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Broke up with her boyfriend

sothenshe:

One of my best lady friends just ended things with her boyfriend. She’s like a little sister to me. We’ve got the kind of relationship wherein I regularly call her Gutterslut or Troll, since she’s 3’2”, then hold her back by pushing on her forehead while her tiny Tyrannosaurus arms swing angrily in the empty space between us.

Guttertroll fell for a boy who she felt a connection with like never before but it wasn’t a happy ending and she got her teensy little heart crushed. She’s still in the throes of the split, but she’s getting better. The crying-at-all-hours-of-the-day phase seems to have ended. Progress.* Watching her go through this makes me sad. And the want to impart words of wisdom for dealing with a breakup is at an all-time high. So here are my tips and thoughts for coping with such a period of all-encompassing despair. 

*By the by, if you want to give Trollcheese words of encouragement  - or mock her Yahoo email address – her blog is over here.

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Bacheloretted

sothenshe:

Caught the season premiere of “The Bachelorette” last evening. The producers have really outdone themselves this time, scouring our vast country for an elite group of devilishly handsome guys who may or may not be legally retarded. These potential suitors made sure to put their best foot in their mouth forward and Emily really appreciated it. (Or at least I think she did. It’s very hard to tell since her botoxed forehead and eyes refuse to show any emotion other than “surprised fear.”) As I watched, I jotted down some helpful tips for any fella looking for love on a nationally televised reality show, so this is all in chronological order. (This post also syncs up perfectly to “Dark Side of the Moon.” Push play NOW!) 

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Where does this lead to?

We found ourselves walking through the set of Lord of the Rings today. Airy and mysterious, just like the movie. As I took my first step into this enchanting unknown, that familiar excitement embraced my body. Oh, how i missed it.

Fragile rays of sunshine peered through the trees.

The scent of trees, flowers, rotten logs, and rusted chairs captivated my nostrils.

Even though this hidden garden is not located on some exotic island but behind a local theater on campus, I was still fully intrigued by it. The narrow pathway guided us through the garden. Alongside the pathway laid interesting art pieces. There was a fish made of copper sitting next to a white plastic chair. I took a photo of that. There was also an awkwardly shaped rooster attached to the ground by a metal stick. Some of these art pieces are hard to notice. First, they come off as junk rather than art. And second, they are hidden in bushes or situated on some random bark. However, it’s the configuration and placement of these art pieces that interested me the most. It is not exactly the artwork itself that intrigued me but the interaction, the atmosphere, and the aura that the art and the environment created. I can’t quite explain the feeling..

Anyways, it was a beautiful day!

Tried to find love in the club

sothenshe:

A friend, newly transplanted to New York, was lamenting about her latest dickweasel of a suitor (She doesn’t have great taste in men.) I asked where they met. She named a popular nightclub in Chelsea and said he worked there, prompting the rest of us around the dinner table to emit a low groan. As she stared, taken aback, someone offered her particularly sage advice: “Don’t date guys who work in clubs.”

That’s because the men who staff New York’s nightlife venues – elite or otherwise – can be neatly filed into basic categories. And none of them are acceptable for romantical material. In no particular order, here are the male archetypes at play inside the club.

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Coincidences