Hey party people! Don't forget about two especially exciting events this weekend: Nerdacon (Friday and Saturday) and the Ultimate Guys Expo (Saturday and Sunday).
Here's the rest of your lineup:
FRIDAY
• Peggy Jenkins and the Bizness, 9 p.m. The Loft, $5. 706-596-8141.
• Dueling pianos, 10 p.m. The Vault, $5. 706-653-8277.
• Pipers Down, 9 p.m. Flip Flops, $5.
• Boneheadz, 10 p.m. Scruffy Murphy’s, $5. 706-322-3460.
• Sum Ever After, 8 p.m. Daileys, $5. 706-320-3353.
• David McBride and the Razin Kane Band, 9 p.m. Del Ranch Bar & Grill, $5. 334-297-9177.
• Thousand Watt Halo (farewell show), Down From Zero, 10 p.m. SoHo Bar & Grill, $5. 706-568-3316.
• The Last Rodeo Band, 9 p.m. VFW Post 665 (Victory Drive), $5. 706-687-6656.
• Big Woody and the Splinters, 9 p.m. Belloo’s, $5. 706-494-1584.
SATURDAY
• Ben Deignan, 9 p.m. The Loft, $5. 706-596-8141.
• Big Woody and the Splinters, 9 p.m. Belloo’s, $5. 706-494-1584.
• Dueling pianos, 10 p.m. The Vault, $5. 706-653-8277.
• David McBride and the Razin Kane Band, 9 p.m. Del Ranch Bar & Grill, $5. 334-297-9177.
• Boneheadz, 10 p.m. Scruffy Murphy’s, $5. 706-322-3460.
• Hold Cell, 10 p.m. SoHo Bar & Grill, $5. 706-568-3316.
• The Last Rodeo Band, 9 p.m. VFW Post 665 (Victory Drive), $5. 706-687-6656.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Don't call me honey
I got a call alerting me to a severe, potentially libelous error in my most recent column:
"You never call me 'honey.'"
My boyfriend was referring to one of my written descriptions of our relationship, and he was right.
When I write about the words we exchange, I'm more likely to preface our sentences with words like "honey" and "sweetie."
On paper, the words look cute. But I rarely use them in real life. I consider "honey" a gateway drug that eventually makes you call your significant other "snuggles" or "baby cakes."
Less than 24 hours after we had our conversation, I found this Glamour blog post -- dedicated to one writer's hatred of "honey" and its saccharine counterparts.
There's nothing dramatically wrong with the words. They just always sound so artificial, as if they're designed to get outsiders' validation rather than bolster a couple's own romantic feelings for each other.
So I dropped off a sandwich at my boyfriend's desk today, fully aware that when it comes to terms of endearment, we'll likely never move beyond "boo."
He ate the sandwich, and expressed his gratitude with a two-word note on my desk:
"Thanks, honey!"
"You never call me 'honey.'"
My boyfriend was referring to one of my written descriptions of our relationship, and he was right.
When I write about the words we exchange, I'm more likely to preface our sentences with words like "honey" and "sweetie."
On paper, the words look cute. But I rarely use them in real life. I consider "honey" a gateway drug that eventually makes you call your significant other "snuggles" or "baby cakes."
Less than 24 hours after we had our conversation, I found this Glamour blog post -- dedicated to one writer's hatred of "honey" and its saccharine counterparts.
There's nothing dramatically wrong with the words. They just always sound so artificial, as if they're designed to get outsiders' validation rather than bolster a couple's own romantic feelings for each other.
So I dropped off a sandwich at my boyfriend's desk today, fully aware that when it comes to terms of endearment, we'll likely never move beyond "boo."
He ate the sandwich, and expressed his gratitude with a two-word note on my desk:
"Thanks, honey!"
The SEC football date
The Wall Street Journal has an interesting article about the tradition of fraternity guys wearing ties and taking sundress-clad dates to Southeastern Conference football games.
The piece, which focuses heavily on Auburn University, outlines the etiquette for the Southern football date. It also notes that female companionship is key to fraternities maintaining their coveted stadium seats.
An excerpt:
The piece, which focuses heavily on Auburn University, outlines the etiquette for the Southern football date. It also notes that female companionship is key to fraternities maintaining their coveted stadium seats.
An excerpt:
According to several sophomore members of Auburn's Sigma Nu chapter, the best quality to look for in a date is that she makes a good "babysitter" (read: she will take care of you if you get too drunk). Others say the best dates won't mind doubling as bourbon-transportation vehicles. (Taping a flask to a date's leg is, by many accounts, another age-old Southern football tradition.)
The football date tradition was one of the hardest things for me to understand upon moving to the South.
My college football team played its games in a high school stadium, and we wore sweatshirts and heavy jackets during much of the season.
Do I feel like I missed out? Kind of, especially when I read the aforementioned passage about taping a flask to a date's leg.
Give me your tips for football date etiquette.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Male midlife crisis
A few days ago, I uttered the line again:
"He might be a nice person, but that doesn't necessarily mean he's good at relationships."
At that moment, I realized the sentence had become a mantra of sorts in recent years -- not only as I consoled female friends post-breakup, but also as I examined my own romantic pairings.
And the strange thing is, in a majority of cases, it wasn't a cliche. In my (admittedly biased) mind, the line seemed like the truth.
Which is why I surprisingly can't be too critical of this buzzed-about Marie Claire article, headlined "The new male midlife crisis."
It contends today's male 20- and 30-somethings are reluctant to settle down and are "turned off by the sweaty maneuvering of the type A girl, the Tracy Flickishness in how she knows what she wants and goes after it without apology."
Try this description on for size:
These guys are part of a cause-less generation. They didn't grow up burning their draft cards or fighting the Nazis. They weren't part of the Civil Rights Movement, the Women's Movement, or any other movement. They were spoiled as kids and now they want to spoil themselves as adults. The old cliché was that a man would wake up one morning and realize that he wanted his youth back. The new version is that he never reached adulthood in the first place.
Not everyone buys it.
Where do you stand?
"He might be a nice person, but that doesn't necessarily mean he's good at relationships."
At that moment, I realized the sentence had become a mantra of sorts in recent years -- not only as I consoled female friends post-breakup, but also as I examined my own romantic pairings.
And the strange thing is, in a majority of cases, it wasn't a cliche. In my (admittedly biased) mind, the line seemed like the truth.
Which is why I surprisingly can't be too critical of this buzzed-about Marie Claire article, headlined "The new male midlife crisis."
It contends today's male 20- and 30-somethings are reluctant to settle down and are "turned off by the sweaty maneuvering of the type A girl, the Tracy Flickishness in how she knows what she wants and goes after it without apology."
Try this description on for size:
These guys are part of a cause-less generation. They didn't grow up burning their draft cards or fighting the Nazis. They weren't part of the Civil Rights Movement, the Women's Movement, or any other movement. They were spoiled as kids and now they want to spoil themselves as adults. The old cliché was that a man would wake up one morning and realize that he wanted his youth back. The new version is that he never reached adulthood in the first place.
Not everyone buys it.
Where do you stand?
Reebok EasyTone shoes
I'll put on my figure-toning shoes and walk to the nearest buffet.
That mentality is one of the biggest potential drawbacks surrounding the newest footwear obsession, Reebok EasyTone shoes.
The shoes promise to tone your legs and butt while you walk, thanks to a "slight instabililty" that "forces your muscles to work a little harder."
It's not the first time we've seen something like this -- Sketchers offers a similar model -- but EasyTone has attracted lots of attention with its sex-driven, quasi-controversial ad campaign.
I'm incredibly intrigued by the shoes, which cost about $100. Nonetheless, I can't help worrying they'll lead to an increase in this line: "I don't have to work out today, because I wore my special shoes."
Which is kind of scary, given the conclusion reached on exercise shoes in a recent Wall Street Journal article: "Short-term data show wearing the shoes makes some muscles work harder, but so far there's no rigorous evidence that they speed weight loss."
Even if these shoes really tone muscles, they can't be used as a substitute for exercise since they seem to only work a very concentrated part of your body.
So if mass public interest continues to follow EasyTone, we might end up with a country of women with really toned legs, but giant arms and guts.
Totally hot.
That mentality is one of the biggest potential drawbacks surrounding the newest footwear obsession, Reebok EasyTone shoes.
The shoes promise to tone your legs and butt while you walk, thanks to a "slight instabililty" that "forces your muscles to work a little harder."
It's not the first time we've seen something like this -- Sketchers offers a similar model -- but EasyTone has attracted lots of attention with its sex-driven, quasi-controversial ad campaign.
I'm incredibly intrigued by the shoes, which cost about $100. Nonetheless, I can't help worrying they'll lead to an increase in this line: "I don't have to work out today, because I wore my special shoes."
Which is kind of scary, given the conclusion reached on exercise shoes in a recent Wall Street Journal article: "Short-term data show wearing the shoes makes some muscles work harder, but so far there's no rigorous evidence that they speed weight loss."
Even if these shoes really tone muscles, they can't be used as a substitute for exercise since they seem to only work a very concentrated part of your body.
So if mass public interest continues to follow EasyTone, we might end up with a country of women with really toned legs, but giant arms and guts.
Totally hot.
What's going on tonight?
Hey party people! There's a Nocturnal Thursday promotion at the Whiskey River Live Bar inside the new Club 1244. Expect alternative, underground and indie rock music. Action starts at 9 p.m. No cover. The club is at 1244 Broadway in Columbus.
Also, don't forget that Belloo's (900 Front Ave.) has Ladies Night with $5 martinis.
Here's the rest of your lineup:
• Gary Parmer, 9 p.m. Belloo’s, free. 706-494-1584.
• Connor Christian, 10 p.m. SoHo Bar & Grill, free. 706-568-3316.
• Open mike, 8 p.m. Fountain City Coffee, free. 706-494-6659.
Also, don't forget that Belloo's (900 Front Ave.) has Ladies Night with $5 martinis.
Here's the rest of your lineup:
• Gary Parmer, 9 p.m. Belloo’s, free. 706-494-1584.
• Connor Christian, 10 p.m. SoHo Bar & Grill, free. 706-568-3316.
• Open mike, 8 p.m. Fountain City Coffee, free. 706-494-6659.
Cohabitation
Is it possible to move out of a significant other's house without breaking up?
Lemondrop has an interesting essay by a woman who moved in with her boyfriend -- and then moved out.
Her reason? When they lived together, their relationship turned turned into a marriage. Neither of them wanted that. An excerpt:
I wasn't unhappy. Just instead of a sexy courtship where I'd jump out of bed to brush my teeth in the morning, it turned into a comfortable marriage where we'd discuss our finances over dinner, then have a glass of wine with a DVD. We talked about our cat a lot. We were married in every sense but legally.
And I don't want to be married. Because I love my boyfriend, but I still have a lot of partying to do.
The decision to stop living together was mutual. From the essay, it seems like the couple is still together.
But I think that's the exception, rather than the rule. I could never leave a failed living setup and keep the relationship going.
Could you?
Lemondrop has an interesting essay by a woman who moved in with her boyfriend -- and then moved out.
Her reason? When they lived together, their relationship turned turned into a marriage. Neither of them wanted that. An excerpt:
I wasn't unhappy. Just instead of a sexy courtship where I'd jump out of bed to brush my teeth in the morning, it turned into a comfortable marriage where we'd discuss our finances over dinner, then have a glass of wine with a DVD. We talked about our cat a lot. We were married in every sense but legally.
And I don't want to be married. Because I love my boyfriend, but I still have a lot of partying to do.
The decision to stop living together was mutual. From the essay, it seems like the couple is still together.
But I think that's the exception, rather than the rule. I could never leave a failed living setup and keep the relationship going.
Could you?
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