#38 Awards Shows

This past Sunday, single girls around the world set up camp in front of our television sets in anticipation for the celebrity-saturated night that is the Academy Awards.  And much like other single girls, I was personally invited to an "Oscar viewing party" at a girlfriend's house.  Suggested dress code?  Fat pants.  (I, of course, arrived in leggings.)

The Academy Awards have often been considered "the Superbowl for women."  If such is the case, the "post-season" also includes the Grammy Awards, Golden Globe Awards, Screen Actors Guild Awards and Independent Spirit Awards.

Much like the Superbowl, a viewing party starts hours before the main event.  Our "pre-game" show is the red carpet show.  While dudes sit on the couch with tortilla chips and a big bowl of queso listening to commentators discuss football statistics, we're sitting on the couch with tortilla chips and a big bowl of queso (and goat cheese and crackers and fondue and bread and mushroom turnovers and brownies) listening to commentators discuss couture gowns.

Do we really care who wins the trophy?  Yes, of course.  Why else do we print up faux Oscar ballots and play eenie-meenie-minie-moe choosing what we think is Best Documentary Short?  This Sunday night, especially, we all cheered as Kathryn Bigelow won Best Director over her ex-husband, James Cameron. 

Otherwise, we mostly care about who wins on the red carpet.

This year, we joined Jay from America's Next Top Model and please-eat-a-hamburger, boobalicious Giuliana Rancic on E! as they used a telestrator (just like in the Superbowl!  I half expected John Madden to bust into the frame, no really) to literally point at various aspects of an actress' gown.  There is no shortage of commentary for a truly bizarre ensemble.  Remember Bjork's swan dress (with matching egg purse!) from 2001?  We're STILL talking about it!

Now, if we had to recognize one distinguishing asset of being a single girl, it's our ability to criticize to no end.  And we especially like to disparage women who are younger, thinner, prettier, wealthier and more successful than we.  (Predominantly, supermodels and actresses.) 

Who is wearing Spanx?  How many Botox injections has Demi Moore had at this point?  Why didn't George Clooney get his hair cut?  Who is that awful creature with him?  And what is she wearing?  (This spawned a whole flood of snarky condemnations.)  Charlize Theron, REALLY?  Miley Cyrus, is your dress too tight for you to stand up straight?  And Vera Farmiga, you look like one big tranny mess.

Does criticism burn more calories than compliments?  We certainly hope so after that cheese and carb binge.

#37 Leggings*

*a running commentary on elastic waistbands

Aside from the remake of The Parent Trap in which a young and talented Lindsay Lohan brilliantly played the role of both Hallie Parker and Annie James, perhaps the only other contribution this tabloid sensation and celebrity trainwreck has made to (wo)mankind has been the resurgence of leggings.

We all agree how socially inacceptable it is to leave the house in your "fat pants" unless you are working on your fitness at the gym or coming home from a yoga/pilates class.  Even wearing sweatpants while walking the dog around certain most neighborhoods in Los Anjealous could be considered a fashion faux pas.

Certainly, the initial months of leggings' second coming in the 21st century was met with mixed feelings from single girls around the world.  Celebrities like Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen, Mischa Barton and Agyness Deyn could get away with wearing a t-shirt, leggings and $700 Louboutins.  But those of us in the general population have not seen nor touched a pair of leggings since the 1980s.  (Remember stirrups?) 

Leggings: Are they really pants??  The fashion world was in a tizzy over this controversial query and leggings were met with some initial resistance.  We thought the trend would past.  That was five years ago.

Since then, leggings have become a staple in a single girl's wardrobe.  American Apparel sells them in a dozen colors and differents textures.  Yes, even gold lamé.  The latest craze is currently denim leggings or jeggings (jeans+leggings).  We have come to embrace this trend (maybe not the gold lamé) for good reason: leggings are really fat pants.  And we can wear them in public.

Leggings are the perfect merger of comfort and style; they are the consummate alternative to skinny jeans.  Suddenly, we can live our lives like we've never lived before.  Hallelujah!  A single girl's secret desire has been fulfilled.  Yes, eating.  A lot.  In public.  Food babies?  Who cares?

The versatility of leggings and their elastic waistbands is also worthy of worship:
- Problem: fat day.  Solution: leggings.
- Problem: skirts and dresses during cold winters.  Solution: leggings.
- Problem: shrunken mini dress turned tunic.  Solution: leggings.

As are its merits:
- Opportunity: movie night at a boy's house. 
Suggestion: leggings.  Best for curling up on the couch and cuddling.

- Opportunity: movie night turned sleepover at a boy's house. 
Suggestion: leggings.  Pairs well with a men's collared shirt the next day.

- Opportunity: last-minute costume party. 
Suggestion: leggings.  Specifically of the black latex variety.  There's a reason why Catwoman is one of the most sexy villainesses of all time.

We never thought we would say this, but thank you, Lindsay Lohan, from the bottom of our (food babies') hearts.

#36 Our Love/Hate Relationship With Romantic Comedies

Like other single girls I know, I was one of many who saw Valentine's Day this past weekend on appropriately, Valentine's Day.  Apparently there are quite a number of us single girls out there - Valentine's Day opened at number one, raking in over $52 million.  Hollywood hasn't seen numbers like this since Avatard last December!

While I was rather taken by the film (Bradley Cooper!  Eric Dane!  Patrick Dempsey!  All at once!) and thought Garry Marshall created a nice homage to our fair city of Los Angeles, my girlfriend thought it made single girls look like crazy bitches around Valentine's Day.  (Um, because we are?)  Thanks, Jessica Biel!

Single girls have been conditioned to cherish the notion of true love overcoming all obstacles since our Snow White and Cinderella-watching days.  Our first introduction to romantic comedies came in the form of The Princess Bride.  (An easy transition with the princess and handsome hero thing still going on.)  This subsequently led to Pretty Woman, The Cutting Edge, Sleepless in Seattle, and so on and so forth.

Pretty soon, we were mock wailing to friends, "I'M NOT JOSIE GROSSIE ANYMORE!"

For 120 minutes, we sit in blissful ignorance mooning over Hugh Grant or Matthew McConaughey or Ryan Reynolds as they attempt to reunite with their true loves.  And then the GRAND GESTURE!  She is just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her!  And then we cry about it.  WE CAN'T HELP IT!  WE HAVE BEEN BRAINWASHED TO DO THIS!  EVERY TIME!  Ugh, it kills me.

Why are we compelled to watch a rom-com on television even though we own the DVD or have already seen it 100 times?  (I never tire of How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days.)  Hollywood studios strategically release their shitty films, generally romantic comedies, around Oscar season.  Because they know WOMEN WILL STILL SEE THEM.  How many more commercials do I have to see for Leap Year or When in Rome?  (I have yet to see either.  For now.)

Single girls love romantic comedies because nothing is better than observing two people find true love and live happily ever after despite all odds.  Never mind that they're actors!  Never mind it's not real!

After the giddy initial reaction that overcomes us from witnessing two people fall in love (again, never mind that they're actors and it's not real), reality begins to settle back in and we fall into a state of post rom-com depression. 

We wonder how we will ever find true love if these heroines with the perfect bodies, immaculate hair, amazing apartments, and glamourous jobs are having the same problems we do?  Do they really have the same problems with dating men that we do?  We wonder why all of our life's problems are not resolved in 120 minutes? 

Like, really, Jennifer Garner?  Are you actually going to fall in love with your dead fiance's best friend?  Oh, no, J. Lo!  Just your luck, of COURSE you fall for the groom of a wedding you are planning!  I totally want to trade apartments with somebody in England and fall in love with her handsome brother even though he is a widower and has two daughters.

Most importantly, we hate romantic comedies because they lead us to have unrealistic expectations of men.  And the more we date and the more men we are exposed to, the more we realize how obnoxiously unsettling rom-coms really are.  Where are these guys who will tell us "You complete me" or "You make me want to be a better man"?  When will I tell someone to shut up, just shut up, because he had me at "hello"?

Even the "bad boys" in these films end up redeeming themselves.  The jaded and cynical asshole is really heartbroken over a dead wife or a girlfriend/fiancee who cheated on him.  (With his best friend, of course.)  In reality, are we supposed to believe that men are assholes because it's a defense mechanism against further heartache?  Or are they just simply assholes?

The worst rom-coms are the ones that intentionally manipulate our emotions.  Okay, kill Gerard Butler in the second scene and then have his wife go on some international scavenger hunt without him, given various clues here and there from alive-Gerard Butler only to remind us that he is really DEAD.  My friend was bawling every ten minutes watching that film.  (PS I Love You, for you emotional masochists.)

If my love life were a film, it would be an epic romantic disaster with nuances of horror and comedy.

#35 The "Friend Box"

I was in sixth grade the first time I was ever "friend boxed."  I overheard the boy I was in love with tell his friend that he liked my personality.  Translation: "I like her but I wouldn't make out with her under the bleachers after school, let alone hold her hand."  In hindsight, I am thanking my lucky stars I was such a late-blooming awkward child (and completely repulsive to guys until just a few years ago, whereas now I am just somewhat repulsive) because this very boy ended up getting some chick pregnant in high school and graduating a year late. 

I just googled him and he's a cell phone salesman now.

You are basically "friend boxed" if the object of your affection is absolutely disgusted by the thought of having sex with you.  "Friend boxing" is an epilogue to the "let's just be friends" speech.  "Friend boxing" works for both guys and girls, but boys find themselves in a "friend box" more so than girls.  (That's because boys don't really bother with platonic friendships.  Please feel free to discuss this amongst yourselves.)

Those who are immediately "friend boxed" include friends' boyfriends/husbands, friends' ex-boyfriends/ex-husbands, the ambiguously gay, the morbidly obese, and creepsters.  Those who are eventually "friend boxed" include those who let their diffidence get in the way of expressing their attraction and those who confuse us with requests to "hang out."  (Seriously, what exactly are your intentions with this elusive "hang out"?) 

Single girls like the "friend box" for its organizational elements.  With all the drama we already administrate on a daily basis, "friend boxes" help us compartmentalize a subject that brings us the most agitation: boys.

But Single Girl 1.0, you say, why bother keeping all these "friend boxes" around?  You'll end up looking like a friggin' storage unit.

As you know, single girls tend to be somewhat narcissistic.  As vainglorious beings, the thing we find better than loving ourselves is having others love us just as much.  This includes the guys we have "friend boxed" and doomed to celibate relationships with us.  We are taking advantage of knowing that they already adore and admire us and that's why we keep them around. 

Yes, we realize having us so close to them, yet never having us close like that tortures them with a sense of (false) hope.  And yes, we are evil. 

Is it possible for a guy to escape this "friend box" marked "chastity" and get into our box? 

Although this idea is practically unheard of, the short answer is yes. 

The long answer is: it depends.  We have different "friend boxes" for different guys.  Some boxes are made of impenetrable steel and welded shut.  Some boxes are made of recycled cardboard and haphazardly sealed with generic duct tape.

Obviously it's much easier to break out of the latter than the former.  And yes, alcohol helps.  Although it's sometimes just a matter of thinking outside the "friend box."