We Tell Girls to "Look Out For Each Other" At Parties. Boys Should Be Looking Out For Each Other, Too.
In a perfect world, a girl could pass out completely naked on a fraternity floor and no one would touch her.
However, we do not live in a perfect world. We live in a world where girls and women have always been told not to go anywhere alone; not to go outside at night; and to keep an eye on each other at parties.
But considering how rape accusations have the power to royally fuck up a boy's or man's life, why aren't we also telling them that they should look out for each other?
A while back, I wrote that there are no bad essay topics — there are only bad essays.
Similarly, there is no such thing as small talk — only small minds. The good news is, if you're one of those people who "hates small talk" or thinks small talk is "boring" or "meaningless" or "shallow," you are not doomed to be boring and meaningless and shallow.
"Small talk," like any social skill, is a skill. And this one is really easy to learn.
All you have to do...
Hello, today's teenagers. I know you don't remember this, but back when you were three months old, you likely began showing self-soothing behaviors — that is, you began learning how to calm down, relax and go to sleep again in your bed.
By the time you were six months old, your parents were actively encouraging you to self-soothe, as this is around the time you could make it through the night without needing to be fed.
And I'll bet you were crushing it!
Everyone knows basketball is the best sport. It's also the sport I was playing when I tore my ACL last year.
After doing extensive research on the best possible ACL surgeons, then meeting with each of my top three, I decided against having the ACL reconstruction surgery — and it ended up being the best decision of my life.
The Curmudgeon's Quests, by Allan Wooley
When I found out Mr. Parris died, I sat on my porch and wept — the mailman didn't know what to do when he saw me there, blocking the mailbox.
What a heartbreaking loss for the whole world.
Last week, I found out that yet another teacher who shaped my high school experience had died. Though sad, I took comfort in learning that he'd published three books in his retirement.
I'm only on page 20 of Crumbs Cast Upon the Current: Some Stories, Poems, and Essays... but I already wish that all of my teachers would write a memoir before it's too late.
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Last night, like every night before it these last few weeks, was one of the most glorious of my life. It was midnight, and I was walking through the woods, alone. The trees blocked most of the moonlight and starlight, but above and below and all around me, I was surrounded by fireflies.
All at once, I felt secluded in nature, and like I was scuba diving, and like I was riding Space Mountain, and like I was on some kind of drug that just makes you love everything around more than you thought possible.
Image: @TheHappyTalent on Instagram
They say money can't buy happiness -- but they're totally wrong. First of all, on a log scale, more money does mean more happiness:
"What about y'all?" a friend asked recently after during our nightly Zoom call. He'd just introduced everyone to his newborn baby and shared the birth story. "What's new with you?"
"What's... new with me?"
It's the lockdown. No one had much to report -- and certainly nothing that compares to birthing a quarantine baby. Finally, I said, "Well... I found a box of my old clothes from high school and middle school in the barn. They're in really good condition, and I think they still fit."
The last place I ever expected my writing to get shared... was incel forums. The Happy Talent is about taking accountability and making changes to self-improve. Incel forums are about whining like little boys and blaming women for all your flaws and shortcomings.
In particular, these man-children complain that I say things like, "Here are actionable steps to not seem creepy," and, "No means no."
Nevertheless, I have faith that at least some of these guys actually want to do better. Stop acting creepy. Find love.
Which is why today's lesson is: if a girl you were hitting on was rude to you, it's probably your fault.
You know I have a thick skin -- I love making fun of virtue signaling, regressive feminism, whiny little babies, and social justice warriors.
But I canNOT stand the disgusting rape song that is "Baby, It's Cold Outside." When it comes on, I literally wait outside until the song is over.
About the Author
Eva is a content specialist with a passion for play, travel... and a little bit of girl power. Read more >
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