine-tastings and attract the Educated College Boy and Slightly Older crowd, while others that feature live bands are a great place to meet the guitar rocker of your dreams. 

A lounge is a saloon’s classy older sister. You can probably get something to eat here…if foie gras and a plate of $18 imported Italian cheese ravioli are your thing. If you’re a dirty martini drinker, this is the place to be, and if you like men who look like they stepped out of the pages of the latest issue of GQ and have money to blow, this is where you can find them. (Just make sure they’re not there with their part-time model girlfriend, first.) A guy who frequents a lounge tends to have what I liked to call a James Bond complex— he likes traveling, classic literature, vintage spy movies, jazz music, and the finer, maybe not so legal things in life, like Cuban cigars. If you’re going to go haunt a lounge’s designer bar, dress up. We’re talking, body con mini-dresses and heels. Guys here like women like they like art. And don’t worry— in a lounge’s dark, moody, romantic lighting, you’ll never be able to see the food in front of your face, let alone your boss snuggling across the room with his 20 year old mistress, so you’ll never need to know what foie gras really is. 

On the other side of the class spectrum, a dive bar is where you can go to find your struggling actors, writers, and musicians. Unlike the published, patron-ized writer/actor/music exec you can find in a lounge, dive bars are a hipster guy’s Mecca. They tend to have $1 drink specials at least once a day, so they can feed their alcohol habit on their nonexistent budget. If you like men with beards and funky vintage mustaches in plaid who listen to Bon Iver and moan about The Man while actively campaigning for the local libertarian or very Democratic representatives, you can find these babes at your local dive bars. They’re smart, but they have a tendency to whine about the injustices of life. If you can get over this, drag your Boho-clad ass down there and bring a copy of Jack London’s “Call Of The Wild” to pose at the bar with. (If you think I’m kidding, you should know…I’ve done this.) Have an opinion on your local politics. It helps.

A club is generally comprised of the equation 1/2 dance floor + 1/2 bar, or 3/4 dance floor, and 1/4 bar. You know it’s a club from the flashing neon lights, retro fog machines, pounding house music, scantily-clad women (most of whom should decidedly be wearing more material to cover their “ample” body shape), and gangster-wannabe male clientele. Most men at a club tend to fall into either of the two gangster categories: OG (Original Gangster) as in, lurid button-down shirts unbuttoned at least to their clavicle, heavy gold chain jewelry, gelled hair and pointy-toed Italian shoes, and…well, MTV spawned “rap gangsters” who wear their pants falling off the ass and flat-brim baseball caps and prison tats with pride and “attitude.” Guys who troll clubs, while rarely looking for anything more than someone (ANYONE) to let them “get their piece wet,” do have the advantage of possibly being able to bust a move. While you may want to invite them to your friend’s wedding so you’ll have a date who will do the Electric Slide with you, they probably don’t date. Because they can’t hear you over the pounding music, they’ll think you just asked them to go get your friend’s weed with you, and you’ll be forced to endure their sweaty, overly-cologne’d body against yours for the rest of the night, because there is no way you can get rid of them now. But don’t worry, after your initial misunderstanding, they’ll go home with that 215 pound girl in the Spandex mini-skirt falling out of her tank-top over there FINE.

Obviously, there are exceptions to every rule, and drinking establishment patrons sometimes overlap premises. But as a general rule, I know I’m a hipster-guy loving, dive-bar frequenting girl, so it’s no use to try going to a club to find someone to click with. I mean, sure, I’ll go with my girl friends to dance and have a good time and flirt harmlessly with random strangers I’m not interested in while wing-womaning, but I also know that if I’m serious about wanting to meet someone, why waste my time going to a club when I can go to a dive bar and be surrounded by MY type of people? Once you figure out how to classify the patrons and bars in your city, you also figure out how to best spend your time and energy when you want to go out, get a drink…and meet a guy. Play it smart, ladies!


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February 21, 2012

February 23, 2012

Ok, why does it seem like I’m the worst person in the world to have an online dating profile, because I instantly go for looks and completely disregard all the important “character” schtick?

Seriously, I go straight for the beefcake and ignore all the other creative writer/college-educated/fundamentally awesome types. You know, the people who I’d actually connect with.

I am treating this like I am picking out the 2013 Chippendale’s calendar.

Oh, I suck.

Anyone else have some horrible online dating stories or advice for me?


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Dating Makes Me Want To Die Online Decorum Online Dating Advice Q&A I Never Learn

February 28, 2012