Being Hungover, 28-year-old style.

A very disturbing thing occurred to me around hour 2.33 of the 84th Annual Academy Awards.

It started as a sort of dull head ache. It wasn't a sinus head ache (back of the eyes) or a hunger headache (for me, somewhere between the temples and the back of the neck). It was more like a woozy head ache, kind of like the way your head feels when you're hungover.

That's when it occurred to me: I was HUNGOVER, MID PARTY.

Around age 25 I came to terms with the fact that I'd never be able to drink "like I used to." The mid-twenties hangovers were, for me, a completely crippling proposition. By 27 I'd officially become a "cheap date." I could feel a glass of wine hit me after four or five sips. By my second drink I was, as people over 40 say, "toasted." The idea of a third or fourth cocktail meant surrendering the entire next day to the spins.

And yet, at least those unfortunate conditions were still within the realm of logic. They're what happens when you get older. They're the body saying, "Sorry old friend. This rager has shifted into dinner party mode." There is a distinct difference between getting more hungover and getting hungover MID DRINKING.

Sos to be clear about how completely ridiculous and unacceptable this situation is, below are the drinks I consumed at their approximate time of consumption:

• 3:30pm - Glass of Barefood Pinot Grigio Champagne to accompany E! Red Carpet Coverage. I filled half a wine glass with this delicious half vino, half champs blend and sipped it to completion, approximately 20 minutes later. For the record I don't love Pinot Grigio and only drink champagne if I'm feeling fancy, but I did enjoy the combo.
  

• 4:15pm - Half of a can of La Croix seltzer, lemon lime flavor, aka NOT ALCOHOL. The champs made me thirsty so I shared a seltzer with R and, in an unplanned move, slowed the climb toward toasted.

• 5:00pm - Second glass of PGChamps. Again, half a glass. Again, delicious. This time I accompanied the bubbly with a FULL plate of food including Tinker Tailor Shepard Pie, The Ides of Starch (mac n' cheese), an Extremely Brown Incredible Roast, some Glen Cous Cous with Albert Nobbs of Feta, and a bit of my own Brie of Life. The food should have soaked up the booze, but I found myself fairly tipsy around Best Costume Design. Speaking of, that was 100% J. Lo's nipple. No doubt about it.
  

• 6:00pm - 3rd glass of PGChampas. I know what you're thinking, but it is worth pointing out that these were little glasses (5 or 6 ounces), and that I once lead a Drinking Survivor team to a case race win by drinking (EYE MUFFS MOM!!) 4 beers in 10 minutes.

Now at this point I started to feel pretty tipsy, so I broke from the boozing and had another 1/2 can of seltzer. No, I don't know why I can't drink a full can of seltzer, but I can't.

• 7:00pm - A FULL HOUR later I poured myself a glass of the blood orange-infused vodka based punch that my friend Jordan gifted upon the party. His pun: Maybe She's Born With It Maybe It's Abbeline's Party Punch.

Maybe the highest proof was in the punch because around 8:00 that dull headache started to roll in, and by 8:30 I was a tad on the woozy side, aka HUNGOVER. Drunk is blurry/happy. Hungover is hurty/woozy, and unfortunately this fell on that side of the divide.

So this is what it's come to. I'm 28 years old, and I get hungover after consuming four light beverages in as many hours. This is almost as mortifying as the fact that my knees now hurt a little after walking in heels all day long. I used to walks MILES in heels for HOURS at a time. This is unacceptable...unacceptable and embarrassing.

And yet, it was sort of nice to wake up feeling fresh as a flower. I was mid hangover by the time I hit the sack. My 8am the next morning was like noon after a night of drinking in my early twenties.

Also, flats are kind of comfortable.

This Is Who I Would Vote For If I Were a Member of the Academy

Now that I live in Hollywood I'm more qualified than ever to comment on the pending Academy Awards. My house is 1.5 miles from the theater formerly known as the Kodak theater! My friend Ben works on the team that produces the awards! I got my own copy of the Hollywood Reporter Oscar Issue at work! Guys, I am the Oscars.

Before you read on, please note: these are not my predictions for who will win (though I've included those) nor are they my predictions for who should win (those are there too). All I'm really interested is who I would vote for if I had what I can only assume is a gold-plated, velvet-embossed, finger-print protected Oscar ballot in my hands.

Also, I've only included the categories I personally care about, and I purposefully left Actress, Actor and Picture 'til the end, because that makes it just like the real awards!

Here we go.

Best Supporting Actor:

• My vote - Jonah Hill - I know this is a wildly unpopular opinion, and a slap in the face to some incredibly seasoned actors (Plummer, von Sydow), but I thought Jonah Hill's performance was the most surprising and most out-of-character. In fairness, I didn't see Warrior, so technically I can't make a fully educated vote, but neither can most people in the Academy, so it's all good.
• Should win - Probably Nick Nolte, from what I'm hearing from people (read: R)
  
• Will win - Christopher Plummer, and it will be well deserved. BEGINNERS was very good. It's just that "old, recently out gay man with terminal cancer" feels a little bit like the obvious choice, and you know how much I love gay men.
  

Best Supporting Actress:

• My vote - Octavia Spencer - She gave a really powerful performance in a movie I didn't particularly love. This is a tough, again, because I didn't see ALBERT NOBBS, and people are saying Janet McTeer was really exceptional.
  
• Should win - I guess Janet McTeer, in keeping with my Nick Nolte thing.
  
• Will win - Octavia Spencer - I'd put my favorite pair of shoes on it, and they're vintage Prada's I got at an outlet in Italy.
  

Best Adapted Screenplay:

• My vote - Moneyball - And this is coming from a person who does not know, understand or like baseball. I thought the script was smart and compelling.Moneyball wasn't my favorite film of the year by any means , but I still liked the script best. I'm a dialogue girl (#shitLApeoplesay), and I thought Moneyball had the best of the year. The Descendants was up there, but not as good, according to myself.
  
• Should win - Moneyball - I'm supporting my own self on this one. That was a very strong script.
  
• Will win - The Descendants - It's on a roll based on previous awards, and the Academy loves Alexander Payne. I really liked this movie, and definitely appreciated the script, but there were things that rubbed me the wrong way in it, as opposed to Moneyball, which I liked throughout.
  

Best Original Screenplay:

• My pick - 50/50 - I don't care that it wasn't nominated; it should have been. 50/50 had an original voice (#moreshitLApeoplesay), solid story, and incredibly poignant moments. I loved it, and I'm legitimately upset that it was snubbed.
  
• Should win - Margin Call? I don't really know. This is a tough category for me because as I see it The Artist is a silent film, A Separation is a foreign film (somehow selectively in this category), Midnight in Paris is not my favorite Woody Allen film, and, though this may shock you, I think Bridesmaids is slightly overrated (slightly! calm down!)
  
• Will win - Midnight in Paris - Don't get me wrong. I really enjoyed this movie. I just don't think I can say it was the best original script of this entire year.
  

Actress:

• My vote: Michelle Williams - This was a really, really hard one for me because I thought Meryl Streep was spectacular, and I recognize what a powerful performance Viola Davis delivered. That said, My Week With Marilyn made me like Michelle Williams, an actress I previously disliked, strongly. It also made me fascinated with and intrigued by Marilyn Monroe in a way I didn't expect. I knew I'd be wowed by Meryl. I didn't expect to be so moved by Michelle.
  
• Should win: Meryl Streep - It was a remarkable transformation into a difficult character that required, in my opinion, far more acting than some of the other nominees. Again, this is hard for me because I have a thing for gender-bending best actress performances (see also: Hillary Swank in Boys Don't Cry), but I think Meryl in Iron Lady is more nuanced than Glenn in Albert Nobbs. Also, people are always like Meryl ALWAYS wins, but she doesn't. She's only won twice, and the last time was something like 18 years ago. She can win again this year.
  
• Will win: Viola Davis - I'm not sure I'd offer up favorite-pair-of-shoes confidence on this one, but it's fairly certain in my book. Viola was excellent in some moments, but I can't say I think she was better than Meryl or Michelle.
  

Actor:

• My vote: I want to sit this one out - Clooney was very good, but I think he's been better in other stuff. Same goes for Brad Pitt. I didn't see Tinker Tailor OR A Better Life, and I just don't know how I feel about the whole silent film situation, actor-wise. Jean was certainly great, but was he greater than a speaking actor? I don't know, so I'm taking a pass. Frankly, If I could vote for any actor in any performance of the year, it would probably be Paul Giamatti for WIN/WIN. That was an awesome performance. If you haven't seen it, you should.
  
• Should win: Probably Demian Bichir - I'm hearing he was completely killer. Can we say that about any of the other nominees? I really don't think so, and I did cry at The Descendants during one of Clooney's finer moments.
  
• Will win: Jean Dujardin - It's a Roberto Benigni moment.
  

Picture:

• My vote: Hugo - I still can't tell you how they shot that movie or what parts were real vs. CG. It was absolutely stunning on a grand scale that you don't see often these days. I was charmed by the story, impressed by the actors, and, most importantly, transported into the world created on the screen. Not everything about it was perfect, but I believe it was a filmmaking feat, and those are the kind of movies that should win Best Picture.
  
• Should win: Hugo - See above. It is worth pointing out that I've never experienced anything like Tree of Life, and was very affected by whatever it was that I did see, but I can't support it for Best Picture because I think that film should be enjoyed by a larger audience.
  
• Will win: The Artist - It will not be a tragedy when The Artist wins. It is a lovely and unique film that takes viewers on a journey into a totally lost era of filmmaking. That said, it was a little too small for me to be considered "the best." If you take away the silent film thing, what's left? A sweet love story. Of course, you can't take away the silent film thing, which is why it will win.
  

And now onto the task of creating my edible entry into the Annual Oscar-food-pun competition. Last year I took home the gold with my baked brie in the shape of Jeff Bridges profile from True Grit - BAKED (JEFF) BRIE-DGES. I'll reveal this year's equally genius entry on Sunday.

Enjoy the awards!

One thing guys should never, ever say in the presence of a girl.

This will be brief because the situation is just that simple.

A few weeks ago I witnessed a very uncool thing happen at an otherwise cool event. (All the details are not important, but it is worth noting that the bar was hidden behind a restaurant Hollywood, and I drank delicious, free punch out of a super chic, vintage punch bowl.)

Over the course of the party I got into a conversation with a guy who was there with a girl who is his friend (as in, not his girlfriend). From what I could gather they are good friends who spend a good amount of time together. It was also made clear that both the guy and this girl are single.

Our conversation made its way to the fact that the guy does not have a girlfriend but would really like to be dating. "Are you open to being set up?" I asked. "Definitely!" he responded. "Great," I said, "Tell me what kind of girl you're looking for."

The guy shared a few details (pretty, funny, successful, interesting), then he proceeded to commit the crime that prompted this entire blog post.

"I'm looking for someone who's exactly like __________," he said, "but obviously not ________."

The name that fills in those two blanks is the name of the girl he was standing with.

Guys, actually, people of all genders. NEVER DO THIS. NEVER EVER. Even if you're entirely sure that the person you're referring to has zero feelings for you.

By saying you are interested in someone exactly like the single and available person you're standing with, but obviously not the single and available person you're standing with, you're actually saying one of two things:

1. You would date that person.

Why would you go looking for someone else who is exactly like the available person standing directly in front of you? That makes zero sense. Good people are insanely hard to come by, especially in L.A. So if this person you are standing with is exactly the kind of person you're interested in dating, DATE THEM!

Now, if the issue is that you can't date that person (they're your boss? they already dated your best friend? they're a Jew and you're a very strict Mormon?), fine. That's an extenuating circumstance. But, for the record, it doesn't make the statement any less awkward.

2. You would never date that person.

If the person is available and without the reasonable deal-breakers outlined above, then you obviously DON'T want someone exactly like them because they are them! So what you're really saying is, "I want someone pretty much like you, but better..."

Taller? Thinner? Smarter? Better looking? Whatever. That's the stuff lost in the, "but obviously not __________," part of the statement. Why is it so obvious? What's so obviously wrong with a person who is exactly like the person you're looking to be with? Those are the questions they're asking themselves after you vaguely insult their entire person in front of a group of people.

Let's wrap this rant up.

New Rule:

Never describe your ideal girlfriend (or boyfriend) by comparing them to a person involved in that very conversation. If they're available to be dated, it's a massive insult. If they're unavailable to be dated, it's super awkward.

And, if you're looking for a way to find out if your friend who is a girl is interested in being a girlfriend (which is what I suspect was going on that fateful eve I witnessed...), find a method that doesn't involve rejecting her in front of a group. That's what you're doing by suggesting you want someone just like her, but not her. Sack up and ask her out, or ask a third party to tell you if she's into you too.

Carry on.

What Girls Really Mean When They Say They Like Nerdy Guys

Decoding the details behind the common girl claim: “nerdy guys make the best boyfriends!”

He has passions beyond sports, video games, and boobs.

Being a “nerd” in the “girls love nerds” sense isn’t about understanding all of The Big Bang Theory, it’s about having interests beyond those of the typical brute boy set.

Sports, videos games, boobs and the like are perfectly fine, but food, travel, politics or urban farming represent a world view that’s as respectable as it is sexy. Nerds have “their things” and they’re not influenced by whatever the frat president is all about this month. More often than not they come from a dad’s woodworking hobby, mom’s love of cooking or some article he read in science monthly while everyone else on the bus was making out.

He actually pursues those passions versus talking about how much he likes them on his couch/The Facebook.

Nerds on are message boards about the new restaurants in town and likely have a list of “places to eat” in Excel chart form. They don’t just have interests, they pursue those interests, whether or not they have a group of people at hand to join.

Behind this, as with many elements of the nerd personality, is a general lack of care about what other people think. You like Russian classical music, awesome. You follow that with a passion and don’t care who thinks it’s lame. Same goes for World War II history or computer programming or architecture of the world. Nerds don’t put “being cool” over being themselves.

He worked hard to fairly hard through most high school and all of college.

You know who thinks high school is a waste of time: jerks. Nerds, on the other hand, care about their grades because they care about both their future (as in, ability to do well in this world) and they care about their legacy (as in, don’t want to be thought of as jerks).

Thinks of all the coolest guys you knew in high school – the bad boys, the class cutters, the kids who smoked in the areas where you weren’t supposed to smoke. How many of them are successful guys you'd want to introduce to your parents?

He’s (probably) never been a quarterback, prom king, or president of the frat.

There’s something unassuming about the “nerd” classification. It’s not that they couldn’t be in charge of something – be it an athletic team or social circle – it’s just that nerds don’t need that stuff. They let the other guys win because winning isn’t particularly their thing. That said, many a nerd probably ranked very high in their high school debate team or Model UN group.

Key here is that these guys were never a part of an organization that was worshiped by groups of women. As such, they never got away with treating women poorly because they had their “star status” to fall back on. This explains why they’re nice.

He’s not particularly mean, and he doesn’t like people who are.

See above, for starters. First, it’s that nerds have never had an excuse to be mean because they’ve never been part of something that was bigger than appropriate behavior (read: the college lacrosse team). But beyond that, nerds just don’t get off on being bullies. They’ve been bullied, and so they support the little guys out there, regardless of whether or not they’ve “late bloomed” out of that category.

This whole position comes from the fact that nerds have lived a life without tons of friends or bros, so they don’t need to be friends with jerks for the sake of having tons of friends. They’d much rather have no friends than crappy friends because they’ve survived having no friends in the past.

His goal is to look fine every day and somewhat good when it matters. Other than that he doesn't care much about his hair style or outfits.

It’s a general lack of vanity that makes a nerd a good man and therefore great boyfriend. He’s all about everything but what he looks like. That leaves time for things like thinking about you, complimenting you, and paying attention to you above most else. This is a simple but important factor. It’s not about the fact that the girl should be the image-focused one in a relationship, it’s about the fact that the guy (But really both parties, ladies. You’re not off the hook) should be about substance, not image and status.

He has plans for the future, and he’s excited about making them happen.

They may be plans for a comic book convention next weekend or plans for a trip to India next Fall. Bottom line, nerds go do things that they want to do. That’s as basic as it sounds for a reason. They’re not tied to watching a specific game because that’s what all the guys are doing. They don’t need to sit on the couch all day because they’re so hung-over. Nerds have initiative because they’re driven by their interests, not what they believe they should be doing because on the cool kids’ schedule. (note: fantastic men also watch sports games and get hungover. These are not mutually exclusive to jerks.) Point is, because they’re not at all tied to the cool kids’ behavior, they can geek out about their plans like none other. This is adorable for many reasons, but at the core it’s the fact that nerds aren’t boring.

You make him nervous, but that doesn’t stop him from pursuing you, albeit nervously.

Again, it’s the whole “I’ve never been cool, so I’m not going to start trying now thing.” It’s a total lack of confidence that bizarrely manifests as a strong and quiet confidence. Nerds aren't afraid to fail, so when they want something – in this case, to date you – they put that want above their own pride.

This doesn’t mean nerds don’t make awkward mistakes in the dating realm, but that’s what makes them so endearing. You can tell just how much they care by what they’re willing to risk to make that phone call or send that e-mail.

I'm glad The Grammys Let Chris Brown Perform, and Here's Why

I followed the very public response to the Chris Brown/Rihanna situation from the moment TMZ first published the disturbing, post-abuse images of the beaten pop star.

I'm sorry. It's not "the Chris Brown/Rihanna" situation. Abuse is not a "situation," it's a crime.

I've also been closely following the very public response to Chris Brown's recent Grammy performance. The questions of, "did he deserve to perform?" and, "does he deserve to be forgiven?" have been debated from every angle. The Daily Beast has an excellent opinion piece by Marlow Stern, as one example.

I tend not to weigh in on these kinds of divisive issues. As a member of the "entertainment industry" I know that what's "right" is not always a factor in the products that go into and out of this machine. There is a church/state like divide between morality and entertainment. It applies to things as trivial as The Bachelor and serious as the details surrounding the infamous Real Housewives suicide. It's a supply/demand market. If people have the demand, Hollywood is happy to supply. This is not the entertainment school or the entertainment foundation, it's the entertainment industry. What governs it is not morality, it's money.

Do I personally think it is disgusting that Chris Brown has maintained, ney, expanded upon his popularity in the music and entertainment industry? Ies, absolutely. Do I blame the producers of the Grammys for including him in the telecast? No. It's not their job to make a morally sound show. It's their job to make a show that people will watch.

Now I'm going to say something that may be very controversial: I'm glad the Grammys producers included Chris Brown in the show. I hope more entertainment outlets shower Chris Brown with publicity and attention. I hope he wins more awards and received more accolades. The more attention Chris Brown gets, the angrier critics of his continued popularity will become, and longer the issue of his having beaten his girlfriend will stay in the press, where it belongs.

It has been three years since Chris Brown beat Rihanna. In those three years Chris Brown has only apologized to his girlfriend/assailant via text message. In fact, the only public incidence of him discussing the issue ended in his blow up at Good Morning America. It is rumored that Rihanna and Brown have spent time together, and even hooked up in the years since the abuse. As a result of all these things and more, the way Chris Brown is viewed in the eyes of many young women has not changed. Here are 25 tweets from teenage girls across the country, all stating that they'd be fine, even happy, if Chris Brown beat them up. Literally, “I would let Chris Brown beat me up anyyyy day.” And, most disturbing of all, there's this story from The Daily Beast article:

“I discovered a picture of Chris Brown inside of [a female student’s] binder cover,” said Chloe. “I tried to explain to her that he was not a role model and she just didn’t get it. I even showed the student the photos of [Rihanna’s] bruised face and she claimed they were Photoshopped.”

That is a problem. It's a problem that's bigger than whether or not Chris Brown performs on the Grammys, though his performance is no doubt a piece of the whole. It's a problem that the entertainment industry cannot solve alone.

Do you know what would happen if everyone who rolls their eyes at The Jersey Shore stopped watching The Jersey Shore? MTV would cancel it.

Do you know what would happen if everyone who believes Chris Brown is a terrible role model for human beings (this goes far beyond children) stopped buying his music? Or if they wrote to his record label expressing their anger? Chris Brown would become irrelevant.

We don't have to shake our heads and say it's such a shame that Rihanna went back to Chris after what he did to her. We can tell her it's a terrible message for young women through comments, blog posts, articles, and, most importantly, not buying her music.

I love those catchy pop tunes as much as the next person, but if I have to stop listening to Umbrella so that one fewer girl gets beaten by her boyfriend, that's fine by me.

All too often we, and certainly I, hide behind the fact that this is a free country where people can buy music sold by criminals and watch TV shows that celebrate dysfunction. We are both part of the problem, and capable of the solution.

That's why I've decided to weigh in on this devise issue, and I hope you will too.

This Valentine's Day, maybe love means sacrificing your first true love

If you know me, then you know that I love high heels. When I was five years old my Uncle Erik, a photographer, brought my sisters and me a giant bag of out-of-this-world power lady pumps left over from a photo shoot. Since it was the '80s, they were all jewel tone satin with rhinestone details around the toe or heel - a little girl/drag queen dream. I'd prance around the house in them from my bowl of Kix til my 8pm bedtime. It was the beginning of a love affair that has spanned continents, literally.

In '04 I studied abroad in Florence, Italy. In our pre-arrival documents sent from the college was a list of DO NOT PACK items, among them, in bold, spiky heels. You'll kill yourself walking on the cobblestone streets of the city in anything but a chunky heel or flat, they warned. I packed four pair of stilettos and bought two more at the Prada outlet over the course of my semester. I'd rather walk slowly than wear flats. Hell, I'd rather fall on my face than wear flats.

In my attempt at a defense, there are reasons for this obsession that go beyond "high-heels-are-super-cute."

1. I'm only 5'5", so my heels are often confidence boosters, a way to maintain my place in a height-centric world.

2. I have an extremely long torso and extremely stubby legs, so I need the heels for their unparalleled leg-lengthening abilities (especially a nude heel...my god does that work wonders).

And 3. Some skirts/pants/dresses/rompers/gowns look ridiculous with the wrong shoe choice (read: a flat). This may seem like an opinion, but if you know shoes, you know it's a fact.

And yet tonight, despite my fashion judgment and the fact that the little dress I'm wearing looks really good with my purple suede platforms, (you knew this was coming...) I'll be wearing flats.

R is a man of wonderful height, but he's not the tallest guy in the room. If I'm in 5" heels, we're the same height, if I'm in 4" heels, I may as well be wearing the 5 inchers, and if I'm in 3" heels I may as well be wearing flats.

He's never said he doesn't like my shoes (though he has mentioned that he thinks I have three pair of the exact same shoes...which I obviously don't), but I know he prefers to hug me at a certain height. He did not and would never ask me to wear the flats tonight, but I know he'd like to reach for my hand and find it slightly lower than his own.

So for those two mini reasons, I'm leaving the heels home tonight.

It's a simple thing...stupid even...but when I think about what it means to love someone, this trivial decision holds legitimate meaning.

There was a time when I'd say, "whatever! I'm an independent woman, and I'll wear whatever height footwear makes me feel best." Now what feels best - especially on this particular Hallmark holiday - is making R feel his best too. It's a different "best" than a killer pair of high heels can inspire, but isn't that what the search for true love is really all about? Finding a way to one-up the way it feels to love a pair of shoes with the way it feels to love a human being?

Happy Valentine's day to you all!

Perfecting the "Come Hither" look

I've finally figured out why I A. often struggled to get guys to approach me in bars and B. hate both Mary Louise Park and Scarlett Johansson.

The answer, in a picture, is this:



See what they're doing there? Smiling but by no means really smiling? Saying, "oh, hello there..." without actually suggesting that they want anything to do with whomever they're looking at?

It's like they're both full of passion and lust and yet don't have a single thought running through their minds. Are they happy? Are they sad? Are they drunk? I don't know, and neither do the men of the world. All they see is a look that somehow means I AM SEX.

That is a face I have never made in my entire life.

Well, that's not true. Earlier this afternoon I tried to make it 15 or 20 times in R's bathroom mirror. I think I got one or two out, but I can't be sure because there weren't any guys in R's bathroom to give me blank sexy-eyes back. The realization came to me after I found myself both furious with and instantly attracted to Mary Louise Parker as featured in a new commercial for Showtime. So if you ever want to include someone in market research about the effectiveness of an ad campaign, I'm your girl.

It dawned upon me after re-watching that ad on YouTube 3-12 times, that I've spent most of my male wooing years making a face that looks something like this:

See what Julia's doing there? She's actually smiling by employing the use of an up-turned, open mouth that reveals ample teeth. That smile says, "HEYHEYHEY! YEAH! I'm RIGHT HERE! YEE-HAAWW!!" It is not mysterious. It is not vague. It is in your face happiness. That is the look I generally met would-be suitors with in my formerly single life.

For comparison sake, let's take a look at Julie doing the MLParker/ScarJo:

Mmhmm. Closed mouth. Curious eyes expressing no real sense of a defined emotion. Awkward positioning of the body sos to suggest both flexibility and the potential to walk away at a moment's notice.

Is she hungry? Is she horny? Men don't know, and so they're compelled to approach her so they can find out. I think... I don't really know what men like about this, but I know that they do, which is an improvement upon my previous 15 or so years of understanding.

Once again, it's this:

Versus this:

Are we all clear?

Ladies...and guys, I guess? Wait. Is this gender neutral? So it would be:

Versus:
............................................................................................................

That was me looking through about 300 images of Ryan Gosling "smiling." Not a' ONE of them features a millimeter of teeth. Case: closed.

There is a look that says, "hello!" and a look that says, "um...can I help you?" And one has a significantly greater impact on the opposite sex than the other.

Okay. I think that about does it for the most ridiculous and yet informative blog post I've ever written.

Good luck to you all.

Why Breaking Up Is (Digitally) Hard To Do

A good friend of mine recently went through what can only be described as a very mature break up. Both parties were polite. Both parties were honest. Both parties felt respected in the process. That does not mean there wasn't heart ache and disappointment, it just means no one was in blatant violation of my previously outlined rules of breaking up. All seemed discussed and settled; the two would part ways, indefinitely.

Or...until a few days later when one among the set (obviously not my friend) sent a message via an iPhone app game. It was a friendly message, but an unwelcome and unexpected hello. Seems they had forgotten to break up over all the necessary digital channels. According to Words with Friends, they were still friends, exchanging words.

Turns out breaking up - like all of life - is now a multi-prong, digital process. You can do it IRL (as the tween set says), and as respectably as it comes, but then you have to work through what to do re: Facebook, Twitter, Linked In, Words with Friends, Hangin' With Friends, Instagram, FourSquare, and any other tools that previously suited your collective fancy. Mutual or not, amicable or hate-filled, no one wants to be reminded that it's "their turn to make a move." It's not. All moves have been made. The game is officially over. (that's Words with Friends puns, in case you've foolishly decided against counting).

So, what to do? You've had the break up convo, post break-up e-mails, and post break-up e-mail convo. How do you slink out of the followings, friendships and games?

The way I see it, you've got three options:

1. Cut off all ties without explanation

Unfriend, un-follow, end game. It's not the most mature thing you'll ever do, no, but who cares? The relationship ended. You don't owe it to Words with Friends to finish the game. Words with Friends doesn't care...in its current version.

Regarding whether or not you're upsetting the other party in your former party of two is the real issue. Will he/she be hurt? confused? sad? Or, worse yet, will they think you're an immature, sad sack who couldn't finish a freaking game of digital hangman that isn't even called hangman?

For lack of kinder way to say this, who the hell cares?!?! You are no longer in a relationship. If you're the breaker-upper concerned about the dumpee, that's kind, but unnecessary. You're only hurting your former flame more by giving them hope that if the game lives on, so too might your love. If you're the dumpee concerned about whether or not the person who just dumped you will find your process of digital detaching rude or immature then kindly remind yourself that this person just opted against dating you. Their rights to stalk your Facebook page have officially ended.

2. Cut off all ties with brief, awkward explanation

Full disclosure, this is what I would do because I'm too chicken to end it all without some formal statement like, "I think it would be best if we stopped playing this game of online Scrabble for obviously reasons." I can't decide if I would go through with a de-friending or de-LinkedIn-ing, but those are easier to manage because the other person doesn't receive a, "Jessie ended your game," message.

If you do deploy this more PC method of cutting ties, try to do it with as little melodrama as possible. Your goal is to remain the bigger, better person through this break up. That gets hard if you send a message that reads, "I was going to play GOODBYE, but I didn't have the letters...seems fitting..."

3. Do not engage in digital game play or social networking with someone you have been dating for one year or less.

Do you really need to be playing digital hangman with a person who you talk to 25 times a day? I realize the answer is yes, you need to be playing digital hangman with as many people as humanely possible so there isn't a moment in the day when you're left with zero options for procrastination. But still, there's something to be said for keeping it closer to the chest. Of course, I'd probably give pause to someone who refused to accept my LinkedIn request until we'd be dating for a bit longer.

I know it's awkward. I know it's uncomfortable. I know it requires a degree of self control not common to our generation. But just think, 10 years ago you'd have to drive your Cabriolet over to some jerks apartment and pick up your CDs in person. This is way better than that.

*1,000 points for you if you noticed that, if you had the letters in the image up top, you could spell RIP, which is one brilliant way to end the game/relationship.

Two Genius Things To Improve Your Online Dating Plight

It's rare that I use the words "genius" and "online dating" in the same sentence, let alone blog headline. But in the case of these two game-changers, the hyperbole applies.

Meet EATER DATING and HITCH.ME (aka LINKED IN DATING). Here are their stats:

EATER DATING

Origin: The popular food blog Eater.com

Mission Statement: connect like food-minded people through like food-centric dates

How It Works: (their words) "Each day we'll send you new dates that match your interests. And, of course, we'll send the dates you post to people who might like them. Then you can check out people's profiles, message, and go out. It's fun, easy and natural. People are at their best when they're doing what they really like to do. And that's what HowAboutWe is all about: helping you to find people who like the same places and want to do the same things as you."

Why It Works: (my opinion) You finally have something very specific to organize a date around, an "excuse" if you will. I've been dying to try these sandwiches at a specific shop in Los Feliz. If I were on Eater Dating I'd find someone interesting and propose that very idea. Now it's not just, "you seem cute" or "I like you profile" but "I notice you live in Loz Feliz, and I've been dying to try this specific sandwich at this specific restaurant. Want to join me?"

Who It Works For: Technically everyone, but it will probably work best for people who enjoy trying new restaurants and are interested in interesting foods.

Really?? Compatibility Based on Food Choice?: What? You've got a better idea? Dating is a numbers game, so the more chances you give yourself to meet someone based on like interested, the better.

HITCH.ME (aka Linked In Dating)

Origin: That online networking tool that everyone seems to join, but no one I know actually uses, LinkedIn.

Mission Statement: Official: connects the professional world and the dating world through a secure online portal. Obvious: you can always get away with pretending it's for networking purposes. That's how I spent most of my 20s...

How It Works: (their words) "Joining Hitch.me is free. After you sign up you get access to members LinkedIn profiles and you can filter members based on our extensive advanced search. For viewing members personal profile and communicating with them you will have spend Hitch.me credits. Credits can be earned on the site by making a secure payment through any credit card. "

Why It Works: (my opinion) Call me narrow-minded and career-obsessed, but I do think job-related compatibility is a good and helpful thing. Even if you - a PR maven - have always been attracted to techy types. At least you get a strong sense of who the person is from their employment history.

Who It Works For: Probably best for people who really use LinkedIn. If you're a musician, writer, or freelance reporter I'm not sure it will apply well.

How is this not the least sexy dating platform ever?: It is. So what? You want the sexy to come after you get past the person not being a psycho.

Good luck out there, and please report back on your findings!

Things I Used To Do To Impress Boys

In light of the Superbowl this coming weekend, I've been reflecting on a whole host of things I used to do to impress boys. Here, in no particular order, is that very embarrassing list.

Know About Sports

Look. Bottom line. I don't know sports. I'm one of four girls. We were raised ballet dancers, not athletes, and my poor father knew early on that we were not the "have a catch in the yard" types.

I understand the basic rules (except for "off sides"), scoring methods, and major celebrities of each game. I can also name a lot of teams and their locations, but that's mostly because I have a fairly photographic memory, and they're on TV a lot. But when it comes to actually following any given sport (aside from Boston College football from 2001-2009), I don't.

Aanddd yet in many previous circumstances I have been more than a casual fan of sports (which is the truth. I do enjoy watching them) for the sake of a given male. 99.9% of women do this, which makes it right by virtue of majority.

Know About Really Cool New Music

Here is a list of my favorite musicians: Tina Turner, Bonnie Raitt, James Taylor, Billie Joel, Billie Holiday. I'll stop there because the rest are pretty much the same.

I have never been cool in the music department. I know this because when we were little my cousin Geanna was really cool in the music department, and I was hyper aware/embarrassed about this fact. To this day she is one of the news editors of a music blog called F*cking Nostalgic, and I write listicals about lying to boys.

Buut I have been to a concert or three with a boy or so who was super into this brand new, underground, blue grass, hipster-ish, cello trio that I became similarly super into the minute I was introduced. Did I lie about liking the music? No, never. Did I make it seem as though discovering new artists was a thing I was also really into? Yes, yes I did.

Get Ready To Go Out Really, Really Fast

This is weird, but I used to have this preconception that guys respect girls who can shower and get ready really quickly. As such, this was a huge practice I adopted in college. I wasn't one of those prissy girls who needed 45 minutes and three curling irons to get ready. I was whatever about it. Who needs to get all fussy about their looks? Who's such a prima donna that they can't get out of the house in 20 minutes or less?

Um, me. I am. And when I look at all those pictures of myself from my college years I wish my current me could go give me former me a swift kick in ill-fitting pants.

Eat Daring, Meat-Centric Meals

See above. Replace "get ready really fast" with "eat crazy meals involving lots of heavy meats." I'm by no means a vegetarian posing as a meat-lover so some carnivore will love me back. I'm an adventurous eater who, outside of the company of men I want to impress, would have more likely ordered a pasta dish.

Buuut I had heard one too many guys complain about that girl who eats like a rabbit, and so I made sure to hide my healthier side until we had a few dates under our rapidly expanding belts. Note: I still kinda do this...

Be Really Short and Void of Tone in Texts

In my first few years on the dating scene I was all about personality and quirk. I'd send funny mach.com e-mails and adorable texts just to be clear this guy knew exactly what kind of wordsmith he was getting by selecting me as a (potential) girlfriend.

Then I realized that A. most guys don't need/want that much personality, that early on and B. I was spending WAY too much time editing 160-word texts into perfection.

Be Their Best Friend

I spent a lot of time from 18 to 20-oh-7? being a "guy's girl." Buddy-buddy. Not-too-feminine. "One of the guys." I was a regular plot line in a lame romantic comedy or episode of FULL HOUSE.

Until I realized that guys like girls (unless they like guys, but that's something even I can't pretend to be). They like that they can teach us stuff about sports. They like that they can make us mixed CD's of cool, new music. They like that we eat healthy, and make them eat healthy sometimes (but only sometimes...). And, if they like us, then they like our e-mails, our texts, and the outfits we come up with after 35 minutes in the closet (though they will openly admit they'd prefer it took 15).

And So...

Turns out you can't pretend your way into a boyfriend. Or, rather, you can't pretend your way into a legitimate relationship. I feel like that was probably also covered in an episode of Full House, but I was too focused on my love affair with DJ's boyfriend Steve to absorb the lesson. I would have totally pretended to love sports for him...

I have a 22-year-old friend who is walking across America

Last week I had lunch with a 22-year-old boy named Ebram who is walking across America.

Yes, literally walking. Yes, literally America.

I didn't know that's what he was up to when my sister Sara connected us over e-mail. He was just a classmate of hers at Boston College (my own Alma mater) who wanted some advice on freelance writing. He did mention something about being in California on account of the beginning of a journey, but I assumed West Coast road trip, not full country foot trip.

When we set the plans, I asked if he had a car to get around, and he said he'd be getting around mostly by foot. "That's going to be tough in L.A." I told him, not knowing that L.A.'s got nothing on Colorado...in February.

Things started to become clearer when Ebram asked if the cafe I'd chosen had enough room for the push cart he uses to get from one place to another. I envisioned one of those tall, rectangular granny grocery shopping carts common to the New York city set. But Ebram's push cart is nothing something a granny would use, and it's not something that would fit in New York City. It's cart is the kind you use to, say, walk across America.

He explained his plan to me with a look that acknowledged how crazy it sounds. "But people do it all the time," he told me, "and there's a whole network of people out there to use as a resource."

I'll be honest. I thought he was crazy. I thought, you poor, sweet, idealistic Millennial biding your post-grad time with a, frankly, dangerous adventure. You're like that SNL sketch they ran two weeks ago - "You Can Do ANYTHING!" - that made fun of 20-something lost souls who believe that, so long as it fulfills them, they can absolutely make a life out of Irish step dancing while doing Chinese calligraphy.

Then my 22-year-old self slapped my 28-year-old self in the face, and I started to look at Ebram through a slightly less cynical lens.

So the kid wants to walk across America. So he's looking for a great, big adventure. So he doesn't know what to do with himself after college, but refuses to sit on his parents' living room couch.

Should we be so surprised given the way kids these days grow up? (yeah, I just said kids these days. It's come to that). Many are sheltered in non-diverse suburban communities. They collect friends on the Internet, not at the bus stop on Hollywood and Vine. They learn through text books and local field trips, not be actually going to nation's landmarks. And, and maybe rightly so, they're not allowed to ride their bikes past the end of the development.

I get why Ebram wants to walk across America. I'm still worried for him, and I'm still not sure he's going to magically know what he wants to do for a living once he gets to the other side (note: my words, not his), but he'll probably know a whole hell of a lot more about who he is, and what he's capable of handling. He'll probably also have a thousand stories from a thousand people who've lived longer than he's lived. And if he does end up following the passion that prompted our meeting - his passion for writing - then he'll no doubt have something way more specific to write about than the contents of this very blog.

"I think what you're trying to do is awesome," I told him as he prepped his push cart to take off on another leg of the great walk, and I meant it.

Why not walk across America instead of taking an entry-level job in finance? At the end of the day you'll learn way more from the walk than you'll ever learn at the bank.

And isn't that what being a 22-year-old should be all about?

You can follow Ebram's journey via his blog - Heybram.com - and Twitter - @ebrammegally. Or you can earn major karma points and host him on his trip. Go to heybram.com/ii to look at his journey map, see if he's passing through your area, and fill out the google form if you're interested in hosting. Somewhere Jack Kerouac just rolled over in his grave...

This is exactly what happens when you go for a mammogram

Here is the longer version of my story recently published at Thought Catalog. The full version was only suited for smaller corners of the Internet...

I went for my very first mammogram recently because I'm getting close to 30, insurance covers it, and sometimes my left boob is a little hurt-y. I realize that is TMI for many readers of this blog (hi Dad!), but I'm disclosing in the name of safety.

Because this was my very first mammogram, I was understandably nervous about the unknown details of the procedure. For how long, exactly, would I be naked? To what degree, exactly, would they be squeezing and shoving my boob into some freezing cold device? Do I technically have enough boob to be squeezed and shoved into said device?

Here, to help you move more gracefully through your own first mammogram, is exactly what happened at mine:

1. I found a failed parking meter five minutes prior and two blocks away from my appointment!! I took this as a sign from God that I did not have cancer.

2. My doctor's office - and perhaps yours? - is now using an iPad for new patients to enter in their medical history. Despite having an iPhone, it took me 15 minutes to complete my medical history on this device. It is worth noting that I do not technically have any medical history.

3. 10 or so minutes later, a Russian woman came to retrieve me. She called me Jessica, which made me feel older, more official, and like I looked like I had this mammogram thing totally under control.

4. The woman showed me to a dressing room and handed me a pink robe. She directed me to leave my bottoms on, make sure the robe opened to the front, and go sit the pre-procedure waiting room when I was done. Then she left before I had time to ask her my 145 questions.

5. For the next 8-12 minutes I hid in the mini room debating how, exactly, to tie the robe.
Man oh man that robe... First of all, it was too long to be a tunic but too short to be a cute dress. Also, I had foolishly chosen to wear a knee-high boot that day, throwing off the already disastrous proportions. And finally, none of the placement of any of the eight ties closed the robe in any logical manner. I tied and re-tied that thing ten times before I was content enough to leave the little room, and even then there was a gaping hole around my chest area, of the not sexy-peep-hole variety.

Note: Upon arriving in the special waiting room I discovered that the reason why the robes look like crap is because they're actually the ones that are meant to tie in the back. (some rookie didn't follow directions). Brand new iPads are a lot more affordable if you're stealing gowns from the hospital, aren't they...

6. Another 10 or so minutes went by before another Russian woman came to get me for the procedure. Her name was Oksana, and she actually did look like what Oksana Baiul might look like 17 years and 35 pounds after the '94 Olympics. As such, I believe it was her.

7. Oksana brought me to a room with curiously good lighting and instructed me to lay on my side. She then squirted a gel fluid onto my boob (which was blessedly warm) and proceeded to rub my boob using one of those x-ray sticks they use to tell pregnant women if they're having a boy or a girl. I did not laugh even though it tickled like hell. I remain very proud of this fact.

Now heeere's where things got tricky.

Oksana lingered around several areas of the boob and took what I believe were photos based on a camera-like clicking sound. I had a clear view of the monitor showing the picture of whatever results from the x-ray wand, but I was too afraid to look, so I just looked up at the ceiling the whole time and focused on not giggling.

After an amount of time that I felt was particularly long based on absolutely no prior experience with this process, Oksana gave me a towel to wipe off the remaining goop. She then said two things in what I believed to be a very grave voice: "Do you have any family history of breast cancer?" (I do not) and "I need to go review your films with the doctor." And then she left, rather quickly in my opinion.

And so I'm like, okay, I have obviously cancer.

Long procedure? Family history question? Immediate need to review films with the doctor? I watched six out of eight seasons of Grey's. I know imminent bad news when they're keeping it from you. This. Was. Bad.

I spent the next 15 minutes deciding how to tell my parents and outlining the book I would write once I kicked this thing! (it was a collection of humorous essays). I may or may not have also practiced my reaction to the news, out loud. I was going to go with a combination of, "oh god..." and, "are you sure?"

While the above paragraph is written in a comedic tone, there was NOTHING comical about sitting in that room for 10 minutes and waiting to find out that I did NOT, in fact, have cancer. As it turns out the doctor ALWAYS has to review the films and ALWAYS comes in to let you know the results.

Note to Mammography Offices: THAT'S a detail you want to share with your patients before the procedure begins. MISSION CRITICAL info folks.

After the doctor informed me that I did not have cancer based on the x-ray stick results, I asked her if Oksana was going to come back and get me for the actual mammogram part. After all that unexpected nonsense I was itching to shove my boob in the freezing cold machine and get outta there!

That's when I found out that I was only scheduled for a sonogram, not a mammogram. Apparently those are the preferred method of screening these days.

Note: I did end up seeing the mammogram machine inside another examination room, and it didn’t look that scary.

When it is okay/right/appropriate/safe to say "I love you"?

A week or so ago I got an e-mail from one of my best friends from college. The subject line: "those three words......" Her question: when, if ever? is it too early to say "I love you"??

Here is how I responded:

A. I love that you sent me this e-mail. Means the world.

B. I don't have an official answer, but I have written on the subject before. Here's that post - "Who Should Say I Love You First, and Why?" (Ed Note: yes, I market my own former blog posts to my own best friends).

But regarding the question of "WHEN" someone should say "I love you" here are my thoughts:

"I love you" for people who don't throw that term around, is a very big deal. It means, not only, I like dating you, and I want to sleep with you, and I want to be your girlfriend, but "I feel really strongly about what we have and want to see it continue to a serious way." That's why I think it scares so many people. They don't want to make that big proclamation unless they're SURE the other person feels the same way. So in that way it has nothing to do with the amount of time you've been together and everything to do with how you feel about each other. I knew I loved R after we'd been together for about 2 months. I said "I love you" around month 3.5, but that's mostly because I was all cheesy about it, and wanted to say it at a special moment. But there was no doubt in my mind about how I felt, and pretty little doubt in my mind that he felt the same.

I think THAT'S the most important part of finally saying it. Yes, there's always some doubt in your mind that the other person isn't QUITE there yet, but you mostly know that when you say it, they're going to say, "I love you too" or at least let you know how much it means to them that you're sharing that love. Some people want to have their own "I love you" moment meaning you could say it to him, and he might want to wait to say it to you in his own moment. Totally fine and understandable, in my book.

So can you say it too early? Yes, if you have no indication that the person you're with feels the same. You can "I love you" bomb someone, and that will probably not go over well. But if you're feeling it strongly, and you suspect he feels the same, it's just a very, very special formality.

Update: She said it, he said it back, and according to the exclamation point-heavy e-mail, it was very, very special.

Food for Freak-out: The bad news about getting paid to do what you love?

I read the follow excerpt from an article called "The Overjustification Effect" that I found on a website called YouAreNotSoSmart.com. I should have known any article from a website by that name would piss me off.

It's a long piece with a lot of history on psychologists' understandings of the way humans are motivated and fulfilled - interesting stuff if you're interested in that stuff. Below is the chunk that I felt most applied to me slash us. In a nutshell - if you get paid to do what you love, you'll begin to associate that work with a monetary reward versus a natural sense of fulfillment, and after awhile, you'll stop enjoying the work.

Here's the excerpt. My thoughts are below.

"Maybe your story goes like this: Work is just a means to an end. You go to work; you get paid. You exchange effort for survival tokens and the occasional steampunk thong from Etsy. Work is not fun. Work pays bills. Fun happens at places that are not work. Your story is in no danger if that’s how you see things. In an environment like that Skinner’s assumptions hold true, you will only work as hard as is necessary to keep getting paychecks. If offered greater rewards, you’ll work harder for them.

Maybe your story goes like this though: I love what I do. It changes lives. It makes the world a better place. I am slowly becoming a master in my field, and I get to choose how I solve problems. My bosses value my efforts, depend on me, and offer praise. In that scenario, rewards just get in the way of your job. As Kahneman’s and Deaton’s study about happiness showed, once you earn enough to be happy day-to-day, motivation must come from something else. As Kahneman and Deaton’s research into happiness and money showed, the only material reward worth seeking once you have a bed, running water and access to microwave popcorn, are tributes, symbols to all of your merit, stuff that demonstrates your effectance to yourself and others. Ranks, degrees, gold stars, trophies, Nobel Prizes and Academy Awards – these are shorthand indicators of your competence. Those rewards amplify your internal motivations; they build your self-esteem and strengthen your feelings of self-efficacy. They show you’ve leveled up in the real world. Achievement unlocked. They help you construct a personal narrative you enjoy telling.

The overjustification effect threatens your fragile narratives, especially if you haven’t figured out what to do with your life. You run the risk of seeing your behavior as motivated by profit instead of interest if you agree to get paid for something you would probably do for free. Conditioning will not only fail, it will pollute you. You run the risk of believing the reward, not your passion, was responsible for your effort, and in the future it will be a challenge to generate enthusiasm. It becomes more and more difficult to look back on your actions and describe them in terms of internal motivations. The thing you love can become drudgery if that which can’t be measured is transmuted into something you can plug into TurboTax."

Every time I read this excerpt I cringe a little. I am a person who falls into the second category - a person who aspires to get paid to do something I love. This theory implies that I will eventually come to dislike what I love because it will be associated with the same employer/employee frustrations of any old job.

Fine. I buy that. I see how that could becoming incredibly taxing. But what's my alternative?

Is the article really saying that I'm better off working a job I do not like and pursuing my passions on the weekend? Americans spend an outrageous percentage of their life at work. Are we just supposed to not enjoy an outrageous percentage of our life so that we don't taint the fulfillment of our passions by bringing them into the pay-for-play structure?

The article doesn't offer any advice on what you're supposed to do if you have a passion that could become your paycheck. Should you ignore it in favor of more mundane work that pays the bills? Should you find work that's close but not cigar in an effort to preserve the work you truly love?

Or should you do what I intend to do - go for it knowing that some frustrations, a different structure of motivation or a slightly tainted passion is better than ignoring the passion all together?

I demand a follow-up piece. I want to know what the frustration level of a 75-year-old who never pursued their passion looks like versus that of one who did, even at the expense of some pure joy around that art. And I really want that research to come back in favor of my life plan...

Are You A Young Adult?

Answer the following yes or no questions to determine just how much like Mavis Gary - Charlize Theron’s WAY less than real-life ready character in YOUNG ADULT - you are!

1. Do you wake up face down on your bed in last night’s clothes with a massive hangover more than three times each week? Y / N

2. Do you chug diet coke in a futile effort to get over that hangover? Y / N

3. Do you have a dog named after a major fashion brand or reality TV personality? Y / N

4. Do you neglect that dog on a regular basis? Y / N

5. Do you live less than 100 miles from your hometown but treat it like it’s an alien planet? Y / N

6. Are you currently harboring a deep-seeded love for a former flame that is not at all grounded in reality? Y / N

7. Is he happily married? Y / N

8. Do you often find yourself wearing the same shirt several days in a row? Y / N

9. Is it often a shirt that you woke up in one day, several days ago? Y / N

10. Have you ever had a total and complete meltdown, then immediately slept with someone

you genuinely do not like? Y / N

11. Do you believe you have the capacity to learn from your mistakes and become a better person? Y / N

12. Are you drunk right now? Y / N

Scoring

Give yourself one point for every “no” answer, two points for every “yes” answer on questions 1-11, and five points for a “yes” to question 12.

Results

20-27 points – What are you doing with your life? The answer is, all the wrong things. Put that dog up for adoption, cut back on the booze, and get over the man. Bridget Jones’ Diary is an excellent read for this sort of life transformation.

15-20 points - You’re teetering, friend. Things are touch-and-go, but you’re not quite the disaster you could probably be. Congrats for that, but watch yourself if any adorable dogs become available or former flames become engaged.

0-15 points - You’re an actual adult. Kudos! Feel free to rub this in the face of your less-than real-life-ready friends and/or siblings. You may be slightly boring, but at least you’re not anything like a fictionalized character in a dark romantic comedy.