Category Archives: Bachelor

Items You Can (and Should) Steal From Your Girlfriend

After living in LA plenty of years, I never thought I’d be into the type of guy that spends a lot of time on his appearance. I guess I never really thought about it, but men care just as much, if not more, than women about how they look. This is fact! I know this because I see my brother checking himself out every time he catches his reflection. (Sorry Nick!)

That being said, I was used to the guys from the south who, for the most part, easily pick out an outfit of jeans and some type of polo or t-shirt, sneakers or boots, and call it a day. They don’t moisturize. Grooming consists of a haircut, a clean shave, and deodorant. And I loved that! I should be the one taking the most time to get ready, not you.

But approaching 5 years in Los Angeles, you get exposed to a variety of men — whether you want to or not. There are those great southern gents who dress and groom exactly as I have listed above. Then there are the men of questionable sexuality. (“Is he gay?” is something I frequently have to ask. And as it turns out, I’m most attracted to gay men. Figures.) They groom themselves impeccably, they care about their skin, they care about how their hair looks; they aren’t into last-season anything. Most of them are total asshats.

And then there are the guys with their own style: the guys that are most attractive. They look effortless, but put in some thought into their outfit. They have gotten a pedicure at some point in their life. But they aren’t trying to keep up with everyone else. They wear what they like, and they look damn good doing so. (Whether it be preppy, grungy, rock-influenced, hipster, corporate, and so on.)

That being said, I don’t really care what category you fit into. Just do you. But I do want you to take care of yourself. And even if you don’t want to run to Kiehl’s and by yourself a decent face wash, there are a few items you can sneak from your girlfriend (boyfriend, wife, fiancé, husband, whatever) to get yourself looking and feeling good. While some of you might think this is weird and you would never borrow any of these things, let me remind you that it’s only weird if it doesn’t work. And these all work. (Thanks Bud Light!)

Dry Shampoo

1. Dry Shampoo

If you have great hair, I love you. The longer, the better. But having a brother with a mop that rivals One Direction’s quiffs (and I say that as a compliment), I have seen the effort that goes into making that bedhead look perfectly imperfect. It requires wetting your hair every other day (when you are not showering) and roughing it up with your hands. That seems like a ton of unnecessary effort, so let me do you a solid by suggesting dry shampoo. Women have been using this for years to add texture and absorb unwanted oil, in order to prolong a blowout that probably cost around $85 ($40 if she’s hitting up Drybar).

I used a little bit of Oribe’s Dry Texturizing Spray on Nick’s hair the other day and he thought I was nothing short of a genius. “What is that? It smells good.” Instead of having to lean over into the sink or shower to wet his hair, it gave him instant lift and eliminated the matted look — and he didn’t even have to wet his hair.

Oribe’s is nice because it doesn’t look too feminine and doesn’t smell too feminine either. However, any dry shampoo your lady has in her bathroom will do the trick. There are options for men, like Axe’s Defying Dust. Alternatively, if you want something with zero smell, shake a tiny bit of baby powder on your scalp and comb through with a brush. (Don’t go overboard though, or it will look like dandruff.) (Here are a bunch of dry shampoos to choose from.)

Men's Moisturizers

2. Moisturizer

I don’t understand men who don’t use moisturizer. My skin would look like a prune without it. Newsflash: if your skin appears to have a white film on it, it’s because IT’S DRY! Grab your girlfriend’s face moisturizer — she should have plenty — and slather that on, especially after you shave. If it says SPF 30 on it, that’s better, because that will help block UVA/UVB rays and keep you looking young and handsome. Which really, what else could you want in life?

3. Conditioner

I also don’t understand men’s hair washing habits, and I won’t try to. I need both shampoo AND conditioner, and they have to be separate. But this isn’t about washing your hair. It’s about shaving. If you are out of shaving cream, grab your girlfriend’s conditioner and use it to shave your beard. It’s going to leave your skin silky soft and, because it doesn’t lather, will allow you to get a closer shave. I know people go back and forth about lather and how it’s crucial/not crucial, but you can ensure a more even shave without it. Be forewarned though: if the brand of conditioner includes Kérastase, Oribé, Pureology, Bumble and bumble, Alterna, or anything that looks super fancy and not from the drugstore… think twice before using it.

4. TWEEZERS

For the love of all things holy, pluck your unibrow. If your eyebrows are a mess, groom the stray hairs. Invest in a small pair of nail scissors — or better yet, stick with the theme of this post and borrow them from you partner — and trim them a bit. You’re not Bert (as in Bert and Ernie, or, Burt Reynolds would be a great example here as well) so keep them under control. I do not need you to wax them or anything of the sort. Perfectly groomed brows on a man? Chances are, you might be a Dawan Radé. (The term my girlfriend Beezus affectionately calls gay men — actually spelled like Duane Reade, as in the drugstore, but she got fancy with it.) Also, don’t avoid your nose hairs.

5. Blemish Cream

Most guys I’ve been in relationships know a few things about me: don’t expect to leave a bar without me performing a full dance routine (incorporating some of my favorite Britney moves), and I’m OCD about my skin. So whenever I’m staying the night, you can bet my face looks like a speckled egg, with dots of pink calamine from Mario Badescu’s Drying Lotion strategically put on any blemish I may have — or think may be coming up. (Have I mentioned that I’m ridiculously sexy?) I’m sure other women do this as well. So if you deal with ingrown hairs from shaving, or you have a blemish that won’t quit, borrow those acne creams and slather them on the spot ASAP. Sometimes my brother thinks he’s breaking out, but because he’s in a rush to shave, he actually just caused a few ingrown hairs. All you have to do is put any type of benzoyl peroxide/salicylic acid cream on it overnight to draw the hair to the surface. It gets gross from here, but follow me: once it looks like a bona fide blemish, you can use a needle (WITH CAUTION) to pop it, and then can pluck out the hair out. Fin.

Or, you can use it to bring a blemish to the surface so it’s easier to remove. It’s better to extract the sebum that’s clogging the pore than dealing with it for months on end. Also, do yourself a favor and get a facial with extractions every once and while. Nobody has to know. If your girlfriend is a picker, she’ll probably get joy out of picking your face — it’s free and you can do it while watching Sunday football. I don’t know anyone who actually enjoys that though…

Oh, and if you want, here’s the magical Drying Lotion I speak of. Use a cotton swab, dip it in the bottle — all the way to the pink sediment — then pull it out and apply it to your skin. Do not shake the bottle or you won’t get the most out of the medication.

And that’s your official invitation to get sneaky — by borrowing your girlfriend’s products. That should satiate your need to do anything secretive, and it won’t even ruin your relationship! Unless you use up all her La Mer face cream. That’s grounds for a breakup.

Advertisements

He’s baaaaaaaaaack

Sometimes, I feel bad for writing these things because, truthfully, it is not in my nature to be malicious. I mean, I cried for three days straight when I found out Santa Claus “died” (yes, not that he wasn’t real — he died) and I still have trouble with negative verdicts in court cases because I believe most people are inherently good, and constantly scrutinize every piece of evidence before deeming someone guilty or not. Except Casey Anthony and OJ Simpson. They’re kray.

So it somewhat pains me to have to write about this guy again. Truth be told, I think he has a lot of issues upstairs, if you know what I mean, girlfran? Like… abandoment issues. I feel like I’m qualified to say that given he’s pretty much spoonfed me his insane life story.

Which brings me to an off-topic yet somewhat relevant point: why do people feel compelled to tell me these things? At this rate, I’m thinking I could get a confession out of OJ before Oprah could. Really. People seemingly feel comfortable telling me absolutely NUTSO things about themselves, and at times they’re not even nuts — they’ll tell me things I have no business knowing, or confide in me deep, dark secrets or emotions when I barely know them, or they let their true egostistical, arrogant selves out of the box. It truly makes no sense. I’m hoping it will help me in my hosting career at least. But seriously, as my dad has always said, “You’re a bum magnet.” Leave it to me to attract men with more than their fair share of mental issues.

I feel I am qualified to diagnose men’s problems because, well, I dated someone that was bipolar. It wasn’t a great relationship, to put it lightly. I actually hope we can find a way to fix this mental disorder because it’s truly depressing to witness, if not completely exhausting — being on cloud nine one minute to complete and utter devestation the next. I also deal with men on a daily basis, as I mentioned, they seem to text me their issues and expect me to resolve their problems, if not construct a perfectly-worded text to send to the woman they met 24-hours prior. (Yes friends, you thought you were the only person I was helping out? Nope.)

So, guess who’s back? This guy. Read up on him. He was persistent, didn’t get the clue, obviously likes a challenge because there’s no way in hell this plus him will ever happen, and is most definitely girl crazy.

The thing about this guy is I’ve told him, to his face, that if he doesn’t stop being a serial monogomist and doesn’t take some “time of solitude” to find himself and figure out what the hell is his problem, he will ruin every relationship he has from here on out. I thought he understood because he was all, “I’m taking your advice!” Yet the next day he’s informed me he invited an ex-intern over to his family’s house for Thanksgiving. #FailCentralStation

Here’s an email exchange that went down the week before I peaced out for Thanksgiving. Admittedly, I did contact him first, but only because my roomie went to lunch with said intern, who mentioned about going to his house for Thanksgiving. I’m blue, he’s black:

11/18/11, 2:37 PM:
So (the roomie) chatted me up about (redacted intern’s name) today…

2:44 PM:
She might by the one Kirbie J

Note: I have to include that this statement is infuriating given a few days before he stood at my desk to inform me his life was in shambles, thanks to a woman he had an affair with, because she slept with her (now) ex-husband on her birthday. Proceed.

2:54PM:
You are an epic dumbass

2:57PM:
You are in a lovely mood today…

2:58PM:
I’m not just saying this, but you are going to ruin this poor woman’s life. Stop jumping from woman to woman! I actually feel bad for her. Get your shit together.

(He is sprawled out like gigalo, in the atrium/lounge area at this point. I am passing him every so often to run to the kitchen.)

4:52PM:
Your hat is cute KGJ

(“G” fo Godzilla. As in “life ruiner” and/or “terror.”)

4:53 PM:
Are you aware that you are giving me great material for my blog?

(Full disclosure! Can’t sue me now…)

4:54 PM:
Exactly what do I get in return?

4:54 PM:
Complete and utter humiliation…?

4:56 PM:
Hmmm. I was gonna go a different way with that. You enrich my life Kirbie. I actually would like this place a lot less if you weren’t here.

(This is where I partially feel like a biotch and partially am shaking my hands in the air going, “Why God, whyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?” Then I read the first sentence again and realize he’s a may-jah skeezeball.)

4:57 PM:
You’re really just a glutton for punishment, I believe…

5:00 PM:
Did it ever occur to you that you actually like me? Let’s text.

(I kept my personal cell phone off the employee phone list for this purpose exactly.)

5:00 PM:
No.

(Deja vu?)

5:02 PM:
Hahahah!

“No.”

I adore you. You utterly crack me up.

5:12 PM:
I have a song you need to hear.

http://youtu.be/rMqayQ-U74s

5:16 PM:
You’re sweet. What are you doing this weekend?

{End Scene}

It was once said that Capricorns are women with a ton of patience. I never believed it until this email exchange. Do you know what it’s like to deal with men who are delusional? If you’re a woman? Yes. If you’re a not? Probably not — you perpetuate other men’s delusional mindsets. I wish I could get paid every time a guy acts like a pompous, egotistical maniac around me — and doesn’t realize it, but alas I suppose I am being punished for something.

Guys, all kidding aside, I have a few suggestions for you dudes out there:

  • Don’t date if you just got out of a relationship. You aren’t ready, even if you cheated or are mentally checked out long before the breakup. “Do you.” As Drake would say, “Ooh I needed that.” In fact, just listen to Drake’s whole album. It hits a tad too close for comfort and some of you guys need to take a long listen.
  • If you go on a date and you feel it went great, but in your gut you’re getting bad signals from the girl, you should probably be aware of this phrase: she’s just not that into you.
  • Don’t try to be someone you’re not. You don’t need someone to edit everything you say and do to impress a woman. Haven’t you seen Hitch? It doesn’t end well if you’re a puppet, using a puppeteer to commandeer women into loving you.
  • Please find the appropriate balance between being “hard to get” and a “good guy.” Don’t confuse those with “an asshole” and “needy.” It’s exasperating and disappointing.

I guess that’s all I can do and say for now. In the end, I suppose it’s up to you to crash and burn before you learn any lessons…

Know what you don’t want

What’s a blog when you’re only commenting about other people’s lives? Just a tad too gossip-y for my taste. So why not venture into my life.

I was hesitant, but my friends were encouraging: “Why aren’t you writing about this stuff? It’s fun!” And I’ll tell you why: because I’m not trying to be the Taylor Swift of blogging. I’m just not. What? I start off writing about dating in Los Angeles and next I’m busy losing my virginity to John Mayer and acting as the Air Force Beard to various gay men? I don’t think so. But I guess what sets me apart is unlike Taylor Swift, I’m not naming names.

"Plotting my next tell-all sing-a-long..."

Yet. Except doesn’t Taylor Swift (usually) not name names and just insinuates everything so people can piece everything together on their own? Maybe I need to buy a guitar and go to town…

Here goes nothing.

I’m approaching the tender age of 25 and I’m single. Have been for over a year now and I’m officially back in swing of singledom. At this phase in my life, dating is great. I don’t need a guy to call me every day, but if I like him, that’s awesome. I don’t even need a date more than once week, however it is nice go on them if you enjoy the person.

I remember this stage quite fondly. It’s been awhile. Back in 2007-2008, I was living. it. up. with all my best girlfriends and no man in sight, except maybe the occasional mixer date, but even those were few and far between because we’d all rather go as girls than with someone we’d have to coddle (and cuddle?) all night long. And if we did have a date… it was fun, but there were no emotional ties. No worries, no jealously, no nothing.

So now, as I’m starting to date around, I find myself at battle: go on dates with people I’m not attracted to? Or stick to my guns and wait? As my coworker Marina and I were chatting so eloquently today:

“I’m just waiting on Clay Matthews.”

“And I’m just waiting for Jesus to send a good man to LA…”

Luckily, I stuck to my guns and did not divvy out my dating cards to anyone and everyone. Plus, I wasn’t ready to date until just recently. I’ve held off until the stars aligned and it felt ‘right’ (or whatever you want to call it). It was slim pickings for awhile, my friends. I think an important thing that differs from other periods of singlehood in my life is that I distinctly know what I’m not looking for. I might not be able to pinpoint everything I want, but I sure as hell know what I can do without..

This brings me to some shenanery that’s been going on at the office. I’m going to call this guy out. I am fairly sure he’ll read this. Is that awkward? No. He can take it. Any guy can take it. It’s a matter of how you handle it. But also, I’m not terrified of this person, and think he’ll take this with a decent amount of pride, so I’m not too worried about it.

Note: I did not date this man.

Let me start by saying that some of the stuff I’m about to say is all “alleged.” Meaning it’s all their words against his, “they” being the ladies I’m about to mention. The only reason I really know this guy is because he is notorious around the office for hooking up with various women, all of whom I have contact with and/or work with closely. Kind of weird. He claims this is all hearsay, or pulls a, “Well, now that I think about it, did we make out?” to try to keep himself honest. Frankly I don’t buy it and don’t feel like women would just make up random makeouts out of the blue; most women tend to hide makeouts, not make them up out of thin air (unless they’re crazy).

Said guy is not my type. He’s already aware of this. Nice guy, I’m sure he’s a blast to be around, but no, it’s not going to happen. I can openly admit that I do not give men the time of day unless I am seriously interested. I think that’s the best way to be, and I wish more people were like this. Don’t misconstrue my words though — seriously interested doesn’t equate to serious relationship.

For fun he likes to tell me that he’s not interested or whatever (because as you can tell this man plays endless mind games) but the fact is that he was spending a hefty amount of time at my desk, people were noticing, and I wasn’t having it. I politely (sternly?) told him he can’t come up to visit me. End of story.

The ongoing joke (or should I say “a horse that’s been bludgeoned to death”) he always pulls when he walks by is something along the lines of, “Hey, has so-and-so come by?” So-and-so being the chick he “hooked up with.” I only put it in quotes for his sake, just to give him the benefit of the doubt. But really, that sentence should be read without quotes, because I have no doubt he’s hooked up them. He also has nicknamed me “Godzilla.” Yes, he knows how to work the ladies. But he calls me that (apparently) because I am a terror and like to make his life miserable. I do admit I’m a little mischevious, guilty as charged…

The other day I had to send out an office email and he writes back. I would literally just screenshot it, but I’m not about to get into privacy issues, so here’s how it went down. I’m not a complete terror!

Me: {Redacted initial email to office}

——————————————

Him: hey, Did (redacted) come through there recently? 😉

——————————————

That’s not overplayed or anything…

——————————————

you love it!

But seriously.

Did she? 😉

Let’s go to lunch

——————————————

1) No

2) No

3) No

——————————————

LOL Kirbie “Godzilla” Johnson you crack my sh*t up!

——————————————

End scene. Listen, I’m not trying to make this at his expense — who knows what he’s going through — but he needs to learn. Dude, you’re acting like a skeezy salesman. Please pull yourself together. Have some dignity. Stop dating inside the office. Learn some new flirting techniques, find a new herd of women and try them out. It could go swimmingly if you play your cards right, but I don’t see how any woman in the office is to take you seriously, unless she’s an intern… and let’s be honest, you’ve had your fair share of those.

Anyway, I hope I’m not being too harsh. I like to dole out tough love more often than not. But in the dating world, I suppose it’s important to call things out like you see ’em, eh?

The Boogie Man

Ladies, we’ve all heard of him, or worse, met him. Guys, you know who I’m referring to. I’m not talking about the cryptic monster that hides under our bed and in our closet at night – I’m talking about that one guy who, under normal circumstances, is suave, charming and fun to be around… and has a giant booger in his nose.

Is there anything that’s more of a turnoff? Especially on a date? (Please don’t answer that. I fear what responses I may solicit.) As a man, there are certain obligations one has to fulfill: provide for the family, keep their (your) pants zipped, and remove any residue from their (your) nose.

It’s really not that hard to look in the mirror and see if there are any surprises left after you blow, pick, or tickle your snout (and let’s be frank: some men have some grotesque ways of removing waste from their schnoz).  A majority of us ladies seem to grasp the concept, so what gives with the men?

Ladies, imagine locking eyes with a tall, handsome man from across the room, and as luck would have it, he B-lines to your table to chat you up and possibly get your digits. As he approaches, you tilt your head up to flash him a smile, only to shutter in sheer TERROR as you notice the green thing trying to make a run for it out of his nostril.

Yep, it’s a dealbreaker. Perhaps not to be too harsh, we should initiate a three strike rule until they get the hint (or don’t). But if a man wants to get serious with this girl, there better be NADA hanging out of his nose.

I only bring this up because this is a growing epidemic. I have seen more men with nasty crap in their nose than humanly possible. It’s unreal. No, I’m not trying to make people feel insecure around me, but honestly… it’s an issue that needs to be addressed. 

Grooming is going to be a vital part of the dating process. Carry around a pack of Q-tips and a compact for all I care. Because what’s worse: having a boogie for everyone to stare at? Or having the person you’re trying to impress confess that you have a massive piece of gold hanging out? Also, please forgive that I have to use the word “boogie” to describe the offensive matter, but it’s less grotesque than the other words I could use…

As a woman, I don’t want to kiss a guy if I see him doing anything close to picking his nose, let alone see what he should be picking (removing), dangling by a nose-thread. I’m gagging just thinking of it.

I need a man to blow me away with his personality and wit, not what’s hiding in his nose. And when someone refers to my guy as the “boogie man,” I pray to sweet baby Jesus hope they’re referring to his mad dancing skills, not his bedazzled beak.

So guys, take a minute in the morning after your shower to lightly tilt your chin up and inspect the terrority. Make sure nothing is cluttering up the space. In fact, if you feel it necessary, cut those pesky nosehairs. Wipe the blood off your jawline from that nasty razor cut. Then give yourself a wink and admit that you look amazing.