Friday, February 1, 2013
Ive had a lot of boyfriends throughout my life. If I were Taylor Swift, some of my hits would be titled "We Were So Weird Together," "My Dad Can Stop Worrying About Paying For That Wedding" and, my personal favorite, "Everyone Just Thought You Were A Douche."
Marie Claire UK recently quoted Taylor with saying, "It's not my fault if someone gets into a relationship with me and then cheats and I write a song about it."
As a writer, I understand the need to express my thoughts creatively. Over the years, I have come up with some joking nicknames for my exes that I feel others might relate to. Please, help yourself.
This is the boyfriend I thought was the latest and greatest thing at the time, and I couldn't possibly imagine something better. But I'd look pretty stupid now if I were still walking around with it.
Everyone has an opinion on cilantro. They either love it or they hate it, but I've never met anyone who was indifferent to it. Moral of the story; I developed an aversion to cilantro.
The boyfriend who always was there and I just took for granted. And one day, there he was, just floating lifeless at the top of my bowl, so I had to say goodbye.
I had everyone convinced this was a very expensive article of clothing. But it was slowly unraveling underneath because it was never the quality of Chanel.
Oh man, so much potential here. But just ended up a disaster.
This is the boyfriend who was an alcoholic.
The Kentucky Cousin
Kind of felt like kissing my brother.
The Ben Affleck
Everyone thought he was a nothing special, so you left him. And now he's super successful and the perfect family man. Whoops.
The Mambo No. 5
Really fun at home in private, but you would never acknowledge it in public.
It hit the spot like no other. But ultimately, it's just not healthy to be having that every day.
I spent so much time trying to figure this one out it just became not fun anymore. So I gave up.
He started off like the most loyal companion ever ... until I realized it was because he was [bleepin'] crazy. "No, Ma. I'll do it. He's my dog."
The Ricky Martin
He's a great dancer and super sensitive ... but he's gay.
I looked at him long enough that my perception made him into something he wasn't. And soon I realized he wasn't a bunny holding a hula hoop; he was just a cloud.
Ultimately, the goal is to have The Lemonade boyfriend. If it's not some imitation Crystal Light or packaged Country Time crap, I never don't want lemonade. I could have it all day, every day. It has nutritional value, it hydrates and it's sweet. I appreciate every little sip and I need a little sugar in my diet to make me happy.
Plus, I'm convinced anyone who doesn't like it is a communist.
I cannot wait for the Super Bowl, but not because I'm rooting for a particular team. As a matter of fact, I couldn't tell you which color jerseys are playing because I stopped paying attention once the Washington Redskins lost.
I am excited because, for at least another six months, I won't have to pretend to like football, just like Lennay Kekua did.
It's not that I'm a girly-girl. For whatever reason, I've just never been particularly interested in sports. Maybe it was the fact that I never understood how players changed their allegiance to teams so I didn't understand why I couldn't. Perhaps I didn't like the way that when a team would lose, it could make or break an evening. Or maybe it's because I'm usually so sloshed by halftime of anything I never experienced the excitement of a win.
On one particular birthday, my boyfriend at the time surprised me with tickets to the USC-Notre Dame game. I probably didn't need to preface that with "at the time" as we can all gather he is now in my Rolodex of exes. And the verb "surprised" is a euphemism. I felt cornered.
While it was a lovely gesture, it was clearly a "Homer giving Marge a bowling ball" birthday present. I wasn't expecting a Gucci purse or even a Red Lobster dinner. (Turn your nose up at cheddar bay biscuits and Sutter Home. I dare you.) From that day forward, I felt threatened by sports, as though they were another woman.
Over the years, I've felt certain pressures by guys to love their teams. Ashleymadison.com profiles tell me that men love a girl who can just "hang out in an old T-shirt on the couch and watch a game with me." I've been very forthcoming about my disinterest in that world, though I've made up for it by not going the complete opposite route and donning a pink jersey with pigtails and face paint, cheering whenever prompted.
I've always figured if I ever married, then 20 years in, I probably would cheer for the team my husband cheers for. But to expect me to get on the bandwagon right off the bat of whatever team the guy I'm dating loves has always seemed disingenuous. I don't like expectations.
However, I have seen the disappointment on the faces of boys I've dated, not just due to their teams losing, but also due to me not caring one way or another.
So this past football season I tried something different. I feigned interest in my boyfriend's team, the Redskins. I watched those games as if I were watching Miss Illinois aiming for Miss America and I found myself ... somewhat interested. I can't say I'm waiting on pins and needles for next football season, but that saying, "Fake it till you make it"? Well, I think I made some serious strides.
"I'm sorry, did you say 'meggings'?"
This was my internal dialogue when I stumbled upon the headline "How 'meggings' are taking fashion by storm" on a British newspaper's website. I knew all too well what this meant. Meggings are leggings that are ... wait for it ... made for men.
I once had an experience with a boyfriend who hated my jeggings. These are leggings that look like jeans—or jeans that look like leggings, depending on whether you're a glass-half-full kind of person.
He didn't find either acceptable. My argument was comfort. This was the same argument women shot back with for more than a decade when the whole Uggs craze wore out its welcome and it no longer was acceptable to wear those Godforsaken things in bars.
If men do indeed find meggings comfortable, I would implore them to wear them in the comfort of their own homes and, even then, only if they already are married. I'm still convinced the only thing standing between me and a ring on my finger is my collection of Uggs I wear around the house.
My hope is these meggings will catch on slower than my grandma backing out of a parking space. I mean, whose bright idea was this?
We can't just blame Justin Bieber, who's been spotted in them. Someone had to have given him a pair. Is this some weird marketing ploy because of an overabundance of Lycra? What's the tagline? "Meggings: For the soprano in every man"? The only men I want to see in tights are those working on a Disney cruise ship and Mikhail Baryshnikov.
I know it's weird. I mean, since when do I have standards? But I gotta draw the line here. Meggings are about as good an idea as that old guy in "Jurassic Park" thinking bringing back velociraptors would draw in a crowd for a fun park.
This isn't just a British and Bieber thing. Fashion experts have meggings pegged as one of 2013's "must-haves" for the season, reputable news outlets are reporting.
I'd really prefer a balanced budget. The only reason I could see the meggings as a must-have would be to burn them so there's one less pair out there for a misguided soul to buy.
I'm not only scared that men in my wheelhouse will think this is an attractive look, I'm also terrified the Bieber generation of women won't know a Stetson from a beanie. What happened to Levi's and a nice button-down? I'll even take a ratty plaid shirt.
I've always found one of the sexiest images to be a man putting on cufflinks. I just can't imagine watching my dude slip into a pair of meggings or, for that matter, out of them. Furthermore, would I have to assist him? I don't want to live to see a day where I have a man begging me to take off his pants.
By the way, Selena Gomez called. She's dating someone who doesn't wear meggings.