Tag Archives: chloe cline

Monday Jams: “Tiny Soldiers” by Milo & Otis

This song is just, well, the fucking best. I’ve listened to it on repeat so many times that my neighbors most certainly know it as well. You’re welcome, guys.

After you’ve listened to this and want more (you will), check out their full albums here: http://hellomiloandotis.bandcamp.com


Guest Post Wednesday: Terrible First Date Ideas by Hot Mess Stiles

 

Danielle Stiles is the hysterical vlogger of Hot Mess Stiles, wearer of adorable glasses, and girl crush of many. Subscribe to her YouTube channel now. Like right now. Here ya go: Hot Mess Stiles.

[Editor’s Note: It’s just adorable how she thinks I’m an expert, huh?]


Bullet Point Tuesday: Bad Ass Nana, Part II

nana & me

So this past weekend, my mom, Nana, and I went to Florida. We had some business to take care of that I’m not sure I’m legally allowed to disclose, but we took care of said business on Day 1 and spent the remainder of the trip lounging, reading, and eating potato chips. I know, I’d hate me a little, too, had I spent Halloween in horizontal sleet.

I’ve always considered Nana a bad ass because, after being widowed at 47, she moved Up North by herself, reestablished an entirely new life for herself, which has involved becoming a critically acclaimed artist and living in the woods. Alone. Kinda puts every 20-something to shame who thought moving to the “Big City” was a big deal. Oh, you thought the el was scary at first? Try bears. Literal bears. In. Your. Backyard.

But this trip, I realized Nana’s badassness is multi-faceted. Because not only is she the ultimate Annie Oakley, but she’s also the ultimate lady. Every morning in Florida, Nana would come to breakfast fully dressed in a pressed cotton top, nice slacks, and a silk scarf to accent the outfit. [Note: “pressed” and “slacks” are definitely Nana words. I’m clearly not sophisticated enough for those.] I thought I was doing everyone a favor by coming to breakfast in a cami that had a built-in bra. You’re welcome.

In recent years, there’s a lot of chatter about the modern-day woman “having it all”–the career, the family, the bod. And while I don’t think Nana’s goal has ever been to “have it all,” she certainly emulates a woman of “being it all.” I’ve had so many people take me aside and tell me how elegant and graceful my Nana is. And I’ve had equal amounts of people approach me and say, “That woman has balls.”

Examples of Bad Ass Nana Being Her Bad Ass Self

  • On reading material…

me: Nana, would you like a magazine?

Nana: No, thank you. I brought the Wall Street Journal.

  • On squirrels in her shed…

Nana: I need to buy a bigger gun.

  • On my future…

Nana: Were you singing in the shower?

me: [smiling broadly] I was.

Nana: I remember when you used to do that as a kid. And I’d turn to your mom and say, “Well, she’s not going to make it in the opera.”

  • On animal cruelty…

Nana: See, the thing to do with geckos is when you see one running by, just stamp down on his tail with your foot. Not too hard, though. You don’t want to crush him–just catch him. Then just pick him up and take him outside.

  • On weather preferences…

Nana: Oh, yes, well the best is in the winter when you can turn off the heat at night and crack a window. [Note: Nana lives in Up North, close to Canada, in the woods, with wild turkeys as neighbors. That’s not a metaphor. Literally. Wild turkeys.]

[pause.]

Nana: But once it hits zero or below, I shut the window. I mean, that’s just crazy.

  • On our relationship statuses…

Nana: The three single ladies! [She would just proclaim this randomly–while we were sitting by the pool, out to dinner, at the grocery store, watching the news. It. Never. Got. Old.]

Aforementioned single ladies.

Aforementioned single ladies.

*To read Bad Ass Nana, Part I, in which she helps me weed through Tinder, click here: http://chloecline.com/bullet-point-tuesday-tindering-with-nana/


Monday Jams: “All About You” by Hilary Duff

If you hadn’t heard, she’s back. I’m not sure what I love more about this video: the choreographed line dancing with her friends [does anyone want to do that with me??], the Mercedes they get to drive around, or how it openly promotes creeping and stalking to find your crush. Where were you on that one, Match.com?

Also, is it just me or is she standing on Thunder Road from the Grease drag race scene at the end of this video?


Guest Post Wednesday: 10 Things Alpha Men Find Attractive in Women by Karleton Thomas

suitMost men can agree on the obvious: long legs, intelligence, sense of humor, etc. These are a given when discussing the finer points of being attracted to the opposite sex, but what about the not so obvious? The characteristics, behaviors, and mannerisms that did not make any top 10 lists? Below we have compiled a few of the not-so-obvious. Not all men will find the below attractive, but the right one might.

1. Trash Talker/Competitive – She thinks she can win and has the mouth to make it sound believable. Even when she loses, there is always next time. Gotta love her.

2. Touch of Crazy – Yeah, Yeah, Yeah…I know what my male counterparts have been saying, but it’s not totally true. Since most of us cannot discern the extreme from the justified, we’ve adopted a blanket policy. Truth be told, we love a little nuttiness. It makes life that more interesting.  Just so long as it leads to great sex and can be laughed at over wine.

3. Game for Whatever – She likes a nice dinner and special occasions, but that one bar over there by that one place, she’s cool with that, too. Fun can be had anywhere.

4. Ball-Buster – She pokes fun at you, though never in a mean way. Knows embarrassing things about you and readily queues up the zingers when in private. Best thing about it all, she keeps you laughing, which was the point in the first place.

5. Beer Drinker – We don’t think we care what brand you drink; Blue Moon to breweries– it’s attractive.

6. She Can Eat – Gets excited at the thought of going to try a new spot. Possibly overeats when it is really that good. I even had an ex who was protective of her favorite foods, like a lioness after the kill. That woman was serious.

7. Fuzzy, Warm Adjectives – Passionate, caring, affectionate, sweet, humble, etc. You get the drift. At first, they seem obvious, which they are, but alpha males appreciate them even more. It’s the contrast. Most alpha males operate in a cold world; the aforementioned are warm. It makes for a soft place to land after a long day with the vultures.

8. Know It All – So she doesn’t really know it all, but she knows enough. And when she knows she’s right, she makes for a formidable debater. Big plus if she nags about the “little things,” like seeing a doctor regularly and taking a break from work.

9. Solid – Not her body, but as a partner and problem-solver. Very few things are as attractive as a woman who can handle herself. When it hits the fan, the wheels in her head start turning. There is no need to talk her down from ledge; she’s sitting next to you working the problem.

10. Contrast – I mentioned it above. It takes on different forms, such as the naughty librarian fantasy.  A prim and proper woman on the outside with a mountain of sensual energy bubbling to get out. This is the modern day equivalent of the hard-working career wife or super mom forgoing undergarments at this year’s big social event. More importantly, it’s number 7. None of the above works without 7. That contrast, behind closed doors, is glue.

Disclaimer: Of course, this does not pertain to all alpha men. Definitely does not pertain to douchebags, idiots, narcissistic or misogynist men.  I’m willing to bet on the rest.

Karleton Thomas is the co-founder and COO of LocalLux, an online marketplace to discover unique, local fashion. He’s also a big fan of scotch and bacon anything and apparently women who are fans of both as well. 

[Editor’s Note: If a homeboy can get down with my pizza guzzling, then I think it’s a match.]


Bullet Point Tuesday: Act Like a Lady

sabrina-carpenter-video-cant-blame-a-girl-for-trying-march-21-2014

Maybe it was because I grew up wearing Umbros and playing in the woods every day. Or because my older brother was my best friend and idol growing up, so I spent my developmental years watching Jim Carrey movies and playing whatever Mario was the game of the moment.

I found out that my mom was pretty concerned about me because, come 8th grade, I still didn’t brush my hair or give a shit about what I wore. “Do you think she’ll ever care?” she’d ask her friends with daughters, many of whom were my friends, and liked me in spite of the fact that I thought Looney Tunes high tops were acceptable.

Whatever the reason, I somehow missed the very pink, girly, and put-together boat that so many women seem to understand so effortlessly.

And it was never so clear as it was this past weekend.

My Attempts at Acting Like a Lady

  • The Chanel Make Up Counter

Until last Friday, the closest I’ve ever come to Chanel was a former student of mine, who shared the name and was so incredibly adorable that I just wanted to pinch her cheeks all the time. But she was 14, and I imagined that would embarrass her horribly, so I didn’t. Also, it’s kinda frowned upon for teachers to touch students at all, even if it’s to say, “Ohmigawd you are cuter than the golden lab puppies I saw some chick selling on Milwaukee Ave. from her backpack.” [Note: Nothing makes you want to buy a puppy more than some hippie pawning them from her North Face. Because those pups are clearly off some puppy black market. And I like my puppies like I like my maple syrup: sweet and exclusive.]

So when I heard that Chanel was offering champagne and makeovers (the brand Chanel, not my former student–that would be weird), I made appointments for Lily and me. The woman doing my make up was this super bad ass lady who likes to ski and told me one day I’d mind the creases around my eyes. She asked me what brands I use for facial moisturizer and wash. When I told her Trader Joe’s, I could see her try to hide an endearing smile. I suppose my bougie is adorable.

After my make up was applied and I’d had a few glasses of some champagne I assumed was nicer than Andre, my make up gal walked me through the list of products currently on my face. As she went down the list, I was like…Oh wait, they want me to buy something… Which I aways thought was a Mary Kay thing. See, this is why I like Walgreens. There’s no pressure.

When I asked homegirl to list off the prices with the products, I almost fell off my Chanel chair. $225 for an eye cream; $150 for moisturizer. We were not in Trader Joe’s anymore.

I settled for lipstick, because I’m a sucker and can’t just take the damn free champagne and make up and be on my merry way. It was $38.50. Which is more than I spent on groceries last week.

I’ve since returned said lipstick and spent said $38.50 on beer and pizza.* Because I’m a lady.

  • Spanx

This is by far the best invention since the women’s right to vote. But what this product has in freedom, it lacks in sexiness in any sort of way. It’s a good thing that I know that no man is going to be taking off my dress, because what he’d find underneath would require whiskey and roofies for anyone to find attractive. And a pair of pliers to remove. After which, I’m too exhausted to do anything but watch the next episode of The Black List and eat Teddy Grahams in bed.

  • Hair

I’m terrified.

I had to get headshots done on Sunday, which is a much more glamorous statement than the reality of it. But I realized that the only thing I have close to a headshot is a picture of me from two years ago, slightly tipsy, standing in front of a door with a creepy reindeer ornament hanging on the knob.

So I was a little nervous about, you know, looking like a girl because I’m completely inept when it comes to looking polished. I thought curlers sounded like a solid option to class it up a bit. Except I’ve never tried curlers. And if there’s one thing I could learn from 7th grade picture day, it’s do not try pigtails for the first time, no matter how cute Jewel looks in them.

  • Being Sexy

During the photo shoot, I was asked at some points not to smile, I think to try and be sexy, but they came out with me looking like I was about to murder someone. Probably myself.

  • Flirting

A cute guy approached me at the bar on Saturday. He said he liked my hair. I made fun of his Burberry shirt.

I went home and ordered a large pizza. It. Was. Delicious.

 

*I have not returned it. Yet. But I have plans to do so tomorrow. Which will reimburse me for said beer and pizza.

 


Monday Jams: “Caribbean Queen” by Billy Ocean

Um, if this doesn’t make your Monday better, than I can’t help you. Warning: the drama that ensues in this video is super intense. Like, glass breaking. Literally.


Guest Post Wednesday: That Fat Girl and the Online Dating World by Dana R. Griffin

tumblr_lj3b4qh5H71qhqgp8o1_400_largeAfter a divorce and then a long-term relationship that ended because: a) I got my life together; b) he was  jealous of that; and c) he had no idea who Nelson Mandela was…I unleashed myself onto the online dating world.

My point of entry was OKCupid. My life is crazy busy, and online seemed to be the best option for me. My best friend was also on “the Cupid”  and seemed to have success there, so I thought what the heck. The first person I contacted who contacted me back was great guy who just happened to have finalized his divorce one month before he met me.

After about two years of trying to feel out if this man was ever going to be ready (honestly if they want to be with you, they will and you don’t have to figure it out; men are pretty basic that way).  Needless to say, he was not ready for what I was looking for–an eventual life partner. So I went back to “the Cupid” to see who else was out there…or more accurately, I decided to passively online date. I wasn’t going to look for anyone; if someone wanted to contact me, I would go from there. But I really didn’t have time to waste looking through countless profiles, because, well, I’m busy!

One day a nice guy contacted me and he seemed OK. [Editor’s Note/Question: Pun intended?] He had two kids from a previous marriage. Had been divorced for my minimum amount of time. (About four years seems, in my experience, is an optimal time to heal…and sleep with enough people to get it out of their system so that they’re ready for an actual relationship.) [Editor’s Note: Good. To. Know. Thank you.]

We texted and talked for a couple of weeks before we actually met. We met somewhere close to my house for breakfast because he worked nights, and I had to work that day, and it was the only way to fit it into both our schedules. Unconventional perhaps, but if you can’t be adaptable in dating, you can’t be adaptable with a life partner so why even bother.

Several things were red flags to me when we met.  He felt the need to kiss me as a hello. I’m NOT a PDA girl with someone I don’t know. I am barely PDA with men I do know (at least at that point in my life…but that’s another story). Throughout the breakfast, he was trying to hold my hand before our food arrived. I told him that PDA just wasn’t me and he really needed to stop. Once that ended, I noticed something else. Something I just couldn’t believe.

He had no teeth.

When I say he had no teeth I mean NO teeth–not a ONE.

I couldn’t believe it. I almost couldn’t handle it. My parents spent thousands of dollars on making sure that, not only did I have teeth, but that they were perfectly straight. This man. This 35-year-old man had not one tooth in his head. It’s not like he was a professional hockey player or a boxer or something where he might have gotten them knocked out and then replaced with fake teeth. I could handle fake teeth, but gums? Just gums? Oh hell no.

After the date ended, he tried to kiss me some more. I just couldn’t get the image of his gums out of my head.

I called my best friend and shared my story with him. His reply was not what I expected: “I hope someone could love old, fat, bald me, but if this isn’t something you can get past, then you should put this guy out of his misery.” My response to him was, “Well at least you have teeth.”

That weekend I was headed to St. Louis for a wedding and to visit with my family who I hadn’t seen in years, and I told Mr. Gums I was going to be busy.

The weekend was filled with texts and calls that were above and beyond normal dating etiquette. So not only was this guy toothless, but he was obsessive and, well, annoying. I was going to let him down easy, but changed my mind and went for blunt and to the point. I texted him: This isn’t going work, sorry. I hope you find what you are looking for. 

A little over a month later, I met the man I am with now. In our early conversations, I said to him, “You seem perfect, but I have to know…do you have all of your teeth?” He laughed and said, “Yes. Why?” I told him, and we’ve lived happily ever after.

Now I actually enjoy PDA.

Dana is a 43-year-old, white, single mom of a biracial 13-year-old daughter. She started a new career three years ago in video production and she’s also an online radio co-host. Her background includes music, musical theater, and improv. She studied at The Second City and took a graduate class with Adam McKay at Piven Theater workshop. Name dropper? Maybe a little. For more on That Fat Girl Media, click here

[Final Editor’s Note: I pretty much fell into a deep girl crush upon meeting Dana. Can we just talk about how she called men basic? #basicboy Happened here first, folks. And in lieu of pumpkin spice lattes, Basic Boys carry Lifetime Fitness cards.]


Bullet Point Tuesday: The Friend Zone…The Only Zone

82952823It was my understanding that OKCupid was the easy make-a-date for any single. The one platform where, you might not find true love, but you will find a true self-esteem boost because if you write in complete sentences and have all of your teeth, then you’re ahead of the curve.

Apparently this set of pearly whites is not enough for the gentlemen of OKC. Or maybe it’s the slew of creepy messages these poor dudes receive from me.

In the past week, here are the messages I’ve sent to guys on OKCupid that have–shockingly–gone ignored:

  • “You can make French toast, huh? That’s quite a talent! Especially coupled with bacon! How’s your week starting off?” [Note: Nothing says low standards like being impressed by French toast and bacon. WITH exclamation points.]
  • “Is the ‘bagpipes’ thing like the ‘porcupine trainer’ bit? Just seeing who will buy it?”
  • “Two questions: 1. What’s your Bloody Mary mix of choice? 2. How do you feel about the Oxford Comma?” [Note: Do not mix alcohol and grammar. Ever.]
  • “Sooooo I do ride a bike, but I’m still terrified every time I ride in the city. And I love honey mustard. If those aren’t dealbreakers, feel free to answer the following question: How was your weekend?” [Note: The fact that I would consider talking to a guy whose dealbreakers involve bike and/or condiments is a real low point. Even for me.]
  • “That’s quite an array of photos–from flashing gang signs to flashing hearts to just damn near flashing. Nice. Work. How’s your week going?”

Apparently guys don’t want to talk about their weeks. Or weekends. Or grammar technicalities. Go. Figure.

I was talking to my friend Ron about my tragic attempts to make conversation via a free internet dating platform: “I just keep sending really weird messages,” I said.

He laughed. “Why?”

“It’s not on purpose. I’m. Just. A. Moron.”

But Ron’s innocuous question got me thinking. Why am I sending these awkward messages? There’s no hint of flirtation or real interest in my words to these guys. So, um,  what’s that about?

It was funny this epiphany came when I was hanging with Ron, a recent friend I’d made to add to the list of platonic male companions I have. This past weekend, he and I went to dinner, saw a show, grabbed beers, and talked dating strategies. I’ve become this type of confidant for a few guys, and I love discussing the complicated and strategic matrix of dating with my male counterparts. It’s like crossing enemy lines to get top secret information. Except we’re all after the same goal. So less like enemy lines and more like crossing the 7th grade dance floor.

As someone who used to believe that men and women could never truly be solely platonic friends, I now have several close guy friends who’d rather see me do my 47-second keg stand than model anything from Victoria’s Secret.

“Is there anything there with [insert male friend’s name]?” one of my girlfriends will ask. And I’ll give back a look like I just ate prune and meatloaf baby food with a swig of moscato. Because, though I love and cherish my guy friends, the idea of hooking up with them is reminiscent of some sort of Geoffrey love child.

It worries me that after dating a slew of guys that think politics or animal sacrifices are acceptable first-date conversation topics, when I meet men who are kind, intelligent, compassionate, and also have all their teeth, all I can muster up is a, “Yeah buddy,” and a slug on the shoulder.

I was explaining to another girlfriend of mine how involved I am in furthering my career and how–given my experience in past relationships–I had no true desire to jump into another.

“Don’t close yourself off,” she said kindly.

Um. Oops.

Is that why I’m sending creepy messages to OKCupid guys? Is it a form self-sabotage? Or just not truly caring enough about finding someone to put in any effort, like constructing a message that illicits a response back? 

I have a feeling that it’s somewhere in between. Kinda like half-cooked pizza rolls. And no one wants those.

So, once again, I deleted my OKCupid account. Because I like my dating life like I like my pizza rolls. Fully cooked and full of cheesy goodness.  


Monday Jams: “Black & Blue” by Miike Snow

Miike-Snow-Wave-VideoThis week’s jam came recommended by my buddy Finnigan, whose voice probably sounds familiar if you’re a fan of 101.9 The MIX. Not surprisingly, he’s another one of the many people in my life that has better taste in music than me. 

It’s a light, subtly uplifting tune–perfect for a Monday. And the video proves, once again, that only certain people can truly rock aviators and a robe. Color. Me. Jealous.