Life Lessons from Jessica Simpson

I look back on my mom’s sage advice, and although I chose not to take some of it (to mixed results), I know that it is coming from a credible source. That woman is pretty darn smart.

So that got me thinking about the girls who are being raised by the doofuses of the world. Jessica Simpson, for instance. One day, if it’s in the cards, Jessica Simpson will have children. And maybe one or more of these children will be vertically-challenged, large chested mini-me’s.

One can only imagine the wisdom she will impart on these kids. I think one of the easiest ways to raise my future children is to make sure they understand that they need to do the exact opposite of whatever Jessica Simpson does. Basically, W.W.J.S.N.D. (What Would Jessica Simpson Not Do). That way, they at least have a chance in this world.

Here’s what I would tell them:

“Don’t ever give too much information away.”

Jessica Simpson, or “JS,” is the poster child of TMI. From showcasing her entire marriage on a reality TV show to tweeting pictures of her making out with her super tall ex-athlete guy, this girl does not understand privacy. Many people aren’t aware that I’m a fiercely private person. There is a line, and it isn’t even that fine, that dictates what people need to know and what needs to be kept close to the vest. Keep some things personal and private. I’ve learned by trial and error what to say and what not to say, and the easiest thing is to not say anything at all. You won’t be seeing any photos on my Twitter of me making out with anybody, no matter how good looking they are.

“Have good style.”

I don’t understand how somebody with a staff of stylists managed to emerge in public in those jeans and not get tackled on her way to the stage. First of all, what were those jeans doing in her wardrobe? Someone played a cruel trick. Basically, I’ll leave the younger generation with this: just have style, be classy, don’t look like an idiot.

“If your ex gets engaged to his long-time girlfriend, don’t try to one-up him and get engaged to your boyfriend of five months.”

Basically, you look like a jealous weirdo if you run out and get engaged to a guy you barely know immediately after news breaks of your ex moving on with his life. Taking something like an engagement as seriously as you take your selection of handbag to go with today’s outfit is a recipe for disaster.

“Being referred to as ‘sexual napalm’ by a rockstar who let you shack up on his tour bus for a little while is not a compliment.”

Make sure you aren’t in a situation where someone shows how little they respect you by humiliating you in a very public forum. I felt terrible for JS when the guy with the enormous head, John Mayer, said these things about her in Playboy last year. Yes, guys can be real a-holes. But there is something to be said about not putting yourself in a position for someone to say these things about you.

“Don’t only go for the hot quarterback.”

Great guys come in all shapes, sizes, colors, demographics… the list could go on. When you date the same hot guy over and over, and find yourself single over and over, something is wrong. It’s great to have a “type” and an idea of what you want. You have to be attracted to this person. But don’t pass over an otherwise amazing guy because maybe he isn’t tall enough or maybe his hair is thinning a bit on top, or maybe he isn’t loaded with cash money. Everyone deserves a fair chance. The less attractive guys I have dated have treated me a hell of a lot better than the super hot guys I have dated. “Men who are too good looking are never good in bed because they never had to be.” -Carrie Bradshaw, Sex and the City

“Smart is sexy. Don’t act like an idiot.”

Some girls think that guys want them to be ditzy. These girls are real idiots, and the guys who want this are true douches. If someone wants you to be less than your highest potential, why would you even consider spending another second with them? JS has the ditzy act down pat. No telling if she is truly this dumb, or if it is an act. Either way, not a good way to be. Some of my favorite JS quotes:

“You’ve done a nice job decorating the White House.” when she met the Secretary of the Interior Gale Norton

“Is this chicken, what I have, or is this fish? I know it’s tuna, but it says ‘Chicken by the Sea.’” (the world will never forget this)

“On my first day of Jr. High I was in Geography class, and the teacher asked us if anybody knew the names of the continents. And I was sooo excited. I was like, Damnit! It’s my first day of 7th grade, Im in jr high and i know this answer. So i raised my hand I was the first one and I said A-E-I-O-U!” (Okay. I may have only made an 1130 on my SAT, but when I was in 7th grade, I was well aware that we had continents and could even name them all. I believe I learned that in 2nd or 3rd grade, and we’re talking about Alabama public schools here.)

“Twenty-three is old. It’s almost 25, which is like almost mid-20s.”

Finally, “Be humble.”

There is nothing wrong with knowing that you are amazing, one-of-a-kind, fierce, intelligent, and deserving of nothing less than the best. However, once you cross that line of knowing that you are awesome to the max to pompous, you’re in big trouble. Nothing turns people off faster than body odor and being so arrogant that you are looking into cloning yourself. JS once said, “All I have to say is: Jessica Simpson is the most beautiful woman on the planet!” Wow.

JS has done a lot of good things in her life to help others, and that certainly needs to be applauded. However, her acts of good will are overshadowed by the dumb things she says and does. Maybe maturity will come with age (although she is nearly 31…). All we can do is cross our fingers for her and hope that our children proudly wear their W.W.J.S.N.D. bracelets. Yeah, I said it, I would make those for my kids. Nothing wrong with a constant reminder of what not to do if you want a good shot at amazingness.

Crush Into Me

You know that feeling when you can’t wipe the goofy grin off your face? The same feeling that keeps you up at night, thinking nonstop happy thoughts. The same feeling that causes you to check your phone, your email, your facebook, your twitter, etc. ten more times within the hour just in case something new has come in.

That’s right, my friend. You have a crush on someone.




Crush. That sneaky devil that comes out of nowhere, blindsiding you and rendering you unaware of your surroundings, much like a meteor shower or Bieber Fever. In my 28 (and holding…) years, I have fallen victim to the crush too many times to count. It’s interesting to me how someone can be your friend and then poof! a switch flips and all of a sudden you can imagine yourself with that person. I mean, with that person. Sometimes a good brunch date is all it takes for you to realize that there is some actual romantic potential in this person. Sometimes alcohol is involved. I’m just trying to look at it from all sides here.

But isn’t it fun? The giddy feeling when your heart skips a little beat. I love getting texts, calls, emails, whatever, from him because it tells me that I crossed his mind, even for second. I would like to think that I’m crossing his mind and parking it there, the way that he is doing in my mind. But beggars can’t be choosers. Even one little text can make my day.

It’s really fun at first, and then it will go one of two ways: either the whole deal comes to fruition and you end up with something good or the other person simply doesn’t feel the same way about you and you find yourself clinking glasses with your best friend, muttering things like “He wasn’t that great” or “I’m way too good for him.” It’s how we make ourselves feel better. Who knew it would be this hard to lose someone you never actually had?

It’s scary for me to tell someone how I feel about them. It is even scarier to think of what they might say back. I remember when I was younger we would all get together at sleepovers and warn each other to NEVER tell a boy that you like him because he will RUN! I took that to heart, and was proven right many times over. But as we get older, is this still true? I know that if I’m remotely interested in someone, I love to hear that they have a crush on me. Sometimes it jump starts me and I find myself liking them in return. Someone please shed some light on this. Do guys want to hear if we have a crush on them?

So I have a crush on someone. And he has a crush on me too. Okay, so we're crazy about each other. Okay, so I'm madly in love with him and he's madly in love with me. How exciting is that? This is so awesome.

Secondhand Dating

Some call it frugal. Some call it thrifty. Some call it downright cheap. I call it smart.

I spend next to nothing for my thrift store finds, and I get compliments on my outfits all the time. You don’t have to look like a hobo while wearing second hand finds. In fact, you can have three times the wardrobe and constantly wear something different, while not spending your two-week paycheck on those jeans you’ve been coveting.










The same goes for relationships. Sometimes the “gently used” people are the best ones to date.
I’ve been in the uncomfortable situation too many times, where I find myself out and about with a newbie, someone who has little to no dating experience. It’s so uncomfortable for both people when someone is fumbling and inexperienced. Besides the fact that I don’t have time to hang around and feel like I’m on a high school date. Let’s be grown-ups and date like we know what the hell we’re doing, shall we?

It is interesting to me that sometimes people show enough confidence that their inexperience is masked for the first few dates. I’ve been duped by this before. They start off great, and then I find out that they have only been on a couple dates in their life, or that their only serious girlfriend was for a few months five years ago.

The bottom line: I don’t teach. People who have been through relationships and have been down the road once or twice are going to go a lot farther with me. I prefer to date men who have seen the good, the bad, and the ugly, because they will appreciate me and what they have with me. That is one thing I am thankful for – I know what I want, what I don’t want and where I’m willing to compromise. This is a good thing for people I date because I won’t be dragging them around while I’m trying to figure out if I want to date them or not. And of course I appreciate the same thing from the people I date.

The solution for people who aren’t yet “gently used?” Get out there, date up a storm and get some notches in your belt. It will serve you and your future relationships a great purpose. Best case scenario is you meet the perfect person. If you don’t meet them for a while, at least you’ll know what you don’t want.

The flipside is the “holes in the knees” people. You know the type: they have been around the block too many times. Their reputations aren’t the best, you know several of their exes… they are on other end of the spectrum. I feel like I am in the middle, between the newbies and the serial daters. I would prefer to not date new people constantly, but apparently that is what is in the cards for me seeing as how I am still single. That said, I turn down dates that I know are going to not work out.

The moral of the story is that you can find some amazing used things, bring them home, take good care of them and they will last you a long time and make you feel great. Turns out, the same goes for people.

When His Hermes Handbag Trumps My Louis Vuitton... We Have a Problem

I spotted him as soon as I got in the airport security line. He was tall, thin (but not too thin… fit), with dark hair and good skin. He was impeccably dressed, from the Ferragamo shoes to the Versace eyeglasses. His suit was expensive, but not so expensive that he appeared to be trying too hard. I noticed his amazing Hermes leather satchel and turned to him. “Great bag,” I said, nonchalantly. In a voice higher-pitched than Jack from Will & Grace, he squealed, “Oh THANK YOU! So much.” He might as well have added a heel kick and an “OMG!” to the end of that sentence.

I’m surrounded by girly men.

Are straight men ever this stylish? Follow-up question: are said straight stylish men ever low-maintenance? Ahhh, that’s the ticket right there.

I’ve dated this guy before… the questionably straight girly man who dresses better than me, has more hair products than I do, and gets more facials than anyone I know. This man is one in a plentiful breed. Let’s explore the characteristics of this ever-growing population.

They take forever to get ready. They iron every item of clothing, including jeans they are about to wear to the grocery store. Their home is decorated almost as nicely as mine (almost). They don’t know how to fix anything around the house. They cook over-the-top meals that take many hours and about 30 ingredients. They know when my eye shadow is different. They have polished shoes. They have softer hands than I do.

I’m not saying any of these are bad things. It’s the combination of everything that makes it hard to date this guy. I can’t tell you how many times I sat in the living room, ready to go, while Girly Man was putting more stuff in his hair or looking for the right watch to match with his outfit. Now I know how guys feel when the girl isn’t ready when they get there to pick them up. Annoyed.

I love a sharp-dressed man. But is it too much to ask for that sharp dressing to be easy and effortless? And what about a low-key beauty routine? What happened to a man taking a shower, and smelling like soap? A little smell-good cologne isn’t bad, as long as I’m not searching for the gas mask when we get in the car. C’mon guys! Get it together.

I like to be the girl in the relationship, who holds the cards on knowing which night cream is best, and whether to use body scrub once a week or more frequently. It’s just my old fashioned nature I guess. Not a fan of the guy knowing more about this than me.

So are there any men out there who are impeccably dressed AND somewhat mountain man-ish? Is this possible? My experience is from one extreme to the next, so a middle ground sure would be nice. Obviously I am willing to compromise, but after dating Girly Man, I have declared my unwillingness to date a man more girly than myself.



Please follow me on twitter: @danaseals

Twisted Sisters

I’m in a book club. One with great girls, delicious food, wine and dessert, and fantastic book choices. Here’s how it goes down at my book club: Each month, someone chooses a book. We all read the book, then meet every six weeks to talk about the book. Except we never talk about it. We talk about everything from vampires to babies to baby vampires to gossip to Gossip Girl to girls being cooler than boys. You name it, we talk about it. But the actual book?

No, we don’t usually get into that. Until last night.

This month, the ultra cool Punky-Brewster look-alike, Lacey, chose Under the Banner of Heaven: A Story of Violent Faith by John Krakauer. This book delves into the world of a branch-out sect of a certain denomination. Without going into a religious commentary, I will say that I am just not on board with these extreme fundamentalists. I’m serious, they believe in some batshit crazy things. A large component of their belief is that men are allowed to marry whoever they feel like marrying (including step-daughters and nieces), and marry as many of them as they want.

Hold up.

Pump the brakes.

As one of my book club gals put it, her husband made a comment to the tune of “I can barely handle you and the baby AND my job. Throw in more wives and more babies? No thanks.” Agreed. However, I can see why these guys want so many wives, because they are only allowed to sleep with a woman if she is in ovulation. Well, if you have tons of women in the pipeline, you don’t have to wait too long before your next sexy time. I mean, I get it. If you're a sex-craved maniac who likes to control women.

Plus, they don’t have to pay too much money for these other wives because technically they are not married, so technically they are single moms (of a billion kids), so they get a bunch of government assistance from tax dollars, such as food stamps. In light of this information, I’d like to give a shout-out to all the crazy plural wives out there: “You’re welcome.”

The men in the book all had so much in common: they are controlling, egotistical, and looking out for No. 1. Basically, they exhibit all of the personality traits that I can’t stand.

I haven’t seen the reality show Sister Wives, because I live in 1975 and do not have cable television. But we talked about this at length last night. These women (picture on left with Mr. Main Man in the center) claim to be 100% fine with their husband sleeping with the other women. Ummm, no you aren’t. I’ll go on the record right now and say that there is not one woman out there who is perfectly fine with her husband sleeping with another woman. Don’t tell me they don’t want to bitch slap each other on a daily basis.

It is "how they were raised," "God says it’s okay"… this is how they justify it. I just can’t wrap my brain around this concept.

I am not generally a jealous person. But I would be bold-faced lying if I told you that I don’t feel a twinge of some kind of jealousy if an ex-girlfriend calls or if he is chatty kathy with some girls while we are out. I think that is pretty natural to feel that way. But I am skilled at rationalizing what is cause for concern and what is not worth the emotional drain and the potential argument.

I have known some people who were insanely jealous, all the time. I always feel sorry for these people, because they are severely missing out on a happy, cool life if all they think about is what this other person is doing. Until it turns into “who” they are doing, just calm down. Give somebody the benefit of the doubt and see what happens.

If any of you jealous nellies out there read this and heed my advice, I may have just saved you a lot of stress.

Unless, of course, you are a plural wife. In which case, you probably aren’t reading this, except for the rare instance that your controlling husband is letting you read a blog about dating and relationships. The same blog that regularly tells you to grow a pair and take control of yourself and your happiness. Yeah, I didn’t think so.

(Although slow in a few places (because it goes deep into the history of the religion... zzzzz....), Under the Banner of Heaven was a very interesting book. Check it out here.)

Would You Like a Gin and Platonic, or a Scotch and Sofa?

So you’re out with your friends, looking all amazing and having a great time. You spot a good prospect over at the bar, so you try hard to look cool and not like the total stalker that you are, sneaking glances over in their direction. You tell your friends about this person, and then are mortified when they ALL look over at once.

Girls might do a little hair flip. Guys might do the smoldering stare. If there is any mutual hair flipping/smoldering staring going on, somebody will make a move. It’s like playing chess. So here you are, standing right in front of each other.

Now comes the pickup line...


Such a crucial time – this first impression pickup line situation. It can be funny and sexy, or it can fall flatter than Amy Winehouse on a sidewalk. I have heard some hilarious, great pickup lines and I have heard some that made me want to throw up in my mouth a little bit. The success rate is usually pretty low if you go for gimmicky, however. I don’t care how much swagger you have walking up to me. If you throw out something ridiculous, I’m not picking up what you’re putting down.

Back in college, I was at a bar with some girlfriends. This cowboy sauntered up to me and licked my shirt sleeve. He literally rendered me speechless. Then he put his arm around me and said “C’mon sugar. Let’s get you home and out of those wet clothes.” That one didn’t work.

One time, back in Alabama, I was at a Waffle House (I know…sexy) with some girls and a much older guy leaned over to my friend Michelle and said “You look so good, I want to put you on a plate and sop you up with a biscuit.” That one didn’t work either.

I overheard this one a few years back: “You be the tree, and I’ll wrap you like a Koala.” Kind of cute, but more oogie than cute.

I also got this one recently: “Are you from Tennessee? Because you’re the only ten I see around here.” Clever, but clearly he didn’t know of my disdain for the Tennessee Vols. Regardless, I just wasn’t interested.

I polled my friends and here are the best pickup lines they have ever heard:
(Note: These are real life, real talk, non-fiction.)

(At the gym, flexing his bicep) “Are you a pediatrician? Because these babies are SICK!” –Angela

I was walking through Wal-Mart last July 3rd, and I had a halter top on. I had so many mosquito bites, and I was scratching my shoulder. A gross older guy walked by and asked if he could “help me with my itch”. Freaked out, I was truly speechless and for some reason on instinct my answer came out yes, thank you. I quickly corrected it, and 5 minutes later he found me on a different isle asking “Can we start from scratch?” –Tiffany

(On a college campus) “Damn, you look so educated.” –Katie

“Can you buy me a beer?” from an obviously underage girl. –Jared

“Wanna get some Nachos and F***?” –Amanda

“Hey gurl. I want to feed chu. Whatcha name is?” –Natalie

“Spend the night with me and I will help you with the restraining order in the morning.” –Wally

“Honey, is your daddy a thief? He must have stolen the stars and put them in your eyes” –Sarah

‎”Hi. What have you got to lose?” –Jonathan

“Hi. You’re my type.” –Mack (they’ve been together ever since)

“Would you like to test drive my car?” –Mandi (now married to this guy)

My favorite:
“Hey, could you loan me a dollar for a beer?” I made him sign a note that he would pay me back $1.25. He did, and 3 years later we got married. –Karen

One of my girlfriends' buddies reads my blog religiously (thank you!). He said that he reads my stuff for a girl’s perspective, to get advice. So here you go: this is what works. Walk up to them confidently (not cocky – there is a difference) and say “Hey, what’s up? I’m (insert your name here).”

That’s all you have to do. Really.

You So Crazy

If you were to ask most people how they feel about any of their exes, I would put money on the answer being something to the tune of “He/She is crazy.”

I’ve said it a hundred times. I can describe pretty much every guy I’ve dated as “crazy.” They don’t usually start that way. There is something about the demise of a relationship that makes people crazy, or do crazy things.

This got me thinking: are we already screwed up? Or do they make us crazy…
I may be eccentric, but I am not crazy. Although I have done things that sure make me look it. Certain situations have made me do things that I am not proud of. I have polled many friends, and all are in agreeance that men make us crazy. We do so many things that are out of character for us, for instance:

Back in the day, I was known to sometimes sit by the phone, obsessing over whether it would ring. I have done drive-bys, just to see if they are home. And if they are home, I then wonder why they aren’t calling me back? I have been way too available, have dropped plans at the first chance to spend time with a guy, have Google-stalked the heck out of someone (then acted surprised when they told me things I already knew about them, but couldn’t admit that I knew). You name it, I have done it. Because I was young, over-eager, hopelessly romantic.

Whatever the reason, I was crazy. I’ll own up to it. It’s the merging of two ideas in your head: you are alone (read: lonely), and this person is pretty great. So clearly, this match-up could be awesome and lucrative for you. So you get excited (too excited), and you make a fool of yourself.

I may be a tad old-fashioned, but I feel like the guy should be the pursuer. Otherwise, how am I supposed to know if he’s actually into me? If I’m the one doing all the work, then he could just be going along with it because it’s so easy and convenient for him.

Thank God I’ve gotten past the crazy. I no longer obsess over situations, or people. If he doesn’t call or try to take me out, or if he acts uninterested or plays games, then he clearly does not understand how awesome I am (and the rest of you are just as awesome, fyi…). We are all lovely creations, and people who act aloof are not deserving of our time and efforts. My brain simply doesn’t have enough room for worrying about what to do when he doesn’t call. Life is way too short for that kind of ridiculousness.

So, as much as you might like that guy, or as perfect as he may seem, let him go if he isn’t pursuing you. You deserve better than that. Because, really, when you are old and your grandkids ask you, “How did you guys meet?” you certainly don’t want the answer to be, “Well, sweetheart, when I met your grandfather, he was lukewarm on me, but I stalked the hell out of him and chased him until he finally gave in and we have been married ever since.”

Soul Mate vs. Sole Mate

I was honored to be invited to eat Easter supper with a very sweet couple and their family. I enjoyed every second of it, from the meal to the impromptu basketball. Everyone is so nice and down to Earth. And funny… you have no idea! I had never before met their other two “kids” (I use that term loosely because we are far from being kids) and I just adore them. What a great bunch of folks.

Every time I am with this couple, I can see very clearly that they are soul mates. You can see it when they look at each other. Same with my mom and stepdad (who is more of a dad than my dad, so we’ll call him my “dad”). Obviously they are meant to be together.

So that evening, after I got home, I sat on my patio and got to thinking about soul mates. Two small words, one huge concept.

So is there always such a thing? Or are some people just lucky enough to find this elusive soul mate? Is there really just one person out there who holds the key to your heart, your dream house, your dream life? No man defines who you are. This I cannot emphasize enough. But can that one man define everything else about your life, including your happiness?

I don’t know the answer. I guess I just have to have faith. At the end of the day faith is a funny thing. It turns up when you don't really expect it. It's like one day you realize that the fairy tale may be slightly different than you dreamed. The castle, well, it may not be a castle. It may be my 1,090 square foot “cottage” that needs to be repainted. The two perfect children and a perfect white picket fence… well, I do have two perfect pets and a wooden picket fence that is not painted white but it’s perfect just the way it is.

I looked around and realized that I am right where I need to be. I have everything I could possibly need. Of course it’s easy to want more. But when it comes down to it, if that soul mate ever shows up (if such a thing even exists), it would just be icing on the cake that is my life.

The Bridges of Tarrant County

Today I got to thinking the past and the proverbial “one that got away.”

I know several people who still think about the “one that got away” and it makes me hope I’m not in that position years from now. I don’t have a “one that got away” in the technical sense. It’s more the “one that could have been so amazing.”

We met in an airport terminal during a ridiculously long layover. We clicked, and then we went out for drinks after returning home from our respective trips. We were having one of those great first dates that you can only have when it’s not an actual date. And then I flaked out and decided to give my wayward boyfriend another shot. I promptly deleted Airport Guy’s phone number and gave my relationship 100%. I didn't think I would ever see him again, and that made me a little sad. He sure was cute. And he made me laugh.

A year later, I had been single for a while (wayward boyfriend didn’t last after all) and I couldn’t get Airport Guy out of my head. There was just something about him that was so comfortable. I remembered his phone number in my head (I’m weird like that) and dialed him. He met me that day and so began a really great summer. We never endured the DTR (Define the Relationship discussion) but I was okay with that. I just enjoyed being with him. We were good together. We watched a lot of Jeopardy and hit Mellow Mushroom on Tuesday nights to dominate their trivia game. But the summer ended and he disappeared without a word. I am not a person who gets mad, but I was disappointed. I really liked him and I think he liked me too. I held out hope for a while that he would come back but realized that he must have needed to be alone. I still think about him often and wonder how he’s doing. And sometimes I’ll text a “hello” to him. I don’t think he knows how much of an impression he made on me.

Maybe one day I’ll meet someone who makes me not want to call Airport Guy during weak moments. Or maybe this is going to be like the 'Bridges of Tarrant County', a very brief affair I'll write about in sappy letters to my grandchildren. Either way, it sure was a great summer and I smile when I think about it.