ring popAre you saying you jizz ring pops? Sounds painful.

Is This It?

I’ve read plenty of “inspirational” quotes telling me things like, “If it’s not okay it’s not the end” and “There’s no such thing as a true ending” and “Everything must come to an end sometime.” A lot of these sayings contradict each other but that doesn’t stop girlie girls from putting the words on pretty a background and posting them to their Instagrams.

Here’s my problem: I hate endings. I don’t know how to handle them. I very rarely even say goodbye to anyone. I always end the dinner or the drinks or the party by saying something like, “See you next week.” I never simply say, “Goodbye.”

I can’t handle the permanence of The End.

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The Friendship Problem

Finding friends is like dating, except harder. And more necessary.

I had no idea how lucky I was to have people living in the same house as me in college. Living with the girls below was like having constant entertainment and companionship. What I’d give to go back to that big, crazy house…


When I moved to LA last July, I only had a handful of friends out here. Like any naive college kid with a hefty number of people in her phone’s contact list, I assumed I’d easily pick up more friends as soon as I arrived in my new(ish) city. Having spent three summers out here prior to making the permanent move, I was confident in my ability to find fun people to spend time with in a totally unromantic, strictly platonic way. I thought it’d be easy to make a whole bunch of friends who I could hang out with whenever I wanted, just like when I was in college.

I was wrong.

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NYMag Meets the 4 Most Desired Online Daters in NYC

A buddy of mine in New York sent this piece to me this morning.

I found it incredibly interesting, as the four most popular users were not the types of people I’d expected. Both men (one gay and one straight) clocked in at under 5 foot 8. In a world where manly men are tall, this was actually comforting to see that hordes of women appreciate a guy despite his stature. Both women (also one gay and one straight) had unique looks. Our gay representative has a “Harry Styles haircut” and our straight girl has big, visible tattoos. Certainly not the conventional markings of female attractiveness.

This article actually gave me hope, at least for the East Coast online daters. They aren’t all looking for the cookie-cutter image of beauty.

I’d love to see Ok Cupid do this experiment in LA. I have an inkling the results would be a little more…obvious.


Patrick was one of the first guys I messaged with who seemed really quirky and fun. We wrote to each other for a couple weeks before we decided to meet for drinks. Topics ranged from siamese twins to the arts. I was actually excited to meet him. Plus, his photo wasn’t so bad either. (Check the proof below).

Truth be told, I shouldn’t have fallen for that Instagram filter. When I went to meet Patrick for drinks, I was excited to see that he was tall and wearing a flannel. I was not excited to hug him hello and feel his man-boobs against my body. Mean? Yes. But also very surprising. Have you ever been caught off guard like that? I hadn’t. He had to have been an A-cup. 

Increasingly disinterested in my date, I made friends with an older and married gay couple at the bar. They fed me a marshmallow and thought I was so charming. Patrick was impressed. I wanted to take both of these gray-haired gay men home with me. This is just further proof that I am a homosexual male. 

I bought a drink and we talked. Mostly about siamese twins. Again. He seems quite fascinated. I couldn’t really carry a conversation about conjoined babies past what I’d already said in our online messaging, so I bid him adieu after an appropriate amount of time (as in, “I gave him a chance but now I need to say goodbye to Patrick and his girlish rack”). 

I never heard from Patrick again. I was okay with that. That is, until he texted me three weeks later to ask if I got home safely. Yes, really. I could have died on the way home and he wouldn’t have known. I told him this. He said, “Yeah, I guess I turned the three-day rule into the three-week rule.” Sucks, man.


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