Good Advice

This week was kind of crazy, what with dropping my iPhone at the gym and rendering it useless, dealing with feeling really run down, a vitamin that has destroyed my skin, and other apartment related things that suck. But I held fast and managed to feel optimistic despite it all. I know, a true American heroine, right?

Some great things about the week? I read a funny book, called I Don't Care About Your Band: What I Learned from Indie Rockers, Trust Funders, Pornographers, Felons, Faux-Sensitive Hipsters, and Other Guys I've Dated by Julie Klausner.
Not all books about dating losers are good. In fact, a lot of them are more like cautionary tales for married ladies. Like, "stay married, the single life is frightening!!" But this one was really great. There's a lot of funny stuff in there that I could totally relate to, and I like that the author seemed to understand there was a difference between dating losers because you have low self-esteem and dating losers because you are optimistic about someone's potential. She does both, but knows the difference. I am a sucker for these kinds of books because I have made my share of bad romantic choices. I am a blogger, a sarcastic one at that, so this is right up my alley, but I could never do this kind of writing. I guess because I didn't do a lot of dating before I met my husband, so not only would it be a short book, but it would be really obvious who I'm talking about! I couldn't be this revealing, because the internet bites back you know. All in good time.

Anyway, some gems from the book:

After a narcissistic asshole explains to her (lying in her bed no less) that they can't go out that night because he has a date, she gets furious with him, and he does the worst thing ever. He cries.

"Have you ever seen a grown man in the act of working himself up into a lather so that he can cry real tears in front of you? It's an excellent cure for being attracted to someone."

She starts one story with the excuse that she was drunk and says, "I know stories about "how wasted you were" are little-league, but the truth remains that when you drink, stupid things become silly, and who doesn't like laughing at things that are silly? That's right, nobody, and assholes."

It's not all quips and jokes, though. She gives some good advice. This one kind of embodies her optimism in the face of all these losers:

"If I'm iffy about being attracted to somebody right away, but he goes about pursuing me in a way I think is upstanding, I always give the guy a second chance. It's a way about being strict about your standards, but open minded about your contenders. Men are way more likely to become more appealing to you over time than they are to magically grow manners."

On dating a guy in a band, she reminisces on how boring it is to go to your boyfriends shows, and to talk to people about music. She also discusses that girlfriends will already be outsiders to the band comraderie, because "if you're going to be a musician's girlfriend, you have to know that your man will always love his band mates in a way you can't touch, because they are the guys that help him create music. You can only help him create a living human being, with your dumb uterus."

She then implores women who like guys in bands to try and learn an instrument and play in a band, because only then will they realize that a) it's not hard, and b) maybe it turns out you are more into musicians because you want to be one. Excellent advice!

I loved it. You should get it. The end.

Moving Day: 1 of 159

If you've ever lent me anything and you'd like to see it back, you should probably ask for it now. I've started packing for our big move in June. I know, who packs this far in advance, right? Well, given the convergence of events happening between February and June, I decided slow and steady was the best approach. I'll be doing a lot of writing, becoming the feral creature I knew I always would. I've got a semester to prepare for, though I am hoping to do minimal preparation given that it's my last semester and I'm teaching the Pop Culture class, which won't change from last semeter. I am also putting together applications for teaching gigs, which is a lot of work for probably very little reward, but at least I'll be getting my name out there.

The next couple of weeks of vacation will be dissertation heavy, but I will be packing a little bit each day. Mostly books. I started packing up kitchen things that I can live without, and today was about deciding which books will make the cut. I have reduced my necessary-have-to-have-around books to one Billy bookshelf. One shelf! Our goal during this vacation time was to do all the culling. We've gone through closets and separated out the things we want to sell or donate. That way, when crunch time happens, we can shove things in boxes without wondering whether or not they are important. At some point during moving, you just start randomly throwing things in boxes and tossing out stuff just because it doesn't fit.

I hate packing. I hate moving! The last time we did this was a July 4th weekend four years ago. The first weekend where temperatures got to 100 degrees and neither apartment had air conditioning. Nobody was available to help us move, so we basically had to do it ourselves. We had no money, but we rented a small U-Haul truck and filled it three times. Our landlord couldn't get the previous tenant out as quickly as he wanted, so the carpet was still wet from the cleaning service, and the caulking in the tub was not yet dry. But we were in. We used a bucket filled with ice and water to soak our feet and keep cool, and my dear future husband went out and got us Taco Bell tacos. We vowed then and there that we would never move without movers again. We, it had been decided, were "too old for this shit."

Yeah well, times change. Bank accounts dwindle. Basically, we're planning this move on a shoe string budget. We plan on selling a lot of stuff, mostly furniture. Any money we make from those little craigslist sales will go toward our cross-country trip. A trip of Motel 6s across this great land, because they take pets and we'll have both an angry kitty and a happy, but stir-crazy dog. We hope to rent a couple of those pods that you pack yourself and then they get picked up and shipped to your destination. Hopefully, we'll have friends and family in Philly who can help us unload!

Any tips for long distance moves would be nice. How did you go about getting jobs? What kind of moving service did you use? How many miles were you able to drive each day? Comment here, or email me!

Good Advice

So do you remember a few months ago when I recommended the blog called I Could Kill Her? And then they went on hiatus, like, immediately afterward? Well, the ladies in charge of that blog now do an advice column blog called Miss In Your Business. Not surprisingly, they give the best advice of all time. Here are my favorites from the past few months:


Dear Elaine and Sarah,

I love to watch trashy reality TV (“Rock of Love,” “Mommas Boys” and “Real Housewives of Orange County” are my current favorites). The trashier the better. Watching these ridiculous programs allows me to unwind and forget about life’s stresses.

My best friend is one of those people who doesn’t own a TV (I know how you feel about this type of individual, but otherwise she’s a really cool chick). She has a million hobbies and doesn’t find television interesting.

Lately she’s been giving me a lot of shit about my “habit.” At first she would just tease me a little (we both went to Ivy League schools and have graduate degrees). But lately it’s become annoying.

Their advice?

Excerpt:

The next time your friend brings it up, say this: “Why do you care what I do with my free time?”

She will say something like, “I’m just giving you shit. Don’t get defensive.”

You should then say, “I’m not defensive. But given how frequently you talk about my hobby, I’m starting to think there’s a bigger issue here and frankly, I’m getting tired of it.”

To which she will say, “I didn’t realize you were so sensitive. God. Excuse me for trying to be funny.”

To which you should say, “I’m not sensitive and if it was funny, it would be fine, but it’s not funny. It’s annoying and you try to embarrass me by telling everyone how dumb it is that I enjoy these shows.” Get over yourself. I think the African tribal dance class you take at the community center with all the other poser white chicks is retarded but hey, it’s something you enjoy, so who am I to judge?” (Even if she doesn’t do African tribal dance, I’m SURE she does some kind of self-empowerment/diversity/women’s class on a regular basis that you can make fun of.)

Guaranteed, you’ll shut her down and that will be the end of that.

This one is my favorite:

Miss In Your Business,

My girlfriend of three years loves all things celebrity. At first I thought this was cute—her subscriptions to People, US Weekly and Vanity Fair; her devastation over the Brad/Jen breakup (she cried for days), and her five-day self imposed mourning period when Heath Ledger died.

Now I find it annoying and embarrassing. I work in academia – my colleagues are PhDs and scientists. That last few work functions we’ve attended have been downright uncomfortable. I feel like my GF has nothing else to contribute to conversations.

Should I cut my losses and dump her?

Abe

Abe,

Joint answer tonight - Sarah has a date with a mime – she keeps referring to him as a thought-provoking “performance artist.” Basically the dude makes his living miming at various hippy festivals throughout Oregon and Washington – you do the math. And I have a date with Hugh Jackman and a brie/bread/apple plate.

And, we both agree, so why not do this together.

We know girls like your GF. And we, too, think it’s cute at first; and then it quickly gets annoying. Our concern is that she’s unhappy with the day-to-day events of her life so she’s getting sucked into the “glamorous” lives of entertainers.

Recently we’ve had a lot of discussions about the general mundaneness of life. To summarize, once you hit a certain age, life is mundane. It’s semi Ground-Hog Day-ish. You do the same shit over and over again and it’s easy to lose yourself in the idea of a life so different – a life like Brad’s or Jen’s or that crazy mofo, Joaquin Phoenix.

But really, after three years you’re willing to “cut your losses” because your girlfriend spends too much time reading about famous people? Show some compassion. Maybe she’s unhappy. Maybe you are so boring in your “academia” that she’s forced to find something more interesting.

Talk to her. And don’t judge. Tell her that her “hobby” has become increasingly obsessive and you’re concerned she’s unhappy. Whatever you do DON’T TELL HER THAT YOU’RE EMBARRASED BY HER WHEN SHE’S WITH YOUR BIG-BRAIN FRIENDS.

And maybe she should dump you, Abe – you sound dumb.

One that made me think I was hearing myself:

Dear Elaine,

(Sorry, Sarah, but asking you for help on this one is like asking a priest for advice on spicing up my sex life.)

My boyfriend plays poker a few times a month with a regular group of guys. I love playing cards and am actually quite good at it; and I want in on the game.

Whenever I mention that I’d like to play, my boyfriend makes up some lame excuse as to why I can’t come (“We have a full house,” “We’ve stopped inviting new people because Dave’s coworker was a colossal ass who spent the whole night trying to convince us to go in on a hooker,” etc.).

I’m starting to get pissed. I kick ass at Texas Hold Em and I think a regular card game would be so much fun. Should I press the issue? My boyfriend and I rarely fight and I’d hate for this to be the thing that causes a major blow up, but I’m getting tired of the excuses.

Bev

Bev,

Really? You don’t understand why your boyfriend doesn’t want you to spend an evening with a group of GUYS playing CARDS? You’re perplexed, Bev? You can’t figure it out, Bev? Are you twelve, Bev?

Your boyfriend simply doesn’t want you to there, and you need to get over it.

Your mad card playing skills are irrelevant.

His regular poker nights are times for him to hang out with his boys. Not only does he not want you to come, the rest of the guys would be SUPER PISSED if you showed up.

How do you not know this? People need time away from their partners – and it’s nothing that should offend you. Can you honestly tell me that you haven’t wondered why these games are comprised only of men? Do you really think it’s a coincidence? Well it’s not. They don’t want you there. They don’t want Angelina Jolie there. They want to have some bro time. Stay out of it.

If you love playing cards, start a card game. This is 2009, and plenty of women know how to play poker. I’m sure some of your friends would love the idea of a girls’ poker night.

Stop hounding your boyfriend.

As for your boyfriend, I’m a little concerned that he’s too big of a pussy to tell you that he doesn’t want you there. Why the excuses? What’s going on in your relationship? How is the communication?

‘Cause I’ll tell you this, if I told Nathan I wanted in on his poker game…once he stopped laughing his ass off, he would tell me, “There’s no way you’re coming to my poker game. If you want to play poker with me, I’m happy to play with you at home.”

Your boyfriend needs to man up and you need to realize that spending time apart is a wonderful part of any successful relationship.

So go check it out. Put it on your RSS feed.