Tuesday, November 30, 2010

the online dating dilemma

Internet dating has been around for 15+ years now. There are multiple websites (Match, E-Harmony, OK Cupid, J-Date, etc), multiple members, and multiple marriages that credit their unions to the advent of profile pages. So, why is there still a stigma? Why does it feel so much more respectable to meet someone in a stinky bar twenty minutes before last call?

I blame the “Meet-Cute”: the scene in a romantic comedy when a couple crosses paths for the first time. It’s always under some hilarious circumstances with a healthy dose of flirty banter and sexual tension. And it’s conditioned us all to expect a romantic run in with our future spouse that we’ll recount to our grandkids. We’re obsessed with the “story” and “we met online” just doesn’t have much of a ring to it. I say, fuck that. Aren’t we way past expecting relationships to play out the way they do in movies?

Okay, I know what you’re thinking. Easy for you to say Saaara, you’re in a relationship and you’ve never joined an online dating service in your life. This is true. BUT if for some reason I became single tomorrow, after the proper mourning period and a bevy of angry BLOW OFF posts, I’d start online dating. I swear.

Here’s why. I’m the type of person that likes to make things happen. I can’t sit around idly and hope that someone knocks on the door with my dream job or a free house. I’m a go-getter. I also value my time. Who wants to find out three dates in that a guy loves Jesus? Think of all the time and energy you’d save learning that in their dating profile? Also, people with significant others no longer enjoy being wingmen. We all claim we do, but the best part of not being single is not have to go to bars and talk to randoms. I’m fiercely independent and wouldn’t want to rely on my girlfriends to chaperone me while I’m on the prowl. Finally, there’s nothing worse than meeting someone perfect and then finding out they’re not ready to date cause they just got out of a five year relationship two weeks ago. Chances are…if they’ve filled out a dating profile, they’re ready to dive right in.

Also, you know how Elisabeth Hasselbeck always says on The View that just because a teenaged girl decides to have sex, it doesn’t mean she has to keep having sex? Well, the same goes for online dating! Just because you tried it once doesn’t mean you have to do it from now on. If it’s not for you, you can delete your profile and never attempt it again.

Yet most of the people I know that are single have the same point of view RE: online dating. They’re not ready to go there….like it should be the last desperate straw to meeting someone…like you shouldn’t even attempt it unless the last person you went out with tried to murder you and eat you for dinner. Well, I think we need to stop the insanity. Cause there’s nothing more romantic and honest than people who admit they want to meet someone. And those people are all online dating.

Monday, November 29, 2010

glossary of a BLOW OFF: buyer's remorse

Buyer's Remorse
function: noun
Origin: since black Mon-Sun
Definition:that feeling of regret, fear, anxiety, and depression you get after you've taken a relationship further than intended.

(I thought Jane and I were keeping it casual, but suddenly we stopped using condoms and she told me she loved me. Meanwhile, I've realized I find her physically repulsive. Man, buyer's remorse is a total drag.)

We've all been there. We're lonely, we're horny, we need a little retail therapy and you're on sale for half off. We force a relationship when deep down we know we're not that into you. We sleep with you enough times to convince ourselves that maybe you've got potential. After weeks of pillow talk, we actually start believing we might fall for you. And then, one morning, six or so months down the road...you do something that snaps us out of our fake reverie. Like... let out a smelly burp or wear a really bad outfit or stink up our bathroom or admit you like John Mayer or lay in a weird pose naked with the lights on or drip sweat right into our unclogged pores during sex.

What the fuck were we thinking by dating you for so long?! You were supposed to be a one night stand. Why did we introduce you to our parents? And why didn't you come with a better return/exchange policy? Is it too late to re-gift you or should we just cut our losses and donate you to the salvation army?

Buyer's remorse. It's the motherfucking pits.

Friday, November 26, 2010

BLOW OFF song of the day: Runaway by Kanye West



"Baby, I got a plan. Runaway as fast as you can."
-Kanye West, 2010

Thursday, November 25, 2010

pop culture BLOW OFF of the day: hoo-ha! Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I hope you're all surrounded by friends and family and food. And I hope you all get really fat. Like sign up for The Biggest Loser fat. And I hope all the people that have ever blown me off get the runs after their first bite of turkey.

Here's a nice little Thanksgiving pop culture BLOW OFF to get you in the holiday spirit. In honor of this clip, let's all make a pact to say "hoo-ha" in response to every other thing someone says around our dinner tables today. I hope none of your family members throw down at the table like Randy and Frank do in Scent of a Woman. At our Thanksgiving celebration, we've got two relatives in attendance who've refused to see or speak to each other in months. It's gonna be awesome...

P.S. Aren't you super thankful for this blog? That's what I thought.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

how to not lose a girl in ten days

Boys, you need to do better. Maybe some of you aren't pulling your weight, because you're dating girls you don't really want to be with...but some of you have awesome girlfriends and you're still fucking that shit up. So, here's our top ten list on how NOT to lose a girl in ten days. The below has been compiled from years of valuable "girl talk". Pay attention. You might learn a thing or two.

10. Sending a text message takes about 15 seconds. Don't disappear without a trace for two days and then tell us you didn't have time to text. Look, we're sorry to break it to you. You're not Don Draper and this isn't the 1960s. You live in the 21st century and you have a cell phone and the internet. Which means you have absolutely no fucking excuse for being M.I.A. And maybe you mean nothing by it, but trust us, we have post traumatic stress disorder from guys we've let do things to us we never thought we'd allow...that never called again. Don't test us.

9. Wait, guess what?! We have the perfect way for you to live out your Don Draper fantasy! Yes, maybe in the 60s men chain smoked, drank martinis for breakfast, and banged their secretaries without the guilt--- but do you know what else they did? They paid for dinner. Seriously, there was no going dutch back then. And that's why a very small part of us ladies secretly envies Betty Draper. We're not even asking you to treat us to dinner all the time, we're asking you to treat like one out of every three times. And it doesn't count if you ask us to put in the tip.

8. Penis's smell too. Please shower.

7. It's okay for you to like our friends. We want you to like them. It's not okay to casually reference how attractive they are. Cause our friends won't sleep with you. But I have a feeling yours might conveniently space out on that whole "bros before hos" thing if propositioned. I'm just sayin'...

6. Last weekend we went to your friend's impromptu house party and stayed til 3AM. This weekend we're at my best friend's wedding. And I'm a bridesmaid. And no, we can't leave at 11pm, so stop looking bored and stop asking if I'm about ready to go. Get another drink, get on the dance floor, look happy, and bust a motherfucking move.

5. Speaking of busting a move: there's a reason us ladies have huge boners for Justin Timberlake. Guys who can dance are sexy. We don't even need you to dance well, you can just stand still and nod your head and blink your eyes and we'd be happy. I mean, I don't get it. You guys used to dance your asses off at junior high dances. Can't you just pretend you're twelve again and never touched a boob?

4. If you ever choose anything (booze, the dudes, TV) over having sex with us, you're a fucking idiot. And fucking idiots don't deserve blow jobs.

3. We know you hate to cuddle after sex, but do you know what we hate after sex? A sweaty sprawled out naked guy who's penis looks a lot smaller than it did five minutes ago. You know what would make us forget about that? Cuddling.

2. Flirting, in small doses, is healthy and harmless. I know you don't know this, but your girlfriend likes to flirt with other guys. But she doesn't do it in front of you. Or on Facebook. Or in a text message. Or anywhere you will ever find out about it. If you guys don't man up and do the same, I guess us gals will have no choice but to take our mad flirting skills public.

1. Four words that will make all the difference. Learn them, love them, live by them.
"You look really pretty." Yes, we're that easy.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

visualize the question mark

For those of you that are currently between relationships and looking for someone to settle down with, here's a piece of advice: visualize the question mark. I know what you're thinking. WTF does that mean? Well, it's a little something I made up during a dry patch in my early twenties. A time when I had about -5 dating prospects.

The "question mark" is that guy or girl you're waiting to meet. The person that will make all the other blow offs you've endured worth it.

Now, I'm not a huge believer in laws of attraction. I don't necessarily think something will happen just because you think about it long enough, but I found a lot of comfort in visualizing my question mark man. For me, the worst thing about having no dating prospects was going to sleep at night with no one to think about: no one I looked forward to seeing the next day, no one I wanted to dress extra cute for, no one I wanted to download the details of my day with. Those nights were extra lonely. But instead of taking sleeping pills to make the pain go away, I just visualized my question mark man. The guy who took me to see some folk singer play in some tiny club, the guy who rubbed my back til I fell asleep, the guy who loved cheese plates as much as I did, the guy who watched art house flicks and bad reality TV. So what if his face was a little blurry and obscured by a giant question mark? He'd come into focus eventually.

So, if you're going to sleep tonight with no one to think about...put on a little Bright Eyes and visualize the question mark. Before you know it, question mark = that lovely lump of flesh that steals the sheets and farts in bed. But cuddles like a total champ.


Monday, November 22, 2010

the blackberry BLOW OFF

My name is Saaara and I'm an addict. A Blackberry addict. It's true. I love checking my phone. If it's been more than thirty minutes since someone has texted, pinged, or emailed me, I take the battery out of my Blackberry to make sure it's working correctly. If I forget my phone at home, I start twitching. Uncontrollably.

And yet, I still find it incredibly rude when I'm having a meal with someone and they answer the phone or respond to a text. Can't they just sneak away and do that shit in the bathroom like I do? Last week, I even had to take to my twitter feed to bitch about strangers that talk loudly on their cell phones in public spaces. Cause even though my phone is like my crystal meth, I'm at least relatively good at hiding my habit. It's called etiquette, common courtesy, having manners.

For instance, I try really hard not to text and drive. I mean, did you not see that Oprah episode about all the people that have been killed by texting drivers? Admittedly, I need to get better at this. I still glance at my phone and send texts at red lights. Other than that, I'm a big believer in "hands free" chatting. My car is Bluetooth enabled, thank you very much. I'm still horrified by the number of people I see talking on their phones, while driving.

I also keep my phone on silent pretty much around the clock, which frustrates my loved ones to no end, because I never answer my phone. It's not my fault, I just don't know they're calling. Besides, if a phone rings and it's on silent and there's no one there to hear it, is anyone really calling anyway? That said, ever since I changed my ring tone to the Friday Night Lights theme song, I tend to keep the ringer on more often.

Finally, I rarely answer calls (or check my fantasy basketball scores...you know who are) while I'm in the company of friends. And I try to never talk loudly in public on the phone. My cousin was recently at a foot spa, getting a massage, when she fell victim to a loud cell phone talker. Apparently, the loud talker made the mistake of giving the person on the other end of her line her phone number. My cousin, being the hilariously awesome person she is, memorized the girl's phone number and texted her later to remind her to be polite and not talk on her cell phone at a massage place. Now, that my friends is an awesome BLOW OFF.

Friday, November 19, 2010

BLOW OFF song of the day: Glycerine by Bush



"It must be your skin that I'm sinking in, it must be for real, cause now I can feel."
-Bush, 1994

I spent so many hours of my high school life laying in bed and listening to this song. Unrequited love blows!

Thursday, November 18, 2010

the top ten ways to get BLOWN OFF

Hi Readers. So, before you cry to your family, friends, facebook community, priest, and neighborhood bum about getting BLOWN OFF, take a look at this little list we've compiled of what we think are the top ten worst ways to get blown off.

10. Getting dumped after you've quit your job, packed your bags, and moved to a new city to be with the person you thought was "the one." We're not done yet, that city is Stockton, CA. But look on the bright side, it's only the #2 most miserable city to live in.

9. You find out your sig other cheated when they give you a wicked STD. Something that never goes away like Herpes or HIV.

8. It's not you, it's him and the fact that he wants to have his penis surgically removed so he can replace it with a vagina.

7. It's not you, it's him and the fact that he wants to stick his penis inside another man's mouth.

6. It's bad enough getting dumped, it's even worse getting your entire bank account emptied out, while watching your credit score plummet in the process. And then having to turn tricks to pay rent.

5. He fucked a series of strippers, waitresses, and porn stars. That's right, WAITRESSES. (note: this doesn't make the list if you got $100 million to make up for it. What was that? Money doesn't make the pain go away? Money doesn't make you trust again? Oh fuck yeah it does.)

4. He blew you off, then posted a picture of you spread eagle on Facebook and tagged your parents. Wait, it gets worse. You hadn't gotten a bikini wax in weeks.

3. You were married for years and he seemed like a perfectly nice guy, but it turns out he kept your oldest daughter chained to a wall in the attic and had like five babies with her. And all this time you thought she ran away from home.

2. Two words: murder-suicide.

1. He blew you off, then moved on with...Angelina Jolie and had like fifteen kids with her.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

f$%& buddies & the BLOW OFF

A fuck buddy is by no means a new concept. It's a person we like enough to call our friend, like enough to call for a booty call, but don't like enough to actually call our boyfriend/girlfriend. Personally, I've never had one (yes, mom and dad, you can breathe a sigh of relief), but I know a lot of people who have and it's usually ended badly. I guess the main thing fuck buddies are up against is that the whole "just sex" arrangement can't last forever. One person ends up wanting more or ends up finding someone actually worthy of meeting the parents. If anyone knows a story of fuck buddies who actually ended up together, you know our email address.

Now, for one that didn't work: an old friend of mine was stuck in a dead end relationship with her FB. They started sleeping together our senior year in high school and he wanted to keep things on the DL. He was "popular" and she wasn't. But she put out. She agreed to the arrangement, only telling a few of her close friends about her new bed-mate (or car mate, actually). (Keep in mind, outside of the high school social norms, she was a million times better than him.) Months later, things finally came to a head and he showed his true awful colors. It should have been the end of their "relationship" but they continued hooking up off and on for the next FIVE YEARS. I lived with her one summer in college and it made me sick to my stomach every time he came over at 3am. I think the unflushed condom in the toilet was my breaking point. Anyway, she literally found Jesus, stopped seeing him, and most likely forgave him for the way he treated her, but I still have fantasies about sending him hate mail on Facebook. As for our friendship, it never fully recovered.

So, all of that said, I had to laugh a little after watching the below trailers for the movies No Strings (with Natalie Portman and Ashton Kutcher) and Friends With Benefits (with Mila Kunis and JT). My friend did not get a happy ending with her fuck buddy, but I have a feeling Natalie and Mila end up getting luckier. Let's just hope neither of these movies end with someone running through an airport. I'm torn on which one looks better, Friends with Benefits has Justin...but No Strings has Mindy Kaling (!) Check them out:



Tuesday, November 16, 2010

the BLOW OFF: celebrity couple flashback

Get in your time machines everyone, we're going back to...1990....

The year Johnny Depp & Winona Ryder were engaged and madly in love. God, pasty looked SO much cooler on them than it does on boring Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson.

In case you're twelve or did a lot of drugs in the early 90s, here's their love story in a nutshell.

Like the way all good celebrity relationships begin, they met at an event, locked eyes across the room, and it was like love at first sight (well, if you didn't count the fact that they already knew who each other were, cause they were FAMOUS.) Unfortunately, Johnny Depp was like the male Kate Hudson of his time. He'd already been engaged twice--- once to Sherilyn Fenn (who? Um, netflix Boxing Helena or Twin Peaks) and Jennifer Grey (see Dancing with the Stars). But he never really knew love until he met Winona so he put a ring on it--- again.

BTW, Winona was 19 at the time. That's younger than Taylor Swift, folks.

This relationship started the unfortunate trend of getting a person's name tattooed on your body. Johnny famously had "winona forever" inked on his arm. Little did he know, it should have said "winona, give or take three years."

Once they parted ways, he changed the tat to "wino forever" and then went on to seriously win their break up. The guy has been labeled the biggest movie star in the world, but Winona loved him even when he was still doing 21 Jump Street. We all know what happened to her. She became an insomniac pill popper with an affinity for stealing. But I don't care, she's still a 90s icon and I can't wait for her to make a comeback this year.

Winona. Forever.

Monday, November 15, 2010

glossary of a BLOW OFF: a "Prawn"

a "Prawn"
function: noun
Origin: since my f word (Ahem, fiance) told me about it at dinner the other night.
Definition: keep the body, throw away the head. Enuff said.

(Bill's such a prawn--- he's seriously ripped, but his faced is buuuusted y'all.)

So, this is like the opposite of when rude a-holes tell an overweight person they have a really pretty face? Hmmmm. There's definitely an abundance of prawns at my gym. Mostly the guys with douche bag Mohawks who STILL wear trucker hats! There's also a few celebrity prawns out there...like Jessica Biel. Smokin' hot bod, but yikes...that face. The poor girl. Or Ryan Reynolds for instance. The guy is ab-tastic, but he has a striking resemblance to Sloth from The Goonies. Who wants to bet ScarJo totally keeps her eyes closed when they get frisky? anybody...? anybody...?

Friday, November 12, 2010

BLOW OFF song of the day: Irreplaceable by Beyonce



"You must not know 'bout me, you must not know 'bout me. I can have another you in a minute, matter fact he'll be here in a minute, baby."
-Beyonce, 2006

PS It's kind of uncanny how much Beyonce and I look alike when I have curlers in my hair.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

terrible taste in music & the BLOW OFF

Why is it such a giant turn off when the person you're dating has terrible taste in music? I'll tell you why. Cause a person's musical taste totally determines whether they are super cool or a total dork. Case in point: Radiohead: you're cool. John Mayer: you're a dork

Okay, fine. I have considered changing the name of this blog to "Johnmayersucksbuttholes.com"

But I digress. Back to shitty music. A friend of mine was recently dating this guy, who was great on paper, but wasn't really her type. She decided to give him a chance and let things take their course. One day, he told her he'd gotten them tickets to see one of his favorite female vocalists...Vanessa Carlton. RED FLAG. What guy in his 30s listens to Vanessa Carlton? Who listens to Vanessa Carlton that's not sixteen and still living in 2002?

But she tried to stay positive. After all, it was the thought that counts. He bought her a ticket which was sweet and showed that he was the kind of guy who was good at planning dates. She went to the show despite the fact that her musical tastes veered more towards bands like Yo La Tengo and the Magnetic Fields (cool and cool). It gets worse. They go to the concert and the guy completely rocks out the whole time. Not like normal clapping along, tapping your foot, rocking out. Like I've dropped acid and I'm at a Phish concert rocking out. Maybe he sensed she was less into it, because that was their last date.

Now, I think I have pretty decent taste in music...spanning the ironic & cheesy (Gaga, Britney) to the somewhat obscure (Aqueduct, The National, Crooked Teeth--- okay, i made up crooked teeth, but you know what i mean by obscure: indie rock.) But before you call me a music snob for this blog post, you should know I've made a couple of giant missteps with boys and music.

Circa 1997. I told my high school crush who loved Bob Dylan and Jimi Hendrix that I liked the Monkees. I was persona non grata after that.

Circa 2002. This boy I was dating was all about the mixed CDs. He introduced me to bands like Built to Spill and Mates of State. I decided to return him the favor by making him a mixed tape...of Jack Johnson. WTF was I thinking? I mean, I was introduced to Jack Johnson by the guy I hooked up with sophomore year in college who hugged trees and bathed in hemp. This guy wore skinny jeans and vintage sweaters. I swear, things were never the same after that. Thank God he never knew I loved rocking out to ABBA in my bedroom (the best pop band ever in the world.)

Circa 2005. The boy I'm currently dating (okay, fine. I'll use the F word. My fiance) is all about obscure hip hop. Suddenly, my collection of Modest Mouse and Death Cab wasn't quite as cool and I was getting teased for being "too emo." Whatever, it didn't matter...by then, I was too old and set in my musical tastes to be ashamed.

And as for my Jack Johnson mix tape, yeah-- it's embarrassing. But, in my defense, Jack Johnson is hot. Like if Ben Affleck had curly hair and played guitar hot. Don't take my word for it...



Wednesday, November 10, 2010

pop culture BLOW OFF of the day: it is not just one body part going into another body part

It's no secret that I'm obsessed with Friday Night Lights (AKA the best show on TV). This clip is from one of my all time favorite episodes from season one where Julie and Matt decide to BLOW OFF their virginity and have sex. But when you live in small town like Dillon, there's a 99% chance your girlfriend's mom will see you buy condoms. Oops.

Check out this amazing scene between Tami and Julie Taylor, the world's most realistic TV family. Connie Britton should have been nominated for an Emmy for this one. She's like the Meryl Streep of TV moms. Anyway, remember how daunting the whole sex thing was back when we were in high school? Those days are long gone.

Oh, and side note to our straight girls and gay boy readers and fans of the show: who's your favorite FNL hottie pa-tottie? Saracen, Riggins, Street, Smash, Landry, or Coach Taylor? Is it just me or is it like impossible to just pick one?

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

RIP: Darren Aronofsky & Rachel Weisz

Their reps say: "Rachel Weisz and Darren Aronofsky have been separated for some months. They remain close friends and are committed to raising their son together in NYC."

Months?! How the heck do these celebs keep their break ups a secret for so freaking long? Or do they just say that so it sounds like it's no biggie?

Rumor has it Rachel's been shacking up with Daniel Craig. My theory is that Darren's one of those obsessive workaholic directors---which is totally sexy when you first start dating and he's putting you in his movies...but not so cool when he's off in ballerina land with Natalie Portman. Do you guys think the break up with Rachel put him into a tail spin that ended with him signing on to direct Wolverine II? I do.

mutual friends & the BLOW OFF

You've been dating for a long time, had sex, fallen in love, had less sex, fallen out of love...and then one day you wake up and realize it's time for a big fat wet BLOW OFF. Here's the problem: somewhere along the course of your relationship his/her friends became your friends. If you break up, who do you hang out with? It's bad enough to be out a lover, but now you're out a shitload of drinking buddies too.

This sucks. I say only keep around the mutual friends that really mean something to you. And even then, limit the time you spend with them. Otherwise, your ex just becomes the huge elephant in the room that you never talk about...when the whole time you're wondering what your friend knows about the old gf and aren't telling you. (i.e. she moved on a long time ago and her new BF is way hotter than you.)

Also, if one of the mutual friends is way closer to you than they are to the ex, I think it's fair to expect them to stop hanging out with public enemy #1. After all, if you weren't part of the equation, they would have never been friends in the first place. And now that you're out of the equation, the two of them don't add up. (Wow, the puns are just pouring out of me today.)

The best rule of thumb is to avoid trading in your peeps for their peeps when you meet. Keep your own friends around so if a BLOW OFF does rear its ugly head, you don't end up completely and totally alone. Relationships don't come with contingency plans, so sometimes you have to come up with one of your own.

Monday, November 8, 2010

The Blow Off - Bye, Bye 29 - Sorry I'm a Year and a Half Late

June 17, 2009 — The day I turned 30.

October 30, 2010 — The day I finally gave up the ghost and admitted to myself I was no longer in my twenties.

It’s not that anything major happened — well, OK, that’s not quite true. An overload of whiskey, tequila and beer happened. I know, I know. Some of you are probably thinking, “what idiot mixes all that liquor?” I did — at 24. And it didn’t phase me in the slightest. Fast forward to last weekend — through the happy hour, birthday drinks, home stop over to “pre drink”, club night whirlwind that sucked me under the night of Friday, October 29 — and it becomes crystal clear why I spent the better part of the following morning curled up in the fetal position at the foot of my bed afraid I might puke up the advil I had stored in my cheek if I dare swallow.

I swallowed, and then puked... on the rug... in my roommate's bathroom. The shame!

This isn’t a typical Saturday morning for me. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a hangover like this. But clearly in trying to keep up with the “kids,” I’d failed — miserably.

I had pretended to be something I wasn’t — twenty-something, to be exact.

The signs had all been there. The keg stand before dinner (that I initiated, I might add). Then, dinner — which never actually happened. Racing to the club to make sure we could get in line before 10:30 and not have to pay cover. All things I didn’t think twice about in my post college years… but in my post-post college years, I just couldn’t pull it off.

It got me to thinking… had I really been ignoring the signs for 16 months, pretending I was still 29 and holding?

I had… and I’m sure there are many more out there like me. Oh in some ways, I’d embraced my thirties. The best years of my life, the time when everything comes into focus, I can finally start hosting those dinner parties I always talk about but never actually follow through with. Blah, blah, blah.

But I had also desperately clung to my twenties.

I thought back on some examples, and decided to vow to make some changes in print so I’d have my own words come back to haunt me if I slipped back into my oh so comfortable 20-something behavior.

1. The day I IM’d, tweeted, Facebooked and email that the lady at the sandwich shop had offered me the student discount. Twenty-somethings might be excited to save a buck or two, but being mistaken for a college student isn’t the highlight of their day. Own it next time, Ross. Own it.

2. This one is a tougher sell to gay readers, but I am saying here and now that you will no longer see me try to pass off an Abercrombie & Fitch t-shirt as suitable Friday wear. They still fit, but it makes me feel so cheap. The distressed denim is a harder vice to give up, but my best friend Charles tells me they make me look like a whore trying to pass as a frat boy type at a Kylie Minogue concert. And even I know that's sad.

3. Call me crazy, but to the five people besides me that I somehow find a way to fit in my five-seater, the jig is up. It’s not a mom thing. And the seatbelt thing is really only part of it. I just kind of don’t want to be responsible for your ass when the night is done, and I can think of many things I’d rather do than cruise around town with your knee cap in the small of my back.

4. Doritos, Fritos, Snickers bars, day old Danish and the chocolate chip cookies from down stairs are no longer acceptable snacks. Stop bringing them to my desk.

5. I’m done getting bombed on Wednesdays. When you ask how I’m doing the next morning and I say fine, I’m lying. I may be upright. Hell, I may even be productive. But the waft of gin seeping through my pores does nothing to impress HR, let alone the folks who have to ride 18 floors in the elevator with me.

6. I’m still holding on to my spiked, messy hair. I know it’s very San Diego, but frankly, it probably only has a few good years left and I’m going to milk them for all they're worth. This is my cheat. Deal.

7. I will continue to sing and dance to “Baby One More Time, “Genie in a Bottle” and “Bye, Bye, Bye” for as long as I like because they all came out when I was in my teens/twenties, but I’m leaving Selena Gomez and Bieber to the tweens.

8. Yes, you can crash at my house if you need to, and while I know I’ve never been keen on people bunking with me in my bed, I’d like to reiterate that here. At 21, you thought I was a bitch when I handed you a pillow and directed you to the couch. At 31, whether I go or you go, someone is sleeping in the living room. I don’t spoon. End of story.

9. I’m learning to love wine and brown liquor (on different nights, of course). The taste really does matter to me now. I’m not saying I’ll never drink to get drunk and have fun again, but I’m not sticking strictly to Vodka soda simply because it’s cheap, low in calories and will get you fucked up faster.

10. I'm keeping it local or keeping it sober. As we gays get older and more affluent, we tend to trade apartment life for homes, sometimes (gasp) outside Weho. And there is nothing cute about a 31-year-old getting a mug shot taken with boy band hair (it's my cheat, but I don't want it documented by LAPD).

11. In my twenties, I’d have deleted this whole column after writing it because I’d be too afraid of what my friends would think/say/comment. But at this point I’m pretty much an open book, and any one who’s been around me long enough to see me in action has photographic evidence of my recent inability to stand up and say…

I’m Ross, I’m 31, I can’t hold my liquor as well as I used to and on Friday nights, I may meet you for happy hour, I may even follow you to a bar or two... but as an early 30-something who is dating a boy a few years older, I no longer have the luxury of sleeping it off. Damn coffee runs. I like you, I really do, but the boyfriend likes you at 7. I'd prefer you at 10. We frequently settle for 8, 8:30, but even that's cutting it close. Still, I'd rather call it a night a bit early than write the sequel to this column... "Why I Got Dumped for Being a 32 Year Old Drunk."

Friday, November 5, 2010

BLOW OFF song of the day: The Promise by When In Rome




"I'm sorry, but I'm just thinking of the right words to say, I know they don't sound the way I planned them to be, but if you wait around awhile, I'll make you fall for me, I promise you, I promise you, I will."

-When In Rome, 1988

Thursday, November 4, 2010

the BLOW OFF registry

I was in a tiny town in Tuscany and saw this in a store window and had to share it with my peeps. Isn't it the perfect gift to give to someone who's been BLOWN OFF? They can cut their vegetables with it and go Fatal Attraction on someone's ass! And as I was taking this picture, it dawned on me: BLOW OFF registries actually make a lot more sense than wedding registries. (actually, I came up with that merely for the purposes of this post, but pretending like it occurred to me right in the moment made for a better segue.)

Anyway.

Think about it. Gifts cheer people up. Assuming that you love your husband or wife, your post wedding annoyingly blissful selves don't really need gifts. But if you're going through a divorce (and losing half your stuff...) some presents could really come in handy. So, I propose we start asking our friends and family to shower us with gifts (or donate to our favorite charities if you're obnoxiously selfless) when we're dealing with a break up.

If you can't fly to Tuscany to buy the above, here are five perfect BLOW OFF gifts for that friend in need:

1. Wine of the month club. Preferably wine bottles that also double as vibrators. Holy shit. That's genius. Don't even think about it, that shit is being patented as we speak.

2. A baby. Seriously, nothing gets you over a relationship faster than a defenseless little child that has no choice but to love you.

3. Sex and the City: the box set. You're sad about your break up? Don't worry! Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte, and Samantha have all been there. And you are way prettier than all of them. (Note: this one's only for dudes. Trust me guys. This show will blow your minds.)

4. Yarn and knitting needles. Because newly single girls are SO good at making scarves.

5. Gift card for a vaginal rejuvenation procedure. Forget about washing that guy right out of your hair. I say wash him out of your girl parts instead. Brand new vagina, brand new you.

You're welcome.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

the anti BLOW OFF: We heart Matt Damon

Celebrity cheating scandals are a dime a dozen. That's why we're not at all surprised by the most recent issue of Us Weekly with a "cheating" Justin Timberlake on the cover. Our faith in love would not be shaken if he and Jessica Biel called it quits...but there is one guy who could destroy all that's true and good in the world if he was exposed as an adulterous. That guy is Matt Damon.

Because Matt Damon is the perfect man. I know what you're thinking--- come on, Sara. That's ridiculous. You don't really know Matt Damon. He could be a total dick behind closed doors. Um, what are you smoking, reader? MATT DAMON IS THE PERFECT MAN. And that is a fact.

Here's why:
1. He's smart. He got into Harvard. He wrote an Academy Award winning screenplay.

2. He fell in love and married a "normal" woman who was also a single mom. And he's since had three more baby girls with her. He's a family man! Sure, he dumped a Driver for a Ryder and announced it on Oprah, but that was the 90s. He was young and newly famous then.

3. He's still hot. So, he's gotten a little bit older. He's got some gray hair and I have a sneaking suspicion the picture on the Hereafter posters was from ten years ago, but whatevs. He's 40 and he looks good!

4. He's funny. Have you heard his amazing Matthew McCounaghey impression? Have you seen him on 30 Rock? Does that little video with Sarah Silverman ring a bell?

5. Four words: Will Hunting. Jason Bourne.

6. He genuinely seems happy being a husband and father...Ben Affleck, not so much? You know he's secretly thinking of Blake Lively every time he has boring married sex with Jennifer Garner.

7. He's super charitable. I can't really remember what his causes are right now, but it doesn't matter. He has them.

8. He's from Boston. Guys from Boston are hot.

9. He's still besties with Ben Affleck. Guys that have meaningful and long lasting bromances are totes loyal!

10. He's a Democrat! and in the know when it comes to politics. Remember when he was one of the first celebrities to talk about how dumb Sarah Palin was? He said if she ever became president it would be like a bad Disney movie.

So, Matt Damon. We'd like to make a little plea. Continue to make good movies, devote your time to important charities, talk shit about Republicans, and hang out with Ben Affleck. And please, don't ever cheat on Luciana with some bimbo actress or get a divorce...because those of us at the BLOW OFF would never ever ever ever recover.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

the hope & change BLOW OFF?

Two years ago was one of the happiest and most inspiring days of my life. The months and weeks leading up to the 2008 election were tense and nerve wracking and I literally didn't know if I'd be able to survive a McCain/Palin victory (I mean, I was inconsolable when Kerry lost). That's why I traveled to Las Vegas with my cousins to go door to door and ask Nevadans to vote for Obama. Some yelled at us, some slammed the door in our faces, some cheered us on. The days leading up to the election, I devoted my time to cold calling people and asking them, no begging them, to vote. I was way too emotionally invested in this election. Eight years of Bush/Cheney had made me fragile.

Watching Obama give his victory speech that night was nothing short of amazing. Not because I was alive to see the country elect its first black president, but because it felt like all of our work wasn't in vain. It's hard to believe only two years later, we're in a position where we need to restore sanity.

A lot has happened since that night: good and bad. Contrary to popular belief, the stimulus has worked (maybe not as fast as we would have liked it to), a health care bill has passed (maybe not one that we can all get behind), an oil spill quickly became one of the largest environmental catastrophes, Sarah Palin did not hide under a rock, and a tea party no longer conjures up happy childhood memories.

I haven't lost as much faith in Barry O as I have in the other side. The filibuster has been the ultimate blow off. Conservatives don't care if the rest of us suffer as long as they can make this administration look incompetent. Those Republicans are fucking assholes. And don't even get me started with the likes of Fox News, Glenn Beck, and the effing tea party. These people are racist, homophobic, ignorant, fear mongers that are petrified by progress. It's actually kind of amusing to watch them grasp at straws like Obama's birth certificate.

I for one still have my Obama bumper sticker, even though I swear some people purposely drive like a-holes behind me on the freeway. Things aren't great, but I truly believe they'd be a million times worse with McCain and Palin in office. And even though the dems are bound to lose the House today and I wish they'd get bigger balls, I'm still a believer in all that hope and change stuff. And if Obama doesn't get re-elected and the next two years go from bad to worse, then maybe, just maybe proposition 19 will pass in Cali and we can all numb the pain by getting stoned 24/7. Either way, don't blow off the polls. Get out there and vote. If not for yourself, then for all the people in the world that don't have the same right.

Monday, November 1, 2010

Happy one year anniversary to the BLOW OFF!

Today is our one year anniversary! Who knew we'd make it this far. Thanks to everyone that reads the site, but most of all--- thanks to everyone that's contributed their blow off stories. Without your asses getting dumped and without you dumping other people's asses, we wouldn't be here today.

A couple weeks ago, we celebrated our 300th post by telling you not to think about all the people that blew you off in life. Well, today--- we want you to. Take the day to ponder those peeps that said they'd call, but never did. Those peeps that maybe cheated on you or strung you along. And think about all the people you screwed over or slept with just to prove your own self worth. Then, write those stories down and email us at theblowoffwtf@gmail.com

And here's a little blow off story I'm not proud of to get you through your work day. I was in sixth grade and I threw my first boy/girl party at my house to celebrate Valentine's Day. This was back in 1992 when troll dolls and Sir Mix-a-lot was all the rage. At the party, I found out one of the boys had branded "I heart S.S." in his ankle. In hindsight, it was a romantic if not a little twisted gesture for an eleven year old. But I liked another boy and I didn't want him to get the wrong idea. So, I made sure everyone at the party knew I thought Branded Boy was totally weird and gross. He was humiliated and he's kind of had a rough life ever since. Hopefully, the burn marks healed and my very public rejection didn't leave him scarred. The good news is...almost twenty years later, we're Facebook friends. Yay.