The Girl With The Lower Back Tattoo Is Changing The Game

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Game changer Amy Schumer was picked to be the cover of Vogue recently, and her interview is so atypical Vogue that it’s basically giving me life. I love Amy; she has been my dream bestie since the first time I saw her stand-up. I love any woman who celebrates her truth. I relate so heavily to not only her journey, but to her comedy. I believe in talking about the uncomfortable stuff that people need to hear about.

“I wouldn’t know what motivates Tina Fey and Julia Louis-Dreyfus,” says Schumer when I bring this up. “This insatiable drive. I have it too. Sometimes I feel like they’re hustling, they want something, and they’re not going to stop until they get it, and they play the game. I am very into making up my own rules. Like, I don’t want to play the game and succeed at it. I want to redefine it. That’s the only way I can deal with it. Maybe that’s naive. ”   -What a great way to utilize comedic talent!

Her interview with Vogue really is game-changing. She talks about the era of the mean girl being over, and that people are becoming more honest and not accepting of meanness, she discusses her journey with her dad and how being comedic was a defense against difficulty through her childhood. And what we can all probably relate to, she talks about how confusing sex is when you’re young and how her perception of beauty warped her sense of self when she was young. I am in love with alllll of that. In true Amy fashion, it’s honest and hilarious.
Click Here to read the whole interview.

Enjoy, Friends! I loved this interview.

 

To be continued,

B&B

Proud Neo-liberal Beyoncé Feminist! 

So, bumble (the dating app) spoke out about a woman being verbally abused by a male user, and I’m getting all sorts of feisty over it:

HelloGiggles covers the story pretty well if you want to read what bumble had to say in response to the screenshot above.

If you’ve ever been on Tinder or Bumble, you’ve probably encountered a Connor-type. He’s a classic “I have too much to offer you, so tread lightly” type. My most recent encounter with one of those was when I matched with Legarrette Blount  last summer, and he told me I should consider myself “lucky”, because he’s picky. – 😳 ahem…excuse me?! Who the fuck are you!? (I had to google him to figure out who the hell he was) And I’m still NOT impressed, but his name sure as hell stuck with me!

I digress, it’s crazy that this Connor guy’s prestigious degree didn’t instill any sense of decency or humbleness in him. What a great way to impress the world with a fancy degree, Connor. We thank you for even allowing the rest of us to coexist with your ego. *barf*

This guys is a massive jerk, and I hope he finds exactly what he’s looking for in a counterpart… A giant bag of dicks.

Oh, and to all the haters of state schools… We got the same education, but I paid for mine myself.  *flips hair*  #ProudASUalum

“Wait for something more organic…”

First of all, who the fuck actually does that!?

And second: am I the only one who finds it incredibly condescending when someone says “you’ll meet him/her when the timing is right. It just has to happen organically.”???  -I like the idea of not having to put forth effort, but nothing actually happens organically. I’d love to say I’m not pushy, but I am. I’m always making moves to get things accomplished. Nothing great in my life has ever happened organically. I had to put in a sufficient amount of effort to make ANYTHING work.

I’m 25, and have been dating for a decade. Yes, there are women out there who have been dating in their adulthood a lot longer than I, but I’m exhausted.

My type has gone from so narrow and picky that it was comedic, to “must be a decent human being, with whom I can have great conversations and moments with.” -I obviously want to be attracted to them, but I tend to find intellect and a mutual connection more attractive with my aging. He doesn’t have to be freakishly tall, foreign, funny, bilingual,  5+ years older, dark, and handsome. <I told you it was comedic>

He can be a normal human being, because I am a normal human being. I mean, I think I’m a catch, but I’m not Giselle Bündchen.

So, how the F**K do I go about “bumping into” this normal and sophisticated gent in an organic fashion? ….Do I hover over Tolstoy at the old bookstore, with hopes that I’ll have a meetcute with some cutie who ALSO is obsessed with early 19th century literature? -Come on, guys… that’s not actually a thing.  Meeting people organically is total bullshit. So, until then… the cutie in the produce section will have to do.

To Be Continued,

IncrediblySingle&SlightlyAnnoyed

B&B

 

Tinder Tale I

tinderTinder Tales I

At this point, I know very few people who haven’t tried tinder. They’ve either tried it just for laughs, or to actually meet people. I know a very small portion who have actually pursued relationships with tinder matches, and I’m happy to say they’re all doing really well.

I won’t lie, I felt a little weird trying it. I knew it was basically a hook-up app, and I had no idea if that was what I was even looking for. I just knew I wanted to meet new people and have fun. It was the summer before I was turning 25, and I decided it was time for me to have a scandalous summer. I’m too big of a control freak to ever commit to anything scandalous, so it was time for me to let go a little, and try something new. However, as a writer and scientist, I obsessively journal any and every new life venture so I can (much) later look at my experience (semi) objectively. Lucky for all of you beautiful creatures, you get to relive my experience with me.

So, here’s my first Tinder Tale:

“When Joan&Jane Were Sailors”

Before I start the story, I should add that Joan is my roommate’s nickname/drunk alterego. No one pronounces her name correctly and  we decided on Joan, because it sounds sort of “badass office lady”. Also, Joan and I work together in addition to our being roommates. For most, it would be too much time with one person, but we’re basically two different sides of the same coin; we make a great team at work and outside of work… it works for us, and has for years.

So, one night after a really shitty day at work, we decided to get the pool floaties out and drink a bottle of rum in our pool. After getting a little sauced, we decided to go out for some cocktails -because we ran out of rum.

I met up with the Dodger that I slept with once (who I met through tinder, but that’s a story for another day), and Joan met up with a previous Tinder Tackle turned long-term friend who had flown in for the night.

I got annoyed with the Dodger, because he was nothing short of one of the flakiest guys I had ever hung out with and was being wishy washy about where he wanted to go (as far as which bar) -total shocker..an athlete with a short attention-span. So, I decided to pretend to ignore him. Drunk or sober, I’m not great at ignoring or even pretending to ignore people. So, my attempt at pretending was, I’m sure, laughable at best. I just rolled my eyes at him and didn’t follow him to his stupid VIP section. I think all I said was “Nah. I might go home. See yah.”, and then I took my pouty attitude to the other side of the bar. Joan, her friend, and I decided to stay at this same bar because after my attempt at passive aggressiveness, I was stuck in this rapid cycle of “take a shot, dance for 10 minutes, take a lap to make sure he’s having a miserable time (I’m a little batty…drunk or sober *I embrace it), and repeat! We did that for about an hour, and my friends were ready to strangle me.

Eventually, Joan and her friend got bored of the workout my crazy was giving them, and we decided to head to a few other bars. I eventually got them to go back to the original bar, claiming that the music was better. Joan’s friend got refused at the door because they thought he was too drunk…. I have no idea why I didn’t set off any alarms, but I still got in so I didn’t care -I didn’t see Joan after that until we left for work the next morning.

So, I’m at the first bar and I went straight to my dodger(because I obviously knew his exact location) and told him to take me home because my sandal broke and I was tired. He complied, and gave me a piggy back ride to our uber, while holding my sandal because I was too busy being devastated over my broken shoe to hold it myself. On our way home to his flat, I flirted with the cutest Dominican uber driver… in front of my dodger (who just laughed the whole time, while still holding my shoe). When we got back to his place, at 5’2” tall (1.5 meters), I attempted to give this 6’2” (1.9 meters) solid muscly athlete a piggy back ride into the house. We fall at least three times, but I got him through that threshold!! After that, I had decided that I’m basically the hulk.

What happened between the attempts to carry him into the house and my having to pee shortly after is still a little blurry, and was probably full of “I could probably arm wrestle you and win!”(I’m embarrassing, guys). But regardless of what ridiculous shit happened between those two moments, I had to pee. I eventually got to his bathroom  and this was one of those bathrooms that conjoins two bedrooms. So, I was wearing a romper (with no-bra), and I was paranoid that taking my romper off to pee would intuitively lure someone into walking into the bathroom to see me…basically naked, just to pee. Well, I ended up locking both doors.

I somehow managed to keep the door to the baseball player’s bedroom locked even after having opened it to exit the bathroom…Leaving both doors to this bathroom locked, preventing anyone from being able to use the rest room for the entirety of the evening. So, at 4:30 am there was my sexy (mostly) naked athlete taking the bathroom door off it’s hinges. While doing this, he was mumbling that it was probably “that stupid tart my friend brought home”, so I agreed and even threw in a “she sounds like a mess!”. I did nothing to help this situation. I took a few photos of him struggling, snapped them to Joan, giggled a bit, then passed the fuck out -because I’m obviously that sort of “fun time” that you take home, locks you out of your bathroom, giggles while you’re struggling, then passes out… and I was probably drooling all over the place. I’m a gem, guys..I really am. Tinder should probably use this story as a testimonial on their site.

The next morning when I woke up for work, my Dodger and I were both still drunk. Still wearing the REALLY short romper I was in the night before, I stole a t-shirt from the Dodger, threw it over my clothes to give myself a little more length in the material department and made my way home. How I managed to get a ride home is still beyond me. Luckily, I made it home with enough time to brush my teeth, and throw my hair up.

After getting home, I found what the night had left of Joan… She was not only still drunk, but had lost her underwear at some point. Apparently she and her friend both woke up with random cuts and bruises and were 80% sure that they beat the shit out of each other during what we assume was really intense foreplay or a back alley fight club. Joan threw up in the bathroom at work twice, and I walked around looking like someone ran me over…twice.

Joan and I had a pretty successful night. We decided being sailors was probably for us, and that we should probably find a boat and take our show to the sea.

*I had talked to the Dodger  for somewhere around a week. He was also not actually a dodger. Just an athlete (team unknown). He was gorgeous, and lovely but we didn’t have a lot in common outside of us both liking his statuesque body. Joan is still really good friend’s with her Tinder Tackle turned bestie.

Do I have any ex or current Tinder users out there in my following!? Or any other site for that matter? I know Tinder doesn’t have the best reputation, and to be honest, I never took tinder seriously. I basically used it to try out different personalities for fun. My next Tinder Tale will be about how one of my best friends and I posed as a lesbian couple looking for a “third”, just for a good laugh (I’m an asshole)…and for the free drinks. 😉

To Be Continued,

B&B

 

Drunk Text That Ex

imageUnless you’re me, and your drunk alter ego is a shady c**t who erases all evidence that you drunk texted AND called your ex the night before.

This is why it’s important to deal with our shit during the day, guys… If we push our feelings down, they’ll bubble up and demand to be acknowledged when we’re in NO capacity to deal with them.

I’m Basic&Bipolar, and I am a chronic drunk texter.

So, apparently after four+ vodkas, I decided to tell my ex he still hasn’t given my movies back after several requests, and “damnit I want them back. They’re mine, you fuck!” -which is wildly embarrassing, and we all know how well anyone would comply to a request like that.

Are any of you equally as embarrassing when drunk and irritated!? -Because I’m embarrassing, and I love a good ‘hot mess’ story! I want to hear ‘m -I know I’m not the only crazy ass out there!

To Be Continued,

B&B

Stagnation

 Relationships without passion: they happen to us all

Lately, I’ve been thinking about romantic relationship dynamics  and the people in my life who I think are either just tolerating their relationships or are wildly unhappy. And from what I’ve noticed in the love lives of my friends and family members, it seems to be a theme that a person ought to settle until something better comes along… Or they stay in these stagnant (and non-passionate) relationships because there’s so much history there.

This realization obviously saddens me (and should sadden us all), because these loved ones are not only settling, but nurturing an unwanted flower with tainted water. Relationships are fucking hard any time two people are involved (I say two people, because my cat and I get along beautifully).

Why bother putting work into a relationship with someone who you don’t really feel excited to be with?

These musings came to me while I was with my friend, discussing a relationship that ended a lifetime ago. It was a saga that went on for years, and it took me a really long time to realize that this individual didn’t give the slightest shit about what was important to me in life. All of the causes that are near and dear to my heart, he never asked about or took interest in my thoughts on them. This was someone who allegedly loved me, but never really knew or liked anything about me as a societal being. The stuff I care about and invest my time into is a HUGE part of who I am. Looking back, I can’t really figure out why he hung around so long if he had no interest in the entirety of who I am.

So, I then decided to look at the relationships of my loved ones….and that’s how I arrived at the mindset that a lot of them are just waiting around until they find something better. Someone whose interests better align with theirs.

After it took so long for me to realize that my past relationship was just a place-holder for a better mate, I never want to be in that type of relationship again. I want to be excited to be with someone; I want to feel honored to be in their life, and vice versa-and I want all of these things for my loved ones (this extends to each of my beautiful readers).

Maybe I’m wrong, and there’s nothing wrong with settling. These are just the musings of one woman.

To Be Continued,

B&B

NoChillChicksHere

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I am the furthest thing from being a “cool chick”.

This is my dating reality: 

I have no idea how to navigate the dating world. I know what type of relationship I want, but I have no idea how to weed through contenders. You’d think I’d have better asshole radar after a decade of dating, but I don’t. And I want to stab myself in the eye every time I hear the phrase “I’m just looking for a chill chick to, you know, hang with.”

Let’s discuss the phenomenon that is “the cool chick”

This concept is one that is pushed on women a lot. I absolutely hate the concept of her. She’s not real: she’s a sexist concept that was probably created by beer commercials.  From what I gather, a “cool” or “chill” chick is the following: unbothered by flakey-ness, DTF always, never gets too emotional, never gets jealous, loves “dude” activities (whatever that means), doesn’t need relationship labels, she’s adventurous, fearless, and is basically a guy with tits.

I have a few ladies in my coven that would fit the majority of those characteristics…but never too emotional? Always unbothered by flakey-ness? …that’s where I, and most women get lost: flakey-ness should never be tolerated, and being emotional is not a negative behavior. We should celebrate uniqueness from one another, and our emotions are one of those unique things we should not be ashamed to celebrate.

If someone stands me up or flakes on me multiple times, I will probably rid my life of that person (romantic or not). I don’t always like “dude” activities -I hate video games (if that’s a dude activity), and I only have sports knowledge when it’s relevant to me. I like labels (and label makers!), as I find that they assist in providing comfort in budding relationships. I am pretty adventurous, but I’m not even mildly fearless…. as I am afraid of almost everything. I am extremely emotional, and I have no shame in letting it be known that I basically have multiple personalities.

Yeah, I’m definitely not an ideal “cool chick”, and dating in my mid-twenties has been a total grab bag of mixed results. Unrealistic expectations make dating even harder. Women are not two-dimensional creatures. You can’t get the woman that loves sports, AND likes to keep things casual for THREE years. That’s not a thing, guys. We have complex personalities. We aren’t…men. I will probably always be adventurous, but also extremely neurotic and love labels (of all kinds).

Basically, dating in my twenties is the worst. And down with this “chill chick” concept!

To Be Continued,

B&B