a flow chart for finding romance

Fat Girl’s Guide to Finding Romance

By Savannah / March 15, 2019

Q. Dear Savannah,

I am 27 years old, 5’7” tall, and weigh 125 pounds. I’ve only ever had one boyfriend (we broke up after just a few weeks), and I know this is because I’m so obese. Although I’m a (reasonably) attractive brunette, have a master’s degree and a good-paying job, love sports, and have a good sense of humor, men just can’t seem to look beyond my weight problem.

I’ve become very depressed about this, and I wonder: am I destined to be an old maid?

Evelyn in Wyoming

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an orange tabby cat looks worried as an angry car looms over it

Online Dating Tips for Modern Women

By Savannah / March 1, 2019

Q. Dear Savannah,

I’ve been heartbroken since my divorce and honestly wasn’t sure how I would ever be able to cope with this unexpected situation.

However, being a smart, modern woman who reads Goop, I knew I needed to give myself plenty of time to mourn this failed relationship before plunging back into the dating world. After all, I’m not desperate. I have nothing but time to get over my broken marriage. I mean, I’m not one of those feeble women who feels “incomplete” without a man by her side. I have no fears of turning into a cat lady, although I will admit I visited the shelter yesterday and brought home a little orange fluffball I’m calling Mr. Pufnstuf. And I already have a call in to my brother-in-law, Sully, to come over and catify my house by installing three dozen shelves and forty upholstered cat trees to simulate a jungle environment for my adorable widdo fwuff doodle, not to mention we have to draw up plans for the 800 square foot catio addition so Mr. Googoopants – yes! yes, you little stinker! – can enjoy fresh air, sunshine and squirrel stalking without actually being outside, where he might get injured. I think we need a structural engineer and permits for anything that requires concrete footings, but then again it’s all worth it because this wittle furbaby will always love his mama, won’t he? Won’t he, my wittle purr factory? He won’t go tomcatting or run off with the first new fluffy tail that saunters through the neighborhood, wiw hims? Because if him does, him’s liable to get run down in the street and crushed to bloody smithereens under the tires of a white Lexus sedan with its license plate obscured, which would be exactly what that lying, cheating rat…or cat deserves. Oh, sure, they all look so cute at first, with their perfectly groomed fur and penchant for kneading your crotch in the middle of the night, but HIDE A TINY GPS TRACKER UNDER THEIR COLLAR AND DON’T THE CLAWS COME OUT THEN??

Anyway, I have been focusing 100% on getting over my divorce, taking plenty of time to heal and do yoga and meditate, and… I think I’m finally ready to date again! It’s been a good 23 hours since the divorce became final, and I’m starting to feel those wonderful stirrings in my heart. I’m thinking of trying online dating. Do you have any tips? I’ve already set up profiles on Match, Plenty of Fish, eHarmony, Elite Singles, Zoosk, OurTime and OK Cupid. Christian Mingle is not appropriate for me because I’m an anorexic or whatever.


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A woman sitting astride a gigantic Himalayan salt lamp

How to Soothe the Winter Blues

By Savannah / February 15, 2019

Q. Dear Savannah,

Living in Buffalo, NY, is bad enough under normal circumstances, but it’s pure hell in the winter. I never chose this. My husband insisted we move here 18 months ago for his job, but he can work anywhere – he’s an itinerant scrap dealer and earns cash by showing other men his junk.

This winter has been particularly harsh, and I’ve been cooped up in this apartment for weeks on end. I feel a strong urge to leave Doug and head for Miami, but meanwhile I am coping by consuming large quantities of aspirin to induce a brain bleed. What else should I be doing to ease my seasonal affective disorder?

Buffaloed in Buffalo

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An iron sits steaming next to a barbell

Bad Gay Valentine’s Poetry

By Savannah / February 1, 2019

Q. Dear Savannah,

Thanks to marriage equality, I was able to get hitched to the love of my life a couple of years ago. Gareth and I make an amazing couple because our strengths and weaknesses really complement each other. Like, he can bench press 185 pounds, and I can press a cotton shirt to wrinkle-free perfection in less than eight minutes. It’s scary how well-suited we are to each other!

This year, to celebrate our love, I want to pen my own Valentine’s Day poem to Gareth. Can you suggest some eloquent turns of phrase to help me open my heart?

Kitt, the preppy one

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a man in a mukluk riding a gigantic bottle of mouthwash

Dream Interpretation 101

By Savannah / January 18, 2019

Q. Dear Savannah,

It is cold up here in Atqasuk, Alaska, at this time of year. As a man living alone, I find it hard to fill the long, dark days. Oh, sure, I do the usual things to fend off the loneliness – playing strip cribbage by myself or writing bad love poetry in the snow when I have to pee.

Sometimes I try to sleep the whole day away, but lately I’ve been disturbed by crazy, recurring dreams. In one of them I am an engineer on a train that is approaching a dark tunnel surrounded by glistening bushes. My train speeds endlessly toward the tunnel, never reaching it. Eventually I wake up in a cold sweat, head to my medicine cabinet, and drink Listerine® until I temporarily go blind.

What can all this mean?


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a plump, bikini-clad woman surrounded by an iceberg while eating

How to Become an Influencer in 2019

By Savannah / January 1, 2019

Q. Dear Savannah,

Every year I resolve to get fit and lose a little weight, but I never stick to it. Last year, for example, I jumped out of bed on New Year’s morning and jogged to the lake to participate in the polar bear plunge, but it turns out you’re not meant to do this in the nude and, anyway, we don’t have a lake.

Despite my good intentions, no matter how hard I try I can’t break free from my lifestyle of getting two dozen Burrito Supremes® delivered by Uber Eats™ ten times a day and washing them down with bottle after bottle of cough syrup. I blame my weight troubles on the fact my mother never breastfed me, and as she told me recently, she’s not about to start now.

I’m desperate for some wise, empathetic life advice, but I’m writing to you instead.

Thanks in advance,

Valerie McMurtry

Pleasantville, IN

(You won’t print my name, will you?)

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Hire Yourself a Last-Minute Groom

By Savannah / January 21, 2001

Editor’s note: Back in the days when Yahoo! ruled internet search and AOL sent a CD to every man, woman, and child in America to entice them “dial up” their internet service, Savannah was dishing “advice” – like this selection […]

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