I trust that everybody between the ages of puberty/“you’re old enough to have a smartphone” and thirty (maybe even thirty-five if you’re the Kardashian type) is familiar with the concept of ghosting. But, for those of you who don’t know, ghosting is when you straight-up disappear, seemingly without reason, from any kind of talking relationship you have going on in your “love life.” Note that I put “love life”
This past weekend, one of the man-children that I’ve dated before (and I use “dated” loosely because it was anything but a healthy relationship) messaged me a month and a half after completely fucking me over to ask for a shitty pair of socks back. (Backstory: he left the socks at my house because he’s such a man-child that he can’t remember the basics of getting dressed in the morning. Also, the
The great thing about being an adult is that nobody knows what the fuck they’re doing either—life is just a matter of guessing until somebody tells you that you fucked up, and then fixing that fuck-up. And you keep going, and you keep guessing. Some people just seem better at it because they’ve been doing it longer. So, the best thing for now is to just do all the tiny things that
One time I was in Hamburg, Germany and I got a text from an ex-boyfriend that made me really sad. Well, a few texts to be honest. He’s the kind of ex who you’re not on speaking terms with, but somehow convinces you to engage in conversation and thereby manages to make you sad from a different continent. (Yes, that’s an official category of exes. You know exactly the kind
Here’s the deal: Everybody has laughed at something fucked up before. Perhaps we don’t want to admit it, but we have. Despite all of the shameful social injustice that somehow persists into the twenty-first century, you probably still find yourself laughing at awkward jokes about race, sexism, mental health, physical and/or sexual violence, etc. when a funny ass comedian performs. Or, at the very least, you’ve probably used some ultimately