Tuesday, December 2, 2008

"Who Gives a F%$@ about an Oxford Comma?"

You've surely heard them.
Maybe you've used them on occasion.
You were "well-meaning" (although I doubt it...).
Maybe even a bit snarky (more on that in a minute...).


These words and terms (prepared NOT according to the principles of Noah Webster, but more according to the principles of some not-so-romantic and not-so-comedic movies) make me nails-on-chalkboard crazy as of late.

Actually, I think I currently loathe the following terms (especially when my name is used in the same sentence, "funny guys"):

Cougar(koo'ger): n. The Mountain Lion. OR An older woman, usually in her 40s or older, who usually sexually pursues men in their 20s and 30s. Please see www.dateacougar.com for further information. No, I do not have a profile posted. Yet.

The "half-your-age-plus-seven" rule: The "half-your-age-plus-seven rule" is one rule of thumb defining a mathematical formula to judge whether the age difference in an intimate relationship is socially acceptable. Mathematically speaking, the rule is: Age of younger individual should be greater than or equal to the age of the older person divided by 2 + 7. You do the math, people. Seriously. I'm too damn tired...

MILF(an acronym of "Mother [or 'Mom'] I'd Like [to] ...") You saw American Pie, didn't you? How old are you, again? (Please see half-your-age-plus-seven rule) O.K. Enough of the movie quotes, you unoriginal fool. Before I punch you in the Adam's apple.

Now for some slang that I LOVE...

Manicorn: a mythical male creature who is successful (read: pursuing his passion and can pay his electric bills/rent), funny, chivalrous, masculine (read: not chauvinistic), adventurous, artistic (read: not suicidal). Also known as "the savior". "Heeeeere you little magical beast, you..."

Snarky: Any language that contains quips or comments containing sarcastic or satirical witticisms intended as blunt irony. Usually delivered in a manner that is somewhat abrupt and out of context and intended to stun and amuse. Origin: Snark. Snide remark. Oh, how I adore the snarky....

Asshat: One who has their head up their ass. Thus wearing their ass as a hat. "Hey asshat, could you stop talking in the middle of the movie..." (Admit it...you're laughing right now) I laugh every time.

*a special thanks & credit to my favorite urban dictionary and Vampire Weekend for assisting me with some definition verbiage and fodder here & there...

Monday, December 1, 2008

Do (insufficient) shoes make the man?

Let's start out this bit by saying this...if you know me, you likely know I'm not the kind of person to hand down a verdict of another person at first glance. (Well, unless I'm with the girls and there's a really good punchline in it for me) I mean, yes, I might have been guilty of a little harmless running commentary on the sparkling whale's tail leaping bravely out of a girl's jeans onto her mid-back. But, I mean it purely in a Tim Gund/Tim Conway-ish kind of way. I mean, hey, if I'm going to see another's undergarments, please let them not be overly whorish and ill-fitting. Or jokes on you.

So back to the footwear question.

Here's the thing. I had a date show up in flip flops. And I found this odd for a few reasons:

1. We were in Dover, NH. In the fall.
2. He wasn't carrying a longboard on his shoulder, nor was he sporting a head of salty blonde curls.
3. He was 42.
4. Did I mention we were in Dover? Landlocked?

So here I am...nervous as hell ('cause I'm horrible at this dating thing) and the first thing I notice are these flip flops. And I am completely horrified and spellbound at the same time. I simply could NOT keep my eyes from clockwork glances down at the choice of footwear. Flip flops. Toes and all hanging out like we were catching a wave and sitting...well, you know how the song goes.

He had really nice feet, though. I'll definitely give him that.

But really?
Flip flops?

I then went through this horrible guilty phase of the date. Where I ordered another glass of wine and beat myself up for getting hung up on the flops. Where I insanely, quietly self-lectured about the immaterial nature of one's footwear and how half-grown I was being.

But truth told, I couldn't shake it. This thought that a flimsy footchoice on the first date makes a man, well, flimsy. Unless, that is, you're Jeff Spicoli. Or my brother-in-law. Because then, you actually live near sand and surf. And you're cool. The flip flops actually make a bit of sense...

I think I hid it pretty well. My concern/obsession about the flops. Because he did ask me out again.

And I, eager to catch the new Cohen brother's film, and not wanting to be judgemental and all fashion-rash, said yes.