Dating Tips. Very Bad Dating Tips.

Now that I’m married, it’s become clear to me that I have priceless dating tips to offer. All of my single friends ask me what my secret was to landing my perfect man. And this is hilarious to me, because the truth is, had we not had a mutual friend in common and had I not had some liquid courage in me at the time, I probably would have run for the nearest closet to hide in when I met Captain Thoughtful. Because that’s how I rolled. I was not a good dater. I was a flirtation failure. Basically, all the things I’m getting credit for now, I was really really bad at. But, what the hell, you want my dating tips? Sure. I’ll give ’em to you.

1. Never repeat name date. I think dating someone with the same name of someone else you previously dated is bad luck.

2. Don’t ever let the person you’re dating see you cry when watching Titanic or Armageddon.

3. Only ever order 1 taco at dinner.

4. Don’t use emoticons when texting.

5.  Don’t tell them about the crazy people in your family on the first date.


Hand to heaven, these were real dating tips I lived by pre-Captain Thoughtful. And I broke most of them while dating him (except rule number 2, that’s a thing I don’t like to subject anyone to). So maybe, takes these and then do the opposite of them and things will work out splendidly! Or, you know, real talk, liquid courage worked out pretty well for us.



A Contrarian’s Rules For Dating.

So, I’m getting married in like, 5 days. And by “like 5 days” I mean, exactly 5 days. And I thought to myself, “Hey self. You’re getting married to the love of your life. You must be SUPER AWESOME at dating because you totally won the dating game when he put a ring on it.” (Note: that’s the reason engaged women wear rings, because it’s like the trophy for winning at dating. Not because it makes you someone’s property.) Then I continued talking to myself, as I am want to do, “Self, it’s me again, yourself, and I was thinking that since we won the dating game, we should share our rules for dating with the world so everyone can be a winner because we are a really really good person that everyone should love and want to give presents to.”  It’s really hard to argue with that logic so here are my rules for dating.

1. Never repeat name date. That means you never date more than one person with the same name. It’s bad luck.

2. Make sure the person you’re dating understands that you know how to Google Bomb them. Just in case things get ugly.

3. If some idiot breaks up with you. Don’t be friends with them after. At least for a little while. You need to grieve the relationship and eat icing straight from a can before you’re ready to be friends.

4. Assess your date very seriously by asking yourself “How would they fare in an apocalyptic situation? Would they be of any use to me?”

5. If you make a Harry Potter reference and he/she doesn’t get it. Run like hell.

I’m just saying, it totally worked for me.

This Is My Brain. This Is My Brain On A Date.

Just Say No

This is my brain on a normal day: Beep bop boop beep. What’s for breakfast? What’s for lunch? What’s for dinner? Music, music, music. Marketing, marketing, marketing. I want a snack. Florence and the Machine. Kings of Leon. I wish my life was a musical comedy. Oh wait, my life is a musical comedy. Daydream, daydream, daydream. Blog, blog, blog. Awkward moment. I wish I had cotton candy. Awkward moment I need to remember to blog about later. Daydream about becoming a well-paid and successful author. Daydream about cotton candy clouds. Imaginary interviews. I want to go to London. I want a snack. Adele. Green tea. Gummy worms. Green tea. Gummi butterflies (yeah it’s a thing). Writing, writing, writing. Awkward moment. Hilarious joke I need to blog about. Jazz hands. Ryan Gosling daydream. Jazz hands.

This is my brain on a date: Sweet mother of Zeus, how did I get on a date? Is this a dream? This is awkward. Why is this so awkward? Am I making this awkward? I’m totally making this awkward. Should I hold his hand? Should he hold my hand? Do I let him pay? Do I offer to pay? I don’t want to pay. Do I have something in my teeth? Oh gross, what if I have something in my teeth? No way is this guy going to like me after this. Why did he ask me out? How did this happen? Ok. OK. Play it cool GotC. Play it cool. Cool boys *snap* *snap* real cool…….stop! This isn’t West Side Story. How great would it be if this was West Side Story?! Wait. Not great because then one of us would die. Oh man. Is he making a move? Nope. No move. Should I make a move? He’s so nice. Why is he so nice? Maybe he doesn’t think this is a date. Oh my heavens! What if he doesn’t think of this as a date? I made up the whole dating scenario in my head didn’t I? I totally did. So humiliated. Wait. He just paid for me. That’s a date, right? Why didn’t reading Goosebumps prepare me for this? C’mon R.L. give a girl some dating advice. Ha. I bet dating advice from R.L. Stine would be brilliant! Did he just compliment me? I don’t know, I was too busy wondering what kind of dating advice R.L. Stine would give. Umm……ok, just smile and nod. I’m an idiot. Smile and nod?! He probably thinks I’m a moron. Tell a joke. Stupid joke. Why did I say that joke? Tell him about your blog so he knows you’re hilarious. No wait! Stop! Don’t tell him about your blog. Abort. Abort. If he reads your blog he’ll know you’re completely mental. Whew. Dodged that bullet. But how to convince him I’m charming and funny? Think of something topical. Nope, too late. Moment has passed. He’s over it. This is a disaster. I’m a disaster. Where is the nearest closet to hide in?

Just say no kids. Just say no.

He’s Just Not That Into You. Or Is He?

He's Just Not That Into You

I’m sure you’ve all heard about the book He’s Just Not That Into You. Or maybe you saw the movie. Or maybe you saw the Sex & The City episode where it all began. If you haven’t heard of the book, seen the movie, or watched the SATC episode, I need to first question your life choices. Next, I need to explain to you what this book is all about. Basically, HJNTIY (abbreviated because it’s annoyingly long and possibly poisonous) is a book written by a man and a woman about how most of the guys you like or are dating or are in a relationship with don’t really like you.

I read this book as soon as it was released. I watched the authors on Oprah. I was a believer. I was liberated by this book. It was like “Hey. It’s good to know up front that you don’t like me so I don’t waste any of my time fretting and shaving my legs. Don’t worry, you don’t have to say you don’t like me. This book already told me you don’t like me.”  And believe it or not, that felt kind of good. For quite some time, I wasn’t concerned with whether or not guys were interested in me because HJNTIY told me they weren’t. If a guy wasn’t calling, texting, making plans with, or making out with me then he just wasn’t that into me. If a guy initially called, texted, made plans with, and made out with me and then failed to do one of those things, even missed one day, it meant he may have been into me but was no longer into me anymore. And I believed that because HJNTIY was on Oprah and therefore the gospel truth. Imagine me wasting all those years thinking guys liked me! How foolish. How childish. Finally, I was freed from that silliness and could now move forward knowing that almost every guy I met/liked would not be into me.

Great. So it made me feel good, until it made me feel like crap. This book had me convinced that none of the guys I liked were into me. Even the ones who probably were. If a guy I was dating didn’t call, text, make plans with, or make out with me, even missed one day, I was over it. I bailed out faster that Wall Street (BOOM economic humor). I didn’t give them a chance because I decided that they didn’t like me. Why did I decide that? Because HJNTIY told me to. Also, there may have been an element of self-preservation in there but I’m really more comfortable blaming outside sources.

For years, this book poisoned my mind against guys and against myself. Even though the book tells you time and time again that you’re beautiful, desirable, and utterly fantabulous it follows up all of those comments by telling you the guy you like doesn’t like you back so…..kind of a mixed message there. Don’t get me wrong, I really do think the heart of this book is in the right place, I just think it would have been much better to say “Hey. Don’t date assholes.” although, that would have been a much shorter book and Oprah probably wouldn’t approve. And sure, yes, if a guy never calls and always bails on you, he is probably not that into you, but if he misses one day then maybe don’t pull out the fried chicken and ice cream just yet, he’s probably still into you. Maybe don’t freak out and preemptively dump him.

And believe me, I totally sympathize with the get out before you get hurt instinct, hell, I would say that’s been the overall theme of my dating history, but some guys are totally worth ignoring that instinct for and conversely some aren’t. I don’t know, use your best judgement not some over-generalized and slightly insulting books. And hey, don’t date assholes.

I May Have Gotten Stuck In A Wormhole.

Why do they have to be in high-heels?

Check-check-check-check it out. I flirted y’all. And not only did I flirt, I flirted successfully. My sudden onset of flirtation domination can only be a result of one of the following…

1. I got stuck in a wormhole.

2. I was possessed by a very sassy ghost.

3. I was possessed by a very sassy ghost while stuck in a wormhole.

4. I was drunk. (P.S. I wasn’t drunk)

5. Cupid punched me in the face and gave me a concussion.

So, what do you think? Where did my sudden skills at flirting come from? I’m open to other suggestions, but for my money, it was probably because of number 3. And I bet you all want me to give you the play-by-play of what happened but I’m keeping mum for now because I’m a lady and prefer not to publicize my romantic conquests on a blog.

Just kidding. I’m totally going to tell you guys what happened. Maybe. Not today but another day that has a “y” in it like “New Year’s Day” (now with a lot more “y”!)

Kissing and Collaboration

Hi y’all! We (Cappy of Writer’s Block fame and Girl on the Contrary) have decided to collaborate on a blog. We know, we know. The world’s been waiting for this one for a looooong time. We’ve known each other (through the interwebs) for over a year now, and we thought it would be only appropriate to celebrate our anniversary by posting together. So here goes.



Cappy: The first kiss: it happens to the best of us. And they happen over and over (if you’re lucky…or unlucky, if you’re looking simply for “the one”). Of course, Girl on the Contrary and I were about 97 when we had ours (not together…) since we’re slight flirtation failures, but nevertheless, it happens.

We’re romantics. You can tell by the fact that we wear corsets and walk around knighting people all the time. So we figured we’d talk about what we deem acceptable and unacceptable vis-a-vis first kisses.

Girl on the Contrary: Cappy is being too modest. She was actually 95 when she had her first kiss, she just didn’t want to tell you that for fear you would think she was a “hoochie-mama” (those were her words, not mine, I would never say “hoochie-mama”, I prefer the term amorously gifted. It hasn’t caught on yet.) She was right about one thing, however, I do like to knight people, but only those who have shown themselves to be valorous in some way- like letting me cut in front of them in the grocery store check-out. I’m not really romantic, I just like romance. Anyway, I definintely like kissing so it’s worth discussing, and by worth it, I mean Cappy and I plan to make a lot of money writing about kissing. So, like, really worth it.

The Place


Cappy: On a balcony. So Rom & Jul.
In a wheat field during a sunset…but hey, don’t wear shorts, or severe chafing will ensue and your kiss scenario will be demoted to the bad section of this list.
On a sailboat…during a sunset? Don’t lean against a sail or anything though. Don’t want to lose your balance and get eaten by a shark! That’s not romantic.
On an albatross. Because, really, it’s bloody well magestic.
In a hot air balloon. Just don’t hit a plane or something. We’re not sure it’s possible, but it would be just our luck.

GotC: In a closet. As I understand it, when two people go into a closet together, it turns into Heaven for like 7 minutes. Also, beaches. Also, also, my living room couch. It’s so simple yet so perfect.


Cappy: A field just as a crop duster passes overhead.
An albatross that really needs to potty.
A balcony…because, really…do we WANT to compare ourselves to Rom and Jul? They. Died. And it wasn’t just like a little, painless death. Their deaths were filled with poison, heartbreak, and stab wounds. I blame the friar.

GotC: I agree, it was totally the friar’s fault. Also, cars. It’s super awkward and there are arm rests and seat belts to deal with. Also, also, under bleachers at any sporting events. Steer clear of under the bleachers because before you know it, other kids will be calling you “amorously gifted.”

The Mood


Cappy: Dark-ish. Because he might not be that cute. And you don’t necessarily want to see his fish face looming in on you and then you all of a sudden think, “WHAT AM I GETTING MYSELF INTO?!” But then maybe that’s what you SHOULD think, and you’d better think it fast before he starts ripping your clothes off.

GotC: If Clueless taught me anything, it taught me that lighting it crucial. Florescent lighting is not flattering on anyone so avoid places with florescent lighting. Dusk is nice. So is twilight. I’m pretty sure those two are the same thing.


Cappy: Totally dark. You don’t want any wandering hand action to be happening…unless, you know, you DO want wandering hand action. But at this point we’re only talking about the first kiss, not the first grope.

GOTC: Too bright. You don’t want to see too much, trust me on that.

The Caress

Cappy: If he grabs your head and locks it in, we have a problem. But if he touches your face, whispers something nice, says you’re pretty when your eyes are closed, etc…well, actually, he’s probably just Edward Cullen and you should get your holy water out. The caressing should be nice, but really, no matter what he does, it’ll seem kinda dumb when you say it out loud.

GotC: Ah, the caress. Super sappy, super romantic, super necessary. A touch of the face, a holding of the hand, when he pushes your hair behind your ear……..I’m going to stop now because I think you get it and if you don’t, you need to watch some movie adaptations of Jane Austen novels, they usually get it right in the sweet caresses department.

The Whole Package

Cappy: You should feel nice afterward, and your tonsils should remain intact, thank you very much.
And that, my friends, is kissing advice from two foxy ladies who just like to keep it real. You like us. Admit it. Actually, don’t admit it, just show your love with a little smoochin’.

GotC: You should be smiling, and every time you think about it afterward, you should smile. And if you’re not smiling or don’t ever think of it again, it wasn’t done properly. Also, according to conventional wisdom, unlike us, you’re not supposed to talk about it.

So there you have it. We’ve tested all these scenarios out, so they’re like, totally scientific and everything. Just listen to us and we promise, you’ll have a lotta luck in love. Meow.


People-We need to talk about Cappy. I love her. I love her the way an anonymous humor blogger loves another anonymous humor blogger. Part of my love is fueled by the fact that she was one of the first to read this blog, and another part is fueled by the fact that she says really nice and flattering things about me, and still another part is fueled by the fact that I’m really jealous that her name is Cappy. But mostly, I just love her because she is funny as hell and has a great voice. You should be reading her blog. For real y’all. Cappy is the bees knees and you need to get hip to her jive.

What say you? Any kissing tips we missed (and that won’t get my blog flagged as inappropriate…..)

Lies I Told My Boyfriend


I heard that confession is good for the soul and I also heard that liar’s pants catch on fire, so, in the interest of my soul and my pants, I have some confessing to do. I wasn’t always completely honest in some of my past relationships- to spell it out for you I L-I-E-D. And I need to clear my conscious and admit those lies and I figure the best place to do that is the interweb because it reaches most people and robots. Please don’t think too poorly of me after this, when I told these lies I was young and immature, as opposed to now, when I’m old and immature.

Lie. “I’m not really that hungry, I’ll just have a salad.”

Truth. I was starving. My stomach was literally eating itself, but I didn’t want him to think I was a fatty fatty fat fat. Also, afterwards, I went home and ate like 3 boxes of bagel bites.

Lie. “Seriously, you don’t have to call me everyday. I’m not one of those girls.”

Truth. I was super pissed when he didn’t call me everyday. And I was well aware even then that the fact that I was mad at him was completely mental.

Lie. “Your friends of soooo funny. I really like them.”

Truth. Didn’t like one of them even a little bit.

Lie. “It’s so sweet when you call me “baby”. ”

Truth. Hate it. Hate it so much it makes every muscle in my body tense up when I hear it as if I am preparing for battle.

Lie. “You should totally start a band. You would be brilliant in a band.”

Truth. That kid didn’t have an ounce of musical talent or taste in his body.

Lie. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine.”

Truth. Oh, something was wrong and I was definitely not fine. Poor kid, he didn’t have a chance.

Lie. “You’re right! This is an epic song.”

Truth. An epic tragedy and a musical affront to all mankind.

Wow. If I had a talking cricket (let’s call him Jiminy) who steered me in the right direction, he would be really proud right now. Also, I wouldn’t have to be a puppet anymore and it didn’t even require me surviving being swallowed by an ill-tempered whale while trying to find my Papa Gepeto. Oh happy day!

Also, I owe an apology to all those boyfriends past. Sorry guys! The truth is, I was always hungry, I wanted you to call, I didn’t like your friends, I don’t like being called baby, your band would have been terrible, I was mad as hell, and I think you have awful taste in music. But on the bright side, considering what I just told you, aren’t you glad we broke up? Silver lining fellas, silver lining.