the lost art of being romantic

If there’s one thing I love in this world it’s a good romantic comedy. I like to pretend that I’m the plucky, scattered yet endearing heroine who can totally handle her own stuff, but will also willingly let Prince Charming swoop in and save the day. I also like imagine what it would be like if I were actually able to live in apartments like Meg Ryan’s in You’ve Got Mail or Mr. Bedford’s in Miracle on 34th Street (1994 version, of course. not 100% rom-com but dat apartment doh).

Lately, the subject of hopeless romance/romantics has come up in my daily life and I thought “Finally! Something I have an opinion on!” I don’t date much (so I use opinion v. loosely) – not by my choice, tbh, but I do daydream a ton and consider myself pretty well versed on chick lit and rom-coms, both by Hollywood and Hallmark so be confident that you’re in good hands here.

Men always say how hard women are. “You’re impossible to understand!” they cry. Well, boys, you’re in luck! Auntie Martina is here to clear up a few things. Get a notepad and write this down. Or bookmark this page. Screenshot it, maybe. Whatever you kids are doing these days. Just get ready.



Women talk – a lot. And, yea, some of it is nonsense about how Diane in payroll gave her the stink eye all day today (bitch.) or how she found out how many calories are actually in her daily Double Trouble Mocha Choca Latta frappuccino and how she literally died when she found out but she can’t just can’t quit them. She’ll fill you in on how her 1st-grade bestie’s cousin’s neighbor got engaged this weekend in a hot air balloon (which she’ll pretend to be unimpressed by, but really, she would kill for the same thing) She’ll also tell you how she loves daisies and the color green and her favorite comfort food. One thing’s for sure, she’ll definitely let you know how she’s feeling so, when you see she’s a little off, buy her a bouquet of daisies, wrap them in a green ribbon, order the chicken parm and pop in her favorite movie – because she’s definitely mentioned it  – and look at you! Day = made.

Don’t be a dick


How come the biggest gripe of single people (myself included) is “There’s just no one out there!”? HOW IS THERE NO ONE OUT THERE? There are dating sites/apps, singles cruises, matchmakers, singles mixers, etc. that prove otherwise. I just had this conversation with a few different people and my question is this – ALL (like, every single one) of the single people in the world (or, in your neighborhood, city, state, country, whatever) are ALL garbage people? Like, not just the “oh, they weren’t my type” or “it just didn’t work out” ones. I mean the ghosting, the talking to no less than 5065 people at the same time, or the really heinous – ones who already have a girl(boy)friend/wife or husband/ family. I think the problem is that there’s too much of an interest in being not interested or not interested enough. It’s way too easy to swipe right and then never message the person or to message them a few times and then drop them or even to go so far as to go on a date and then *poof* #byefelicia and never to be seen or heard from again. Not cool, bros. So, basically, don’t do this. If you’re interested, see it through. It’s ok if there’s no spark in the long run, but take the time to find that out. If you’re not interested, don’t pretend like you are.

OK? Good.

Now we know that listening and being a decent person is key. Now it’s time to act. Romance comes in all sizes. You can have huge, sweeping acts of it that takes everyone’s breath away. And by everyone, I mean all of Facebook and Instagram because you know grand gestures will be ‘booked and ‘grammed from here until kingdom come. Not one for sweeping gestures? Not a good listener? I got you. Here’s a list – a cheat sheet if you will – of things that you can do to make her think she’s the Meg Ryan to your Tom Hanks. The Kate Hudson to your Matthew McConnaghey.

  • text her every morning – a quick one is fine. just let her know you’re thinking of her. want to blow her socks off? check in during the day too.
  • hate to dance? do it anyway. even if you look like a fool. even if it’s only one slow dance at some random wedding. it will be the best 2.5-3.5 minutes of her night.
  • tell her she’s pretty – even when she kind of isn’t. like when she slept late and couldn’t wash her hair that morning and it’s looking ratty. bonus points: when she’s sick and is surrounded by tissues. bonus bonus points: when sick means to her stomach, tell her as you hold her hair back.
  • flirt with her – again, a quick text goes a long way. witty banter. be THAT couple.
  • don’t roll your eyes when One Direction comes on. TURN THAT SHIT UP AND SING ALONG. (feel free to replace 1D with whatever artist she likes and you don’t)
  • hold her hand. SIMPLE.
  • buy her flowers. i know i mentioned that before, but you don’t have to wait until she has a bad day. any day is a good day for flowers. bonus points: pick a random day and send them to her at work *swoon*.
  • i know we’re talking about dating here so this may be kind of weird, but eventually, this may come up – tell her how amazing she is after she gives birth. she just birthed a tiny human. YOUR tiny human. you better believe she is the most amazing, beautiful, fierce, bad ass person in the world at that very moment. TELL HER. she may just be drugged and/or tired enough to not fight you on it and just believe you.
  • know how she likes her coffee –  v. important.
  • keep up with the kardashians – ok, that may be taking it too far, but if she’s into reality TV,  don’t give her shit about it and know the players at least.
  • open her car door. then wait to see if she passes “The Mario Test” (what movie?)
  • make her laugh. for the love of God – this is important. the great American philosopher, Marilyn Monroe, supposedly once said “If you can make a woman laugh, you can make her do anything.” which, now that i’ve read it again, I’m not sure I’m in love with the quote, but I agree with the idea of keeping each other laughing and having a sense of humor.
  • kiss her on the forehead. *shrugs* it’s cute
  • listen
  • don’t be a dick

Could I go on for days? Yep, sure. Are there more important things I should mention like, support her in achieving her goals, or having nothing but resepect for her. Am I setting feminism back a bit with this post? Maybe, but sometimes it’s nice to be the plucky, scattered heroine and feel like romance isn’t dead in a ditch somewhere. It’s nice to feel woo-ed. I know that feeling comes differently for everyone and what works on me might not work on you. Like I said in the beginning, what I like about romantic comedies is that the woman can usually handle her own stuff. It’s just nice to be given an extra thought to/about.  Let’s not forget also – love is a two-way street so just flip it and reverse it, ladies!

What did I miss? What would make you swoon? Have I totally missed the mark?


single gal speaks: OKStupid

I am so glad I have a blog so that moments like the one I’m about to tell you won’t get lost in the cesspool of Facebook and so that I can rant and rave to my heart’s content and then (hopefully) incorporate the public at large into my conversation. I watch a lot of YouTube and read a lot of blogs and often wonder why everyone in the entire world doesn’t have one or the other. Then I realized what a nightmare that would be.

before i really get rolling, my easter was great; filled with family, food and the cutest little jellybean who celebrated for the first time. how was your holiday?

As evidenced in my last post, I’m not a stranger to the world of online dating. I’ve complained written about it here numerous times. It’s been, amongst other things, an all around funny, discouraging, and hopeful expericence. But listen to this shit.

On my way to Easter dinner on Sunday, I got a notification from OKCupid that I had recieved a message. There was traffic, as usual, so I figured I’d check it out. This is what I saw.




I was feeling sassy, so I wrote back.


Honestly, I get a lot of comments on my weight on OKCupid, usually inappropriate in nature, so I ignore them. i’m not a fetish. I don’t know what made me answer. I just think my brain went to “that was just unnecessary”. And on this, the day of my Savior’s ascension. #rude.

He wasn’t feeling my sassiness, so here’s his response.


Rocky J. Squirrel – I don’t need your “admiration” for putting myself on OKCupid, or any dating website, for that matter. I’ve never had a problem putting myself out there on dating websites, FYI. Did you expect me to thank you profusely and plead that we meet? Like you’re doing me a huge favor. What made you think it was OK to open with a line like that? You couldn’t have just said hello and introduced yourself? Then to get mad at me for not putting up with your shit? How am I supposed to know your level of sarcasm? If you found it necessary and appropriate to leave me a message about being “a very big person” on a website like this, don’t you think other people have had things to say? Things more along the lines of your second message? Which wasn’t so nice. Word to the wise, Rock, don’t open with a comment on someones looks. Unless it’s in person and you’re commenting how beautiful their eyes are. Which I have, by the way. BIG, BEAUTIFUL green eyes.

Did I jump the gun? I really don’t know. I’m probably taking it too far, but as I’ve had a little time to think about it, the question that keeps popping into my head is “Don’t I deserve love?” Comments like Rocky’s up there make me feel like people genuinely think it’s not OK for fat people to find love. Like it’s all a big joke. Like it’s OK to make assumptions, and comments without realizing or caring that there’s a real person on the recieving end of your message. I wrote about this on another one of my long forgotten blogs. It was when that Marie Claire article came out and the writer was talking about how she hated seeing fat people in love on TV and fat people in general. I think I’m getting a little off track here so I’ll just insert the relevant part of the post here:

Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t realize obese (or whatever word you prefer here) people don’t have feelings. My mistake. I must have been dreaming when I have meltdowns in the dressing room. I must have imagined feeling left out when I went shopping with friends and family who are skinnier than me. On the other side of the coin, I must have been wrong for being proud of myself when I received my college diploma. I probably shouldn’t get nervous or excited when possible employers start to call me for interviews for my first real big girl job. Above all, as the article points out I don’t have the right be to loved, or to be intimate (which doesn’t necessarily mean sex.) You’re right, only skinny people should feel these things.

Here’s the link, for a little more background/clarification.

I probably could have broken this blog into two; a funny one about Rocky J and then a more serious one about body image and the internet, but my thoughts got jumbled because I didn’t realize how strongly I felt. As much as I don’t care what people have to say about my body and how it is larger than perferred, it bothers me. Then it bothers me that I’m bothered. It’s a vicious circle.

I just know what I have to offer and my body type should have absolutely nothing to do with it. I’m funny and pretty and smart because I’m funny and pretty and smart. It’s really that simple. If you don’t want to give me a shot, it’s your loss.


Harry loves me for me and that’s all that matters.

oh god. i hope i’m not coming off as conceited because believe me, it’s taking alot for me to keep “pretty” in there. i never refer to myself as pretty. maybe it’s some leftover sassiness, maybe i’m just growing up and realizing that it’s time to stop being so hard on myself. whatever it is, pretty is staying. 

Tell me what you think!


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