Ask Cat: Help! A Boy Told Me He Loved Me On Our Second Date

Catherine Cohen is a comedian and actress. In her original show tunes, in her character videos, and on her popular podcast Seek Treatment (cohosted with fellow comedian Pat Regan), she skewers the clichés of millennial aspiration, deadpans about sex on antidepressants, and earnestly celebrates such triumphs as finding love or drinking seven beers. Her Netflix special, The Twist...? She’s Gorgeous, and her book, God I Feel Modern Tonight: Poems From a Gal About Town, are out now.

Have a question for Catherine? Send it to askcatherine@wmagazine.com for a chance to be answered in her next column.

A boy told me he loved me on our second date. How do I end things?

Oh my heart is rapidly expanding for the boy in question. As someone who has spun entire lifetimes out of minor eye contact with a man across a museum, I understand how love can come on suddenly and all at once. So of course I’m tempted to tell you to relinquish your ick, embrace the cringe, and lean into the delusion. How rarely does love come walking down the street towards us? Why not wave back? Accept the love being shone your way and kiss this person on a bridge in the rain or on a stoop in the sun. Let the summer caress you and let things fizzle in the fall. Oh how I suffer from joie de vivre! Is there a doctor on the plane of my existence?!

But alas, you know much better than I…having seen all my whirlwind romances fail spectacularly, destroy friend groups, and end in quiet animosity, I do think it is a wise choice to end things. To take this path simply tell this boy you are flattered, but you’re looking to take things slow and need to focus on yourself for a bit. Or, if that’s awkward, just lie and say you got back together with an ex. Works every time! Xo

I want to host more dinner parties, but I have no idea where to start. I find myself intimidated by all of the aesthetic photos I see constantly online—literally gorgeous vintage dishes, casual flower arrangements, what looks like perfect food. How am I supposed to throw a fabulous summer dinner party when my budget is hmmm zero and I don’t have like, Alison Roman’s entire oeuvre memorized?

Oh please who in the realm of reality even owns a full set of wine glasses?! I’m cosmically fabulous and everything I’ve ever bought for my kitchen is half-broken or has gone missing at the hand of a hungry ghost. Those aesthetic photos you see online are quite literally crafted to garner likes and jealousy. While fun can be had at an aesthetically pleasing event, aesthetically pleasing events do not guarantee fun. Cut to me alone at a gorgeous wedding talking to a blonde couple about the traffic in L.A. for twelve minutes.

Now I love your question because I adore nothing more than reclining at the table. My perfect night consists of heavy gossip and heavier pours. It’s giving Last Supper minus the subsequent betrayal/death. A perfect set of vintage pastel cocktail coupes are not what make a dinner party fabulous—it’s not even the food! No. One. Cares. About the food. Remember the blue soup from Bridget Jones’ Diary? It’s all about the invite list (people who can actually hang for once + people who don’t know each other but will vibe + people who may bring drugs), the music (I like to start with a mix of 70s folk and jazz standards…as the night unfurls lean into some disco, top 40 hits, and of course a bit of Taylor), the lighting (NO BIG LIGHT. Lamps and as many candles as you can safely light in your space), and a sense of possibility that the night could roll into the morning via dancing, karaoke, or simply a stroll to the local dive bar nearest you…

I also encourage dinner party GAMES. I don’t partake in games that involve cards or boards, because I have the attention span of someone who has been clinically addicted to her iPhone for twelve years. But I love a good game of Never Have I Ever or simply forcing everyone to go around the room and share the Rose (highlight), Thorn (low point) and Bud (something they’re looking forward to) of their week. Another fun game is “Is it a bop?!” in which everyone takes turns playing a song and if people get up to dance…it’s a bop. If not…it’s the next person’s turn.

When it comes to keeping costs low, there are a few options. A) Make it a potluck and ask everyone to bring a dish. B) Ask guests (via cute email invite) to each Venmo you like $15. C) If you want to do it solo: make a meatless pasta dish (this one is to die for) and a salad with just arugula, olive oil, salt and lemon. Bonus points if you throw some dill on it to make queen Allison Roman proud. Grab a bottle of gin for summer gatherings or whiskey for winter and some seltzer water. People will bring wine. It’s what people do!

I’ve been hosting weekly Shabbat dinners for a group of 8-10 at my apartment and now have more booze in my house than I ever thought possible. I also always have leftovers to eat for the next few days. Money well spent! I’ve never been an adult with a dishwasher, so I often use compostable paper plates/cups and recyclable aluminum cups. I let the appetizers serve as decoration (hunk of cheese + big cluster of grapes on a wooden cutting board = chic pickings of the gods) and lastly, if you do one thing I tell you, just put garlic and onions in a pan on the stove. It is the smell of love, of pleasure, of a solid dinner party.

Am I less in love than everyone else, or do people just exaggerate on Instagram?

Probably both! Of course people exaggerate on Instagram—it’s a website designed to make us compare and despair. And guess what? It works every time! I’m 31 and just cried because someone I haven’t spoken to in fourteen years owns a house with a clawfoot tub.

How sticky and endless reality seems when juxtaposed with a still-life contained in a sweet little square. These posts declaring love are so often just tools people use to make up for a fight they just had with their partner, to make their exes jealous, to get creeps to leave them alone because they are In A Relationship, or to show their family and friends that they are Doing Okay and Being Normal.

Real declarations of love are not always picturesque —making the bed in the morning, running out to get toilet paper at 11pm, taking the train 65 minutes uptown to see your partner’s quiet cousin in a play reading about a man who doesn’t get along with his father, giving them a foot rub, a glass of water, half a sandwich.

So yes, people exaggerate, but I say both because I wonder why you’re asking yourself this. Perhaps you are not less in love than everyone else, but less in love than you’d like to be. If I could tattoo anything on the forehead of my 27-year-old self I would choose the phrase “relationships can end without anything being wrong.” But perhaps your love is big enough to sustain you. Love does not always feel good or energizing, but if you’re talking the time to ask, maybe you’re needing something else. And that’s okay. Contrary to popular media, you could fall deeply in love with any number of people who currently walk the earth.

I’m 29 years old with a boyfriend and a masters degree and I don’t know what to do with my life. Help!

An artist I love, Hallie Bateman, recently made a clock that just says NOW where every number should be. I purchased three of them. I keep one on the mantle of my non-working fireplace in my apartment that I love even though it doesn’t have a freezer or a full-size fridge and the ceiling once fell onto my bed in a way that would have taken my life had I not been sitting on the toilet. It is not my dream apartment. Well, it was, once. But things change. We always want more, the next thing. But it’s where I live now and so it’s perfect. It’s where I am supposed to be. So, not to get all galaxy brain on you, but that clock is IT. All there is, is now. Your life is not a dentist appointment or a tax deadline, it is not something to be dealt with. Whatever you’re doing in this very moment is your life. So that’s the good news, there is nothing to be done. You are doing something with your life. The question is, is what you’re doing making you feel fulfilled? Not happy—that’s a cartoon feeling that pops as soon as the bubblegum loses its flavor. Maybe peace and fulfillment feels out of reach most mornings, but is there at least something you can look forward to every day? I don’t have everything I want at the moment, but I know that no matter what, I get to look forward to closing my eyes at the end of the day underneath a silky eye mask and playing my favorite podcast as I drift off to sleep. Oh fuck, it’s now o’clock, but you’re late for nothing, you’re exactly where you need to be.