Ellen Fein and Sherie Schnieder, authors of The Rules, are back! The women who wrote some of the most popular and infamous dating books of the 90’s are coming out with a modern-take on dating called Not Your Mother’s Rules, which hits bookstores in February of 2013.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Oh for the love of all that is good, why why why do we need more Rules!? It's basically the same, except expanded to deal with dating websites and Facebook and stuff. From the masterminds:
A woman cannot email, or even wink at a guy’s profile, without becoming the aggressor and possibly getting hurt down the line when the guy dumps her for the woman whose profile he really likes. The only way to be sure that a guy is interested is to let him make the first move. If you have something exceptional in common, he has to notice that, and contact you first.
Welp, I guess I screwed that one up. Sorry, lovely boyfriend o'mine, it looks like this whole being in love thing is a sham. It's too bad, really, but that's what Ellen and Sherie say and their word is gold. Also, see you tonight at 7.
You guys, I just don't think I can re-read The Rules when it comes out. I really, really can't do it. It made me so angry the first time around and I'm trying very hard to eliminate unnecessary stress in my life.
Speaking of unnecessary stress, last night my roommate and I thought we heard someone trying to open the back door to our house. I was watching The Wire (best show ever, duh) which of course made me pretty sure that Omar was in my backyard. Now, I love Omar but I don't ever want him looking for me.
What does one do in this situation? We froze. Then we grabbed our stuff and went over to our next door neighbor's house and asked to check the back yard. It was empty, the door was closed. When we went back to our own place feeling slightly more at ease, we checked the back yard. We both remembered the windows on the screen door being open ... but now they were closed. CRAP. So of course then we had to check the whole house - the basement, our rooms, everything. I said, "Grab something!" I grabbed a pilsner glass, thinking I could break it over someone's head (probably not, though, now that I'm thinking about it). My roommate grabbed a knife. Honestly, that scared me even worse! Then we had a hilarious game of chicken about who would go down to the basement first.
The last place we checked was the bathroom. Pulling back the shower curtain was an exercise in bravery. I thought my heart would jump straight out of my chest. This is probably why Pottermore did not sort me into Gryffindor, where live the brave of heart. Nope. Books for me please!
In the end, there was no one there. Liz went to bed, I poured myself a large glass of wine, and continued watching The Wire.