“Ryan Gosling is the perfect man. I must have him. Should I tragically not obtain him, however, I suppose I will settle for his real-life clone, who is inevitably out there somewhere.”
Obsessing over every character Ryan Gosling and his abs have ever played is just so unfair to the variety of dudes who walk this earth. No man can simultaneously have the romantic sensibilities of Noah Calhoun, the sexual appeal and prowess of Jacob Palmer, and the relentlessly badass aura of “The Driver.” That would be like asking me to be Megan Fox, Tina Fey, and Karen O all rolled into one (which some guys still do), when I’m just me.
Similarly, real-life dudes are just as awesome in spite of maybe not stealing a ton of cars and penning hand-written love notes every day. We need to accept this before we doom ourselves to lives filled with too many pets and multiple kinds of yogurt.
“I’m totally untagging this picture. Are my arms really that fat? And is my face usually that shiny? I never want to see this photo ever again.”
Back away from the computer, take a calming stroll around your bedroom, and then listen to my words: it’s just a picture. If roughly half of the pictures on your Facebook are attractive and the other half aren’t, no one’s going to decide you are ugly and useless.
Instead, they will know that you are both a babe and a totally normal person who gets droopy eyes and forehead sweat after consuming too much alcohol. No one expects you to be a Barbie (and Barbies are boring, anyhow.)
“My wedding is going to take place on the island of Curacao and my dress is going to have a lacy sweetheart top with a creamy tiered cupcake bottom and my fourteen bridesmaids will be…
I realize I’m making a controversial statement here, but I really think we need to stop planning our weddings years before marriage is on the horizon. I’m not just saying this because expensive-looking invitations scare me and I hate sitting down in dresses. I’m saying it because I don’t want all of our dreams to be collectively crushed.
I mean, what if you’re planning the perfect napkins for your tropical destination wedding but your mother-in-law insists on a church ceremony in New England? What if half of your set-in-stone bridesmaids turn out to be total lying b-tches? And what if (gasp) your fiancé wants a say in how the whole wedding thing goes down too? It might be more practical and less painful for us to cross the elaborate, floral, lemon-tasting marriage bridge when we actually get to it.
“I should not eat that sandwich. That sandwich has bread. Bread has carbs. Carbs are the Judas of the food world; They will surely betray me.
EAT THAT GOD DAMN SANDWICH. I totally acknowledge that we all want to feel good about ourselves, but listen: find an exercise you like, do it, then eat ALL OF THE PIZZA at 3 in the morning. There is something so pathetically sad about living life in fear of food.
“I shouldn’t text him first, right? No way, I’m not gonna text him first. I mean, if he wants to see me, he should text me. Right?”
Sometimes right, but often wrong. Instances in which this is correct: you’ve texted him three times in the past two days and have gotten no response. You don’t remember his face and have him logged into your phone as “Guy mEt at PiananOs bar.” You don’t actually give a crap about him but are in need of something to do.
If none of these are true, grab the man-bull by the dating-horns and TEXT HIM. I see so many girls remain single because neither them nor the guy they want to date is willing to make the first (miniscule, harmless, “hey what are you doing tonight?”) move. Take heed: you may have accidentally found yourselves on another direct path to pets and yogurt.