Today is mother’s day and as I browse through all my old memory cards trying to find a photo of little baby egrets to send to my mom, I stumbled across some friends’ weddings I had photographed over the years.
Right there, filed between photos of the time I met Senator Elizabeth Warren in the bathroom and nude artistic black and white photos for a soft porn calendar I contributed to, was all the visual proof I needed to remind myself I have and continue to fail miserably at relationships.
In the ‘90s comedy, As Good As It Gets, Jack Nicholson plays a maladjusted and reclusive writer who develops a fondness for a waitress in a cafe under his apartment. At one point in the film, he tells her, “Sometimes it’s not that you have it so bad; It’s just that other people seem to have it so good.” That line is my entire life.
It does seem that I am content for the most part until the universe wants to rub my nose in just how blissfully happy everyone else’s relationships seem to be by delivering a traumatic breakup the day before I’m scheduled to photograph someone else’s beautiful wedding. Or having my boyfriend at the time move in with the girl I thought was my best friend the day after we broke up, which was also the day before I graduated from college.
I mean, nothing beats working as a wedding photographer for your friends and seeing them on what might be the very happiest day of their life while you field calls from police officers on the down low because you just had to file a restraining order against your ex who stole your memory cards from your camera, collected personal information on your entire family, and then threw your vehicle into park while you were driving and punched you in the jaw because he was drunk at 8 a.m. I mean, he’s lucky he punches like a little bitch and that you didn’t drag him into the middle of the street and beat his ass because you were in a rush to get to work that day and you still want to be able to get into Canada without an assault charge on your record. AmIrite?
Anyway, moving along, I’m just glad I’ve finally moved on to just dating regular jerks again and not physically abusive man babies. I mean, on the plus side, I’m down at least one pants size since my on-and-off boyfriend have broken up three times over the past month. #Winning!
Now, let’s answer some of your questions:
I wear really tiny panties and sometimes I forget to pull them up. I walked around today in my leggings and finally noticed a lump on the side of my thigh and realized when I pulled them up I forgot to pull up my panties underneath them.
Why can’t leggings just come with the panty part built in?
Love, Sweet Pecan
Dear S. Pecan,
That’s a great idea. In fact, I wish they would just make disposable pants so you never have to do laundry. But I think the answer to your immediate dilemma is to go commando. Even my therapist agrees! Hope that helps!
I can’t even. Are they kidding me with this right now? What the what? Pffft I’m just so. so. Argggg. What now?
My answer is go commando. Hope that helps!
I am so upset! When my friends all get together they all dish about all the things that are wrong in their life and I never have anything to say! My Billionaire Daddy says it is because their parents are losers, am I perfect in every way? Or is it just my wallet is so overflowing that I’m happy with my tax havens trips and moving daddy’s money offshore? Why can’t I have some juicy horror about my life to dish about? We have to go to Mar-a-lago for New Year’s and normally I would mind all the old guys grabbing my butt, but my implants made most of my butt numb so I don’t even notice anymore.
Help, I want to sound more interesting to my girlfriends!
-I.B. Knotright-Withitingham, IV
This was a tough one so I ran it by my advice review board. Here’s what they said: “Start picking fights with daddy and you’ll be super interesting! And slap the old men grabbing your ass and see what happens! At least to some of us would find you interesting. Don’t know about your friends. But mine will come listen to you.”
Hope that helps! – Terror
I have trust issues from being cheated on by my ex wife and the first girlfriend I had after my divorce. I’m dating a new girl now who I’m nuts about and in the beginning she said it was a concern of hers that I might have trust issues because I’ve been cheated on. I don’t want to get my heart broken again but if I don’t try to find a partner I’m worried I’ll be alone forever. Maybe I should stop being so negative?
Well if that isn’t some Grade A victim blaming bullshit right there. First, I’m sorry that happened to you. Second, I hope you will learn to trust the little voice in your gut when it tells you something’s not quite right. When I look back through all my shitty relationships, there were always warning signs. You can try to overlook them at first, you can say they’re not red flags, they’re pink flags, but eventually the flags are everywhere and then you wonder how the f—k you didn’t see it coming.
Also, that shit about being alone forever? That’s crap. My grandma was married 4 times and continued to date until she was 90. Granted she was a Canadian fur model who was used to getting what she wanted because she was beautiful but I have to admit it was pretty entertaining to watch her ignore her 84-year-old boyfriend’s phone calls for weeks after he told her he “wasn’t ready for a relationship” until he came back begging and crying with flowers. Yes, my Grandma was one smart bitch. I always kind of admired her nearly militaristic strategies when it came to dating. But I’m too much of a softie to be like her. Also, in the end she outlived them all and died alone anyway. Shortly before she passed away, she told me she wished she hadn’t wasted so much time on men.
Hope that helps! – Terror