Category «single»

Hair Product Guide to Make Your Man Hair Straight

Hair Product Guide to Make Your Man Hair Straight

No matter what type of hair you have today, you need help looking a cut above the rest. Look better than them and be better then them. Turn your hair from a hot mess to a 5 star Italian cuisine. Going to the barber shop is good for keep your hair cut and maintained. But, you could use hair products to make your hair look ever better. Give it a shine that reflects with the Sun. Reduce all the flakes out of it and make sure hair is smooth as lemons on a woman’s thighs. Very slick and tempting to touch by the on goers who look at it. We want to help your hair look its best by introducing you to different hair product types and telling you what their good for. Read what is below and use our knowledge to help you succeed further.

Try Hair Spray for Hot Days

Hair spray is not just to make your hair smell good. It can greatly increase your hair’s flexibility when you out on the beach. When your on that beautiful beach, you want to look beautiful along with it. It’s hard to do that after a couple hours. That’s when the intense Sun turns your good hair into a dry and hot mess. The salt water doesn’t make it better either. It just makes your hair look even dryer. Pay attention to the people’s hair when they get out of the shower and dry. You see what I mean right? Buy some hair spray and take it with you. Spray a little of it on hair every so often and the dry hair look that you don’t want the girls to see will be gone. Hair shines with the Sun and becomes softer. The softness increases if you use more. Buy a hair spray with a good smell. Smell is important when you spray a lot of it on your hair. By the way, you should get a small bottle of dry hair spray. In case, you want people to think you have a mint spray or cologne spray. Some people might be wondering why you need a giant bottle of hair spray at the beach. Hey, you shouldn’t worry about the size too much. But, you got to reasonable at times with the things you take with you at the beach.

Wash Hair With Hair Gel

Hair gel works better on your hair then the traditional shampoo wash. Gel has high amounts of lather which is fancy for thick soap and clean washing minerals. Hair gel provides a medium level of hold on your hair. It won’t stay in there longer then it should. It gets in and maintains hair’s natural look without the shine. Adds minerals and the right amount of moisturizer to keep hair balanced for a period of time outside. You can look good naturally. The best hair gel for men is the gel you should start with. It helps men the most by being tailored to fit men’s rough and often unwashed hair. Additionally, the men hair gel has a manly smell to it. Make the women and other men know that you’re a cut from another cloth. Sent from some strange land to do great things. Let the smell push off that aura of manliness. Hair gels come in different flavors too. You can go with sweets some days and tough guy on other days. The way you want to smell with your hair is up to you. In essence, try out hair gel and make your hair look normal and not flashy.

Awkward – An Introduction to Reese

I am awkward as ass. It’s a known fact. However if you know me you probably don’t think so: because. you. know. me.  When I meet new people I am confused and try desperately to find a common ground to stand on while I try to start conversation.  It usually consists of “how do you know ‘so and so’” or “oh, i like your outfit where did you get it?” It’s reality and I’m ok with it.

The true reality of things is I that I am so perpetually single lately and honestly a hopeless romantic at heart that I see most things as opportunity… movie-like opportunity.  I randomly meet guys and think oh this could be a cute story.  I avoid eye contact when I meet someone I think could be cute and fun to hang out with.  I picture myself eventually pushing the curls out of my eyes and looking up at who I am talking to only to see someone looking back at me just as awkwardly as I am.  One can only hope.

Let it be known that I am not hard on myself and truly do not see myself as #unDateable as I so often claim.  For, that is a joke and I am aware that no one is truly UnDateable, but we all do things that we may see within ourselves as unsavory when given the opportunity to be with the right person… or really the wrong person…. we all have to learn.

The point of this whole long-winded diatribe is that there is someone for everyone.  I know this.  You know this (whoever you are that happens upon this) And eventually things work out the way they are supposed to.  I joke that I will never find anyone again, or anyone who “gets” my work and my sense of humor… but that is not fair because I have a very small criteria for those who date me.  Get along with my friends, and make me laugh.  Other than that I have nothing.  The minute you start to focus on sexual proclivity, race, build, or height you loose the true meaning of love.  I never want to lose that or become so jaded that I no longer can look beyond superficial attributes.  We are all missing a piece. A piece we eventually find and fit perfectly with.  It just takes time to change your shape to make things fit the way you never expected they ever possibly could.

Being Single is Okay, Great, and Even Powerful

So as I mentioned in my last post I’m single again. I’ve had some conversations with some people about what happened. But what it comes down to, is that I know I’m happy being single, and if I’m not happy with a man, there is only so much work that can be done before I go back to living a single and fulfilled life, rather than a stressful coupled one.

Part of the reason I’ve been writing about being single, solo, and dating, for all of these years is because I’ve always wanted to help others celebrate and normalize that being solo and unpartnered is not only okay and fine, it’s pretty awesome. I grew up in a place where people get married at 22. While I try not to judge, if you get married at 22, that’s you’re own decision, it’s like if you’re not married by 25, you’re unlovable. And being childless at 32? Oh dear god, I’m sure the whole town is still shaking their heads whenever I visit.

I spent my high school and college years in very serious long term relationships, because mostly that’s what I thought I needed to do. While certainly, neither was physically abusive, I certainly stayed in both my high school and college relationships much too long. I felt suffocated, controlled, and unhappy. My college relationship was a disaster, and I spent the better part of 4 years figuring it out. It’s the biggest regret I have in my life— staying too long and not learning to be happy being single.

And now I’m single again. He banked on the fact I’d stay. He’s a great person, but just never learned to be a great boyfriend or partner, and that’s what I’m looking for. He banked on the fact that once you’re in a relationship, you should stay in one, and I have different ideas.

“I need a partner who wants to come pick me up after I’ve been gone for a week. Who remembers my bday. Who comes to see me when I’m in the ER. I have to stop pretending someday that this will be you. Because it’s not.” This was my breakup text to him.

I write all this today to hopefully continue the normalization and conversation of encouraging you to not stay in relationships when you aren’t happy. That could mean so many things. I don’t claim to know what it’s like to be physically abused, dependent on someone, share children with someone, and I certainly understand those things create complications, but please remember, don’t stay with anyone you’re not happy with. Work hard at making it work, sure, don’t just give up every time things are difficult, but please do not stay with someone, especially someone who is mentally or physically abusive. I promise you will be okay. I promise.

Of course you all saw the Ray and Janay Rice video, and you probably heard about her defending him. This upsets me to the core of my being. I don’t attempt to put Janay down, or understand, but please, if you’re in a bad relationship, get out. Just get out. Live your life solo and safe.

-Melinda

DISAGREED: Anti-Tinder Tries to Solve Online Dating’s Creepiness Problem

You may have seen this article today in the Huffington Post Tech about the new dating app, Hinge. Well, new to Chicago, and that means new to me. Hinge sends you 6 matches a day, based on your larger social media network. So you’re connected to friends of friends who have also signed up for the app.

I’ve been a Hinge user for a few months. I don’t check it all the time, I only have the app on my iPad, and last night I signed on in to look at my daily matches.

So turns out Hinge is actually the creepiest goddamned dating app I’ve ever used.

Because…

It matched me with a kid I used to babysit in 1996.

DISAGREED: Anti-Tinder Tries to Solve Online Dating’s Creepiness Problem

A few notes on that point.

A) I’m not from Chicago. I grew up 3 hours south in a small town. There are maybe 30 people in the city from my hometown. This kid and I grew up a block away from each other. My mother has known his mother since like 1989 when she was pregnant with this kid.

B) My first… serious boyfriend… (first. serious. boyfriend. Get it?) is his cousin. They share the same last name.

So Hinge brings to me the people I know, attempting to be anti-creepy, but actually provides maybe the creepiest match I’ve ever gotten.

AND thus provides the story of my dating life.

[drops mic]

Melinda

I Have Enough Platonic Friends

I Have Enough Platonic Friends

So this happened today.

I was set to have drinks tonight with a dude from a few years back. He’s popped up now and again. I was actually supposed to meet up with him the day I met the last dude I was dating, but he stood me up. I was pissed, starting dating the last one, and didn’t talk to him again.

But of course now I’m single. So I went for it, Bold Moves, and asked him out. He said yes, lovely, wonderful, we make plans.

Then at 5 pm he texts me this.

I am not interested in forgetting that point. The last exchange we had was relatively in depth about things he was interested in doing, and not just having a martini.

I didn’t respond to him suggesting to forget that point.

For years now, I have stayed friends, sometimes lovers, and drinking buddies with tons of dudes I’ve dated. For the most part, it’s been great. But it’s starting to grate on me.

I see Instagram photos of a dude I dated three times with his new girlfriend at fancy restaurants where he never took me, just a few weeks after he told me I’m the “best he ever had” (duh). I ran into another ex who was on a date at the bar where I work, the same one who a week earlier looked me up and down so hard it made my coworker about spit out her beer. I met up for drinks with one who broke my heart and who was moving out of town, only for him to ask me to come visit him in Michigan.

But never, ever, do these dudes ask me on a proper date.

And it’s my own fault. Because I keep them in my life, mostly for good reasons, but it doesn’t contribute to moving on and trying to find someone and something meaningful. These platonic, now-friends-ex-dudes, hit on me, call me when they’re lonely, and see me as their hot, sexy, cool, ex, but not someone they’re interested in actually dating or being in a relationship with.

And I’m not adding another one.

Instead, tonight, I’m going out with my dude friend who is not an ex boyfriend or anything of the sort. We’re gonna drink whiskey and I’m going to tell him about the aforementioned guy above and I’ll be happy I’m hanging out with a friend who is actually a friend.

-Mel

Flakes are for Corn and Soap

“Yo, what’s up wit these chicks flaking out online?”

Actual line of gchat conversation received this Tuesday morning from a friend.

So being the good dating advice giver that I am, I helped him diagnose the problem of the flaky chicks. I’ve decided to share these thoughts with you. You’re welcome.

1) Get off match.com, take that $30 a month, and buy a girl from Tinder a few drinks. My friend, being recently single, hasn’t joined the 2014, cough, or 2009, online dating scene. Stop paying for online dating people, really. Especially here in Chicago. Because if you’re on match.com, you’re also on OkCupid (free), Tinder (free), Hinge (free), Plenty of Fish (free but horrid), (even FetLife (free) if that’s your thing) and the copious amounts of other free services made for meeting people to bang date within minutes of the Magnificent Mile.

This city is small, with not that many single people in your age/height/body type/miles range who are willing to date online. Instead, take that money and god forbid, pay for a drink or two. You don’t have to take her to the Aviary, but stop spending your time emailing and meet for drinks or coffee in person. She’ll be much more impressed with your ability to discuss your man crush on Derrick Rose rather than read your boring emails about what your dog did today.

2) Which brings me to my next point (which I have reiterated many times), stop spending six years crafting witty emails before you meet in person. This is exactly why girls be flaking. Sh*t or get off the pot, as they say. I’ve made the mistake of dreaming about my future wedding with some dude I was emailing/texting/Tinder messaging with only to meet him in person and realize I’d have more fun watching my mother check her email. You’ll spend your relationship in person, mostly, rather than communicating in writing, so just go ahead and meet in person and get used to it.

My friend explained he needs five messages before setting up a date. FIVE?! And you’re asking me why women are flaking!? He also explained he needs a screening process. In modern dating times, swiping right is the only screening process there is anymore. Get over it. If a girl is crazy, she’ll be crazy after 1 email or 5. Just get it over with.

3) If you don’t have lots of time, arrange to meet the person before another commitment. Or lie, I don’t care. If you’re worried about the time it takes to screen the ladies or gents in person, arrange a happy hour date and explain you have to volunteer at the dog shelter at 7:30 (or you have a date with a frozen pizza, your couch, and your cat), so you only can stay for a drink or two. You know when there is chemistry and when there isn’t. Remember, time, place, date, is all we need.

Give two options for a time to meet, “Does Tuesday or Wednesday at 5:30 work for you? If not, when are you free?” BOOM. Stop it with the, “Maybe next week sometime when I’m not so busy” because we’ll get ADD and move on to the next cute dude sending us messages.

If you follow all these rules and a person is still flaky, dump them and move on to the next on your feed. If they’re not actually wanting to use online dating applications, for ya know, dating, then the person isn’t worth the trouble or your time crafting all those witty emails anyway.

<3,

Melinda

Jump, What’s the Worst That Can Happen?

I read this piece a few weeks back at the fantastic show Serving the Sentence at Tow Bar in Roger’s Park. Check it out every second Sunday at 7 pm.

Jump, what’s the worst thing that can happen? After six years of being single, this is what I tell myself after confessing to an old coworker my copious crushing for him.

Even his name is perfect. Jack Summers**. He sounds like a made up character on Dawson’s Creek. And he has this smile. I can’t even pretend it doesn’t make me want to fall out of my shit. He owns his own condo. Getting his MBA. Has a good job. Works a 2nd one at Jcrew for the discount. He looks like he belongs in that damned catalogue with the skinny models and the Labrador retrievers, tall, dark, handsome and stylish in that way that looks like he isn’t trying too hard.

Damn. I haven’t seen or talked to him in months. It’s a week after my break up with the latest, right before the new year. I am unemployed, depressed, and have spent the last few days on an ambien high sleeping in my flannel scottie dog sheets, eating leftover Christmas fudge, and not showering. I’ve spent my time watching re-runs of The Wire, again, and eating random combinations of whatever I have in my sparse fridge or ordering large pizzas which I consume within a day. Shockingly, since unemployment and this break up, I’ve gained 15 lbs.

And bam! An email from Jack. Out of the goddamned blue. He gives me his number. Tells me to get back to him. SAY WHAT?! I lose my cool and text him back answering his question immediately.

We catch up a bit, and what the hell right?, I jump and confess my long time crush on him. Has god sent me him right now (nevermind I don’t usually believe in god)? Just a week after I dumped the last loser? The timing is honestly heavenly. We send each other photos, since I went redhead now, and because I just wanted to see his face. OMG. I forgot how cute he is. AND HE JUST SENT ME HIS PICTURE.

A few days later I’m still mourning and dealing with the loss of the last ex, and have let Jack’s face disappear from my daydreams. I’m on the delayed train back to Chicago about 5 inches into a 10 inch snowstorm, when my text message sound goes off. “What r u up to?”

OMG my heart flutters like I’m 13 and the boy at school is sort of paying attention to me. Dude is seriously hotter than Idris Elba.

I try to make conversation. I’m clearly the wittier of the two of us, which will work great as I continue to pursue my writing career and he does whatever dudes with MBAs do.

OMG my double chin! OMG my lack of employment! I totally had both of these issues under control when I last saw him. I was at the pinnacle of having my shit together, well, not really, but at the surface I was. Plus we were working at Jcrew together where the dress code made me wear so many accessories and cute shoes and all that shit so he probably gets an idea I like actually care about my appearance, when for the last 3 months I have solely worn leggings as pants.

“If it wasn’t horrible weather, I’d tell you to come into the city,” I say, all slyly.

“Ditto,” he answers. His text messages aren’t long. But all that meaning simply the word, “ditto”, I think to myself.

“Snow check?” I ask. Man I AM SO witty.

“Ha,” he replies. OMG He thinks I am FUNNY. I AM SO FUNNY, GUYS.

“Fo sho,” he says.

Ok, Jack Summers, can you tell me when that ‘fo sho’ is gonna be? Because I’m going to need to dye my roots and buy some fresh Spanx for that day.

OMG our biracial children are so going to be fucking Jcrew models. I can feel it. I’m imaging our photo shoots with Jenna Lyons and our beautiful offspring, and he asks for my email address.

OMG WHAT WILL HE SEND ME!? Oh my god. He is so thoughtful. Sent me an article on job interviewing, as he knows I have one this week. I AM IN LOVE.

Mr. Summers, YOU WILL BE MY FUTURE HUSBAND. Let’s do this.

If you are my husband, I will stop eating Express Grill cheeseburgers at 3 am. I’ll shave my legs regularly. I’ll work out. I’ll finally read War and Peace. I’ll wash all the dishes in my sink. I’ll start sleeping 8 hours a night.

Who am I kidding? I promise, I’ll try.

A few weeks later we go on our first date. He lives in the suburbs, which you know he’s cute if I’m willing to date a dude in the ‘burbs. We meet halfway at a Glenview bar to have a few drinks. I beat him there and sit at the bar, attempting to play it cool. He walks in a few minutes later, wearing a camel overcoat and plaid scarf over a Ludlow suit and Ray Bans black rimmed glasses. We hug hello. I about die.

So here I am jumping. What is the worst that can happen?

Hmm, let me see. Humiliation, heartbreak, crying rivers after he breaks my heart.

Here’s a few examples of the worst things that happened:

“I’m a Christian,” he says, emphasized at least 3 times.

“I am divorced. Just a year ago.”

“We didn’t have sex until we got married.”

“I don’t have any interest in moving back to the city.”

The man I’m infatuated with is a celibate, suburban Christian divorcee.

This may be the worst that can happen.

But what is the best?

That question and possibility is what keeps me going. Maybe this man will or won’t be the love of my life, maybe I’ll convince him to move to the city, maybe I can put off sex for a few months.

I have to keep jumping, right? Because whatever it is that’s the best possibility will always trump what is the worst.

-Melinda

**not his name

Where You Been, Girl?

Hey Melinda, where you been?

Good question. I know you’ve all missed me.

Well the short answer is I started a new job, work a 2nd and third job, been hella sick for like a month, and I’m in love.

Yep, you read correctly. I’m in love. In a relationship, like Facebook official and all that shit. Yep, it’s a true story. So writing about my dating life hasn’t been all that exciting.

But damn it’s fucking hard. We got back together. So I’m learning what’s it’s like to not be solo anymore, again.

Melinda, will you still write for this blog since you got that boyfriend?

Probably. I’ve never written this blog solely for other people. If other people read it, that’s pretty great. I still got things to say. Also, I’m going to be writing for the blog on The Tequila Tales, which is an amazing live show about love and lust, and now a blog too. I’m going to cover my transition to being in a relationship and how that all works. Because, like I said, it’s fucking hard. So Solo in the 2nd City still will be here.

And because this is my blog, I’m giving myself a shameless plug—

I’m coming back from my storytelling hibernation and reading a story tonight at Comedy Sandwich (I’m the sandwich, though my story is funny, I promise) and on Tuesday at The Seven Deadly Sins at Cafe Mustache. Come out!

<3

Melinda