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You’re Breaking Up : The Valentine’s Day Playlist

14 Feb

Fun Fact: Crying while masturbating increases tenfold today!

So it’s Valentine’s Day, the day of love, the day every single girl in the world buys herself a box of Russell Stover and cries about how lonely and fat she is and how she can’t even afford good chocolate. Oh, you’re in a happy, successful, functioning, monogymous relationship? Then get the fuck off the Internet and go suck face with your significant other. Basically, V Day sucks for anyone who is single, generally depressed and lonely, or — the worst of the worst — riding the torrential tsunami waves of a break up.* That really fucking sucks, even for me, and I’m in France. Yeah, FRANCE. So for those of you who, this Valentine’s Day, are giving up on love, don’t even know what love is, will be spending Feb. 14th making Spiderman memes, or are simply still mourning the loss of your beloved Keg, here’s a playlist to get you through it.**

First you need songs about love so you can cry about how perfect you used to think your life was. Anything by Ingrid Michaelson will probably suffice. “Can’t Help Falling in Love” and “You and I” are great tear-jerkers. “Sparks” by Coldplay is another good option, especially if you’re kinda, sorta the reason things didn’t work out and now you want to cry about it.

This is the one and only time it is healthy to play “your song.” No, not Taylor Swift’s “Our Song,” unless that actually is you and your asshole ex-wafflefuck’s “song.” Listen to it as many times as it takes you to get to the bottom of a gallon of Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie. (If it was a really bad break up, go for the Dave Matthews Band Magic Brownies flavor because your life is already a giant pile of black raspberry covered shit.) Once you’re done listening to the song, forget it exists.

Next, throw in some desperate, heart-breaking ballads that perfectly describe your break up. Not only can you sing/cry along, but someone FINALLY understands exactly what it feels like to have your guts ripped out violently. Literally any song by Adele works. “Rolling in the Deep,” “Someone Like You,” “Don’t You Remember,” “First Love.” I could go on.

So now you’re crying because your life sucks and Adele is such a beautiful vocalist and you’re so proud of her for winning six Grammies. At this point, I would suggest pumping the breaks with a song like “Lover I Don’t Have to Love” by Bright Eyes, which will not only melt your heart by means of Conor Oberst’s delicious voice, but will make you realize that there are such things as one night stands (yes, even at NU) and alcohol-induced states beyond any level of consciousness that will numb the pain of a break up/failed midterm/insert your sad life story here.

Now that you see hope at the end of the Tunnel of Love and Lost Dreams, look there! I spy a song to crush any morsel of respect you ever had for your ex-lover. I suggest “Foundations” or “Dickhead” by Kate Nash. Every time I hear her repeat “what you being a dickhead for?” I can’t help wondering to myself “why is he being such a dickhead?” Plus, break ups sound way better when narrated in a British accent.

Don't worry, this playlist is built to last.

At this point, the article will become a Choose Your Own Adventure. So, choose your own goddamn adventure.

CHOICE ONE
You feel a little down about the break up still. You find yourself chain smoking American Spirits and posting Interpol lyrics on your Tumblr.

“Skinny Love” Bon Iver.

CHOICE TWO
You could not be more pissed about that queef bagel leaving you for that dick sucking muffin.

“Black Tongue” The Yeah Yeah Yeahs.

CHOICE THREE
You obsessively check his/her Facebook every 30 seconds to see if they’ve changed their relationship status/ has new pictures that display touching of the opposite sex/ posted a new meme. No one will ever understand you and your compulsive torment save for lesbian sisters.

“The Con” Tegan and Sara.

CHOICE FOUR
You’re ready to give up on love and good music altogether.

“Say Goodbye” Ashlee Simpson.

You are FINALLY ready to move on from that motherfucker. Good for you. Now you’re feeling on top of the world (or maybe on top of that girl from MENU whose name escapes you at the moment) and you need a theme song. You need Heartless Bastards. “Hold Your Head High” has gotten me through some tough shit : my current break up, losing my favorite hamster (RIP Oreo), and even my first failed midterm (seriously, Intro to Sociology?). Listen to this song. Memorize this song. Sing it to the Norbucks barista. Sing it to your little. Sing it to that girl from MENU. Run on that BLOM treadmill screaming this song. Sing it during lecture in Fisk 217. OK, you get it.

Happy Valentine’s Day, y’all!

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*Hey Ross Packingham, call me.
**At any time during this playlist, it is not only appropriate but obligatory to insert “The One That Got Away” by Katy Perry, as long as you sufficiently honor the lyrics of the song by drunkenly screaming them out of your windows. (How did she not get any recognition but Skrillex won two Grammies? Really people, Skrillex?)

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Love a Random State: Ohio

24 Jan

I may be a tad bit biased, but Ohio is a pretty badass state. We fuck up pretty much every Presidential Election. We can’t make decisions on anything from street cars to abortion. We are some waffling motherfuckers, and I’m not talking about McGriddles. Besides being a political asshole, here are some other reasons you should bow down and worship my state of conception/birth/childhood.

The beautiful metropolis of Cleveland

1. Ohio is the 7th largest state by population.
Cincinnati is the 61st largest city in the nation by population.* Being mediocrely medium-sized takes all the pressure off being big. We may not have the hustle and bustle of New York or the flotsam and jetsam of Chicago, but we sure do have a lot of wide open spaces and corn. This makes for some great middle school field trips, like visiting an Amish farm and learning how to properly milk a cow or taking a spin on a tea-cup-death-trap-vomit-inducing ride while eating a stick of deep-fried butter at the local carnival.

2. Subpar athletics.
I may not be an expert when it comes to sports. I didn’t vehemently protest the NBA lockout, I do not worship Tebow born from the Virgin Mother, nor do I have any vague inkling as to what Royal Shrovetide Football is really all about. However, I do know one thing: If the Cincinnati Bengals were running in the Republican primaries, they would rank somewhere above Michelle Bachmann and somewhat below Stephen Colbert. They may suck at football and politics, but the Bengals have quite a record off the field. Since 2000, the team has a combined criminal record of 30 arrests, 8 DUIs, and 1 charge of “boating under the influence.”** I’m not really sure how this makes Ohio awesomely badass, but it does.

3. Larger than life Presidents.
We produced President William Howard Taft, the man who couldn’t fit in a normal bathtub. In fact, a bathtub fit for four men was installed in the White House just for him. I bet VP James Sherman had a pretty good time in there, seeing as he was a normal sized man. (That leaves room for three more people, for those of you who are still in Math 110).

O-hi-OH!!!!

4. Ohio is beautiful.
OK, maybe just Halle Berry is. Halle Berry was Miss Ohio 1986. At 19, Halle managed to lock down a state title and first runner-up for the Miss USA pageant. Pretty badass, Ms. Berry.

5. Badass motherfuckers in office.
Jerry Springer, host of The Jerry Springer Show, served on Cincinnati’s city council for three years, before resigning when Jerry’s favorite hang-out was revealed: a Kentucky “massage parlor.”*** But it only gets better: he paid his “masseuse” with a city check. It doesn’t get much classier than that. He was then elected the mayor of Cincinnati from 1977-1978. We obviously know how to choose effective leaders.

6. In Ohio, it is illegal to get a fish drunk.****
Need I say more?

7. Where art thou, Ohio?
There actually aren’t many NU students from Ohio. There should certainly be more Amish, chili-loving, politically frustrated, Midwesterners up in Northwestern’s business. However, this makes for some great feedback. Apparently, Californians have no fucking clue where Ohio is. My roommate thought it was near Iowa and her friend could swear she thought it was south of Illinois. I guess they don’t teach Geography in the Bay Area. As a loyal Ohioan and a college student with half my brain still intact despite raging alcoholism and mind numbing, drug-induced Sporcle competitions, I know exactly where Ohio is: right between New Mexico and Arizona. Right?

8. Home of Skyline Chili.
Although none of you Northside Prep trust-fund babies or LTHS fanboys have heard of Skyline, enlighten yourselves. Cincinnati’s definition of chili: chocolate (yes, chocolate) ground beef soup poured over spaghetti noodles and topped with neon yellow, synthesized, shredded cheddar cheese. Mouth-o-meter: fucking delicious.

9. Hipsterz.
Searching for the inner-sanctum of hipsterism? Look no further. Clifton, a small neighborhood on the outskirts of downtown Cincinnati, is a hub of culture and excitement. 98% of Clifton residents are Democrat, making us some badass, Obama loving hippies. 98% of us also love Indian food. Why? There are 7 locally owned Indian restaurants in Clifton. Step outside my house and take a good whiff of Saag Paneer and Chicken Curry. Yum. You can always find a homeless town troubadour belting out his love life with the aid of his trusty accordion. Besides musicians, we are also home to many other badass personalities, such as the mysterious bag man who, although he appears to be homeless, goes to the grocery store every day and picks up 3 lemons, a loaf of bread, and a bag of kitty litter. Meth lab, anyone? There is also the penguin man who yells at cars going over 25, the local business owners who all seem to be tangled in a Romeo and Juliet-esque love affair, and my personal favorite, the middle school drug dealers who hang out at the shelter in Burnet Woods after school. (Whoops, did I just blow your cover?)

Take a trip back in time

10. We have one of the largest Amish populations in the country.
Amish people are badass. Love the Amish, and eat their chicken; it’s free-range!

Needless to say, Ohio is a badass state. If this article has convinced you to pack up your Illinois life (or wherever the fuck you’re from) and move to Ohio, call my step dad. He’s a realtor.

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*Sporcle. Yeah, I did it. I used Sporcle as a source. Try to censor that, PIPA.
**NKY Sports World
***Massage parlor = brothel
****Twitter

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Where to Find Your NU Love

9 Dec

With any luck, one day you'll make a heinous rock all of your own.

If you’re like me, a socially awkward alcoholic, you haven’t found your NU love yet. This is probably because the venues you most often frequent have three Greek letters in their names and smell vaguely like Four Loko and urine. Haven’t found any keepers while projectile vomming in the Beta Kappa handicap stall? Keep looking, young freshmen. Take my hand on the magical road of dating: from the painful first encounters and sloppy make outs to the time your suitor hangs your bra on your locker after you left it in his car. Oh wait, this isn’t high school anymore.

It’s time to look for some more obscure places to find your future lover and/or tonsil-hockey teammate. Here’s where to start.

1. A Swanky Restaurant
I suggest Bistro Bordeaux on Church St. Nothing can ever go wrong with a good French meal. Now, I know what you’re thinking. Bristol, I need to find a future lover before I can go to a swanky restaurant. Wrong! Go alone, but inform your waiter that someone else is joining you. Wear a red rose. Pray to God that someone mistakes you for their exponentially-cuter-than-you-looked-online blind date. If no one shows up, cry to your waiter about being stood up. Pray to God the waiter feels sympathetic/gives you their number/accompanies you back to your sex lair for the night.

Too forward for you? Work your way in slowly then. (That’s what she said.)

Yes, I'd like an overnight package please.

2. The Post Office
Guaranteed to generate the best pickup lines:
“Wanna be my priority male?” (Punny, right?)
“I’m here to pick up my package.” [Cast eyes down to genitalia]. (Classic.)
“If you liked it then you should’ve put a stamp on it.” (Because Beyoncé is a goddess.)

3. Dark Parking Garages
Ever feel uncomfortable introducing yourself to a girl in a bar? Wait until she’s walking back alone to her car! Explain that you saw her walking in a dark parking garage that may or may not be chock full of rapists or flesh-eating Republicans and decided to walk with her to protect her from said travesties. At first, she’ll probably pepper spray you, SING at you (solar plexus, instep, nose, groin),* or force you to watch a video of Michelle Bachmann eating a corn dog. But as soon as she realizes you’re just a creepy motherfucker with good intentions, she might just give you the seven-digit password to her pants.

Trolling for some bitches

4. Dog Shows
It works, believe me. It’s like a Cincinnati Cyclones game on $1 beer Wednesday nights, but with wine and trust-fund dog owners on Sundays at high tea.

Perhaps just as important as the places you should go, are the places you should NOT go.

1. University Place or Ridge Avenue
Unless you want to fall in love with a punk in a hoodie who steals your smartphone.

2. The Showers at SPAC
Unless you’re into watching/performing/assisting in self-gratification. Then balls-to-the-walls, young harlots!

3. The Sauna at SPAC
You are not into naked old Jewish women who look like sweaty beached whales. So don’t go in the sauna for love. In fact, don’t go into the sauna at all.

4. Find your NU love/ Flirting for Nerds
I attended both the speed dating event “Find your NU Love” and the seminar “Flirting for Nerds,” more out of irony than desperation. I did not find my NU love, nor did I learn how to flirt anymore heinously than I already do. So unless you want to wince every few minutes when the girl knitting a pair of Eskimo slippers snorts loudly, avoid NU dating events.

You know where to go. Now go and get ‘em, you sexually frustrated bastards.

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*Miss Congeniality

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