Failing at Being Female #3: Please Tell Me That's Not a Love Poem

You know that scene in every chick flick where the guy does something absolutely romantic and endearing to win back the love of his life? Love songs, love poems, a roomful of red roses, a romantic walk by the beach, asking for her had in marriage in public in front of a crowd of strangers…these are classic staples present in many a rom-com. And while women all shed a tear and awww at these romantic displays –and trust me, I do on occasion since any emotional scene will make me cry – please do not do that for me in real life.

I know what you’re thinking, “What’s this girls problem? Who doesn’t want to receive a written love song from the guy you love?” Uh, me? Nothing against love songs, but I just get really awkward when a guy does something exceptionally romantic for me. I just don’t like that over the top stuff! Can’t we just order some garlic parmesan chicken wings and have a movie marathon? Or let’s go to a karaoke bar, have a few drinks, and embarrass ourselves by singing “Baby Got Back” in front of a group of strangers. I’ll take that over a fancy dinner with a violinist playing some sappy song next to me all night.

Well, I guess if it's in this location, maybe it wouldn't be so romantic.

BTW, worst photoshop job ever.

The title for this post actually came from something that happened two years ago with me. My now ex had gotten me a clutch from Coach on my birthday, which was nice but really not needed, and he told me to open it because there was something else inside. As soon as I pulled that ‘something’ out, I saw it was a piece of paper folded into a heart. And the first thought that entered my mind was, “Please tell me this isn’t a love poem.” Unfortunately, I actually ended up saying that out loud. Oops? But luckily it wasn’t, they were concert tickets. Thank. God! I was actually more excited about the concert tickets than the expensive clutch he gave me.

So please guys – cut the cheesy romantic stuff. No, I don’t want a bouquet of roses on our first date. No, I don’t want you to play me a song you wrote for me. And I definitely do not want to receive classic Shakespearean quotes about love via text (I kind of got queasy just writing that). I will run in the other direction. Just give me a normal gift. Something I like. You don’t have to try to impress me. Seriously.

Mint Fever

When I was a toddler I went through this phase where I was obsessed with carrots. I would eat them every day as if they were my only source of life. I ate them so much the palms of my hands started to turn orange. Is this how Oompa Loompas were created?

Anyways, I’m facing a similar dilemma now in my (young) adult life. Except now it’s with mint. Not the mints you can eat, but the color! I’m on a mint craze. I know it’s one of the hot colors this season, but this is borderline unhealthy. If I find something in mint, I gotta have it. It just possesses this magical quality that can make the blandest object look ultra chic. Case in point:

Haha, no I’m just kidding. These will never be chic.

And if you actually thought they were for one split second, you need to reevaluate your life.

So for all you mint obsessed freaks like me, here’s some mintspiration for you: