What a Girl Doesn't Want.

Christmas is upon us and for those of us with significant others are facing that biannual problem of what to get them. Let me just say, it is way easier for a girl to shop for their boyfriend because to be honest, we listen and plus, that's what we do all year. He's obsessed with his X-BOX---BAM! You get them the video game he won't shut up about. His favorite band is on tour. You get him tickets. For some reason, his closet is full of metallic shirts (sorry, I had to :P). You remind him he's not a Persian nightclub owner and buy him clothes. Easy, right?

Between the all football and basketball games that seem to always be on, a girl is lucky when their boyfriend even notices that she is even the same room. That being said, boys, you have no idea what to get your girlfriends and since there are few weeks until Christmas, I figured I can give you a little gift guide on what not to get them when you go shopping on Christmas Eve. I mean, Christmas is about giving and being happy. You don't want her to have that awkward look on her face and have her pretend she loves the bowling ball you got her, right, Homer?

Tool Set. It doesn't matter if they are pink. It doesn't even matter if the tools are covered in glitter. Unless she's bigger than you, wears a lot of flannel and steel boots, and rocks a mullet while she is scissoring her best friend, Bertha, this is definitely not a good idea. I'm all for girl power and fixing stuff, but you're her boyfriend. If she needs something major fixed, she will probably call you to do it. Girls, no matter how independent, will not need 8 different kinds of screw drivers for anything. Trust me.

Video Games. Though video games are definitely among the most popular gifts of the season, they are the most popular amongst boys ages 11-23. So, unless you're girlfriend is a prepubescent boy, which for your sake, I hope she is not, then you probably shouldn't get her video games. Yeah, she may like playing them. So what if she has her own video game console? Unless she specifically says, "Babe, I really want that Arkham Asylum game that all the kids are playing", don't do it. It's just not a good idea because she probably wants something a little more sentimental and from the heart.

Anything from Spencer's Gifts. Trust me on this. Your girlfriend will not appreciate the farting frog or the dog that humps your leg. I'm pretty sure she wouldn't even crack a smile if you got her a novelty shirt that said: Female Bikini Inspector. Though you may find it hilarious, she may not. In fact, I know she will not.

Clothes. You think you know what your girlfriend would look good in. You want her in something skin tight that shows off her amazing body and makes her boobs stick out, right? That's really not how this whole shopping process works. Your girlfriend looks good in the clothes she wears because she meticulously picks them out. You know how you dread going shopping with her because she spends hours and hours in one store? That's because she knows what she likes and what she would look good in. Plus, this will most likely make a turn for the worst. If you get her clothes that are too big or too small, you will be asked relentlessly if you think she is fat. Unless, you consult her gay best friend (and by consult, I mean, have him pick out the clothes), you are S.O.L.

Weighing Scale/Magnifying Mirror. By nature, all women are a little insecure. No matter how confident a girl is, she has at least one thing she doesn't like about herself. There is no better way to get her to scruntinize her every flaw by making her realize that she's got a fat ass and pores that are more vast than the Grand Canyon. Avoid these items at all costs. It will definitely send the wrong message and it will prevent World War III.

Gift Cards/Money. Though this requires little thought and could definitely get her something she wants, you don't get a girl a gift card. You're not her uncle. We all learned this from Seinfeld.

Crotch-less/Ass-less Anything. Really? I mean, really? What you guys are into behind closed doors is your business. However, if she can't tell her mother what you got her for Christmas it's probably inappropriate and definitely, more of a present for you. You don't want her parents to know you're a skeevy perv even if she is into it. On that note...

Charitable Donation in Her Name. Unless, she is a trifling good for nothing hippy, this gift is retarded. You're supposed to get her something she wants for Christmas and more often than not, this something you are supposed to get her needs to be tangible (and if you want to score bonus points, sparkly*). She doesn't give a crap about the damn polar bears or the environment. The generous amount of money that you use for this load of hippy nonsense could be used toward something useful to her like a designer purse or jewelry. Oh and do not have anything named after her: a star, a highway, any kind of animal... That's just stupid. (*Note: To be clear, when I say "sparkly", I mean jewelry. Don't go out and have a star named after your lady friend, especially if you live in a metropolitan area, who's skies are filled with that sweet sweet pollution.)

Herpes. ...Or any other STD. She probably doesn't want an STD for Christmas and if you gave it to her, I'm not a fortune teller or anything, but I'm 99.9% sure that a fight would ensue and you would definitely have some explaining to do.

If you have any more gift ideas, this should put the kibosh on that. Really though, you should definitely get her something that you think that she would want, not what you would want. Oh and most of all, do not listen to your friends' suggestions... especially if your girlfriend tells you what she wants to make your life easier, you should probably listen to her (she probably sent you pictures of exactly what she wants).

Oh, and you're welcome.

Fatty Loves Turkey.

There was that perfect turkey full of goodness perfect for the food coma that ensued. You absolutely had to have that delicious stuffing tryptophan with those delectable buttered (mmm... butter) mashed potatoes and no, you didn't skimp on that gravy. Oh, and the pies. You can't forget the pies. We have this ridiculously amazing home cooked multi-course feast to just shove in our faces.  Let's face it, the holidays are an excuse to engage in arguably the best of the seven deadly sins, gluttony. But why? I'll tell you why. I have a theory.

Inside all of us there is a little fat kid waiting to come out. We manage to ignore him for most of the year with our crazy fad diets and our wild work out routines. But for some reason, we indulge our inner chub and let him run rampant. We give him the extra brownie a la mode. We take those seconds---maybe even thirds. We put a little extra butter on the... well... if your like me, you'll take extra butter on anything. You eat til you have unbutton your pants and lay in there in food coma heaven. But I realized, that we only eat around the holidays because there really isn't anything for us to do otherwise.

When I was a kid, I thought Thanksgiving was the worst. It was just close family. There were no other kids around besides my brother, who I was already sick of by that point since he was always around. Everyone had to comment on how tall we got and didn't skimp on the cheek pinching. No one understood how epic The Mighty Morphin Power Rangers were. All anyone wanted to do was eat. It was the worst. The only prime discussion I got as a kid at Thanksgiving dinner is everyone asked me what I wanted for Christmas. This conversation was crucial... for about 5 to 9 years give or take. For in the two to three minutes that these conservations would last, I would have the faintest whisper of hope because that meant Christmas was not too far. At that time, to me, Christmas was just like my birthday, but EVERYONE got presents. (In other words, it was like my birthday, but not as special.) The older you get, the more you come to terms with Santa not being real and Christmas, therefore, being a sham of a holiday. You realize it's all for the kids.

That's when you indulge in what you got left during the holidays--the food. At first, you still don't really dig Thanksgiving, but you start to notice that hey, Christmas dinner isn't so bad. You got some succulent braised beef and some of that green bean almondine. Everyone's pulling out all the stops for ol' JC's day of birth. After awhile, you notice Thanksgiving and you end up liking that holiday more. There's more food on that day then Christmas. Christmas might as well be called Thanksgiving II because the only difference is that you sit around watching kids open presents and put in National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. Food is all you got left as an adult during the holidays.

So I guess what I am saying is, eat up. Screw the gym. Food is the real meaning of the holidays.

Teenagers Scare the Living Mess Out of Me.

Dear Youth of America,

I think I'm speaking on behalf of, oh, the world when I say, you all suck. What the hell is wrong with you? You're all a bunch of not-quite-hipster, emo kids obsessed with glittery vampires and Justin Bieber. You all have these mood swings and tempter tantrums like you're all kindergartners who have the ability to form proper sentences.  With your gender bending tight pants, your Hot Topic, and the irony of your "individuality" (since you look like every other 15-year-old wielding mommy and daddy's credit card), you think you run this joint we call the world. You looove your weirdly angled photos, which can be seen on whatever social networking site with too much eyeliner and too much hairspray in your fashion mullets.

Between the garbage on MTV telling me you're all 16 and Pregnant and that you want to be Made into God knows what, I don't understand your generation. One second, you are all having your mom drive you to the mall because you are into the Hot Topic goth scene and flocking retardly (that's right I made up a word) to see this Twilight. The next, you all love the Taylor Swift and the recycling. Then I turn my back and you're knocked up and dropping out of school. It's like all of you were raised by a hippy Elvira and Billy Ray Cyrus.

And don't you roll your eyes at me like I was never a damn teenager. Been there. Done that. I've been in your store-bought worn out Chuck T's and last I checked, I wasn't this obnoxious nor were any of my friends. It's probably because in my day, we had a little something called discipline. When we turned 16, we got jobs and learned the value of the almighty dollar and we had structure in our lives, which is lacking in today's youth. You turn 16 today, you swipe few dollar bills from granny's purse and you buy the cocaine and get huff glue. It blows my mind because my generation had to huff what was around the house. Kids today are all about that "rock and roll" and this "hip hop". I mean, this is the only thing leading to the premarital sex and vampire fascination with the hippy undertones. (I hate hippies.)

I guess what I'm trying to say is: please ask for your parents consent to get spayed or neutered right now. We don't need a more asinine generation to follow... or 27-year-old grandparents.

Warm Regards,

(idk my bff) KIM

ATTENTION RACISTS: STFU & TASTE THE RAINBOW

I'm not a very sensitive person. Sure, I feel for the victims of tragedies, but at the same time I'm not one to dwell on them especially if I have no significant ties the situation. This sounds horrible, but it is the truth. Maybe it is because I have been raised in a sheltered environment. Maybe it is because the only tragedy I have ever faced involved my attendance at a 98 Degrees concert. It is just the way I am and I'm sure that I am not the only one.

Usually, I don't make a fuss over serious topics like the economy and politics. That's just not my style, but this one just hit a little too close to home for me. Today, at the University of Illinois Champaign, a message was found in a men's bathroom stall on campus threatening to kill Asian students on Monday, November 16th at Everitt Lab. That is this Monday. Yes, this can be just some dumb kid talking out of his ass, but the fact that this individual gave a specific date and location for this shooting, this is very serious. Not only is this sick, obscene, and ridiculous, but the threat is so real to me because that is where my little brother goes to school.

I didn't care that Joe Jonas and Miley Cyrus made Asian eyes in some photo. (Whatever. Little kids do that.) Nor did I care when Abercrombie and Fitch carried those racist shirts. In fact, I thought those shirts were kind of funny. Really, I am the last person to freak out about stupid things like that. A racist joke here. A stereotype there. Sure, we are all guilty of doing this and it is all in fun. But taking it so far as to threaten the lives of innocent people, let alone a specific race, is disgusting and uncalled for. For Christ's sake, it is the year 2009 and the fact that people out there that are still this ignorant is just appalling to me.

Even if this threat was a joke, it was not funny at all. This person seriously has a demented perception on life and deserves whatever is coming to them. Just the thought of killing innocent people and announcing it to the school like it is some sort of frat party is perverse in itself. It is just sick.

Anyone with information about the threats is asked to contact UIPD at 217.333.1216. If you would like to anonymously share anything that you know, please contact Champaign County Crimestoppers.

Kids at U of I: be careful and be safe.

I Wanna Drink 'Til I Can't Feelings No Mo.

Binge drinking--what a joy it brings to the youth of the world. It makes the meek strong and the strong invincible. Your perception of the world is clearer after you drink a beer or two. Everyone is a little more friendly and not to mention, a little better looking. A sensation known as the "warm fuzzies" consumes you. The more you drink, the warmer and fuzzier this feeling gets. Scientists believe that when these warm fuzzies are at there peak, you achieve confidence. With this new found confidence, you find the self you want to be--your inner Tyler Durden per say. This leads to dancing, awkward sexual advances, new friends, and an overall good time.

When you're young and a child of the night, there is nothing that can go wrong. Sure you don't remember everything, but you don't need to. It is all in good fun and the next day, you can do it all over again. No hang over. No aches or pains. No post-drinking regrets. Maybe you will swing by McDonald's and grab an Egg McMuffin if you wake up still slightly intoxicated. All things considered, when you are young, you're a fully functioning part of society after a long night of binge drinking.

This all sounds familiar right? Most of us partied with the best of them and then you get old. Those nights of reckless endangerment to our livers have gotten the best of us. I mean, yeah, you still get the warm and fuzzies, but you definitely pay for it afterward. After a long night, let alone a full weekend of drinking, you're grouchy and achy and looking for the antacid. The sun becomes the Devil in the morning and burns through your comforter and pierces your retina forcing you to wake up and feel the shame of old age. Every part of you is sore and you look like you death, but still better than Kristen Stewart because she's just haggard.

Oh, and remember how awful it was the first few times when you got drunk because you didn't know better so you always drank too much, and vomited everything that you ate that day, but then it stops because you realize how much you can drink without getting sick? Yeah, after a while, you start to drink less and less because you have more responsibilities for being an adult. Apparently, being a grown up means you can't always have fun when you want to. (The word, adult, is acutually Finnish for boring responsible person who goes to bed early, I think, but don't quote me on that.) Anyways, you forget that you can only imbibe so much alcohol and you go overboard. Thus, your body regresses to the stages of your freshman year of college but to the infinity power, which basically means instead of throwing up what you had that day for a couple hours, you turn into The Exorcist and upchuck everything you had in the past month. Not cute.

I guess, there is a set period of time in your life where your able to party hardy every night of the week and then function normally the next morning, but there is no warning to when that time ends. So, I'm telling you as my peers, colleagues, and friends, heed my warning. Alcoholic beverages are all fun and games for the evening, but apparently, you feel like death the next day.

Well done, Alcohol. You may have won this battle, but consider this war. I've only learned my lesson... this time. (Insert shifty eyes here.)

(Note: If you would like to imagine what I sound like after this weekends festivities, please re-read the blog as Peter Brady going through puberty.)

I'll Bet Living in a Nudist Colony Takes All the Fun Out of Halloween

At age 9, I found out Santa Claus wasn't real. I found red lipstick on the glass of milk I had left out for him that Christmas Eve to wash down the chocolate chip cookies I had left for him. The innocence of my childhood was shattered at that very moment. From that point on, I knew it was just my mother and father behind every major figure of my childhood and I made sure that they knew about it.

When Christmas rolled around again, instead of writing a letter to Santa, I addressed my mother and referred to my father as the reindeer. Every time I lost a tooth, I asked her for the money instead of putting it underneath my pillow for the Tooth Fairy. Come Easter, I was picking out every item that was to go in my basket because I knew that the whole Easter Bunny thing was garbage. As I grew older, my parents grew tired of my smart aleck nonsense. Needless to say, I became less and less enthused about the holidays. Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving, even weddings, graduations, and birthdays were definitely not my cup of tea. Though there is one holiday in particular that grew on me as I became older, and that, my friends, is Halloween.

I wasn't into dressing up for Halloween in my teen years, but as soon as I turned 21, I discovered the liberty that alcohol brought when you are in a costume. I've dressed up as everything from Laura Croft to a sexy Leonidas (sans the beard, of course) and Batman (not Batgirl because she is lame). To this day, I don't fully remember exactly what happened on a Halloween weekend. However, there was a lot of photographic evidence that proves that I had a lot of fun. It is the one weekend of the year that you can let go of your inhibitions and be anyone that you want to be. Best of all, no one can take that away from you.

No one has any responsibilities on Halloween. There are no family obligations tied to this wonderful holiday. There is no Halloween dinner to be at at on time and there are no presents to be exchanged. You will never come home to find out Halloween is not real. Your parents can never suck the joy out because you will be with your friends balls deep in jello shots. No one will never be too old to celebrate this fine holiday. Anything goes on Halloween.

Think about it, instead of candy, you get booze. Instead of handing out candy, you get drunk. No one is ever too old to wear a costume. If you don't want to wear pants that day, you don't have to. Want to make out with a penguin? Do it because you know someone will be wearing a penguin suit. No one will judge you. In fact, every one is friends on Halloween. It's the law. And did I mention you can drink... a lot... in a costume? For some reason, beyond me, getting belligerent in a costume, is always better than getting drunk in civilian clothing. I think it's science.

Remeber, if you are coherent, you're not celebrating the spirit of Ol' Hallow's Eve hard enough. So, get drunk and be merry. Get crazy and have fun. I better see some vomit on the sidewalks (that isn't my own). :)

Happy Halloween, kids.

Kim Zolciak: Role Model to Women Everywhere

Dear Kim Zolciak,

Why you have not received the Mother of the Year award is beyond me. From nurse and stripper waitress to up-and-coming country pop diva, you are basically the next Taylor Swift--if Taylor Swift were a 42-year-old chain-smoking homewrecker. When you are not at home smoking at the dinner table and making your kids sleep in your bed (even though they are between the ages of nine and thirteen), you are firing the help for running to the store to buy tampons and spending over $3400 in kid clothes at some jank version of the Kardashian's store, Smooch and the rip off of Limited Too, Justice. You've gotta spend it like you got it, right?

As a mother, you teach your daughters the importance of being "damn good looking". You have it all: huge fake ta-ta's, a sweet porn star weave wig (which you allegedly spend $1100 a day on), and you are never tardy for the party. Not to mention, a married man who pays for every little thing you want and that you think you are engaged to. I know that most people frown upon you being an adultress and all, but I think that they are just jealous. You have morals too. When you and Big Poppa aren't on a break, your skirts cover your ass more and your boobs aren't hanging out as much. You truly are a class act. I mean, if I were one of your daughters, I would want to be just like you too.

Now, this may just be the excessive botox and restilin working their magic, but you always have your game face on (and a glazed over look in your eyes). You never let anyone keep you down. When you thought Nene and Sheree were going to beat the mess out of you, you brought your helmet to the five star restaurant you were at. No big deal. Miss Zolciak, you are crafty... like a fox. You are also an entreprenuer. Sure, you're making that little man in tight pants and heels make all your weaves, but hey, that's just all the hard labor. You work it for the money to make your dreams come true. And yeah, Kandi and her producers had to totally rework your vocals to sound like that you were remotely in tune, but whatever, "Tardy for the Party" is kicking ass on the charts. Get it, girl.

Personally, I think that you are a great hero for women everywhere. As a reality television icon, you are a reflection of a real woman--a single mom trying to make a living and provide for her family. Yes, you get by on your boobs and slutty-ness, but that only makes you the anti-thesis of the whole women's suffrage movement fiasco. I mean, if you can suck it in and stick 'em out, more power to you, heffer.


Sincerely,

-(idk my bff) Kim

Temporary Insanity, Curable By Marriage?

Remember when cooties were arguably the most devastating and traumatic epidemic plaguing our generation? We had to get an imaginary shot at least once a day so that we remained immune to the cooties. Girls would avoid boys like the plague and vice-versa because god forbid any sort of physical contact. Hell, some of us would even go so far as to not even touch books or pencils that the opposite sex came into contact with. The lot of us survived fourth and fifth grade because of vast precautions we took. This was just the way the world worked then.

Sixth grade happens and any talk about cooties was so passe. And yes, I was the a-hole who still brought up cooties the first day of junior high and felt like a complete tool because it turned out it was cool to like boys by then. Whatever. If cooties was still a predominant thing in schools, kids wouldn't be on Maury getting paternity tests. Babies wouldn't be having babies.

All my life, I've been a little below the curve when it came to boy/girl relations. Don't get me wrong, I had crushes growing up; I was just too scared to do anything about it and too concerned about cooties... until I was about 14. (Also, it was partially because I was a late bloomer. So what? You want to fight about it?) I was the last of my friends to get my first real kiss because French kissing freaked me out. And to be honest, I'm still definitely one of the most prude when it comes to talking about the hibbidy dibbidy. (Yes, I just said hibbidy dibbidy because I'm that immature.) But let's be real for a second, is it just me or did everyone just wake up and decide to get married?

There is nothing wrong with getting married. I couldn't be more happy for anyone who is betrothed (i.e. JD), but you go on the Facebook and every other status update is about someone getting married. Someone from your graduating class adds you as a friend, but you don't recognize the name, why? Oh, it's because they're married. Your friends are going from being "In a Relationship" to "Engaged". What's this? Mary McPlainface just added new photos... of her huge ass engagement ring that is comparable in size to the former planet, Pluto! What the fudge is going on here?

A few of the girls and I just went to a wedding expo... mainly for the free booze since none of us had any intention of getting married any time soon. Walking down the street, you would never look twice at these girls, but man, the rings on their fingers were absolutely ridiculous. Makes you wonder what your not doing right, don't it? Now, I don't roll with plain girls. We're all pretty secure with ourselves and boys dig us, but none of us had that bling. I think we were secretly an itty, bitty, teeny, tiny bit depressed (especially after seeing the woofers there). But thanks to Socratic reasoning and Beyonce, I'm starting to wonder, does no one like it? Because if they did, they would've put on ring on it, right? Uh uh oh. To add insult to injury, we all came to drink and be merry, but we walked out with ring bearer pillows! (And a crazy craving for raspberry cream truffles.)

Am I missing something? Is there something in the water that I'm immune to? I mean, seriously, WTF? And did you notice all the wedding themed quizzes and advertisements on the FB that we're bombarded with? I did. (So what if I checked to see what age I'd get married or what kind of dress I'd have? I was curious. Sue me. This just in-I'm a girl and I have those inclinations. But I definitely don't think I'd act on them... just yet.) You'd think that with the success rates of marriage being 50-50, less people would be inclined to get married, but no. Looks like people get really into this little thing we call love. Yuck.

Soon enough, we'll start to notice that less and less people will want to come out to the bars on the weekend and party because they have brunch with the in-laws in the morning. They will start hanging out with other married people and talk about long term goals and college funds because they want to bust out a couple of babies. Then the lot of them will move to the suburbs, which I don't get because if I had kids, I'd want snotty little city kids like in Gossip Girl. Before you know it, we'll be getting cards with their kids on it wishing us a happy holiday. All of a sudden, tripping on acid and going to raves becomes less appealing to them because they have responsibilities. Lameskis.

I guess we all get to that age where we decide to grow up, but come on... who knew it would be so soon? I feel like cooties were our biggest issue just yesterday and now, it's what place setting goes with this flower arrangement. Woof.

If It's Tourist Season, Why Can't We Kill Them?

I don't know about you, but I hate walking around Michigan Avenue (or anywhere with shops, statues, pigeons, restaurants, bars, etc.) and not being able to walk at a normal pace to wherever I need to go because some honky tonk from Wisconsin gets distracted by the way Water Tower place catches the light. If you are going to take pictures of trolleys and fountains because they don't exist in your hometown because your town is not civilized, at the very least do so on the side of the street and not in the midst of traffic. That is just rude and ignorant. As a resident of this fair city, I am not above walking through your photo, pushing and/or shoving to get through and I do not care if you happen to be in my line of fire. There are buses and trains that I need to catch. It is not my fault you're a retard that stops in the midst of crowd of busy people rushing to get somewhere.

In short, what I'm trying to say is: tourists suck. They are hillbillies who are amazed by us city folk for some crazy backwards reason. I mean, I'm happy that for the first time in your miserable life you've finally reached your dreams and walked through a revolving door, but get the f out of my way. The normal weekend influx of tourists gives me enough anxiety as it is and now, they want the 2016 Olympics here? You have got to be joking! Not to sound like a selfish brat or anything, but I'm really thinking about how this will inconvenience everyone as a whole. After all, it takes a village...

Sure, this tourism thing is good for Chicago, but think of this city's people. It's already moderately congested here, but that's bearable. It's tough to get on the Red Line going north when there is a Cubs game, think of what a pain in the ass it will be to go anywhere when there are Olympic Games! Northbound. Southbound. We're all screwed. And you know how annoying is it now when people ask you for directions on the bus or train? Yeah. It is only going to get ten billion times worse when are more tourists running a muck around town with their don't-cha-know's and we're-not-from-around-here demeanors.

Also, with the crazy influx of people, there will only be more homeless people and they will only be crazier and more dangerous. This would only threaten our lives more since we live here and have to deal with them. I mean, it's bad enough that sometimes we find homeless people sneaking into our bathroom at work (and yes, it's true!!!), but these tourists are going to give them more money because more likely than not, they have never seen a homeless before since they usually populate metropolitan areas.

The tourists aren't just going to be at the Olympics either. You know they are going to want to see the museums and see what it's like to shop at a store that isn't Wal-Mart. The lines are going to be so much longer. We'll never get to do anything we normally do because it will take too long and we will be forced to do all of our shopping online since we don't want to deal with all the craziness the tourists cause. We'll be traumatized when our orders are wrong and we don't get our meds from the doctors in time. I can see nothing but bad things to come.

The tourists are really the main reason I don't want the Olympics here. They're pretty much just going to ruin everyone's lives. As far as I am concerned with Chicago being the 2016 Olympics, I say no thank you, World. Though I do appreciate the consideration, I don't want to deal with the tourists.

Open Advice to Anyone With a Y Chromosome

Look, I get both ends of the spectrum. According to my Facebook Friend Stats (aka science), 58% of my friends are guys and 42% of my friends are girls. I walk the fine line between boys and girls. Girls think boys are just as confusing as you think we are. Sure, we overanalyze text messages and judge you on how you decide to behave in random situations (i.e. where you urinate because it is not always in a urinal or toilet, when you're drunk with your friends, how you behave around slutty girls, etc.), but that is only because our brains are wired a little differently and we are a little bit smarter than you. I'm going to do you a favor and try to simplify things for you, k? Sit down. Relax. Take some notes. Your BFF, Kim, is going to blow your mind and take you through a refresher course on how to behave around girls.

Here's a little fact you should probably know: SHE ALWAYS HAS THE POWER.

Full discretion, this is never really discussed, but let's be real, in every relationship, there is some sort of power struggle. Someone always has the upper hand. More likely than not, it is the female counterpart of the relationship that has the power. Boys, if you think you have the power, your girlfriend is very sweet and polite, because you don't. If your girlfriend always tells you that you are equals, that's crap. They just want you to feel secure with your masculinity. We own you because we control the slices of apple pie, if you catch my drift. You may not like the way we may handle it all the time, but we control what is going on.

Think about any situation you have been in with a woman--it's either amazing or it's awkward. She's either God's personal gift to you or the spawn of Satan. Please note, that we are talking about just one woman. Females are designed to be the whole package: smart, beautiful, funny, whatever you want, but keep in mind, if you haven't seen it first-hand, there is a she-devil in there. Legend has it, when this inner she-devil is unleashed, hell breaks loose on that who provokes her.

When you make your lady happy, doesn't it make your day? If she is crying, especially if you are the cause, doesn't it break your heart? Doesn't it kill you when you guys fight? Why can we talk to you like babies to you and get away with it? Think about it. You thought about it. And you realize, I am right. Yes? Yes! Being a girl, I know that because right now, I am controlling you, duh!

If a girl doesn't like what is happening, it gets awkward for her (and anyone within a 3 mile radius of her) real quick. This crazy flame-thing turns on in her eyes and she looks semi-possessed by the devil and she all of a sudden has a green-ish tint. Whatever happened, it was probably your fault. Think about it. Back track and go over everything you did and said, because it was probably mildly offensive and got the gears a-turning in her head, automatically making you the enemy. You can either comfort her and/or put a shiny object in her face. (If you liked it then you should've put on a ring on it.) Just make it better.

Girls find strength in numbers... kind of.

When a guy does something remotely sweet (because really, guys, we don't ask for much) girls are glowing. Other girls want that glow, so they tell other girls and other girls tell their boyfriends. The other girls' boyfriends either try to out do you or fail trying. Your girl learns of all of this and feels amazing and lucky and all is right with the world. Girls are pretty catty and when they have a one-up on another girl, particularly, one they don't like, they are on Cloud Nine and you reap the benefits. The more girls that want to be in her situation, the initial glow that she had from you becomes more prominent and something called love happens.

I don't know why this is. It just is the way it is. A mathematician once did an algorithm to prove this theory, so it's a fact. Back off. Basically, as some sort of significant other, it is highly suggested to that you do little nice things to make your girlfriend happy. It doesn't matter if it's buying her roses or washing the dishes (especially when she knows you hate doing them), just do something to make her day. It will go a long way in the end. Not only will it peak interest, but it will get around and everyone will live harmoniously.

Girls are not, I repeat, are NOT to be addressed as Dude, Man, Buddy, or Pal.

I am all for gender equality. Girls can do what boys can do and hell, boys can do what girls do if they want to. Whatever. It's great that your lady friend can hang with your guy friends, but do not convince her to be one of your guy friends. She is, if not, will soon be, your girlfriend. Treat her like it. Do not act like she doesn't exist. Do not make her feel uncomfortable just so that your friends are uncomfortable. I promise, you will not hear the end of it. This is one the things that will cause the awkward situation I discussed a little bit ago. If you intend to sleep with a girl or keep sleeping with a girl, do not address her as any of the aforementioned forms of address unless you do not want to be anything but her buddy (ugh... I hate that word).

Get it? Got it? Good!

All tests are pass or fail and there is no ridiculous curve in your favor.

It does not matter if you're trying to get a girlfriend, married, dating, whatever-- no matter how stable or unstable you feel your relationship is, there will be tests. The more tests you pass, the stronger your relationship will be. You all know that, I'm sure. Some of the big tests include: The Friend Test, The Ex-Factor, The Number Talk, Meeting the Parents, The Pregnancy Scare, etc. These tests are very important to a relationship and your behavior/reaction can impact your relationship tremendously. This is all common knowledge, yes? Okay. Here's the kicker: sometimes women want to keep you on your toes and like to even throw out something called The Pop Quiz, which is just a random question that only has one specific correct answer.

Most of the PQ questions that we have been known to throw revolve around vanity--how we look, how you perceive us, how we fare compared to other women, etc. These answers must play in our favor and when they do not you will fail miserably and never hear the end of it 60% of the time every time. It doesn't matter if she her ass looks huge in that dress or if you think about other girls inappropriately (for lack of a better way of saying it). You always tell her she is the most beautiful girl you have ever seen and you only want her and you mean it because deep down, you know you do. Honestly, no girl, no matter how confident and secure they are with themselves, wants to hear about how you fantasize about some skank when you are alone at night. That is just wrong. If you have the urge to say something that will potentially hurt her feelings, fight it, hold it in and say something positive about her.

Overview

• She controls everything because she has the power.
• If you make her mad, she will go ape shit or not speak to you ever again.
• If you do good, other girls will take note, and she will reward you.
• Do not call her dude, man, or you will not even get close to second, buddy. (CRINGE!)
• A girl that can hang out with the guys, does not make her your guy friend.
• When given a pop quiz, think about your answer carefully and ask yourself, Will she give me shit and/or rip me a new one? If the answer is YES, you probably shouldn't say that and you should say that you've only got eyes for her.

Just a few other things, and I swear you can go practice my preaching. Girls like attention, but not too much or too little. If you fail to sure her attention, she will go seek it out from somewhere else. If you are giving her too much attention, she will feel smothered and again, she will seek out the right amount of attention from someone else who is less stalker-like and creepy. The same goes with communication--too much will smother her, and too little will push her away. Talk to her when she wants to talk, no matter how uncomfortable you are talking about feelings. It is probably something important to her. Please note that if a girl is constantly putting forth the effort in the relationship, with no reciprocation, that will also push her away.

Oh and something that never ever fails is thinking before you say or do something. This is probably the best piece of advice, I can give you because being thoughtful with your words and actions will go a long way. I promise you. So, please, please, please, solemnly swear you will think before you say and/or do something you regret? Promise with a cherry on top right top right now, k? Thanks!

Are we all on the same page now? Please let me know if you have any questions or if you are confused about anything. My door is always open. Hopefully, this will help decrease the number of d-bag things that guys do.

Your welcome.

Television: Teacher, Mother, Secret Lover.

For many, autumn brings new beginnings. I mean, sure, it's a little colder and the year is coming to an end, but come on, the Fall is about new starts. The kiddies are headed back to school. Those crazy undergrads are shacking up in the dorms and getting lost in the city. Some freshmen are even taking their first underage sips of beer as we speak. After all, it is the beginning of football season. And although we say bid a sweet adieu to the foliage and the days become shorter, we welcome the brand spanking new seasons of our favorite shows.

Let's go through my personal MUST SEE TV list for the week, shall we?

To get through the doldrums that we call Monday, I like to start off with a little bit of Heroes (8 EST/7 CST), which just had its two-hour premiere today. No spoilers please. I only watched half of it since I had to catch my Upper East Siders on Gossip Girl (9 EST/8 CST). I mean, WWBWD (What Would Blair Waldorf Do)? I couldn't miss their first day of college! Come on! Then I like to top off my night at 9 PM, with a little Rachel Zoe Project (which I'm currently watching right now and decided that I need a huge furry vest. I wonder if I would be able to rock it at work... Andrea?).

Tuesdays are dead to me. Nothing is on. So they can be your free day. Personally, Tuesdays are my gym day and more times than not, my weeknight bar night. Or if I'm feeling crazy, I catch up on my Netflix. Nothing is worth it on Tuesdays unless of course, they decide to have Nip/Tuck's final season then, but we don't have to worry about that until January this just in, the show starts October 14th, which makes it only add to the Wednesday goodness. And sorry guys, 90210 is crap and nothing like the original. I don't know about you, but I like my high school kids played by people well in their 30's. (Luke Perry forever!)
As for Hump Day, I really don't care for anything until 8 PM CST because let's be real all that matters on Wednesday night is Glee. It's is basically the funniest show on TV. And even though I'm hopelessly devoted to Eric Northman, but I have to say, I'm hot for teacher, Will Schuester. He's pretty sexy in the Acafellas episode. Everyone on the show is ridiculously talented, but when you hear Mr. Schuester sing to you, you automatically revert into a twelve-year-old girl at an NSYNC concert again. That's how good he is. (Update: Fox just picked up Glee for a full season. Told you it was that good.)

And what's not on Thursdays? In the prime time slot, it's a total NBC take over. Parks and Recreation at 7:30 PM, followed by The Office and the new show starring Joel McHale, Community. Loves it. But the fun doesn't stop there. You go ahead and put on FX for your double dose of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. I mean, if you're not familiar, it is also known as the best comedy show of all time. There's something about four a-holes that own a bar with Danny DeVito that just equals hilarity. Since that is on at 9 PM CST, it is absolutely necessary to keep the crass going and take a hot second and tune into the encore of The Real Housewives of Atlanta, everyone's guilty pleasure. I don't know about you, but I want to Nene Leakes when I grow up.

Just because the combo of It's Always Sunny and The Real Housewives is just too magnificent, I need to take Friday and Saturday off. After all, I am in my twenties and do like to catch some sort of roof on fire and not allow water to dowse its flame so it burns or whatever the kids say nowadays. But after a long weekend of partying, I like to have a very lazy Sunday with my VH1 reality shows (Tool Academy 2, My Antonio, Real Chance of Love re-runs) in the morning since I know that more likely than not, my television will be dominated by something called football (not that I'm complaining or anything). At night, it's all about HBO's fine evening programming. Maybe I'll catch a little Curb Your Enthusiasm since True Blood is done for the year. And I've been meaning to catch Bored to Death with Jason Schwartzman. It looks interesting, but I could totally be wrong. (Thoughts anyone?)

Elizabeth Lawrence once said that in Autumn "[E]veryone must take time to sit and watch the leaves turn." Little did she know, that we have to take the time to sit and watch tv since we were blessed with an amazing Fall line-up. God bless the boob tube.
And th-th-that's all folks. (Sorry I had to.)

This Is For The Gays: Oh Lady Gaga.

Lady Gaga totally stole last night's VMAs with all of her flamboyant get-up. I don't even have any words to describe her. AJ, my gay lifemate and confidante, and I basically decided that she is the Madonna of our generation. We love her and can't get enough... mini-peen or not. :)

(photos link to their source)

You Know You Love Her. XOXO.

What's the difference between gossip and scandal? So glad you asked... Anyone can commit a minor indiscretion and generate a day's worth of buzz. But in order to birth a true scandal, it requires the right person to be in the wrong place. Take one It Girl on a pedestal. Add a crowd eager to see her fall. And give them a means to knock her down.

She said this. No, she said this. Well, I heard this. Blah. Blah. Blah. There comes a point in every young ladies life where they are reduced to talking about other people behind their back. We call know it's wrong, but its just so damn fun. We thought it would end in high school, but beware, Upper Eastsiders, we are all a victim of gossip at every point in our lives. Come tomorrow, September 14th, our one and only source into scandalous lives is back. Where would we be today without Gossip Girl? (ANSWER: Lost without a void that would never ever properly be filled.)

Let's face it--GIRLS SUCK. Sorry to say it, but it's true. On behalf of my kind, I sincerely apologize. We're mean, catty, sassy, bitchy, back stabbing, manipulative and talk about you behind your back. Every girl has a little bit of Blair Waldorf or Serena van der Woodsen in her. If they don't, then they suck... at life... because they are boring... and no one likes them. Whatever. (Case in point, right?) Between the two, you have B telling us how to look and act (i.e. Louis V peep toes---always right.) and there is S showing us how badly we want to be in the spotlight with her photos always on Page 6. Despite the Queen Bee status of my personal hero, Blair, and the "It"Girl je ne sais quoi possessed by Serena, there is no one more intriguing than G.G. herself.

As girls especially, we LOVE a good gossip fest. That's why we're so into the celeb tabloids and being mean to other girls. (Don't lie. I know you're guilty of it too.) I mean, let's be real, it's totally fun to gossip and talk about people behind their backs with your girlfriends, but taking the information that you have and sending e-blasts to everyone's phone? That's just taking it to another level of awesome. She has the power and I dig the power. People fear her. And there's nothing more powerful than fear. (Insert evil laugh here.)

I've took the liberty of contriving a list of reasons of why we know we love her.

1. Gossip Girl is a mystery and everyone loves a good mystery. No one knows and when you try to find her, she will just make you look like an ass (i.e. the season finale of season 2). She is like an anonymous Gretchen Weiners because she knows anything and everything about everyone. I don't know for sure, but I bet she has big hair and that is the reason why her hair is so big.
2. Remember when they all the grown ups told us that we would stop caring about what we look like and what/who we do on Friday nights? Yeah? Gossip Girl basically proves them wrong. Everyone cares. If you look like crap and/or gained 10 lbs, you're going to be put on blast. When you go home with that gross excuse for a human being that you're to regret in the morning, everyone will make fun of you. But on the other hand, if you look hot and bag Chuck Bass, more power to you. However, no matter how hot they are, do not pay for someone's company on a lonely night (cough NATE ARCHIBALD cough cough). Always look print ready. At the very least, shower... unlike some people. And don't be a slut. The best hookups are free of morning breath and awkward conversation.
   
3. G.G. has minions. What I wouldn't do for minions to do my bidding!? She can make you do whatever she wants since she owns you pretty much. She doesn't even have to go out looking for scandal since people are constantly emailing her and telling her what's up.
4. It's far safer to be feared than loved... and even though we love her, we sure as hell don't want to be on her bad side. Even though we cannot see her, she can crush us because her influence is just that great. (See reason #3.)
   
5. Who doesn't love that Gossip Girl ruins people's lives? Since, I'm mildly evil and want to ruin people's lives, I think that's so cool. She can make everyone love or hate you depending on how she wants to spin it. That's pretty damn sweet. Her e-blasts are just press releases about people's lives and I totally dig that.
6. Every single blast she sends is some sort of witty riddle. She says things like, "Cheer up Little J, the sun will come out tomorrow... even though your boyfriend did today." AND, "Sorry Lonely Boy. Don't say we didn't try to warn you. But if Queen S would do this to D, are any of us safe? Bow down or bow out." You're always making us think, G.G, and laugh at the expense of other people.
7. Her arrogance makes you feel like you feel kind of stupid when you don't get Gossip Girl's witty pop culture references, but when you do you kind of feel good about yourself like a dog who did a trick correctly. She give you a little bit of information at a time and you always want more. She's basically a crack dealer.
   
8. She may be all knowing and a major bitch, but Gossip Girl is kind of a nerd. With all these blasts to your phone. She is a pioneer when it comes to combining blogging with text and picture messages into an HTML format that goes straight to your phone in a non-email way. F! I don't even know how to do that now and pretty sure only the tech savvy nerds of nerds knew how to do that in 2007. I for one applaud her on behalf of the nerds.
   
9. Morgan Freeman, James Earl Jones, Patrick Stewart, Gossip Girl? Hell yes!! Everybody loves a good narration and G.G. is the voice of our generation.
10. If Gossip Girl were real, she would probably be president. :) No explanation needed.

Ahh yes. Power, influence, wit, unnecessary bitchiness... Gossip Girl is everything that I want to be when I grow up.

A Day Without a Cell Phone

On September 11 there were be cell phone service in Illinois... and by Illinois, I mean Chicago... and Chicago, I mean for just me. This is based on a very true hypothetical situation. On the aforementioned day, Illinois woke up and not a single properly working cell phone was left in the state. They have all disappeared; chaos, tragedy, and social alienation ensue.

A thick fog surrounded the state of Illinois blocked off any cell phone carrier's satellites. Any and all communication has been cut off and all of the cell phones are not properly working: broken touch screens, out of service text messages, no outgoing or incoming calls, and constant roaming! What is a state to do without access to Google Maps?!  Cars are abandoned on the street. Food is left cooking on the stove. Planes fall out of the air. Businesses are closed down. People don't know where to meet for happy hour. The world has ended.

We meet the wife of a musician who cannot reach her husband after a gig; a state Senator who cannot call his maid when she doesn't show up for work, and a teenage girl who cannot even text, idk bff her bff, Jill Kim. A scientists asks any cell phone provider to volunteer for genetic experiments: a Sprint technician and a Verizon salesman. Why them? And where has all the cell phone service gone? Even the old people are grieving. The state and its economy grind to a halt.

Quit your job. Start a fight. Prove you're alive.

My mom, Cheyenne, says that I have too much pent up frustration and that I should channel all my anger into something positive. I really don't think that I get angry that often. So what if I get a little cranky when there's traffic in the morning because of stupid tourists wandering around or because of Oprah deciding to close off 1/3 of The Loop to tape the premiere of her show. And just because I made one person cry with a few low blows about their family being inbred or how their friend looks like Princess Fiona because they didn't like my shirt, it doesn't mean I am overly defensive. Last I checked, not getting your way is something to get upset about. It's not just "a little spilled milk" when that happens to me. And I hardly ever get aggressive. Who hasn't been known to throw an elbow into a face or two? He who hasn't thrown a squirrel across an open field in their hey day cast the first stone, k? Exactly. Don't go around judging me. I've never lost my temper... per se, but long story short, when mom said I needed a hobby to harness all of my negative chi, I realized my true calling: FIGHTING.

Ever since I could recall, I've wanted to start some sort of "fight club", if you will, where you can just gather a big group of average Joes and beat the crap out of each other. We would use this fighting as some sort of therapy or as some sort of escape from our mundane lives. I don't know how this would crossover in middle America especially with today's economy, but it would be fun to gather in some sort of bar basement and fight. I guess I would just have to find a group of people who didn't ever speak about this aforementioned fight club I am proposing. (Insert shifty eyes here.)

Now that I have insurance, I wouldn't mind punching someone in the ear just because I could since I can afford to pay for the repercussions of my actions and since I'm half ninja and all (little known fact about me... write that down). Personally, I think unnecessary violence as seen in such films as Rambo and Gamer, is funny but some people frown upon it. To think about it, I don't know too many people who would, so I guess I would have to find other people that wouldn't mind getting punched in the ear by me. The more I think about it, the more realistic alternative to this would be to just take boxing lessons and take them I shall.

From boxing lessons, I plan to start kickboxing, and from kickboxing, I will probably get into Muy Thai and eventually become a regular on the amateur fight circuit. Everyone in the underground fighting ring of Chicago will know the new "Thrilla in Manila" (sorry Paquio) and the name Kimmie Kerosine---one punch to the face will leave you looking like a burn victim or something equally catchy. Some kid will make up the catch phrase later. But anyways, from there, I will take over and become Queen of the Fight (Get it? It's a play on words refrencing the popular Whitney Houston song, "Queen of the Night").

Then on one gloriously cold day in the midst of December, Dana White, will discover me and ask me to join the UFC because I would have already beat up every single woman MMA fighter as far as the eye can see. I'd beat everyone up with one swift round house kick, a quick one-two punch, and a quick elbow to the face. With those three moves, I would earn every belt from every weight class. That's right, every weight class. The only way, I could be better is if I beat the crap out of myself, but that is just way too existentialistic (yes, that is a real word). I'd be so good that they would have to make a NEW new American Gladiators just so that I can tear up prime time television just as much as pay-per-view. By the time I surpass my prime, which is probably going to be when I'm 27-years-old, I think that I will have to retire on top and join the cast of Dancing with the Stars. I can only be 99.9% sure that I would champion that show too.

God, I'm awesome.

The point is, I'm not an angry person and I don't have anger issues. I just like to fight and/or cause fires.

"I WILL EAT YOUR BABIES, BITCH."

We Adopted... And No, It's Not Asian.

From the very first time that I saw his chubby little face, I knew that I had to have him. He just wiggled his little butt instead of actually swimming because he was just too pudgy. I needed him to come home with me. Finally, after weeks of planning and hours of labor, on September 7th, we were proud to welcome Guppie along with his two brothers, Ninja and Suckie into our hearts and home.

They're basically the most adorable little fishies ever and never stop eating. I can watch them swim around all day.

...And you know that their little fish tank is going to be Gotham City themed. Here's a little sneak peak of their underwater Gotham.

Take a Shower, Kristen Stewart.

Dear Kristen Stewart,

From what I hear, apparently, you poop roses. Good for you. I know everyone thinks you're real cool, but I don't get it. I mean enjoy looking pissed off and annoyed as much the next person, but everyone knows there is a time and a place for that (i.e. the bar, the street, McDonald's, when homeless people ask for change, Chuck E. Cheese, etcetera). You, KStew, take it to a whole new level. You walk around like you live such a hard movie star life. You just want everyone to feel bad for you and say, "There goes that poor Kristen Stewart. You know, she's starring in this big epic tween movie extravaganza, but, man, she can't even afford to take a shower. I bet her life is real hard." I mean, you look like you hate everything about what you do and that you're pissed off. Oh, this just in: YOU HAVE NOTHING TO BE PISSED OFF ABOUT.

I saw this Twilight movie just like everyone else. It was OK. For the record, it was definitely not as awesome as True Blood. The only thing I didn't get about the movie was why this shiny, glimmery vampire was into you. I mean, you're not ugly, but you're also not anything particularly special. Would it hurt to slap on some mascara and a little rouge? Why don't you comb the hair a little and maybe smile every once in a while. Not to push it or anything, but you could probably use a shower or even wash your clothes. You kind of look like you smell. Little self-improvements are better than nothing. We gotta work with what you got. Let's face it, you're no Sookie Stackhouse and your stupid vampire doesn't even speak Swedish or whatever like one Eric Northman.

How you get guys like, Robert Pattinson, Michael Angarano, and Steven Strait, is beyond me. They... well, for the most part, look pretty put together. Robert looks like a dirty vampire even when he isn't filming for the movie and it kind of freaks me out. From what I hear on the grape vine, you're rude and nasty in person and I can't say I'm not surprised. If I looked like I was homeless, I'd be rude and nasty too.  Are guys into that? Or is it just broody actor-types? I don't know. I always thought it was only okay to be rude and nasty if you were cute and as I've already stated, you're not all that and a bag of potato chips and sometimes you look like a boy.

Point is, you're supposed to be this fancy movie star and people put you on this pedestal for whatever reason. Some people think you're so awesome and say you're this girl-next-door-type? You look more like this girl-next-door's socially awkward cousin from Wisconsin and no good ever comes from Wisconsin. Everybody knows that (except people from Wisconsin, for some reason they think they're all high and mighty). 

Call me old fashioned, but girls are supposed to be pretty. If you're not naturally pretty, do something about it so that people think you are. I mean, my mother would never let me out of the house looking the way you do and I'm not even famous. And there you are, wherever I look, on every single magazine cover as far as the eye can see all disheveled and weird. Have you no respect for yourself? Be a lady. Just shower... at least once a day. Please? Do it for the kids.

Hope you heed my advice.


Cheers (because I know you love the underage drinking the kids are into),

(idk my bff) KIM

P.S. You really do kind of look like you smell.

Cosmo, Eat You're Heart Out. Can You Say: Personal Interest Story?

NOTE: The below article one of the first interviews that I wrote a while back about speed dating. I called it "Speed Dating: Why Rush Love?" (I know--awesome title). I felt this would suffice since I'm suffering from a bit of writer's block. Enjoy.

What is this fascination that we all have with this little thing we like to call “love”? All of our lives we are bombarded with these over-romanticized ideas of love. As children, we are read fairy tales that encourage us to go find our “happily ever after”. In our English Literature classes, we are required to read the lovelorn works of William Shakespeare, who taught us that “love is the most beautiful of dreams and the worst of nightmares”.

Images of love are everywhere we turn. You look up; you see the new billboard for the most recent cell phone fad featuring a man and woman in a lustful embrace. You look to your left; you see the movie poster for the latest film adaptation of a Jane Austen novel starring Hugh Grant or Kiera Knightley. When you turn to your right, you see a couple kissing and holding hands because they are so in love.

You turn on the television; every other channel has their own version of “The Bachelor”. And all you hear on the radio are the new love songs by Alicia Keys or Justin Timberlake. We cannot forget all the pressure you get from your family about why you are not dating anyone, and how you find yourself being the odd man out when you are out with friends since they all have significant others.

All of this can drive a person mad, especially when you are in fact single, and even more so, when you just got out of a long-term relationship. Whatever happened to be single and having fun while you are in your twenties? Why are so many of us in such a hurry to find “the one”?

Recently, I was watching the film, 40-Year-Old Virgin. From the title of the movie, I trust that you have already assumed what it is about. In the film, there was a scene in which Andy Stitzer (the main character played by Steve Carell) is forced by his meddling friends to go speed dating in an attempt for him to meet women. Despite how Andy met the most random and socially inept women while speed dating (in order for hilarity could ensue), the idea of speed dating intrigued me.

In addition to films, speed dating has been put in the plot lines of many television shows like Dead Like Me and Sex and the City. These films and shows are all targeted toward people in their twenties and early thirties; and because of the exposure in major media outlets such as these, speed dating is a growing phenomenon in the dating scene especially with that specific demographic. Furthermore, it only exacerbates my theory that more and more twenty-somethings are in a hurry to find true love.

What is speed dating? Where did it come from? Why is it so popular among young adults? Does it work? This whole idea of speed dating was so foreign to me. Not only did I not understand the whole process of it, I did not understand why anyone would want to participate in it.

According to Caroline Campbell in an article from Discovery: Health, speed dating was “established by Rabbi Yaacov Deyo [and his wife, Sue Deyo] in 1999” who “based [it] on a Jewish tradition of chaperoned gatherings of young Jewish singles.” In Harvard Magazine, Sue Deyo stressed, “Speed dating is about marriage, and for people who want to get married” (Brown 1). The movement worked as a means to keep singles from marrying outside of their faith not only for Jewish singles, but also for other secular communities (Campbell 1). Speed dating events are held for any demographic. There are parties stratified various for ages, ethnicities, religions, sexual orientations, and even professions.

From what I saw in 40-Year-Old Virgin, speed dating consisted of a group of socially awkward individuals, who could not meet people under normal circumstances, engaging in series of brief conversations with other socially inept people and determining whether or not they would like to further get to know the other person based on that same intense three-minute conversation.   Why would anyone want to put themselves in such an uncomfortable situation? I just did not get it.

Maybe I was being close-minded, but speed dating did not look like anything that I wanted to participate in myself. However, it did ignite a certain curiosity I had on the subject. I could not put my finger on it, but something about the entire process was just fascinating to me. To better understand it, I just needed to experience it for myself.

I found out about a speed dating event for singles in their 20’s and early 30’s. It was going to be held at the Wrigleyville Bar Louie. I was expecting the worst. At the door, we were greeted by a bubbly blonde woman in a purple minidress and the booming sound of the bass from the blaring music. The bar was full of young people who were eating, drinking and being merry. “Are you here for speed dating?” the young woman asked. I introduced myself, and explained to her that I would just like to better understand speed dating. She said that I could observe the daters quietly. As she walked me to the back of the bar, she told me her name was Sara and that she was the event’s hostess.

When Sara and I walked into the back room of the bar, it was completely empty except for the few people sitting quietly in every which corner of the room. It was a complete contrast of the front of the bar. I could not help but think that the night was going to be as big of a disaster as it was in 40-Year-Old Virgin. I watched Sylvia, the other hostess, as she checked in a few other people. Eight o’clock rolled around’ all of a sudden the backroom was filled with a group of young people eager to start speed dating.

“A lot of people assume that members of speed dating programs are losers, ugly, have issues or lack confidence…[b]ut [usually they] are actually very confident and attractive” (Smith 2). In fact, I remembered seeing the lot of them at the front of the bar when I came in. I was surprised because none of them really fit the mental image I had of the typical speed dater.

I was expecting very reserved social outcasts, but the young men and women in attendance were outgoing, boisterous, and dressed in the latest fashion trends. I was also surprised with the turn out—there were eighteen men and nineteen women. Sara was happy with the turn out as well. “There’s a good chance that there’s going to be a match tonight,” she said with her southern twang.

Once everyone was settled in, Sara welcomed the group, and explained to them the rules of speed dating. The daters, “armed with a nametag, a scorecard and their sparkling personality”, were coupled together at each table (Campbell 1). On their nametag, each dater had a number that was listed in their scorecards. Next to each number, the dater was to mark whether or not they liked their date. When they arrived home, each dater had to record their answers on the virtual scorecard and to see if there was a match.

Each date lasted about four minutes. During the four minutes, the daters could converse about anything from their occupation to what their favorite movies are. Even though she was having a lot of fun, one dater, Kelly, 25, confessed that after a while speed dating was getting to be a little exhausting. “It’s tiring to have the same conversation over and over again,” the thin brunette confesses, “You can only talk about what you do and where you are from so many times.” I noticed that the daters talked a little faster since they are given a time constraint. Each dater wanted to be sure that they wanted to say everything they needed to say to make the right first impression. Starting a conversation with several complete strangers in one night “requires a lot of confidence, and even some attractiveness” (Smith 2).

With a blow of a whistle, Sara would let the daters know that it was time to switch dates. The ladies remained seated as the gentlemen rotated from table to table. Because there was an uneven number of men and women, the lone single was free to do what he or she wanted during their short break—go to the bathroom or grab a drink. Most of them took advantage of the complimentary appetizers.

The daters on the break would indulge in the spinach dip or bruschetta as Sara would try to find out if there were any sparks flying between any of the daters. “So did you find anyone you want to sleep with?” she would ask some of the daters jokingly, even though she did have genuine interest in whether or not the daters were hitting it off.

“I love seeing who matched up with whom after the party is over,” Sara told me, “It’s one of the best parts of my job.” As the night went on, she explained to me that you were able to tell if sparks were flying between a couple by their body language and facial expressions. Sara was a great hostess would do and she made sure that all the daters were having a good time.

As Sara was making sure all of the dates were running smoothly, Sylvia and I, along with some of the other daters, began to come up with nicknames for some of the party. We dubbed one of them as “Take Home to Mom” because he looked like your typical nice guy. Another one of the guys kept “double dipping”, so Sylvia called him the “Double Dipper”. When any of the ladies would come up to our table they would tell us about “Big Guns”.

From what I understand, “Big Guns” was not the best conversationalist, but he was very attractive and extremely muscular. I believe one lucky lady was able to take him home that night. By gossiping about who was hitting it off and who we thought was cute, it felt like we were just a group of friends hanging out at a bar. It was a very lax atmosphere.

The night ended once everyone had one date with every person in the room. Sara encouraged the group to stay at the bar and mingle with each other as long they wanted. The daters came to this event for a variety of reasons. Some of the daters came looking for love like avid speed dater, Eduardo, 26. He thinks that speed dating is a great way to meet women. “I am very shy,” he confessed, “but in this setting I feel more at ease.” Others, like Jennifer, 24, came to “hook up”. “It’s not about falling in love,” she said, “It’s about having fun.” Most of the speed daters came because they just enjoyed meeting new people. Cate, 22, said, “I live in Wrigleyville and most of the guys I meet are meatheads. I just want to meet someone I could have an actual conversation with.” Sara agreed with Cate.  Sometimes you go speed dating and end up making a friend.

When Sara and a good friend of hers both got out of long-term relationships, they turned to speed dating to get back in the dating scene and have fun. Although her friend went on dates with several of the guys there, she did not.  Sara did, however, become great friends with Lisa, the girl sitting next to her. “We joked around the whole time and exchanged numbers at the end of the night,” she laughed, “Who knew I’d pick up a GIRL?!” Later on, Sara was the one who introduced Lisa to her, now, husband, and they just had a baby together. “So I did make a match in a round about way,” smiled Sara, “Just not for myself!”

By the end of the night, I was pleasantly surprised that speed dating was not at all what I expected. Sara informed me of another speed dating event and invited me to come. It was at the same venue at the same time. 

When I arrived at Bar Louie for the second night of speed dating, I was kind of looking forward to it. I had so much fun chatting with the daters and observing them. I also began to understand why Sara enjoyed being a hostess so much. I was greeted by Sara at the door. She instructed me to go the back of the room and let me know that the event was about to start.

My jaw dropped. Just by looking at the night’s daters, I already knew that this event was going to be the complete opposite of the first one. Sara did too. She turned to me and said, “Last time, you saw the rock stars, and tonight, you’ll see the socially awkward.” There were seventeen young women and sixteen young men this time around, Sara explained the same procedure to them and at the blow of her whistle, the speed dating began.

The first big difference that I noticed between the two groups is that this one was not a drinking group. At the prior speed dating event, the majority of them were drinking and a few of them were slightly drunk. That may have been the reason that group was much chattier than the second group. Tonight, the once comfortable area was very tense. None of the daters seemed comfortable talking to each other. The room was filled with a quiet nervous laughter.

I felt like I was at a junior high school dance. Everyone was wearing their finest clothes, but all of them looked like slightly uncomfortable as if their mothers forced them to wear those particular outfits. The young ladies would sit on their side with their arms folded, and the young men would constantly check their watches as if the four minute conversation was an eternity. The boys were scared to talk to the girls and vice versa. And then there was “Blue Dress” as I called her. In junior high school, she would have been the cliché transfer student who wore her skirts too short and smoked cigarettes in the bathroom.

“Blue Dress”, who’s real name was Vanessa, seemed like the only person in the room who has ever talked to the opposite sex. You could tell that she was on a mission to find Mr. Perfect. Unfortunately for her, she was not going to find him tonight. She knew this and made it blatantly obvious. At one point in the evening, she got up and walked out on one of the poor guys. “It’s like meeting someone at a bar,” Vanessa, 24, told me on her break, “It’s either a hit or a miss.” I got the idea that she has been to a few of these events. Needless to say, Vanessa is and marked a “no” for every young man she encountered that night.

Like most women, Vanessa is choosier than the average speed dating man. “On average, women choose 2.6 men and see 45 percent of their proposals matched… men propose to 5 and their proposals are matched in only 20 percent of the cases” (Belot 10). These percentages average to approximately twenty-two matches per event (Belot 10). In reference to what had happened between Vanessa and the young man she walked out on: “I’m sorry that I have standards. I want to find someone that I just click with and weed out the ones that I don’t [click with]. I’m looking for a meaningful relationship, not a fling.”

That is the very reason why Sara thinks speed dating is becoming increasingly popular. “People don’t want to waste three hours of their life on a date that they know in the first five minute is going nowhere,” said matter-of-factly, “Speed dating helps them skip that painful step.”

I was beginning to think that I was wrong about speed dating. I was expecting the lonely and desperate people to be the only people signed up for speed dating, but they were all completely normal people just looking to meet someone. “People are so busy now. They are used to multi-tasking every little thing---even their love life,” Sara explained to me, “This is a way to meet a bunch of people and quickly decide whether or not you want to see them again.” And it is true; in one night, you are able to meet the same amount of people it would take several weekends to meet.

Also, I was expecting that everyone who went speed dating was looking for love. I learned that just like any other type of dating, sometimes it works and sometimes it does not. Speed daters do not always find a match. The point of speed dating is to help you meet a lot of people and to briefly get to know them. The more people you meet the more likely you may find a match. Speed dating just cuts out the awkward pauses in the initial conversation since the encounter is so brief. The dater will know right away if they want to see someone again or not. It is all probability and holds no guarantee that you will find true love.

I still think that a lot of young people in their twenties and thirties are looking to find someone. Maybe they are not looking to fall in love, but they are willing to explore the possibility of it. They may not be looking for their future spouse right now, but hey, it would be nice if they got to take someone home. A lot of couples are waiting until they are much older to get married, but they are staying in long-term non-marital relationships (Brown 1).

Some of singles are just looking to have some short-term fun—or as Rabbi Deyo would say they were just looking to “hook up” (Brown 1). The rabbi goes on to say that “[i]t’s not because they don’t want more meaningful relationships… it’s a question for them not knowing how to get there…and they [are just trying] to figure it out” (Brown 1).

Sara believes that even though it is acceptable to stay single longer, she still believes that young people put an internal pressure on themselves to find their soul mate as soon as possible. I think that Sara is right. As twenty-somethings we feel pressure to find “the one” just because that is what we know. Even though it is more acceptable to remain single until later in your life, it is still an alien thought to most of our biological clocks.

“Sometimes twenty-somethings settle for Mr. Maybe for fear that they won’t find Mr. Right when really, he is out there,” she stated. As twenty-somethings, I think that finding the one should be the least of our worries for right now. Of course, falling in love is a phenomenal feeling, but it should not consume your entire life. Being in your twenties, you have your whole life to fall in and out of love. Everyone has a “happily ever after”; you just have to be patient and realize that you cannot rush love.