Bitches in Stitches

The Screening Process

2011-04-19T12:09:00.000-07:00

"Before I even kiss a boy, I ask him for his health history," a college acquaintance once explained to me.

And that's why you've never been so fortunate as to kiss a boy, I thought to myself, aware of the semi-evil judgement I had made.

It's unreasonable to expect any person of romantic interest (who you're about to kiss) to tell you when the last time he had the flu was, never mind let you know if he ever had pinkeye or strep throat as a child. While it might be acceptable to verify that you're both clean and STD-free before engaging in any intimate acts, it's really not possible (or even acceptable) to try to find out everything about that person before you cause sparks to fly under your bedsheets.

You can, however, screen people to some extent before you go on a first date. In fact, I highly recommend that you more or less follow a simple protocol before even agreeing to spend an hour having coffee. That's not to say that you should analyze their every word, try to find out too much or ruin any potential of mystery and excitement. But before you go and waste that precious hour of your time, there are some precautions you can take to make it more likely that you'll enjoy the person you're out with.

Now, keep in mind that I'm not currently dating or even as much as perusing online dating or matchmaking websites. Fortunately for me, a girl who still finds herself fascinated with this kind of thing, I have plenty of friends hopping from date to date, from restaurant to restaurant with different "suiters," if you will. By no means am I an expert, but back when I was dating online, I did learn a lot about what works and what doesn't in terms of finding a good date. It's all about trial and error. Fortunately, I've made the errors for you and was able to come up with this list of what you should and shouldn't do before meeting someone.

Here's what I learned about the pre-date lead-up:

1. Read your potential date's profile, and read it well. Thoroughly. All of it. Don't skip lines. If you do, you might just happen to miss that one deal breaker right away (like he doesn't want kids or he hates sushi) and have to spend two hours showering, washing your hair, drying it, straightening it, picking out clothes and putting on makeup, only to arrive at your local Starbucks and hear what he had clearly written out for you earlier. Take the time to read what he said, hope he's being honest and, if you still like him, continue on with the process.

2. How does he approach you for the first time? If it's an instant message, does he write you something sleazy like "HEY SEXY, I HOPE I CAN BE YOUR PRINCE" right off the bat? Or, does he take the time to write you something personalized and meaningful? Perhaps he asks you questions about YOU, or maybe he comments on something specific that he read in your profile. Either way, you can tell a lot about his approach to dating from your very first online conversation, whether via email or instant message or whatever it is. Anything too generic, at all offensive or too much about him equals bad news bears.

3. Make sure you've exchanged more than one email back and forth before accepting a date invitation. If it's only been one or two and a guy asks you out, how does he really know he wants to spend any time with you? Is he shallow and basing his assessment off of your looks? (God help him and let's hope that your photo is the real you!) Or is he just that eager to get a date with anyone he can so he immediately asks out whatever girl will talk to him? Perhaps he's just looking to get someone to go out with him so he can lull her in for an easy hookup after buying her a nice dinner. Who knows. But really, get a better sense of who he is via email before you jump into anything. Oh, and seeing how he writes doesn't hurt either. Not to say that you should judge someone on their spelling and grammar. I understand that not everyone in this world is fortunate enough to be well educated or even skilled in these areas. But, really, if you can't deal with it now, do you really actually think you'll grow to be able to deal with it in six months?

4. Always always ALWAYS talk on the phone with the person who you might be going out with before you agree to actually do so. I'm not talking about talking on the phone to firm up your plans; rather, I mean get a feel for them as a person, for their voice, for their way of speaking (and the way that they speak TO you) before you come up with any ideas for a date. We've all been there: we go to meet up with someone we thinks will be great, only to encounter them and learn that they have an exceptionally abrasive or just annoying voice that we just can't live with.

It's important to understand that this is not, by any means, a sure-fire plan to go on a successful date. There's so much more to find out when you actually meet the person-- a feeling that you'll get that can't be described in words. But, if you're careful and at least make some sort of attempt to weed out the countless men interested in you (YES, there are a lot. You just might not realize it.) then you'll find yourself out with a deadbeat who can't hold a conversation or speak his own language properly. Try to get the best sense of him that you can before meeting him in person.

And, as always, have a backup plan before the date. I hear your bestie tends to need you every time her dog comes down with a stomach issue...

Move Out and Get a Job. Really. It's Time.

2011-02-23T08:58:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure really why this seems particularly relevant today, but it's something that I've felt like writing about for a while. Be aware: you very well might be offended by this post. But, that said, if you are, it might be time to wake up and smell the coffee. This is reality, baby. And it aint necessarily pleasant.

It's often been said that my generation, the kids who grew up in the late eighties and nineties, are used to having everything given to them. I'm talking the kids who woke up to watch Care Bears and Inspector Gadget and played with Teddy Ruxpin and baked Creepy Crawlers. You know who you are. Not only that, but you know that a lot of you (NOT all, by any means, but a LOT, myself included) were given most things without having to work too hard for them. For example, we were always told we were winners, that we were superstars in most of our endeavors. And we were used to having things our way. It's known that people of my generation, more than those of any other, are considered whiners and people who complain when things don't go exactly their way. Experts attribute this attitude to the encouragement we received from adults, like all the trophies we all got playing sports, even when we scored in the wrong goal or had hissy-fits on the field.

In May, The New York Times published an article called "The Why-Worry Generation" by Judith Warner. (I hope it's clear that I'm just referring back to this and not that many months behind in my reading!) Honestly, I wish I could say the author's wrong in the way she portrayed us. She isn't. Overall, we are "entitled whiners who have been spoiled by parents who overtsoked [our] self-esteem, teachers who granted undeserved A's and sports coaches who bestowed trophies on any player who showed up." On the whole, we don't accept jobs that we don't consider "perfect" or "ideal," with the hours we want and the exact pay we have always expected. We tend to think our resumes are perfect, our credentials better than average and our performance stellar-- even when it's not.

Warner notes that perhaps people of my generation wait around for seemingly perfect opportunities because of their optimism, a trait usually considered positive. In this case, though, I'd argue that optimism to that degree is negative, too idealistic and, quite honestly, unrealistic. What happens when a person is so sure they'll get a great job that they're willing to wait around, not earning a living, for months (or, god forbid, years) on end?

Maybe some people call it optimism, but I call it "a cover-up for disgusting behavior." I think back to people of our parents', grandparents' and great-grandparents' generations. Did they sit home, living off of their parents' income, waiting for a job that they considered just right? Or did they take whatever job they could get, happy to be earning a living, grateful for their income which allowed for their independence?

All in all, I have to say that I'm horrified by many kids my age. There are exceptions to any rule, and I certainly understand that there are times when it's OK to be living with your parents or not earning money; daunting amounts of debt from education, illness, a tragic life crisis are all examples. But, what about the kids who are just plain lazy? The ones who turn down jobs because they're not exactly what they want? The ones who don't even bother to search for jobs in the first place because they'd rather live off of their parents until that dream position lands in their lap-- magically?

Now I'm not saying I make a lot of money (because I don't) or that I'm never the one complaining about having to go to work (because I am. Often.) But I was fortunate enough to be GIVEN an education, something I'm eternally grateful for. I'm capable of getting up to go to work every day, and so I do it-- six days per week. As a result, I'm able to pay my own rent each month, all of my bills and for all other things, both necessities and luxuries. (Sometimes, that weekly manicure or decadent sushi dinners are necessary... I think.) And you know what? It sure feels good to be independent. (I mean, don't we all want our parents to have zero hold on us? Or do we want them controlling our every move?)

So, to the people my age who don't work, don't pay their own rent or their own bills, I know it's not my business. It's not. Really. But it still annoys me and, on top of that, makes our entire generation look bad-- especially those of us who really do take care of themselves. We're not entitled to special treatment, no matter how much money our families earned and accumulated in generations past. It's not our god-given right to live off of unemployment and, really, shouldn't even be allowed unless we absolutely cannot find work. Beyond that, even if our parents are willing to give, give, give, it's NOT their responsibility. Let them enjoy their money, without having to support us. Did you ever think that maybe they have better things to use their income on than your dinners out and your expensive haircuts?

Think about it for a minute. Or an hour. Stop being lazy, Millennials. Try to do something for yourself, and then maybe even our society. Don't make hardworking people like your family members or me provide (directly or indirectly) for you. Be brave and learn how to write a rent check, pay the cable bill and grocery shop. It'll be worth it in the end. Trust me.

You Searched for WHAT and Ended Up on MY BLOG?!

2011-02-16T12:13:00.000-08:00

I’m not at all internet savvy, but one thing I do know is how to use the website that tracks who views this very blog. Don’t get freaked out—I can’t tell who you are. Identifying readers would require me tracking down your IP address and, let’s be honest, I have no idea how I would even start to do that besides just asking my brother to complete the process after giving him the number. (Is an IP address even a number? A code?) My capabilities boil down to this: I can tell how many people viewed my page, the time and date of their visit, what city they were in when they visited (or where their server is) and if they’re on a Mac of a PC. (I’d hope though that most of my readers are smart enough to be using a Mac.)

Anyway, there’s one other thing I can tell: how people got to my page in the first place. All I have to do is click on a link I find on my tracking site called “referrals.” Clicking this link brings me to a list of web pages that my last 50 or so visitors clicked on, via which they arrived at Bitches in Stitches.

To clarify let me give you an example. (NO, I don’t think you’re all idiots. I just know I can’t properly explain anything technological.) Say you see that I posted a link to my post on Facebook, as you might very well have a minute ago. You click my link and, TA-DAH, Facebook pops up as the page that referred you to my blog. Here’s where it gets interesting: when people find the page through a Google search, I’m also privy to their search terms that led them here. In honor of a dreadfully painful and slow Wednesday, I’m going to share with you some of my favorites. Boy, are they good.

In no particular order:

1. “Guy stop texting after 1^st date and why.”

Just a thought: Maybe he didn’t like you. Perhaps if you had to Google that you’re also otherwise so socially unaware that you don’t know how to dress for or behave on a date?

2. “Boy end girl sexy”

What does this even mean? Maybe you meant to write an “a” in front of “nd” instead of writing “end” but you sure as hell could have fooled me. Somehow, Google managed to guide you to the post I wrote about a boyfriend thinking another girl is attractive.

3. “Texting have a good trip”

Acid trip? Vacation to the moon? Relax. Maybe he literally just meant that he hopes you have a good trip. Or she hopes that. I have no way of even knowing who wrote that search query. But really, sometimes people genuinely mean what they say.

4. “Seeing someone and being in a relationship”

This search makes sense: most of us really don’t know what the difference is between “seeing someone” and “being in a relationship,” besides the fact that being in a relationship sounds more official and is more likely to piss-off an ex. (I’m not advocating that, just stating the truth!) Besides, I wrote a blog post with almost that exact title, so that makes sense that someone would wind up on my page.

5. “I need to find a goddamn boyfriend”

All I can say is that you better get off Google and either into the real world or onto an online dating site. Searching for Mr. Perfect on an online search engine doesn’t really do the trick. Sorry, but someone had to break the news.

6. “How to make a boy not be able to stop thinking about me”

Do you mean positive or negative thoughts? If it’s the negative that you’re referring to, I could certainly offer some suggestions. You could start off being a girl who trusts Google algorithms for dating advice.

7. “Bitches on dating sites”

I’m not sure if a person here was looking for true bitches (i.e. mean girls) on dating sites or for a girl who could be their “bitch.” But, regardless, really? I mean, really?! Either way, the searcher here isn’t up to any good.

8. “Craigslist whores”

Correct me if I’m wrong, but this search makes it seem like the person is the next Peter Markoff. Or they’re really just that desperate for a cheap lay. Again, another situation where the search really just couldn’t lead you to anything good. Well, besides my blog, of course!

That’s all for today. Here’s to hoping that I made you smile, even the teeniest bit, and brightened up your Wednesday!

Singles Awareness Day

2011-02-14T13:15:00.000-08:00

One of the worst days of the year has arrived. Along with my birthday, it's one of the days that I dread the most. It's one where, once it starts, I can't wait for it to end. It's Singles Awareness Day and it sure as hell aint pleasant-- even for those lucky enough to be attached.

Today's a day that, no matter how happy we are in our lives, always reminds us of our less than happy February 14ths of years past. Maybe it was last year that we were alone on the couch, shoving our faces with chocolate. Or perhaps we think back to that time five years ago, when we were newly single and spending the holiday vegging in bed, instead of out for a romantic dinner with the one who supposedly loved us. No matter what, I think it's likely that some of us have had a less than ideal Valentine's Day at some point or another. Since whenever we're miserable or even just unhappy it seems like the rest of the world is joyfully in love, we sometimes remember those bad days instead of focusing on what we have now.

Let me get something straight: there's nothing wrong with being single. In fact, if you're single you can potentially make Valentine's Day a really special, enjoyable holiday. (For anyone interested, I hear there's an anti-Valentine's Day party going on at my house tonight, complete with cupcakes...) If you've ever read my postings before, you know that I'm actually a big advocate for living the single life and enjoying all that it has to offer. In fact, there are many perks to being unattached that seem to slip away once we're committed. But, on a day like today, it often feels like everyone who is in a relationship is flaunting it in all our faces. Maybe it's that girl who got the box of chocolates delivered to her desk at work, or the guy who professes his love to his lady friend via a Facebook status. (Not acceptable, by the way. It's tacky beyond belief.) But, moreso today than on every other day, people throw their apparent happiness in our way. It often makes it seem like they're trying to trump our own happiness, as if theirs is better or more valuable than ours.

I think that part of me hates this holiday because it's fake. Fake because it's a Hallmark holiday (does anyone even really celebrate the saint who it's supposed to be about anyway?) and fake because people are over the top in their emotions and in their declarations of love. Am I wrong to think that we shouldn't NEED a holiday that encourages us to let others know how we feel about them? It's my own personal opinion that we should be making this sentiment clear each and every day of the year, not just on the 14th day of February. And, well, if you're only for some reason able to express this emotion on that day, then you better re-evaluate the situation you're in and recognize that you've got a problem.

Now, if you are attached, it really can be a nice thing to take a night to go out for a nice dinner or to just be in each others' company. I guess that the holiday gives us some incentive to be proactive and do just that; however, shouldn't we use this as a reminder that we should be doing that all the time if we're with someone we really care about?

On the flip side, maybe we should milk this day for all it's worth and extend it to ALL of the people we love and care about. I'm not just talking about all the people we're sleeping with (kidding) but to all of our friends and family members who mean so much to us. We should remember that even if this year we're happily committed to someone else, plenty of our friends and neighbors aren't this time. To all the happy people out there, I hate to say it but next year it might be YOU that's alone. So take a second and send some love, either via the phone, a visit, a card or a dancing and singing stuffed mouse, to someone who might be feeling down in the dumps today. Even if you're so fortunate as to be able to share the day with a romantic partner of some sort, taking the time to reach out to someone who doesn't have that luxury today might make your day the happiest.

Stop texting. Stop calling. STOP THINKING ABOUT ME.

2011-02-11T11:31:00.000-08:00

Most of us who have dated have been in this situation. We go on a date and we're not that interested in the man we went out with. Boy keeps calling and texting. Sometimes maybe we've responded, sometimes we persistently ignore him. But, however we respond, we know we're not being friendly and we're certainly not showing interest (even if he CONVINCES HIMSELF we're playing hard to get.)

Why is it, then, that sometimes a guy just doesn't get it? I know, I know, we're hard to resist. At times, at least. Other times (...of the month...) you couldn't pay me to be a guy near a girl. But really, why can't some men just take a hint? Not even just a hint, something alluded to or suggested, but a blatant FACT?

In case you're still unsure of exactly what type of situation I'm referring to, I'll provide you with some examples. One is my own personal experience from a serial-dating period of my life. The other a friend recently shared with me, while venting her frustrations and trying to figure out what the hell it is that this man doesn't understand!

Here was my scenario. I went out with a guy. Mistake number one: I met him at a local bar. But hey, we all make mistakes, and even though I should have known that his idea wasn't particularly appropriate (or appealing!) for a first date, I agreed to go. He looked like he could be handsome and he seemed smart, so why not?

I get to the date and, like a total gentleman, he's on time. But, let's just say that's about all he did right the entire night. (OK, he paid for my one rum and diet, but that was it besides that. I swear.) Now, I know it's not his fault that he was shorter than I am-- I'm 5'1''-- but it WAS his fault he said he was 5'5''. Either someone needed to re-take their second grade math lesson on measuring, or they needed to learn to tell the truth. But, that was something I could overlook (literally) and I obviously let the date proceed.

Problem was, I would have had to look past a lot more than that in order to be able to tolerate another date with him. This was a guy who I can promise is a self-described foodie. He'd been to most of the restaurants in our neighborhood, and all of the most famous places in town. But, of course, every time I'd share with him a place that I liked, he'd look at me with a judgmental glare or say "Oh, I don't really like it there" or "It's really not all that good there." Rude, yes. So bad that I couldn't tolerate an entire hour in his presence? Bordering on that, but I knew how to handle myself.

Needless to say, after he insulted all of my favorite places and proved that he couldn't carry on a conversation about anything besides food, I decided immediately that I wasn't interested. Per my own protocol, I wasn't going to answer his calls or his texts, and we certainly weren't going to become friends anytime soon.

I followed my own rules. He didn't get it. He kept calling and he kept texting. I got a few of those messages that were something to the extent of "Hey, this is J... I'm just um... calling to see how you are." Then I'd get the simple texts asking what I was up to or how I was. Over a month later, I got this email:

hey R,

So I'm going to assume that our lack of conversation over the past month or so is an indication that you aren't interested in speaking to me anymore. I'm a little surprised though because I really enjoyed the few hours I got to spend with you and I also remember you saying you were interested in being friends. Anyway, I just wanted to say I'm still interested in seeing you again, but I totally get it if you're not interested...I guess I'm just looking for some closure either way.

Happy Hannukah and have a good new year!

J

First off, I'm sorry that you need closure after one dinner. I really am. Because what happens if you've had, say, dinner AND a kiss with some girl and then she reveals that she's not interested? Do you need to be locked into an insane asylum to heal yourself? Maybe go live with the monks in Tibet so that you can find your inner peace and spirituality?

I've got to be blunt in a situation like this: Get a clue, dude, I don't want to be involved with you! If I did, I'd reciprocate your efforts to be in touch and maybe, just maybe, be interested in seeing you again. Would I really be playing hard to get for an entire month? Did it ever cross your mind that if I were to do that, I would know I was running the risk of losing you, clearly the love of my life, forever?

Something similar happened with a friend of mine this week. Long story short, she'd been on three dates with K. (Three dates definitely = marriage and living happily ever after, right? Duh.) Anyway, K took a trip overseas after those dates and, even with the seven hour time difference and exorbitant long-distance fees, texted and called her every day of the trip. Most times she didn't even answer or respond, but he kept at it. Honestly, I felt sad for him the whole time that he'd be focusing so much of his energies on a girl who was acting lukewarm toward him when, in theory, he could have been on an exotic beach being hit on by a much hotter-for-him sun.

Here's what happened when he got back: my friend decided she needed to make it clear that this wasn't going to go anywhere. No need to keep stringing him along because she wasn't about to pursue him (she had been dating another guy of much more interest anyway) and no point in hurting his feelings. So she did the classic "I'm not ready for this" bit and assumed he'd just GET IT and move on.

Bzzzzz, WRONG!

Text 1 from K after her explanation: i wish you wouldve told me before i left for for my trip, but i was starting to get that feeling

...half hour later...

Text 2 from K: not to beat a dead horse, but i cant wrap my head around this...why the change?

Here's my question: why are you beating a dead horse if you KNOW you are? And what do you think you're going to get out of it? Even moreso, why would you WANT to be with a girl who clearly isn't into you?

I think that some people just don't get it. There might not be a rhyme or reason as to why or what they don't understand, but they don't. More or less, it's a form of social ineptitude, if you will. If nothing more, girls and other guys can learn from reading about these experiences.

What can they learn? A few things:

1. Don't act (or be) desperate. Just don't.
2. If someone clearly isn't interested, back off. If YOU got it wrong and they're interested even though you think they aren't, they'll come looking for YOU.
3. You deserve to be with someone who really wants to be with you, not someone who ignores all of your efforts to get in touch with them.
4. A first date doesn't mean much. It's a first impression-- that's not only true but also important-- but it doesn't signify any kind of commitment or even true interest in the person. After all, you just met!

I'll end with one more thing. As the uninterested party we can't feel guilty. * We MUST at all times be polite, unless someone becomes verbally or physically forceful toward us. But you're not going to be with someone you're not crazy about (or, you shouldn't at least!) so no need to lead on a guy who's interested when you're not. Tell him you're done and move on. Eventually he'll have to, too.

*Note: we all end up on both sides of this equation at one point or another, we just might not be as dramatic as the people in the examples I listed)

Just Friends-- After Meeting on a Dating Site?

2011-01-19T11:39:00.000-08:00

Normally I don't like to read my work email during hours that aren't 8:30am-4:30pm on Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays or Fridays. A job-related problem came up last night as I was lounging on the couch in oversized sweatpants. I had to open up my dreaded inbox. Crisis averted after a few moments of panic and a couple instances of almost throwing up. Apparently, though, I wasn't the only one having a day of uncertainty; because I opened up my work email, I found that a work friend was having his own issue to deal with-- one that didn't involve work but that somehow found its way into my work email.

"Will you be in tomorrow?" he wrote. "I have a girl issue to discuss with you."

After a morning equally as stressful as my night, I finally found a second to catch up with friend to get the 411 on his situation. He explained that he had gone on a date. A really good date, for all that that's worth. I couldn't help but wonder what the issue was. Could he be like one of us girls who gets upset when things are going well for us? Was he about to sabotage something good out of fear of letting himself be too happy?

Yes, it was a good date and yes, they most certainly had a great time. They had such a fun time, in fact, that he really wants to go out with her again. Minor detail: he's just not attracted to her.

The problem was much simpler than I expected. The solution, on the other hand, might not be so easy to determine. Could he just tell her that he wants to be friends with her-- and then actually remain her friend? he wondered aloud. NO, I answered.

But why not? Why couldn't they just be friends?

Are you really looking for new FRIENDS? I asked him.

No, he answered.

I asked him if he thought that this girl was searching for more friends.

Negative. She wasn't and isn't.

This girl is on a dating site for a reason, and it aint because she's looking for another man friend to play Scrabble against on a Friday night. Sure, there are exceptions to this rule. Maybe sometimes we are looking for new friends; for example, we might be on the friend prowl when we've moved to a new city or we find that our group of friends has dissipated. But, in general, how often do you think people are really spending time on matchmaking sites without any intentions of finding romance and/or sexual partners? It's quite simple actually: dating sites are for that very purpose-- dating. Deep, I know.

Well, this friend wanted to know, what was my rationale behind my very solid opinion? I clearly had made a decision, and it wasn't based on the idea that guys and girls can't just be friends. (I'm a strong believer that they can be.) Past experience, though, has taught me that people who meet on dating sites (generally speaking) can't and won't develop friendships. Take, for example, the last time I thought that was possible. The guy and I became close "friends" and we hung out platonically dozens of times. But, each and every time we hung out, it became clearer and clearer that he had ulterior motives for our hangout sessions, whereas I really just wanted a guy friend to spend time with since I had just moved into the area.

Our "friendship" ended when he decided to attempt to pull a fast-one, but I ended that situation quicker than he could have ever imagined. Sure enough, he found himself a girlfriend a couple of months later because, after all, that was what he had truly been yearning for the entire time. (Disclaimer: no fault against him for wanting a romantic relationship with someone; I was the one who lost points for being the idiot to not see through his whole friendship act.) He had met me on a dating site for a reason and since I wasn't fulfilling his desires, he wasn't about to accept just friendship with me (a girl who he apparently was attracted to) while eager for more.

When I started to think about my coworker's situation, though, I realized that another occurrence had also influenced my point of view. Years ago when I was dealing with an on-again/off-again situation with a guy and things just weren't working out, I told him in one of those emotional, college-maturity ways that I thought we should just be friends. Funny thing is I was serious-- I really thought that.

His response?

"R, I don't NEED anymore friends. I wouldn't have been out looking for a girlfriend and gotten involved with you if I were looking for more friends."

I really believe that we can never have enough friends. That said, it's more important to develop deep and meaningful friendships, rather than stretch ourselves thin over dozens of "friends." (Same goes for how we shouldn't do that with members of the opposite sex!) But, this boyfriend's comment was the end to whatever we had between us. To be quite honest, I think it was the end of me thinking that guys and girls on dating sites (who found each other via this technology) can really end up friends. After all, if we were looking for more friends, would we really be going to the trouble to advertise ourselves as seeking romance?

Dating & Avoiding Technological Ties

2011-01-10T11:52:00.000-08:00

Almost a year ago I went out on a first date with a guy who lived in my neighborhood. As we were finishing up our afternoon tea (I never have had and never will have a cup of coffee!) he checked his vibrating phone. He'd received a BBM (a Blackberry Message, for those of you unfamiliar) from a friend. Points to him for not responding, although negative points to him for looking at all and for telling me flat out after I had asked that we couldn't be BBM friends. I thought I had made myself clear that I was kidding and that I didn't, in fact, actually intend on adding him to my list of contacts, but he didn't take it that way. In retrospect it seems like a slightly creepy request from me on a first date. (But, in retrospect, many choices I've made also seem like bad ideas. Like that guy first semester of freshman year of college, er um... THOSE guys freshman year in college...)

Date two rolled along and we started talking about Facebook. This time, boy explained to me that no, not only could we not be BBM friends, but also we weren't yet at the point where we could be Facebook friends. Blunt and just weird, right?

Most of my friends thought it was bizarre. They warned that he was certainly trying to hide something from me, something he didn't want me seeing as wee got to know each other more and more. He must have had scantily-clad women in his photos and countless girls making flirty comments all over his wall. After all, if he had nothing to hide, why wouldn't he just friend me?!

As it turns out, he didn't even have a wall. And he still doesn't. Well, he did for a brief second in time as an experiment, but then realized he didn't like what people were posting. "It's like me holding up a sign in public that screams that I'm about to have lunch with my friend or going to get my car serviced," he always explains. And, really, I can't argue-- he's right. Why should everyone who he accepts as a Facebook "friend" be privy to such personal or even such mundane information about his life?

In the end it didn't take him all that long to extend me the privilege of being his Facebook friend. I'd say that by date three he finally clicked the "accept" button, an action that allowed me to see his personal information and-- the real jackpot-- his photos... photos that cataloged his life for the past five or so years. It did take slightly longer for him to make it clear to me that he wanted me to himself, as his girlfriend who wasn't seeing other guys.

Now, months later, we're still dating, and I'm able to look back with a smile on how he handled the whole technological aspect of our new relationship. We're still not BBM friends (I kicked the BB to the curb months ago) but we do use Facebook together, mostly so that we can share photos from our adventures with family and friends. There really shouldn't be any big surprises that arise from this site at this point; the key to any good relationship is openness and communication, without which maybe I'd be finding photos of him posing with strange girls. And, to be honest, I don't find myself clicking on his page all that much, as any face to face interaction transcends whatever I could gather from his online profile.

The lesson I've learned though, is two-fold: yes, it's true that Facebook is a fabulous stalking tool. Of course the second he gave me access to his page I looked through the photos that people had tagged of him to see what his college life had been life, who he'd been hanging out with, which girls he'd been involved with. He happened to not have anything too racy, so his online persona didn't sway me one way or the other. But I also learned that maybe it wasn't a bad idea after all to make me wait it out for a couple of weeks and just get to know him via in-person dates, phone calls and emails. That way I got to know the real him, the one who I still see regularly and not the version that Facebook might portray him as. (Think about it for a second-- most people's pictures online are from when they're out with friends, usually partying or drinking or being social to some degree, just because that's when people have to have cameras around. Doesn't mean they're always like that, but rather just that's when people snap the most pictures!)

As for not letting me be his BBM friend-- that much, I still don't know. From what I understand he was afraid that I'd turn into that annoying girl who expected constant contact, even when we were apart. Of course I made this possible without the use of a Blackberry (Kidding. No, really. I'm joking.) but, in all honesty, I see his point. No need to be THAT connected-- texts, emails and calls really should suffice when you're not together. I'd say that if they don't then you've got a real problem and it's really time to cut the Facebook ties and, well, all ties for that matter because girl (or boy!), it's time to be independent!

Lying to Dates

2011-01-03T06:32:00.000-08:00

I think it's pretty clear that I usually don't condone lying. After all, I was the one who spent an entire post ranting about my ex-friend who I not-so-nicely called out for having fabricated a life of lies. I mean, why wouldn't I believe that she was commuting to Manhattan for a glamorous internship at The Food Network when her mommy wouldn't really let her drive to the bagel store in our town alone? And, what's more, of course she had an extremely devoted boyfriend who she'd travel extensively with-- even though she wasn't allowed out of her house in suburban Connecticut past dark and happened to be spending her nights navigating from one Jdate profile to another. All adds up. Sure.

Anyway, I just realized an instance where I wholeheartedly believe that it's ok to take this really disgusting practice of lying and put it to good use. Mind you, I'm not talking about all-out lies; rather, I'm hinting at the fact that it's OK to sometimes craft a white lie here or there in order to spare someone's feelings. Really, it's only OK when there's no risk of the situation escalating for the worst or for any involved parties to find out. And it has to be helping someone or sparing their feelings, not for any other purpose.

I realize I'm speaking pretty abstractly so I'll go ahead pinpoint the instance that I have in mind where it's alright to fib a little. This whole train of thought started earlier today when I was talking to my friend who's currently out and about on the dating scene in New York, M. M was briefing me on her dates of the past weekend and noted that she had gone out with someone rather dull. He was a nice guy, but someone she had no interest in pursuing due to a lack of chemistry or, OK, fine-- just his inability to generate interesting conversation. The day after the date (where he took her for cupcakes but not coffee or tea because he's opposed to caffeine but somehow not sweets) he texted her saying how he had a great time and was pretty sure she felt the same.

Lesson for men: don't ever assume that your date felt the same way as you did. Just don't. Women can be deceivingly great actresses, so try to avoid putting words into their mouths.

Lesson for women: you have two ways of handling this situation where you clearly aren't interested in laying eyes on him but where he wants to lay a hell of a lot more on you. You can be direct and say something to the effect of "I think you're a really great guy, but I just didn't feel any chemistry." Conversely, you can lie. And by lie, I mean just concoct some sort of BRIEF yet fictional line that explains why you have no interest in pursuing him further. If you choose the second option, the most common excuse (see, not lie, but EXCUSE!) is that you're just getting over a relationship or painful breakup and you're not really so keen on dating yet.

In this instance, I actually think it's beneficial for both parties when the girl just tells a simple fib. First off, the guy gets the point. (Well, we hope he gets the point. We've all had situations where-- OH MY GOD, does he even speak English!? What is he missing here!?) We're giving him the chance to move on and find someone who likes him just as much as he likes them, because most people in life deserve that.

Second, we're sparing his feelings. Sure, most men can handle being told that there's no chemistry because it doesn't mean they're a bad person or boring or dumb or ill-mannered. But, of course, some people take it personally, even if it's not at all-- myself most certainly included.

In addition, we're helping ourselves. We're ending things with him (even if they haven't really yet begun) and we're doing what's best for ourselves. Never should we be on "sympathy dates," or out with someone just to not hurt them. If it's not right, end it. Immediately. You're not helping anyone by keeping something worthless going. And if you're going to end it, there's no reason to bruise his ego. Let him think it's about you-- be the bad guy. You're not hurting yourself and you're not hurting him, other than the fact that he won't get the chance to go out with you again.
Important note: If you're deep into a relationship, stupid excuses like those I mentioned won't work. After all, I'd hope by that point you know each others' dating histories and that you wouldn't have committed in the first place if you weren't that into him. But, after a date or two, he doesn't know much about you and you don't know much about him. You don't really owe him anything other than common courtesy, and although lying isn't courteous, it's not kind to tell him that you think he's the most boring person on earth. That's even if he spent the entire date listing his food allergies.

I vote that you spare his feelings and make it seem like your lack of interest in him isn't ABOUT him. No need to hurt him, but there's a reason to let him go and find someone who's really digging him. So fib, make it clear that you're not interesting in dating him further, and move on. Maybe, just maybe, you won't have to with the next guy who pops into you life.

Online Dating-- In Public

2010-12-22T07:59:00.000-08:00

On the way to work each day I stop at the same Starbucks near my office. And every day, for the past few at least, I've seen this guy at the bar, "working" at his computer. Seems normal, right? Until you notice what he's doing. No, he's not watching porn or looking at erotic images. Conversely, he's not doing anything seemingly normal, like applying for jobs or reading The Economist. So what's he doing? He's online dating. In a Starbucks. During peak rush-hour coffee addict traffic.

I need to make it clear that this man is not sitting in the back of the store in some corner, hidden by a bazillion other customers. He's not even at a table. He's literally sitting at the bar that parallels the line of people, waiting ever so eagerly for their hot cup of caffeine. Not only that, but he's seated on a higher platform than the customers standing on the ground. That's how I was able to see this guy in the first place. And that's how I've been able to entertain myself while I've had to so painfully wait in line for two whole minutes every day.

Maybe that doesn't sound interesting, but let me assure you that it is. Not only do I know what this guy is doing (trying to pick up pornstar-esq chicks posing suggestively in their profile pictures) but I also know HOW he's doing it. He uses a site called datehookup.com. First he finds his targets. Then he emails them, explaining that he comes "from a wealthy family." Not what I'd want to read in an initial email from a random stranger, but it turns on some girls, so all the power to him.

Much to his credit, though, he's careful and he's organized and even methodical in creating these potential dating connections. I mean, I consider myself to be disgustingly organized in some regards, but I was never this good with online dating. This man creates a folder on his desktop for each and every woman he's in contact with. He saves their emails and drags their photos into their respective files. Impressive, honestly, especially after having forgotten countless names, occupations and life aspirations of many of the men I spoke to online over the years. Sorry, but if I've never met you, I'm not going to remember your name or job. But I might remember your dog's name or where your sisters live. I'm weird like that.

I agree that it's creepy, though, that I know all this about this random dude who frequents the same Starbucks as me. But, at the same time, I think he's asking for it. When he's sitting with his screen facing the crowd, you know, with sexy (or trying-to-be-sexy) women blown up on his screen, he's asking for onlookers. And when DATEHOOKUP.COM flashes ever so brightly, who WOULDN'T look out of sheer curiosity? I don't know this man, have no personal attachment to him, haven't even spoken to him, so in theory I shouldn't care what he's doing. But it's interesting-- I mean, who really would choose to do this in public? And, who isn't curious about how other people pursue online dating?

Usually online dating is an activity that we take on inside the privacy of our own homes. On occasion you'll find a coworker scoping out their options while inside their cube (also a no-go) or maybe you'll be invited to look online with a friend to help her weight her options. (Because I'm so cool, a friend and I used to spend time online on Friday nights looking at all the guys who were contacting us, and then we'd share our opinions with each other.) But in a coffee shop? Really?

Be careful where you are when you online date. I'm serious. Or else you might end up with someone like me blogging about you. (But, in all seriousness, Mr. Mystery Man, thanks for entertaining me each morning. Stay at it and maybe you'll find your match.)

The Disappearing Act

2010-12-07T10:29:00.001-08:00

It happens all the time. Girl goes out with boy. Boy and girl both have fun. It seems like they share a “special” connection. Both go home smiling. Maybe they share another night out. Maybe not. Boy never calls girl again. Girl wonders what happened. Boy never tells girl. Girl never finds out answer. Story ends.

It's all too common yet I hear this recurring tale from girls' perspectives all the time. "We had everything minus our mothers in common!" they exclaim. "It went perfectly and I was never so comfortable in my life on a first date!" others tell. What they all wonder, no matter how they're phrasing it and regardless of how they proceed with their lives, is WHY. Why didn't he call? Why didn't we ever see each other again? Did I misjudge the situation? Am I really actually not so accurate when it comes to reading people and did he not actually have fun?

Well, ladies, it's a harsh reality out there: sometimes, you just won't know. You'll never know. Ever. Maybe it sucks, maybe it frustrates you, maybe you want to know what went wrong so that you can finally sleep again or know that it wasn't entirely your fault. But you can't. Sometimes there's no way of knowing. And that's just life.

I've been in this situation many times myself. Sometimes I've found out the honest answer, like when a close guy friend who I seemed to gel with perfectly told me flat out that he's "just not attracted" to me. At the time I was offended; in retrospect, not so much. It was honest. Blunt, hurtful (although out of my control) but honest. Had we not been such close friends as well, I think in that instance that statement would have explained why, even though we connected well, we didn't end up dating.

Likewise, I've also dealt with the Houdinis of dates-- the guys who pull the mysterious disappearing act for reasons that I've never know, only to magically pop back into my life weeks or months later. Maybe they've reappeared with the intentions of scoring more dates with me, or maybe they've just wanted a booty-call. I usually imagine that they've tried out some other girls (perhaps unsuccessfully) and are trying to revert back to me, their second, seemingly safer option. But, let's face it, I no longer want to see you again, no matter how much I felt like we connected in the past. You've already proven to me that you're not reliable or, really, all that serious in pursuing me.

A strong emotional spark means a lot and there's no arguing that, but it sure aint everything. Dependability, on the other hand, represents a greater part of the equation than we usually imagine. So you've got some amazing things in common, but does it ever really matter if he doesn't call when he says he will or never initiates plans with you?

Yes, we can sometimes learn from our mistakes but, quite honestly, when a guy just fades away, there isn't always something to gain from knowing why. I'm a believer in constructive criticism, even when it hurts, but sometimes, like in many of these situations, there's nothing really constructive to say. Maybe he's just not interested or perhaps he just has bullshit commitment issues and is scared to actually get into a serious relationship.

Knowing about any of his personal mischegas (the Yiddish word for BS) won't help YOU. You might even find yourself wondering if you can convince him otherwise or help him in some way. But don't. Just don't. Take it for what it is: it wasn't meant to be. If he wanted to date you he'd make it a point to call you and make plans and treat you well and impress your friends and family. Maybe in the future he will be ready, and he might come crawling back. It's then up for you to decide if you want to get involved or not. That's when you have to weigh the evidence and go with your gut.

It's comforting when we have answers. It really is. Especially when we know things happened because they were out of our control (even as frustrating as that can be) because we know that we didn't do anything wrong to precipitation the situation. The fact of life is that we don't always have answers. Just like we don't know how the world came to be or why Bill Clinton ever thought it would be a good idea to bang Monica Lewinsky (couldn't he have done better?!), we don't always stop dating someone with full knowledge as to why things went down the way they did. (Not him on you, sickos! And, if that is what I'm referring to, maybe your answer is that you just didn't smell that clean. If so, take care of that now, missy.)

Speculating isn't worth our time. Making an effort to find someone reliable and respectful is. And it's important to remember that.

Being grateful for what you have.

2010-12-06T11:27:00.001-08:00

This weekend was supposed to be a good one. And it was. It just didn't start out that way. Let's just say I was supposed to spend Friday night to Sunday night celebrating my boyfriend's birthday in New Orleans. Due to a missed flight in Philly (thanks, US Airways, I love you!) I ended up spending the night there and not scoping out all of the trash (human and not) in the Who Dat Nation.

So I'm sitting on the plane to Philadelphia, watching the seconds tick by on my phone (using airplane mode, don't worry) and realizing that no way in hell am I ever going to make my connection to NOLA. The plane finally lands after having left the gate 15 minutes late, hanging out on the tarmac for 45 extra minutes and then circling around Philadelphia and-- yep-- my connection had already left. Not only had it left me, but it also left 11 other lucky souls-- so lucky, in fact, that they were able to witness my near hissy fit when I found out that we had just missed the final flight to Louisiana for the night. It became clear that I was going to be spending the next 12 hours in a dreary airport hotel room, when really I should have been down south taking jello shots and collecting Mardi Gras beads.

That was until I met my N, who I'll call my"new best friend." N had been sitting behind me on our delayed flight and happened to be heading to the same final destination as I was. We bonded as we battled the incompetent morons who sat picking their noses and rolling their eyes from behind the "CUSTOMER SERVICE" desk. When we both realized that no supervisor would actually be arriving after we requested one about nineteen times, we decided to make the best of the situation: have dinner, get rooms in the same hotel, make sure we both woke up for our early morning flight and have breakfast together. And so we did.

I'm not going to lie, but our dinner felt like a first date. A first date gone relatively well, mind you. Too bad we weren't looking to date each other; rather, we were both stuck in this miserable location when we were both really supposed to be in the south visiting our boyfriends who temporarily both have moved from our home city there to work. But, as far as girl dates go, this one was as good as it could have been. In fact, we had a lot in common, and if I had to choose someone to be stranded in an unfamiliar city with again, it might actually be her.

What I didn't expect, though, was that I'd actually learn something at dinner. My boyfriend, C, has been away training for business in Arkansas. N's boyfriend, a civil engineer, is temporarily in New Orleans, working on some sort of flood wall project. C is gone for 3 months. N's boyfriend, when he finishes up the project, will have been gone for two years. After I heard that, I began to recognize a lesson learned about long distance relationships:

It could be a lot worse. And I really mean A LOT worse. What if, god forbid, I were with someone off at war in Iraq? The worst thing I have to worry about is that my boyfriend is going to come home addicted to fried catfish, but not if he's going to come home at all. I'm so lucky, I realized, that this is temporary and, what's more, that he's in my life at all. So for all those moments when it feels lonely to have a partner away for business or something else equally as trivial, I've realized that we all need to be reminded how lucky we are. Some people aren't fortunate enough to ever know when that special person in their life will ever come home. And, more people than not aren't even lucky enough to have someone they even consider special in their life at all. Maybe I got a little of the south in me when I was there this weekend, but really, kids, [insert southern accent here] count your blessings. You've got more to be happy about than you think and, more often than not, you're not in the worst situation possible. Doesn't mean it's not a hard circumstance, but plenty of people have it so much worse-- and their version of worse might be forever.

My dinner date also made me recognize how great it is to learn about your own strength and independence when the one you love is so far away. N started telling me how she rarely complains about her boyfriend being absent, mainly because of the reason I listed above and because she knows she can handle being on her own and having her own routine. What drives her insane, she explained, is when her girlfriends will call her upset because their boyfriends are gone for a couple days on business or for a family function over a weekend. Funny how it's the same thing that makes me crazy. Together we decided something: if you can't handle your man being away for a couple of days then you've got a problem. A serious problem. It's called co-dependence. Be grateful you're in a loving relationship if you are and that your circumstances are only temporary. Then tough it out like a real woman.

They say "distance makes the heart grow fonder," but after my lengthy discussion with N I've come to the conclusion that distance makes the mind grow stronger. It's important to learn how to be independent, how to go out with friends and spend time apart from your significant other, no matter how much you love them or are in love with them. I've realized that I look down upon people who can't do that, people who complain about a couple of days apart from their relationship. And I've learned that some space can be the most special and magical thing of them all.

My boyfriend thinks that girl's sexy and I... AGREE!?

2010-12-01T11:19:00.000-08:00

My disclosure: Some of you are going to be weirded out by this post. Not only that, some of you are going to think I’m crazy—which I may very well be. There’s a slight chance you might agree with what I’m about to say, but it’s unlikely. I encourage you to share your thoughts either way.

I’m going to throw this out there: I don’t get offended when a boy I’m dating comments on the level of attractiveness or sex appeal of some other girl. I don’t throw a girly fit, snap at him or threaten to break up with him. In fact, I do the very opposite: I’m willing to engage in thoughtful discussion with him about it. I mean I guess maybe thoughtful isn’t the appropriate word—is a conversation about judging someone’s appearance really that detailed, serious and important?

You might wonder if I get jealous when my boyfriend tells me he finds another girl attractive. The answer is no. I don’t get jealous whether he sees her on the street and makes that comment. Nor do I care when I show him a picture of a girl that I personally think is cute or pretty or sexy or hot and he responds with an affirmative opinion.

Likewise, I don’t find some secret pleasure if and when a guy that I’m with points out an unattractive girl on the street. Actually that evokes the very opposite reaction for me—why would I want to be dating someone who is evil enough to comment on the heinous nose of a girl he doesn’t know or on some stranger’s botched haircut!? Sure, like any girl, I can admit that I do experience a little pleasure when anyone close to me has an opinion aligned with mine, especially if it’s about a particularly unkind girl and her dreadful appearance.

I know that some people will argue that I’m objectifying women here. There are always a few people in every audience who claim that the person speaking is objectifying women or men or animals or SOMEONE. To clarify, I believe in starting a thoughtful (again, not MEAN but rather constructive) dialogue about a person’s aesthetics.

In my sick and twisted mind, I justify this viewpoint as being the same as looking at a piece of art. Just like a Monet or a Picasso, a woman can be beautiful, exotic, unappealing or simply hideous—with many other things in between. If I were in an art museum with a boyfriend, I’d value and seriously consider his opinions about the pieces hanging on the walls. Why, I wonder, should this differ from any human face or body, essentially works of art in and of themselves? Why shouldn’t I be interested in my partner’s opinion on that as well?

The truth is, if you’re comfortable in your relationship, you shouldn’t take issue with the fact that your significant other finds someone attractive. If you’re worried that because they find them attractive it means they want to run out to a Motel 6, rent a room for an hour and screw them, then yes, by all means, you do have a problem. But if you believe that, maybe you shouldn’t be in that relationship at all.

Face it, people: even when we aren’t single, good looking and ugly people alike still exist. Just because we find someone attractive doesn’t mean we’re attracted to him or her. And, even if we were, it doesn’t mean we want to bang them for hours on end.

So get over it. If your man tells you on occasion that some other girl is good looking, take the comment for what it is and move on. (Granted, it’s a different situation if he’s constantly commenting on other women or if he fails to ever compliment you.) If you really find his comments worrisome, don’t bother shrieking, hissing or withholding sex for weeks on end. Then it’s just time to evaluate the level of trust in your relationship and really consider if this is someone you want to be with.

Just when I thought girls would grow up...

2010-11-10T08:34:00.000-08:00

It was that moment that most women dread every year: the annual checkup with our doctor. As if it’s not annoying enough to hear about all the vitamins we should or shouldn’t be taking, all the unpleasant tests we’ll have in the coming years, we have to be weighed. Maybe it doesn’t sound like a big deal but, for people who are at all concerned with weight management, having to face “THE NUMBER,” especially in front of a medical professional, proves especially daunting, uncomfortable and anxiety-provoking.

So this year, it didn’t help when I mentioned to the doctor that I’m slightly concerned with THE NUMBER. Sure, I’m in great shape and it’s not like my diet include McDonalds or even regular trips to the bakery. But, as is the case for most people, my habits leave something to be desired and there is certainly room for improvement. So, in considering all this, I asked my doc, a female in her mid-thirties, if I should be concerned with what the scale told us.

“No,” she answered, “not really. I mean, we don’t really start to talk about gastric bypass until your BMI reaches a 33 or so.”

GASTRIC BYPASS. The words echoed in my head so forcefully that I really thought it might explode. I glared at her, gripped my stomach and asked “If you were going to do gastric bypass on me, WHAT WOULD YOU EVEN TAKE OUT!?” I was clearly referring to the fact that I’m a healthy size six. That’s less than half the size of the average woman in America!

Needless to say I came home from that appointment shocked, horrified and, of course, a little anxious. No one in my life had ever mentioned that phrase to me in connection to my own body. Why now, especially when it’s clearly so inappropriate considering my physical presentation?

After I finally calmed down, I called a guy friend who I confide in regularly.

“Rach,” he said, “it’s so obvious. It’s sick but it’s clearly that whole catty girl mentality,” he explained. He then went on to ask if the doctor is small or large herself, to which I noted that she’s actually heavyset. It then clicked: yes, the competitive relationship between girls has even entered the clinical setting. For all this doctor knows, I could be a vulnerable girl who, while concerned about my weight, also isn’t the most mentally stable. She could have been “encouraging” my weight loss while also promoting self-destructive or even deadly behavior. Fortunately for her, I’m confident enough to know that I don’t actually have a problem and that, yes, my friend was right: her competitive female behavior penetrated the doctor-patient relationship.

I would have liked to think that a doctor would have more common sense and decency when conversing with a patient. I would like to think, for that matter, that any grown woman would know how to speak to other women with kindness, dignity and respect.

Boy am I wrong. Other recent examples have proved how wrong I really have been.

I work in an office surrounded by many other women. It’s a fabulous place to work and the company really treats us well. Unfortunately for me, not all of the women treat each other with the same standards as the company does. More and more, I’ve learned that this competitive, catty and flat out BITCHY behavior also applies to working professionals in big companies. Apparently my interaction with my doctor was not some of anomaly-- some women are just mean to each other for trivial or even non-apparent reasons. And that’s a fact.

I’ve recently been noticing that a group of these women (all of whom work in close proximity to my cubicle) have decided that it’s OK to not only comment negatively on my performance, but to also stab me with nasty remarks when it seems that no one else is listening. After our manager said that I should use one of these women’s printers, the employee lectured me sternly, saying how she HOPES I’m not “using that printer out of convenience.” That little comment was followed by a barrage of questions about my own printer and whether I was just using hers because mine wasn’t working. At this point I had (foolishly) assumed that offering to purchase her ink and extra paper would be enough, but it seems that she was more interested in having a reason to reprimand me than to accept me printing a page or two at her desk.

Today, another co-worker (also female) shot me back a nasty, three sentence email about how I was so inappropriate to state to a colleague that she was “working from home” for the day. Perhaps that was an over-share on my part, maybe it was not something I should have disclosed. But would I have cared if she had told someone else that if I were doing the same if I truly were? Of course not. Again, another prime example of an angry female just scanning for reasons to condemn a younger, more vulnerable female’s behavior. Fortunately for me, I know that I have my youth, whereas all these women have is the ability to gossip and whisper in front of my face every day. (Yes, they do. I swear.)

What do I make of all of this? I’ve decided that I need to take it all in stride. Girls will be girls no matter what age they are. Such spiteful behavior isn’t acceptable or appropriate, even more so in a work or clinical setting, but it happens. It’s important to not over-analyze these situations or to dwell on them, but it’s also necessary to recognize that there’s a reason that grown women like these choose to pick on others. Maybe they’re jealous of my age or my work capabilities, who knows. Regardless, it’s important to step back and recognize that sometimes the younger (and skinnier!) person can be the bigger person. It’s comforting to know that even if they’re putting on their antics so regularly, I’m still going to treat them with kindness and not let them know they’ve upset me.

My best friend’s mom used to tell her this as a kid and I think it still applies: “I am rubber and you are glue. Whatever you say bounces off of me and sticks to you.” Take that, ladies, and grow up.

Facebook: Making Breakups More Painful

2010-11-04T11:25:00.000-07:00

Today I was talking to K, a close friend, about how Facebook makes breakups even more devastating than they already are. There's nothing worse than already being heartbroken than to have 65 of your acquaintances bombard you with emails, texts, gchat messages and calls asking what happened. They're looking for answers about what went wrong when... OH YEAH, you're wondering the same thing. Read below for a truly passionate, heartfelt analysis of how Facebook really complicates an ended relationship even further.

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R has kindly allowed me to hijack her blog for a post about breaking up in the age of Facebook. Children of the early 80s such as myself (I’m actually 3 years older than Mr. Facebook, Mark Zuckerberg) are in the unique position of having experienced serious breakups in both the pre- and post- Facebook universe. Having just experienced an especially soul-crushing breakup, I’m here to explain why Facebook makes the entire experience a thousand times worse.

First, a brief word of background. We fell in love. We moved in together. We got engaged. We set a date, I bought a wedding dress. He ended it and threw me out. I moved back in with my parents. That about sums it up.

Background out of the way, let me launch into why Facebook makes this situation even more unbearable.

1) The Shame Quotient

In a pre-Facebook world, I grant you that a lot of people would have known that I was engaged. I would have told many of my friends about my wedding dress, as well as other details of my wedding and generally how happy and in love I was. But would 500 of my closest acquaintances, frenemies and ex-boyfriends have been privy to that information? Most definitely not. Part of me thanks God that the ex decided to drop this bomb before the Save the Dates went out, but really, would recalling those be any more shameful than changing my Facebook relationship status? Changing one’s relationship status is akin to saying to everyone you’ve ever met in your life, “Remember how I used to be really happy? Remember how I posted over and over that I was going to be with this person forever? Well I was really really wrong and stupid, ok?”

I will say that I have appreciated the outpouring of support from many members of my Facebook community in this difficult time in my life. But I can’t help but think of every frenemy and ex that I never bothered to de-Friend who must be experiencing no small amount of schadenfreude every time I post a comment expressing my sadness and pain. I could start de-Friending people, but they aren’t really the people that have wronged me, and I don’t actually know what they are thinking. So instead I just live with the shame of thinking about what they might be thinking every time I feel the urge to post.

2) The Ex Factor

Even if you do decide to start culling people to limit your shame, that brings you head to head with the second big issue of the Facebook age: de-Friending the ex. In the old days, once you’d moved out, paid the last utility bill, and had him mail all the stuff you forgot to pack, you had to make an active effort to keep him in your life. That’s not to say that plenty of drunken “why don’t you love me?!?!?” phone calls didn’t occur. But those calls did not give you the all-access pass into What He’s Doing Now You’re Gone that Facebook provides without any effort on your part. Especially when your ex, like mine, is an active user of not only Facebook, but also FourSquare. There’s nothing quite like signing into Facebook in your pajamas at 6:30pm to find out that your ex is currently enjoying a night out at one of the fanciest restaurants in your former hometown. Facebook and FourSquare allow you to bypass the pesky logistical and moral details of stalking someone and let you to launch straight into the crazy that results when you know more than you should about his life After. Before you know it you’re overwhelmed by questions of “how can he be over it so fast? Has he found someone else? DID I MEAN NOTHING?!?!?!”

So you decide that you don’t want to be Crazy Stalker Lady and that you should un-friend him. But now removing him entirely from your life, Facebook-style, has become as active an effort as keeping him in your life was pre-Facebook. Un-Friending forces you to confront all the tiny little breakup voices still lurking in your head. “But what if he posts that he really misses you right after you block him?” one voice might whisper. “Isn’t it better to know what he’s doing than to wonder?” another voice (posing as the voice of reason) might argue. To de-Friend requires a Herculean effort to shut out all the little voices, a task that is often beyond the recently dumped.

And if you have been together a long time (living together three years and friends before that for two more, for example), de-Friending him is only the tip of the iceberg. What about the hundreds of mutual friends that you share? Some are easily categorized as His, but most you don’t want to lose just because he dumped you. But as long as you are friends with them, there is a chance he will continue to infiltrate your Facebook world. And what about photos? In the old days, it was a simple matter of either shoving the photos in a box under your bed or making a little funeral pyre for them (depending on your flare for the dramatic). But now your photos represent Who You Are to the Facebook world. Deleting all the ones of you and him together, or you participating in things you did together, means essentially deleting the last 5 years of your life. You don’t want the world to think you just didn’t exist for most of your twenties, even if, looking back, you wish you had existed a little bit more without him. And if you aren’t going to delete the photos and you aren’t going to un-Friend mutual friends, unfriending him becomes essentially an exercise in futility.

I realize this post is going to out me as a crazy lady to many people, including many people who have no idea who I am. I think bad breakups make all of us a little crazy. I would appreciate any suggestions as to how to keep Facebook from making the little bit of crazy a little bit worse.

I ended it with him... not because he's a pest but because he HAS pests!

2010-10-27T11:20:00.001-07:00

A couple of years back, my close friend was plagued with the roommate from hell. No, she wasn’t bringing back strange men, drugs or stinky food. In fact, she wasn’t bringing back anything to their apartment. She just thought she was. She was convinced she had infested their space with bedbugs.

At the time, a couple of years ago already, her incessant fears seemed ridiculous. Bedbugs!? Her bumps on her legs could easily be explained by irritation caused by shaving. And those night itches? Those could certainly be explained by anything at all that causes itching, not just bedbugs.

The situation spiraled out of control when my friend would wake up at 5:00am only to find her roommate sealing all of her clothing in plastic bags. She was struggling to keep those imaginary little critters off of her linens and, as far as we know, she was successful: she never really did have any bugs. We ultimately recognized her insanity when she called her mom as she was packing for a trip to Italy. She panicked that not only her bugs would follow her to Europe, but also that it would be her fault that the entire continent would later be infested.

Crazy? Yes. Unusual fears for then? Certainly. But now in 2010, with a bedbug crisis pervading through most of New York, does her behavior still strike us as insane? Perhaps a little, but definitely not as much as it was back then. I guess we could argue that she was ahead of her time, but I think that I’d still say she represents a psycho-roommate.

In 2008 it was absolutely a little nutty to be freaking out about potential bedbugs and even crazier to have to listen to your roommate stress about them. Who would have thought, just two years later, that her irrational fear would become a rational one for countless people? And now this fear doesn’t just involve roommates, but also boyfriends, girlfriends, dates, husbands, wives and one-night stands.
The thought had never occurred to me before reading a CNN article called “Got bedbugs? New Yorkers may scratch that relationship.” Having bedbugs, whether imaginative or real, seems to effect our relationships with those around us, mainly because there is such an infestation in our country right now. Who would have thought that we’d have to consider the presence of actual bugs before hopping into someone’s bed? Moreover, who’d think we’d have to consider other bugs besides scabies (EW.) before sleeping with someone?

According to this article, these little guys are breaking up relationships (both casual and not) more often than we’d imagine. The situation causes people to forgo physical interaction with others, in fear that the bugs might spread to their own bodies and clothing. Additionally, the bugs are causing more people to panic like my friend’s roommate did, even when no bugs really crawl through our rooms. That constant panic alone can easily cause rifts or tension in a relationship. I mean, really, would you want to deal with someone whose thoughts of bugs occupy their entire train of thought all day?

We can, though, learn a few things from this article. First, you shouldn’t crawl into bed with a random person. This is not only because of the factors we can all name immediately (STDs, physical danger, etc.), but because you really don’t know what else is lurking under their sheets. We also can gather how serious of a problem these bugs are-- how quickly they spread and how rampant they truly are-- and why it’s so imperative that we take action if we ever actually find them in our apartments.

But do I really think that we can definitively say that bed bugs ruin relationships? Absolutely not. We all face stressful matters in all of our social and romantic relationships. But if you’re going to let these teensy little dudes ruin what you have with your significant other, I’d argue that you have much bigger problems somewhere. We can all easily mask the issues and say that bedbugs are ruining our lives, but really, it’s important to realize that maybe you’re ending your relationship because of your small guy and not because of your small creepy-crawlers.

PS: I actually don’t mean that. Well, not completely at least. Don’t break up with a guy because of his size. Just don’t. But we’ll get into that another time.

“Apologies” for the Past-- with a Conniving Twist

2010-10-22T07:17:00.001-07:00

On my way to work two days ago, I was obviously reading the iPhone version of the New York Times that I had so brilliantly pre-loaded before my subway went underground. In the section that hosts the “Most Popular” articles, I touched the article on the top of the list. Turns out it was about Anita Hill, the woman who, in 1991, accused Supreme Court Justice-to-be Clarence Thomas of sexual harassment. She testified under oath that he had subjected her to comments of sexual and pornographic nature. Thomas still managed to receive the nomination to the United States’ highest court, but his ordeal with Hill has perhaps forever tainted the opinions many Americans hold toward him.

So in case you’ve been living under a rock for the past couple of days (I don’t think any of my readers are starfish or worms, but who knows...) let me inform you that Hill was back in the news because of another interesting situation. Apparently she arrived to work at Brandeis University one morning last week, only to find a voicemail waiting from Thomas’s wife, Virginia. Virginia had decided that one morning at 7:30am just 19 years after her husband’s battle against Hill would be a good time to call Hill to “make amends.” Hill, upset and concerned for obvious reasons, called campus police who later informed the FBI. But, like any girl would, she made the situation explode even further: she also called The New York Times to let them listen to the message.

“Good morning Anita Hill, it’s Ginni Thomas,” she said in the message. “I just wanted to reach across the airwaves and the years and ask you to consider something. I would love you to consider an apology sometime and some full explanation of why you did what you did with my husband.”

She went on to tell Thomas to “have a good day.”

If I were reading that out of context, I’d have assumed that Thomas were asking Hill to apologize for something that happened yesterday or maybe the day before, but not nineteen years ago. I also would have thought (rather, hoped) that someone married to someone as much in the spotlight as a Supreme Court Justice might have a little more tact and understanding in terms of which battles to pick and when.

As I went to bed that night watching the news, I realized that this situation wasn’t going to blow overly so quickly and that Virginia’s message is still reaching “across the airwaves.” Yet another newscaster was providing their commentary on the story. Now, let’s be honest. Virgina must have been able to predict that her message would have become public, and she certainly couldn’t have thought that Hill would have kept the instance private. She had to have known that this would become a rather large and well-known scandal in itself.

At least in my eyes, this is the classic scenario of not only girl-to-girl bullying, but also a pathetic cry for attention on the part of Virginia. (Likewise, we could probably argue that to some extent Hill was vying for attention by publicising the occurrence.) I would have hoped that women of their age could have matured enough to avoid not only such a public spectacle, but a public spectacle nineteen years after beginning.

But, here’s what it boils down to: sometimes apologies (or some semblance of an apology to some degree) come when you least expect it. Maybe both women were instigating their own drama, but the situation shows that people revisit the past when the timing seems unusual or random. No one knows what triggered this event, perhaps marital problems between the Thomas’s, but what matters is that the Hill-Thomas situation was revisited and, even though it involves two prominent women, they still managed to slide in a conniving and girly twist. Apparently I was wrong in thinking that women grow up. Figures.

Summing up my post: WHY I DON'T WANT TO RELY ON A MAN TO SUPPORT ME.

2010-10-21T07:29:00.000-07:00

Kick-Ass Quote of the Month...

Comes from a woman who listened to the KQED interview Michelle Cove did this month about Seeking Happily Ever After, her new documentary about women getting married later in life. Her comment:

"Being single in your 30's or older simply means you have to WORK to CREATE your life. True, it's probably not for the weak, lazy or uninspired. I've always chosen to create my life than to fall into a cookie cutter plan society has mapped out for me. The result? Passion, purpose, growth and a lifestyle most people I know say they envy. I consider myself blessed to walk the 'road less traveled.'"

Facebook and Our Feelings?!

2010-10-20T13:10:00.000-07:00

So here’s an interesting one. Facebook cares about you. Not only does the company/website care about you, they care about your feelings and your emotions, especially when it comes to romantic breakups.
According to Samuel Axon’s “Facebook stops showing you photos of your ex” (http://www.cnn.com/2010/TECH/social.media/10/20/facebook.ex.photos.mashable/index.html?iref=NS1) on www.cnn.com, Facebook “used to constantly show you photos of your ex, which might have reminded you just how great things were before he or she dumped you, but it has stopped that now. Exes no longer show up in the ‘Photo Memories’ box.” For those unaware, the “Photo Memories” box refers to that subdivision of your Facebook screen that appears in the top right corner of certain pages on the site, like when you’re viewing friends or photos.

Now, if I remember correctly from The Social Network, Mark Zuckerberg certainly cared about algorithms. He definitely didn’t care about social relationships on the personal level. Rather, he was concerned about how they applied to other people and how he could capitalize on essentially helping technologically define other people’s social ties. But, hey, money talks and a good business person knows what their client is after. And Zuckerberg’s clients, we can assume, certainly aren’t after making their lives miserable and depressing through constant visual reminders of relationships past. Well, some of them might be, but here I’m assuming that we’re not all crazy emo people who strive to be depressed all day. Or at least I hope not.

Anyway, according to this source, a group of people made a Facebook group where they protested the “Photo Memories” box. Their efforts, it seems, made an impact as they got their way. Facebook developed a set of rules in their programing code to make it so that our exes essentially no longer pop up unwanted on our screens. What the code entails no one but insiders knows for sure; maybe the system recognizes when we used to click on someone’s profile all the time and then stopped, or perhaps it’s based solely on changed relationship statuses. As one of my friends said once, “I don’t question it, I just know that Facebook somehow knows everything.” Scary but somehow true.

Since Facebook already has way too much of my information (and I’m really the only one at fault for that) I’m not sure what I think. I can’t decide if I like that they’re using my clicking-habits to help me out or if I’d really appreciate that they stay out of my personal life. I’d like to think that when I feel as if the whole world knows I’ve just experienced a tragic breakup at least animals and non-human, inanimate objects, like the internet and our computers, are unaware. Apparently no long the case.

Now, I do have to say that it might bring on a sense of relief if an ex’s picture no longer pops up when we didn’t even go to their page. I mean, sometimes it’s unavoidable, especially if you two still maintain mutual friendships. He or she is bound to appear in a picture you’re looking at for an entirely different reason than to stalk him. My own algorithm helps me calculate me that there’s a good chance this will happen. (Funny role reversal here, I’m pretending to enter the mathematical/computer science world as Facebook and its developers try to edge into the realities of the social world.)

When it comes down to it, I think I appreciate the intentions of the company here. In the olden days (read: Y2K and before) we didn’t have to look at pictures of an ex unless we pulled out and dusted the photo box we kept under our bed. Now, with the prolific nature of social networking online, we have no choice but to keep seeing reminders of what was. If Facebook can even help me to avoid one of those hurtful moments, even just one, then I say all the power to them. I’d prefer to spend that moment not thinking about an ex, wouldn’t you?

WHY I DON'T WANT TO RELY ON A MAN TO SUPPORT ME.

2010-10-19T12:21:00.001-07:00

I’ve got a problem. I’ve become a feminist. I’ve never been a feminist before and, quite honestly, I’m not really sure what to make of it or how to deal with it. Before you go off thinking that I’m about to be burning my bra and protesting the male race, hear me out.

It recently occurred to me that I value my education, acquired skills and the mere fact that I have a job and an income. At this point in life there are very few things that are worth more to me than being able to support myself financially, pay my own bills and, as a result, not have to answer to anyone or anything besides myself. Maybe that’s being selfish, not feminist, but I personally still think it’s a little bit more feministy than I’ve ever been in the past.

I have to take a step back and wonder why this whole overarching “job” and “career” and “financial stability” concept is so important to me right now. Why this second? Why do I care?

First off, I realize that at some points during my educational career I worked hard for my grades. Sure, in college I slacked off plenty, but just being in college (physically) was work on its own-- both emotionally and academically. But moreso emotionally. (Hey, it’s tough to learn how to share a living space with conniving girls or to deal with that best friend whose idea of a good time is to get wasted and then destroy property!) Second, I realize that I’m goddamned lucky to have a job during these years that are so difficult financially for most Americans.

After considering these two things, I then think about so many girls my age whose only wish (whether or not they have yet fulfilled it) is to get married and have babies. Now, I’m not about to argue that either of those are bad things in themselves, but I will defend my opinion to the death that there is a proper time and place for these things to happen in our lives. Just as much as it wouldn’t have been appropriate to pop out a few kids in high school, it wouldn’t be the ideal time in my life now, either. I’m 23 and baby, I’ve got this decade to live without the hassel of raising my own family. I need to raise MYSELF before I can be responsible for anyone else. I just envision myself encouraging a child to make their bed or maintain a healthy diet when I don’t yet do it myself. Those alone provide an instant reminder that I’m not ready.

I also have decided that if I were, in theory, to just quit my job to get married and have kids, it would demonstrate a complete lack of ambition. Don’t get me wrong, I understand how challenging it is to raise a kid and maintain a household even without a job. As Oprah says, being a mom is the hardest job in the world. But if I were to marry someone in order to have kids right now for any other purpose other than for love, it would not only be not only unfair to the guy, but really unfair to myself. Why shouldn’t I be in a position to strive to improve upon or advance in my career? Do I really want to have to trust one person’s dealings at work to ensure my own monetary stability? Why should he have to do all of the work outside the house to support me when I have a perfectly worthy college degree?

All in all, it comes down to one thing: I don’t want to be lazy. I’d like to think that I have more personality, education and intelligence than to just give up my outside world to rely on some husband’s paychecks so I can clean toilets and do laundry all day. There is absolutely no reason for me to resign myself to a life at home watching soaps while the baby sleeps. It’s early enough in time that I can still prove myself as my own person out there in the working world while saving time in the future to both have a family and a career.

Besides, the workplace is often the best place for me to get story ideas. And we all know I wouldn’t get to maintain this blog, one of my favorite things to write, if I didn’t have interesting stories. I’d rather be writing from my Cloroxed cubicle than from a rocking chair as a baby spits up on me, thank you very much.

You Ended It, Now YOU Move On.

2010-10-10T17:22:00.000-07:00

At one point or another, most of us have been there: we’ve been broken up with. We know what it’s like to feel torn apart at the seams, and we suddenly recognize what our old stuffed animal felt like back in 1989 after we chewed him apart a little too much. Maybe it feels as if life will never be the same since that person who played such an important role will now be out of the picture. Maybe we feel hopeless-- will I ever find someone to love me as much as he or she did?

Oftentimes when someone breaks up with us they shoot off a barrage of excuses. “I just want to be young and party unattached” or “I’m just not at a place in my life where I can have someone else relying on me.” Truth of the matter is that, yes, maybe your significant other is telling it straight. Or, if you know me, you know that I always refer back to the basic premise of my favorite book: maybe, just maybe, he’s just not that into you. A lot of the time we don’t know why exactly someone chose to end things with us, especially when we haven’t done something especially wrong or offensive. It doesn’t take an episode of cheating to make someone want to make a swift exit from the relationship. Sometimes it just happens, for whatever reason, and the person ending it doesn’t provide a proper explanation. It sucks but it happens. We all deal with this.

So maybe the person doesn’t give us a good explanation as to why they’re ending things. Perhaps the breakup leaves us wondering what we did wrong or how we could have salvaged the relationship. At one point or another, though, I hope that we all come to the same conclusion: it’s over, it will be over forever, and there’s not a heck of a lot that we can do to change it. I know it sounds pessimistic (and it actually is) but hey, that’s reality. Can’t spend our lives chasing something we really shouldn’t have. As my roommate explained, “In some situations you realize that you wasted just way too much energy on something to make it work when, in reality, it was no longer worth the fight but it takes a bad break up to make you realize it.”

So months later, when you finally get over it, something interesting inevitably happens: your ex comes crawling back. Now I’m not suggesting that it ALWAYS happens, but, a good chunk of the time when things ended expectantly, it does. Usually it’s when you least expect it, like you’re sitting at your desk at work on a Thursday at 4pm and-- oh hey-- one new email in your inbox. Your heart stops because, well, that name hasn’t appeared in your inbox in months!

Sometimes, in the worst of situations, it’s in public. An ex might approach you when other people are around, just so that you feel the need to be a polite and proper person and actually have a conversation. Or, unfortunately, sometimes an ex isn’t so kind. In the case of my roommate, her ex-boyfriend isn’t even attempting to put on a gentlemanly act. Rather, he’s resorted to the oh-so-mature behavior of public embarrassment, screaming at her across the room at parties and talking trash behind her back to all of her friends. Now, if he’s not embarrassing HIMSELF in public, I don’t know who is. Hello, YOU made the mistake, and now you’re taking it out on her, right after she’s gotten over you? I say let him keep shouting and making scenes. Pretty soon other people besides us will realize that he’s beating himself up for what he did and trying to place the blame on her!

As Bob Dylan sang, "I ain't sayin' you treated me unkind.You could have done better but I don't mind.You just kinda wasted my precious time." Sometimes, we just have to look back on things and realize that, yes, maybe we think we wasted some of our time, but everything usually works itself out well. We learned from our past relationships (I hope!) and, believe it or not, the person who wrongfully ended them (if that’s the case) usually learns their lesson as well, as evidenced by the ones who come crawling back. After all, isn’t it nice to realize that we’re living in the present while an ex who hurt us so much in the past is still living in it?

From Coffee Dates to Booty Calls: Unacceptable Dating Trends

2010-10-08T08:29:00.000-07:00

It’d be a little inappropriate if a guy asked you outright for a first date that included not only dinner but a sleepover and breakfast as well. It’s not unheard of though, and it definitely happens all of the time. It would also be odd to take a date to meet the parents (or even the friends or extended family) on a first date. But, after talking to countless girls about their dating lives, I’ve learned that this experience, too, is also not unheard of. People have different expectations about what should happen on a first date and where it should be, but there are certain things that just cross the line. And, as Joey from Friends would say, sometimes people cross the line so far that the line just looks like a dot to them!

It’s important that I make something clear here. We often focus on when men have gone too far and have done too much on a first or second date. Perhaps they took the girl to somewhere too extravagant (a wedding or work gathering is clearly not appropriate for a first meeting) or they expected the meeting to go on for too long. Much too often, though, girls overlook the very opposite phenomenon: the guy who just won’t step things up.

For a first date, I like to suggest to both other people and myself to keep things simple. I’m talking a Starbucks get-together or a casual outdoor walk. No reason to have a higher-pressure situation, like dinner, where oh-so-many things could go wrong. Sure, with a coffee or tea date someone could spill, or with a walk someone like myself could trip and end up in the hospital. But there’s much less risk involved. Most importantly, it’s easier to scheme an exit plan when things are left simple. If you’re dying over dinner because that guy is just leaking partially chewed food from his mouth, there aint a hell of a lot you can do besides wait for him to finish and hope to god the check comes soon. And he better be paying. Especially after putting you through that disgusting behavior.

Basically a first date should be short, sweet, easy to get out of but, if it’s good enough, one that wants you leaving more. That said, what happens when a guy keeps the dates short and simple? What if he never makes the transition from your local coffee shop to even your neighborhood pizza joint? Or what if he does take you for dinner, but then never wants to even do as much as get ice cream afterwards?

That, my friends, is a problem. If a man really wants to get to know you and ultimately date you, he should, at the very least, buy you a nice (not necessarily expensive, but nice) meal and want to spend time with you. Under no circumstances should you “not be worthy” of his time for dinner; rather, if that’s the case, he’s not worth any of your time at all.

Another similar issue that arises is when you come across a guy who, sure, he’ll take you for dinner, and he might even take you out for drinks and a stroll afterward-- on weeknights. But when it comes to the weekends he disappears. Well, listen to me, and listen to me well: that’s not acceptable behavior. If a guy isn’t willing to fit you into his oh-so-busy weekend schedule that doesn’t even have a second for you to see each other, then well, he’s just not what you’re looking for. A guy who’s truly into you should not only want to see you on the weekends (or all the time, for that matter, although seeing each other too often too soon is a totally different issue), but on weekend nights as well. He should be thrilled to share your company on a Friday night, rather than be out boozing with his bros and picking up hos. (Alright, I tried to rhyme, but actually if you think about it, there might be SOME sense in what I was trying to say.)

It all boils down to this: it’s totally fine if a guy starts things off slowly. He should. No doubt about it. But, if after a few dates he’s unwilling to, say, devote an entire meal to you or pen you in for a weekend meet-up, he’s just not worth your time. Remember, it’s not at all about buying you things, and a guy should never feel as though he always has to buy you dinner. (You should be doing it an equal amount for him, ladies!) But, he should be willing to sometimes take you out, and those sometimes should definitely be occasionally during prime going-out hours. If he doesn’t man up and have this happen, I’d argue that he really should be out with his boys looking for women-- trashy women not including yourself-- who will tolerate this disgusting behavior.

PS: Please remember that there are exceptions to every rule. Maybe your guy works night shifts and can’t have dinner. Consider other factors before jumping to any conclusions, but please oh please, don’t make excuses for him. He’s not even your boyfriend yet! Booty calls and completely cost-free dates aren’t going to cut it, and they damn well shouldn’t.

Love vs. In Love

2010-10-04T17:57:00.000-07:00

I know that I haven't been writing multiple posts per week like I was this summer, but that's just because life has picked up and become busier. While it's definitely a good thing that I run myself ragged until I come home and crash at night, it means less energy to write for my readers. But don't think I haven't been thinking about you. The list of potential blog topics that I've generated has been growing steadily. Just today, while I was on a particularly head-clearing run, I came up with a few fresh ones. But even though that list has stretched in length, I think it's time that I tackle a big, important topic that countless people have encouraged me to think about: LOVE.

Over the past couple of months, I've found myself in conversation with friends about what it means to be "in love" with someone, versus to just "love" someone. Some people habitually use those phrases interchangably, but I really don't think that's always appropriate. I sure hope that we love the people that we're in love with, but do we have to be in love with those we love?

Absolutely not.

On the most fundamental of levels, think of it this way. Are you in love with your mother? If you are, stop reading. Stop reading immediately. Get yourself into the next available shrink. I'm serious. In all honesty, though, do you love your mother? (Or, if not your mother, then your father, your brother, your aunt, whatever other family members?) Most of us can probably say that yes, we love at least one of our family members. But does that mean that we're in love with them? I sure hope to God not!

What's the difference here? Well, it's romance of course. We love our family members, meaning that we care about them in an extremely deep sense. Perhaps it means that we'd do anything for them to ensure their happiness and/or wellbeing, or maybe it means that if something were to happen to them, we'd be forever changed and devastated. We love them in the sense that they mean a heck of a lot to us, but we don't love them in the way that makes us want to crawl into bed naked with them. Right there, that's the basic explanation of loving someone versus being in love with them. (I'm sick and twisted, I know, but just hang out and see where I'm going.)

Now, movies and romantic pieces of literature often consider that silly old notion of love at first sight. Do I believe in it? No, I definitely don't. I'm completely sure that it takes a long time to get to know someone well enough to love them, that love isn't based off of looks or initial interactions. Yes, both of those things can start us on a journey to ultimately finding love, but can you really say that you know your life would be ruined if that guy you saw across the bar tragically died tomorrow? Love is deeper than appearances, more serious than a crush. More serious than even the biggest of crushes. Really.

That said, just because you love someone doesn't mean you're in love with them. Maybe you care about them deeply and know that they hold a special place in your heart. But would your heart be broken if they were to disappear tomorrow? Would you forever compare every other person of romantic interest to that one person, always holding them in higher regard than the rest?

A friend and I were talking about this and we came to one conclusion, a partial answer to a question that really has no answers. We decided it's easier to tell if you were actually in love with someone in retrospect than it is in the present. When we're dating someone, we might THINK we're in love. We decide that we really rely on our partner for at least some of our happiness, that our life would be changed without them. We think about this even if, in the back of our mind, we know that they're maybe not "the one," or that they have some qualities about them that drive us so insane that we can't really overlook them and focus on the good.

Looking back on past relationships, though, is what often allows us to determine if we were really in love, or rather just having a good time with a person that maybe we even, to some degree, loved at the time. If you look back on that first relationship that you felt "in love," how does it make you feel now? If that person were to contact you right now, would you get butterflies in your stomach? Or do they really not mean a whole heck of a lot to you anymore? Do you remember what it felt like to kiss them, or is that a memory so distant that your mind has sort of just forgotten it?

Although I'm stating the obvious, I think that looking back on situations is what really allows us to evaluate them. Maybe we can't verify that we were really in love until it's too late, until our object of affection has married and had kids. Or, conversely, what I consider a good situation is looking back and not feeling anything about that man who broke our heart or that girl who crushed us. Maybe, just maybe, that means that we really weren't all that in love, even though we thought we were at the time and in the moment.

I've come to two conclusions while having written this post. One is that it's true, it really takes time to both fall in love with someone and to love them deeply. I don't care what Hollywood says, but you can't love someone when you first meet them, as you simply just don't know enough about them to love their entire being. Two is that time really does make a huge difference. When we break up with someone, we can often feel this awful pain that seems as if it will never go away. But, when we let the time pass and we look back on our relationship with that other person, sometimes time has allowed us to realize that they didn't mean as much to us as we thought. (Of course, the opposite can also be true.) Point is, I don't think we always can accurately assess what we have when we have it. But, if feelings of love and being "in love" continue over time without any doubt, then maybe, just maybe, we've found something worthwhile and what we can actually call "true love."

Rude and at Work

2010-09-29T12:29:00.000-07:00

Most of us at some point or another either go to work or have gone to work or, if we’re lucky enough to still be living the high life in college (literally or figuratively) we will in the future. Well, of course, if America gets its act together and makes jobs for all of us. Point is, jobs and careers are generally a reality. We all need to pay the bills somehow or another; whether it’s by marrying the ugliest wealthy slime-ball around or because we mooch off of mom and dad while living in their basement when we’re forty years old, we all rely on money to make life livable.

Most of us prefer though to just go to work, earn our own money and count on ourselves. Obviously that statement doesn’t include everyone, but I’m 99% positive that a majority of people in this country go to work because they have to. Sure, some of us like what we do. I’m not going to tell you that I dislike my job (because I don’t) or that I hate all of my daily tasks (again, because I don’t). But, given the choice to sit here in my cubicle or go out and take a walk along the river on this gorgeous day, I’d have to admit that I’d rather take the walk. Work isn’t for fun. Rather, it’s a means of filling my days. It keeps my mind active and allows me to pay rent. My earned paycheck even pays my cable bill-- one that manages to be exceptionally expensive even though I don’t even watch porn-- and for both necessary and unneeded clothing, a costly gym membership and even charitable gifts.

Likewise, most of my colleagues are in this position. They’re not crunching numbers, writing grants and scheduling meetings for their own pleasure. They do it so they don’t have to live with their parents, so they can support their own kids. My coworkers work so they can pay for their own movie tickets and cruises, for manicures and for that pair of jeans they just need to have. Oh and they also need to pay for their necessities, like food and rent. Minor detail though.

Yes, work is enjoyable when we get to eat gourmet meals charged to the company. It's also nice when we get perks like gym memberships and free personal training sessions. Whatever the reason we work though, we all know that we’re here on a daily basis more out of necessity than for pleasure.

Since we’re all in the same boat (or, on the same floor is perhaps more like it), don’t you think we’d respect each other? Since I really am not having fun submitting that grant application to the National Institute of Health, and because I can guess that the lady across the hall isn’t either, don’t you think we’d both suck it up and get the job done with smiles on our faces? Wouldn’t you think that she’d spare me from making the task more difficult than it already is by speaking to me kindly, rather than making it worse?

By talking with colleagues, friends and family members, I’ve learned that there’s this covert office culture in many places where being rude is acceptable and sometimes not even discussed. Do you not like what someone had to say in that email they sent you? No problem. Just shoot them one right back using all capital letters, just in case your angry words alone didn’t get the message across. Don’t want to be cordial with that girl who sits across from you? Again, no problem. Sneak into your coworker’s office when you want to talk and make it known that you’re closing the door to gossip. Definitely do it when the girl you dislike is the only one in the office though-- just so she knows that you’re purposely trying to exclude her. Oh and you say you don’t like how someone ran a meeting? Once again, not a problem. Just make it known to everyone but the leader directly that you think you’re boss and that they’re just a little person whose voice doesn’t deserve to be heard.

I constantly find myself shocked at not only how I’m occasionally treated by those around me, but also by how my friends in different jobs are spoken to and acted toward daily. I’m fortunate enough to work in a place where most of us like each other, where when our monthly pizza party rolls around we’re all excited to sit on the floor and get comfy talking and eating. But, a snarky email or rude voicemail unfortunately makes me forget all of the good things sometimes. As my boss recently explained it, one person with a bad attitude is like a dominant trait. That dominant trait overrides all others, so as to say that one negative person overrides the nice personalities of everyone else. (We work in a genetics lab.) When one person whips out the negativity, it catches on like wildfire and puts everyone in a bad mood. And, believe me, in an environment where you spend over forty hours per week, the last thing anyone would want would be more frowns and nasty emails and less laughter.

Before you touch-type some scathing email, please think about how your words might effect the recipient. I know it sounds like a kindergarten lesson, but it’s true. There's rarely a need to bring out the nastiness at work. How about we just act kindly toward each other until 5:00pm, just to make it easier on everyone? If you want to go ahead and release any negativity by beating up the treadmill or taking a boxing class, be my guest. But please leave both my inbox and feelings alone. I’m just trying to get through the day and earn a couple bucks, just like you. Yes, just like YOU.

Returning to High School After College

2010-09-22T17:55:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago I invited over a close friend for dinner. Back in the day, we met by bumping into each other on the dance floor at someone’s bar mitzvah since our big sombreros from the DJ were covering our eyes. Actually, I don’t know if that’s true, but hey, it’s possible-- we did meet in the seventh grade.

Anyway, since we’ve known each other through the years, I guess I can say that we grew up together. We’ve also watched our friends mature as we have right along with them. Likewise, we’ve watched a disgusting percentage of the kids we used to see each day in public school NOT mature. You’d think that years after they moved away from home, graduated from college and, for some, started work in the real world, they would have, I don’t know, learned to have a little class, tact or-- dare I say it-- proper social skills. And, once again, folks, R. was WRONG.

We were sitting at the table eating dinner when my friend, E., described a situation that came up when she was home in our Connecticut suburb days earlier. She was out with her girlfriends and they stumbled upon this boy who was always known as a “popular kid” at home. He was always adorable, and I know for a fact that I recognized that even back in the sixth grade when I probably still thought he could infect me with some gross disease simply because he was a boy. (Little did I know, that really was true but, fortunately for me, I never put myself in a position where that could have happened then.)

Anyway, this boy, Ben, always knew he was cute and knew he ran with a crowd who considered themselves admired by everyone else. As expected, especially in a snotty town like mine, his attitude followed suit: he knew that he was highly regarded and, for that reason, apparently didn’t feel the need to talk to or even respect those he considered “beneath him.”

Ah, yes, I know, the classic story of the popular kid with an attitude. Most of us can relate, no matter where we grew up. But, unlike the situation that most of us face, kids from my town, never grew out of this attitude. We didn’t ever all “bond as a senior class” like the students in so many other places did once they realized that they were all equals. No, people like Ben have remained arrogant and still consider themselves better than the rest of us-- even if they’ve gained 38 pounds since high school and spend all day smoking pot and watching Lost.

Anyway, E. runs into Ben and he immediately gives each of her friends a hug. I guess he had deemed them not only worthy of affection, but also not so far below beneath him that he could--OH MY GOD-- touch them! After he went down the line of the three friends, his eyes landed on E.

“I guess I have to hug you too,” he said, as if she should consider it an honor that he’d even speak to her.

“You don’t have to be so awkward,” she replied, without missing a beat. (GO E!!!)

What she said was both right and wrong. She was right to call him out on his bizarre (read: exceptionally snobby and unacceptable) behavior. But how she labeled it was wrong. He wasn’t awkward; he was just a douche. A douche with an ego from the sixth grade. One that should have been gone by the seventh or, actually, never even existed at all. So he had a cute grin and came to school decked out in Abercrombie from head to toe twelve years ago, but does that give him the right to be so rude now? Of course not.

Believe me, when I actually lived at home I was used to people either ignoring me completely or insulting me to my face just to feel powerful. But now I’m years removed from my town and, come on, it’s still happening! That much no one ever prepared me for.

Just last week I experienced my own “hometown” moment. I ran into a girl who grew up in my neighborhood who happens to live in my current area of the city. When our eyes locked in passing her head immediately did a 180. No, I didn’t have some heinous wart growing out of my face. I wasn’t even wearing a mismatched outfit or walking with my hair a mess. (Although maybe she would have thought I was actually cool if my hair were a sex hair mess? Would she even believe that a girl as pathetic as me could ever be even kissed by a man?!) But she refused to even look at me, even though she obviously knew damn well who I was.

So what did I do? I followed E’s example. I called her out on it. I shouted to her with a bright, beaming smile, acting as if we were friends. (I can just imagine her gagging herself with a spoon at the thought of me even fake-labeling her as my “friend...”) I know that I never did anything wrong to this girl; rather, it’s her insecurity. And, in a way, it even makes me feel sort of powerful that she feels that my presence is significant enough that, if she were to acknowledge it, I could ruin her reputation in a city of millions of people.

Funny, but I’d almost argue that we’ve had a role reversal. E and I are the ones who are going through our lives carefree about who we talk to. People like Ben or the girl I mentioned have to worry about who they even make eye contact with, in fear that it could somehow lessen how others think of them.

Well, let it be known, we already think less of you. We think less of you that you don’t have the courage to get over your high school bullshit and to act like a decent human being. And for that I think that people like E and me can smile and be glad that we’ve grown up while leaving all the popular kids in the memories of their middle school photos. Personally, I’m just glad that my social peak wasn’t when I was twelve years old. That would have just been pathetic.

Never Single, Always Attached

2010-09-15T13:00:00.000-07:00

First off, please let me apologize for not having posted anything in a couple of weeks. Things have been crazy busy (always a good thing!) and I haven’t had a spare second to write a bitchfest tirade in a while. But, not to worry, I’m back... and as critical as ever.

Even though I’ve been sort of swamped with work and outside activities lately, I’ve still of course made time for Facebook stalking. Obviously. Sometimes it’s just on my phone on the way to work but, without a doubt, it always gets done.

One night as I was scrutinizing the profile of a girl I went to college with, it occurred to me that HOT DAMN, there is NEVER a time that this girl doesn’t have a boyfriend. Never. Not a day. Ok, I’m lying. There was a time that she didn’t have one for about three weeks, but she made sure to get the first one she could get her hands on (literally) after her boy of a couple of years broke things off. Essentially it’s become clear that this girl really hasn’t ever been single since she started dating-- probably back in middle school-- and, judging by the rate she’s going, it doesn’t appear that she ever will be.

I know, I know. You’re wondering how I could possibly predict that she’s going to be attached for the rest of her life. No one has that guarantee, especially these days, do they? People get divorced constantly and, for that matter, many times over. Heck, there’s no guarantee that any of us will even ever get married, but if we’re willing to lower our standards-- and I mean REALLY lower our standards-- we can most certainly seal the deal. After all, all it takes is a couple of blow jobs and, with the quick flick of a tongue, we can score anyone we want, right? (Relax, I’m kidding. Really. I’m seriously joking.)

Some girls are truly willing to settle for anyone and anything. Yes, I just said anything. I’m sure some girls do those blowup doll things like men do, right? In all seriousness, though, there are girls that need to have a man in order to internally validate themselves. They feel worthless unless some man has claimed them as theirs, as if they're not successful in life until they have someone to call their “boyfriend,” “fiance,” or, most significantly, their “husband.” That or they just want to call themselves Mrs. Either way, choose your poison.

Anyway, it’s recently become pretty apparent that this girl I was talking about before not only broke up with her longterm boyfriend, but she also already has a new one. In my opinion, not that she or anyone really cares, she should have broken up with the first guy years ago. Perhaps she could have done it on the day that I found her crying at school because she had just caught him cheating. But, just reiterating what I said before, some girls are willing to take any man they can, just so they feel valued and worthy on this planet.

I’ve long argued that I’m not a feminist-- and I’d still argue that to the death in terms of my prospective on most issues-- but COME ON, GIRLS. Can you really not live a day without a man to call your own? Do you not know how to schedule dinner plans with girlfriends and not include “the boys?” Are you really that afraid of doing things on your own and not having a boy to help you make your decisions and validate your choices?

Perhaps it’s just a sexdrive issue. Maybe that’s it. Maybe girls like her can’t go without intimacy long enough to be single for even a couple of hours. They must be sex addicts. Hey, that could be it. Who knows?!

I think that girls don’t recognize the way that they’re portraying themselves to others when they do this constant boyhopping garbage. Do you really want people to think about you as being that willing to take anyone into your bed? I’m pretty certain that no matter how pretty, smart, funny, sexy, whatever you are, no one sees it as just that; rather, they see you as desperate and unable to manage being on your own. Essentially, you’re viewed as incompetent and weak: she can’t handle getting herself dinner or not having someone sleep in her bed every night!? Come on, girlies, that’s what I’d call pathetic.

Long story short, I’m not impressed by girls who always find themselves attached. It’s not that I’m jealous-- I maintain this idea when I have a boyfriend just as much as when I don’t-- but what's more is that I pity them. I thank my non-existant God for the fact that I can manage on my own, that I don’t rely on dating someone to be happy. And, know what? Sometimes-- or, actually, a lot of times-- it’s more fun to hang out with just myself than anyone else. (Just an FYI: being able to crack yourself up is a great skill.) I’m eternally grateful for being able to enjoy alone time, and well, time when I don’t always have to report my every action to some boy just to feel like a worthy person!

I’m Cutting You Out of My Technological Life.

2010-09-02T07:49:00.001-07:00

Remember when you were in elementary school and there was that friend you’d always fight with? She would threaten to not invite you to her birthday party or that she’d have a playdate with a bunch of your friends and exclude you. Or what about in high school and there was that jealous ex who spread rumors about you? Didn’t you want to completely cut out that evil person from your life? (After ripping their hair out and throwing a few punches, of course.)

At least for me, it used to be my dream to never again lay eyes on those who bullied me or tormented me most as a kid. In an ideal world, I’d never have to. As nice as it would have been, I wasn’t able to forever avoid these annoying and sometimes downright evil characters in my life. There existed no hard way to make it clear that we were done and never speaking again, unless one of us were to explicitly say so.

Now we’re in the Facebook era and, yep, you guessed it, it’s easier than ever to completely separate someone from your life. All it takes is one little click and-- POOF-- you’ve officially “unfriended” someone. (Yes, “unfriend” is apparently a real word. See here.) No detrimental words needed. Certainly no black eyes or even scratches. In fact, the person being unfriended might not even know, but you, oh you little social networking genius, have surreptitiously severed all ties from this evil person. It might take until the next time they attempt to stalk you for them to realize this. Who knows-- they might look you up every hour on the hour just like I follow my friends. Just kidding. (Or am I?) Maybe they don’t care enough to ever review your carefully crafted “About Me” section and selection of 1,359 photos of yourself. Regardless, no one knows.

So who do we unfriend and why? Let’s take it from the most basic of levels: we technologically and in actuality unfriend those with whom we’ve had some sort of fight or interaction that has been so negatively intense that we choose to no longer maintain a relationship with that person. We could be talking about the girl who you had a bitch-fight with in the middle of the dining hall at school because she thinks you’re turning all her friends against her. Likewise, it could be that guy who you were really into who just broke your heart. Perhaps you can’t bare the thought of these people popping up on your computer screen which, ultimately, forces you to not only look at their faces but to also, if even for a split second, provokes a strong emotional reaction.

Know what? I get it. It’s painful to see that the guy used to date has a new girlfriend who happens to be ten pounds lighter than you, tall, blonde and gorgeous. It’s also hard to see that A., the girl who strives to make your life miserable, is off having a blast with B. and C., your two best friends-- without you.

But what does unfriending them really accomplish? Is it really worth our time or the potential ramifications?

I think that in certain instances I can at least understand why people go to this extreme. I call it an extreme even though it’s really just clicking a button. That said, that one click makes it abundantly clear that you’ve ended all contact or possibilities for contact in the future. If you were some bitchy girl who started dating the guy of my dreams (knowingly), would I unfriend you? No, because that would be a petty way to solve a potentially bigger problem. But if you were that same girl and you went and, say, physically harmed someone close to me, then would I? Maybe.

To be honest, unfriending isn’t the first option that comes to mind, perhaps because I didn’t become a part of the Facebook culture until I was a senior in high school. But would I want to remain Facebook friends so that the entire world could see that we were socially tied? NO. Of course I wouldn’t want to have any connection to you! So perhaps in that situation, just perhaps though, unfriending would be an appropriate option.

What it boils down to is that when we’re utilizing social networking technology, it’s important that we remain as mature as we would in person. If you don’t like what that girl in class has to say, you’re not going to completely cut her off forever. Why do it on Facebook if you’re already “friends” or, as I’d like to think of it, socially connected to some degree? And if someone insults you, are you really going to take the measure of unfriending them, just to ultimately signify that yes, they really have pushed your buttons and upset you? I would think you’d rather let it go than to let them know that they’re accomplished their goal of bothering you.

My advice? Be the bigger person. Don’t unfriend. Learn to use the “hide” feature on your Facebook newsfeed so that you don’t have to see that the guy you had a fight with is writing passive-aggressive status updates to make your life miserable. After all, if you unfriend someone, it’s proving to them that they’ve impacted your life. Chances are, that was their initial objective anyway. Besides, isn’t it sometimes fun to take a step back, read what someone writes online and laugh at how petty their comments are? Believe me, it’s even funnier while they’re simultaneously trying to make new friends or score a hot date!.

Just an FYI-- I recently stumbled across an article on this topic. I think it pretty perfectly sums up why someone might choose to unfriend one of their social ties. If you’re interested, read “To unfriend or not unfriend: That is the Facebook question” by Andrea Bartz and Brenna Erhrlich: click here.

Sometimes a Girl Just Needs Her Space-- Her OWN Space!

2010-08-31T11:34:00.001-07:00

Back in the day when dinosaurs roamed the Earth and our grandparents were getting engaged, it wasn’t acceptable to become too intimate with a boy before marriage. It definitely wasn’t socially acceptable to be canoodling or, worse-- engaging in sexual relations-- with anyone before the papers were signed and the deal sealed.

But living together? That had to have been than just worse than just intercourse itself. It’s like a blatant statement to the outside world that WE ARE HAVING SEX. Almost as bad as if the girl were to get pregnant. But maybe not quite. At least there wouldn’t be an illegitimate child to forever be holding a neon sign saying “I’m here because my parents made a mistake before they were married!” It might even have flashing lights and ringing bells.

Now we’re in the year 2010 and, as we all know, the public opinion and trends in terms of living together before marriage have both changed drastically. According to the National Institute of Child Health and Human Development, “just over 50% of first cohabitating couples ever get married.” In fact, they also write that “Cohabitation, once rare, is not the norm: The researchers found that more than half (54 percent) of all first marriages between 1990 and 1994 began with cohabitation.”

So, for the purposes of this post, and because I think it’s fair to believe that the numbers have surpassed 50% almost 20 years later, let’s say that, on the whole, more people than not cohabitate before marriage. Not that there’s a pressure to do so, but it’s more acceptable if it’s the choice a couple makes. And, believe me, most people are curious about what their partner is like to live with. Does he clip his toenails in a nausea-inducing manner in front of her? Does her dog destroy all underwear that she can get her paws on? Pair that curiosity with society’s acceptance towards living together and we’re certain to get more and more people trying it out before making any legal commitments. And we have.

What if, though, living together is what you both want to do, but, at the same time, it freaks you out a little? What if you feel smothered for space? Or what if you’re just worried about going to the bathroom with your lover on the other side of the door?

These all represent legitimate concerns, that’s for sure. It’s hard to adjust to living with someone new, especially if you’re sharing a bed, eating your meals together, using the same closet space etc. Maybe, just maybe, there’s a solution to these concerns.

OK-- not maybe-- there IS a solution! But you might judge me for it. Or simply say that if a person opts for this choice they’re just not yet ready to move in with the person they supposedly want to live with. (I, on the other hand, maintain the opinion that it’s good to stay independent, whether you’re living together, single, married, divorced, whatever.) What can you do? You can each maintain your own space.

What do I mean by this? I mean that maybe it wouldn’t be the end of the world for each person to have a part of the home that they could call their own. His space could be where he keeps his Little League trophies and action movies. Hers could be an escape where she keeps her bed dressed in fresh smelling sheets, covered with her childhood stuffed animals and bordered by bookshelves featuring her favorite chick-lit. What both places would have in common, though, would be that each would represent a place to take a time out, to take a break from communal living space. Because sometimes, a girl just wants to sit on the phone with her best friend and gossip, not worrying about her partner’s input. And we all know that tons of men rely on their video game time, but that most women don’t want to be involved in the . At least in my opinion, these diverse interests make for healthy relationships. After all, we can’t spend all of our time (or even a majority!) with those we love most.

Of course when I brought up this idea of separate bedrooms or individualized spaces with my friends, most were shocked or even horrified. Why would you move in with someone if you don’t want to share a bedroom? Isn’t that the point of moving in?

Yes, I’d argue that in general it is. But, that said, I’m not arguing that people who select this choice wouldn’t be sharing a bed on a nightly basis. I’m not even saying that they wouldn’t spend time in each other’s spaces. It’s just that sometimes being alone is the most rewarding and luxurious time of all. We all need it and that’s nothing to be embarrassed about. And for couples just moving in together, of course living in such close proximity is an adjustment. So why not, like with most other things in life, start off slowly? You could then gradually combine your spaces and things over time.

I bet you can imagine some of the specific reasons why it might be beneficial to maintain separate spaces or even separate bedrooms. I found a great article, “8 Reasons Why Married Couples Should Have Separate Bedrooms,” and it’s certainly worth considering. See here: http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/270260/8_reasons_why_married_couples_should.html?cat=72. A couple of years ago, in 2007, the Huffington Post even called this concept of married couples having separate bedrooms “all the rage.” See here: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2007/03/10/separate-bedrooms-for-mar_n_43118.html.

Life’s not a rush, nor is it a competition or comparison between people. Do what you need to do. But no need to be assuaged by the masses. After all, if we were to allow the American public to sway our decisions, we’d all be spending our lives eating McDonalds and watching NASCAR. Let’s face it, both are bad ideas. So maybe we can cohabitate in the not-traditionally American way, too. It really could benefit all of our relationships.

THAT Girl

2010-08-30T10:30:00.000-07:00

If you’ve ever read my blog before, you know that I hate romance. If you haven’t read my blog before, know one thing: I hate romance. I can’t stand when men are too gushy and sweet, when they bring girls roses and chocolates and all those other cliched items that every girl ends up tossing. I especially despise watching the reactions of girls who like this type of attention. Any girl who feeds into that type of love-dovey behavior in front of me isn’t someone I want to be around. Except myself.

Let me explain. Don’t worry, nothing has changed. I haven’t turned into a girl that expects (or even allows) her man to buy her things, and I’m certainly not one that makes out with her boyfriend in public. Unfortunately for him, I’ll barely even give him a kiss on the cheek when other people are around. As I’ve reiterated over and over, I’ve spent a huge chunk of my life being single. I’ve watched (in jealously) as other girls show affection for their boyfriends on the side of the road, only for the boys to reciprocate.

What happens though, if you’re a girl like me, one who hates watching other people all sickeningly in love, when you find yourself in love? What if you realize that you, too, love a man, and love him so much that you want to show your affection everywhere and anywhere? So much so that you want to shout it from the rooftops and show him off to every passerby?

If you’re aware of your surroundings, social rules or at all empathetic, you won’t act like those people you see on the street. You won’t be hanging on each other as if you’re physically attached at the lips to your partner, and you won’t be shrieking “I LOVE YOU” and “I MISS YOU!!!!” in front of other people. You just won’t.

But, that doesn’t mean you won’t be all ew and gross and pukey in private. In fact, the more you hold it in when you’re out in public the more likely you’re going to be disgusting with your boy-toy in private. If you won’t even, say, hold his hand when you’re walking to dinner, there’s a good chance that you barely let go of his hand when you’re in private. If for nothing more, it’s to make up for lost time with the one that you love.

Is that a problem if you’re really touchy-feely and romantic in private? I’d have to argue that it’s not at all. In fact, I’d even say that you’re more empathetic and socially aware of the people who don’t save their PDA and affection for private time. As a single girl at heart (simply in my beliefs towards affection in public, not in promiscuous behavior!) I’m always aware of other people. How might my friends react if I were “spending time with them” while simultaneously groping my boyfriend? Do you think they’d like it if my tongue were down his throat as they tried to share a meal or have a conversation? You know the answer. That answer is why I keep my hands to myself-- at least in public! The rules of nursery school, boys and girls.

Sure, sharing is caring. As my friend L. always says, sharing is caring unless it’s a venereal disease. I’m going to add to that and say it’s caring unless it’s affection in public. Don't share your affection in public and be THAT girl. No one wants to see it. Really.

Just remember, though, that affection still is important. It’s what makes or breaks our relationships with other people, what boosts or hinders our self-esteem. Without showing our love and gratitude toward those we care about, of course they’ll feel under-appreciated and not understand how imperative they are in our lives. Our emotional well-being relies on hugs, kisses and, yes, I’ll say it, sex. But there’s no reason to show the world all these expressions of love. Such public displays make other people want to slap you and your partner both across the face. I’d have to say that I wouldn’t argue with someone for (FINALLY!) doing that. It might do all of us disgusted onlookers some good.

I'm Religious so it's OK to Break the Rules

2010-08-26T08:24:00.000-07:00

Underwear that says "shomer negiah," literally meaning "observant of the laws of touching," in Hebrew.

When I was moving to a new city a couple of years ago, someone from home introduced me over email to a friend of his, who we’ll call Ari. Ari was also new to the city, and although he was working long hours, he was in search of someone with whom he could occasionally enjoy dinner and a movie. On a rainy Sunday afternoon, we were slated to meet up for coffee.

I remember calling my observant Jewish friend ahead of our meeting; I knew Ari was pretty religious, but I just didn’t know how much so. Some religious Jews (just like observant members of religions) won’t engage in sexual relations before marriage. Some, of course, will, but others take it to the opposite extreme: they won’t even touch members of the opposite sex before they’re married, excluding family members. That’s right: no touching. Not a hug, not a kiss on the cheek, not even a handshake or a shoulder tap. How was I supposed to greet him since I didn't know his beliefs, I wondered? What if I were to try to shake his hand, only to have him retreat in disgust?

We showed up at the café and exchanged some sort of a verbal greeting. OK, I thought, he must be shomer negiah, or a Jewish person who won’t touch a member of the opposite sex before marriage. I actually didn’t even flinch-- he kept the entire interaction, including the initial meeting, completely comfortable. He even had me laughing and engaged in conversation. Here we were, hitting it off. I had been thinking I’d have nothing in common with this person and would ruin it with an inappropriate physical interaction that he’d be offended by!

As we finished our drinks we headed outside, only to be caught in a torrential downpour. Since my apartment was only a block away and he had to attend a fancy dinner in an hour, I offered to let him come upstairs and borrow a towel to dry off. In the elevator he poked me playfully. That was hint #1 that maybe, just maybe, he would be willing to touch girls and that—dare I say it-- he’d be someone I could see myself actually dating.

A couple of days later, Ari called me around 10:00pm. He had gotten out of his investment-banking job early for the night. He wanted to come up to “say hi” and I of course agreed.

I’m not going to go into details about what happened here, but let’s just say that as soon as I closed my door he felt it would be acceptable to aggressively kiss me. Lesson learned? He’s not shomer negiah. Hard puzzle to piece together, I know.

He didn’t want the interaction to end with the spit swapping, though. He kept insisting that he wouldn’t normally do more than kiss, but since I’m “such a cute girl” he just couldn’t help himself. Really, he used to kiss girls sometimes, but, well, actually he once used to sleep with girls, but he had since stopped because of his religion. I was just SO CUTE though that he couldn’t control himself and was willing to bend his religious rules.

Now, I’m a pretty naïve girl sometimes, especially exemplified by the fact that I even allowed him to come over at that hour. But, believe it or not, this time I caught on. I caught on and I called bullshit.

“I don’t care if you keep kosher [follow Jewish dietary laws] or pray every day, the fact that you’re lying to me makes you not a good person,” I said to him as I started to escort him out the door.

“Being a good person is all relative, R.,” he sung back with a slimy grin as I stood at the door waiting for him to put on his shoes.

I think he made a valid point, even though under the circumstances it proved irrelevant. Anyone trying to make inappropriate advances on a girl is, in my book, not a good person. Or, at the very least, they’re not using good and thoughtful judgment.

I’ve observed this tactic of some boys over and over: they use their apparent religious preferences to win over girls. Clearly if they’re religious they’re honest, focused and ethical men. Then, when they really want to get some action (because what real man doesn’t?) it’s suddenly OK for them to break the rules-- the very same rules that they think attracted the girl to them in the first place.

I used to know a couple who actually would openly advertise to the world that they were both shomer negiah. They’d refuse to hug their friends who were members of the opposite sex or even extend a helping hand unless it were a dire emergency. Yet, as soon as the two started dating, they’d spend weekends sleeping in the same room. They’d even go as far as to blow up an air mattress to make it appear that they weren’t sharing a bed, when everyone (including, yes, their almighty God) knew what was really going on.

In these types of situations, I have to ask: what kind of a façade are you putting up? It’s one thing if you’re legitimately religious and really follow all of the rules because they truly align with your beliefs. When you’re putting on an act, you’re only lying to yourself. As I've said in past posts, liars always get caught. Even if it’s not until hell’s infernos, they get caught.

For more on the concept of "shomer negiah," in the form of a fun blog, please visit http://www.yourtango.com//201075616/no-touching-allowed.

The Good on Paper Guy

2010-08-25T08:36:00.000-07:00

::Author's Note::

As you may or may not already know, I'm currently in the process of writing a book-- a humorous anthology of stories of bad dates with men, narrated by women. In my search, I've come across some pretty silly, ridiculous and absurd stories from women all around the country. Melinda, a professional organizer from Texas who has her own blog, sent me her account of her worst date ever. After some back and forth, I realized that she'd be the perfect person to be my first guest blogger on this site. Not only that, but her story, one that became the focus of this post, relates to a topic that I was planning on writing about anyway.

So, read her blog. Enjoy it. Try to laugh. And, if you find that her story inspires you, write to me. I'm always looking for other guest bloggers and for new stories for my book. I'd love to include my readers in any or all of my endeavors.

The Good on Paper Guy

We all know him. You’ve probably even dated him once or twice. In case you’re lucky enough to have never run into this type, the good on paper guy is a guy that has every great quality going for him – good looks, great job, the car, then house, etc., ect. -

On paper.

However the live version just doesn’t add up. Something in real life is very different than the “paper version.” And it’s not good. Its seems to me like these guys have spent all of their time cultivating how they look on paper without focusing on themselves in real life. You may not always recognize what is off immediately, but it’s there.

Then there’s the time when the “off” reveals itself in fine fashion.

I met my good on paper guy through an online dating site. Good looking, great job, great personality. Everything a girl would want was right there, just leaping off the page. Emails were witty and phone calls just flowed effortlessly and crackled with chemistry.

So far, so good, right?

We set up a time to meet in person over dinner. He chose a really fantastic tapas restaurant. We started with a couple of cocktails. In person, as over the phone, conversation just flowed and snapped with wit. We order, contemplating all the choices and decide on an assortment to share – including lamb chops.

We’re finishing up entrees when he picks up the bone from his lamb chop and starts gnawing it clean! It would be one thing if we were at a BBQ joint, but we’re in a really nice restaurant and he was wearing a suit! Then, he reaches over to my plate, takes the lamb chop bone off my plate and cleans it off too. No “are you done with that?” or anything. Just grabbed and chewed! We’ve barely had physical contact past a hand shake and he’s putting the bone I ate from in his mouth. I was horrified but somehow managed to pretend it wasn’t happening. I just kept talking, looked away and took a drink from my cocktail. I could have won an Oscar for how well I pretended that didn’t just happen.

Later in our conversation (I stayed for dessert – I felt at this point that I’d really earned dessert), he brought up chewing off of my lamb chop bone. I told him that I wasn’t going to mention it but now that he brought it up, I thought that was pretty gross and inappropriate for the setting and a first date. Then he tells me that it was a TEST to see how I’d react. Apparently, he’d gone out with wretched women before that didn’t know how to act or something but he was testing me to see how I’d react to outlandish things. I told him I was raised right and my mother taught me how to behave in public. I also told him that this was our first and last date because testing me isn’t the best way to start off any type of relationship.

So here it is - starting any relationship, be it professional, friendship or romantic with a “test” is always a bad idea because it immediately puts doubt and mistrust into the foundation. Sure in theory I passed, but do you really want to be unknowingly tested when you were just out to meet someone and hopefully have a good time?

Being “good on paper” is worth absolutely nothing without a real person inside to back it up.

And, unless expressly invited, keep your hands off my dinner plate!

When not out creating more entertaining or bad date stories, Melinda is a professional organizer located in Fort Worth, TX. If your home is a hot mess, she can make it fabulous through her unique, effortlessly chic ideas and meticulous organization. You can learn more about her and her work at www.melindamassie.com and read more of her tips and advice on her blog, Organizing with a Side of Fabulous, at www.fabulousorganization.wordpress.com.

i love you but i'm not IN LOVE with you.

2010-08-24T12:48:00.001-07:00

This past weekend I was shopping with a close friend. While walking past a row of dresses, she stopped and pointed to one.

“Do you like this one?” she asked.

“Mmm I like it but I don’t love it,” I answered.

“Haha, R.,” she continued, “that’s so funny. My friend and I were just having a conversation about this last week! She said that when she goes shopping she separates things into categories-- she either likes something, loves something or has to have something.”

My mind immediately flashed back to some dressing room (I think at a Nordstom somewhere) where the room included labeled hooks: “Like it” and “Love it.” It was a brilliant idea for someone like me-- obsessively anal and organized-- who does that naturally. Now there were printed labels. Amazing. Fabulous way to feed into my OCD behaviors.

Anyway, after we decided that we weren’t in love with the dress on the wall at Anthropologie that day, my friend and I got to talking. Maybe this seems a bit shallow, but in some ways making this distinction between articles of clothing that we like versus love versus must have parallels our experiences with men.

Allow me to explain. A lot of girls in this world date someone because they like them. They don’t love them, and they’re certainly not IN LOVE with them. But, at the same time, they don’t hate or even dislike the guy they’re with, either. Sometimes the relationship is one of convenience, other times it’s one where one party settles for what they think is the best they can find in terms of a romantic partner.

We decided that it’s almost sad to be with someone that you don’t love or aren’t in love with. Granted, unless you believe in love at first sight, it’s going to take some time before you put your partner into one of these categories. Right now I’m talking strictly while ruling out new or budding relationships. You can’t pick which hook to hang that guy on until you’ve been dating for a substantial enough period of time to accurately decide. But, even then, please don’t hang any man (or woman) on a hook in a dressing room. That just wouldn’t be nice. And it might creep out the girl picking up the unclaimed merchandise. Just a thought.

Love certainly develops and grows stronger over time. There’s no doubt in my mind about that. What I’ve also learned is that usually it takes even longer to decide that you’re actually in love with someone. Believe it or not, you can’t fall in love with someone as quickly as you fall in love with that shiny pair of stilettos at Saks. When you do fall in love with a person, it’s actually more emotional than when it’s with a pair of shoes. (This is where it’s obvious that I’m completely different than Carrie Bradshaw and she’s not all my inspiration, right?)

This passing conversation with my friend did make me stop to consider something important, though. I’m not suggesting that it’s wrong to be with someone you’re not in love with-- we all know there are certain situations where it’s acceptable for that sentiment to be non-existent-- but I am suggesting that things are much better when you do find true love. It feels amazing to be able to say that you refused to settle for however long of a period of time and ultimately found someone that you’re really just in love with-- I guess more or less on a simplistic level like that little black dress that you hung on the “MUST HAVE” hook in the store. Besides, you wouldn’t go out with a heinous pair of pants that you really didn’t like, so why bother doing the same with a boy?

It’s also important to consider the difference here of “love” versus “in love.” Just for the sake of comparison and analogy, I’m going to say that love is when you deem a potential purchase to be something you love-- you really really like it, to the point that you care about if you buy it and really feel the need to label it as being more than just something you like. When you’re in love with someone, it’s like you snatched that scarf right off the rack and immediately threw it into the “must have” pile. You can’t live without it. You need it. You think about it, even obsess about it. Your life wouldn’t be complete without this goddamn scarf that’s going to cost you a day’s paycheck. Maybe your feelings aren’t rational, but they’re there and they’re real. You just have to have that freaking scarf or your life might fall apart.

Now, I really hope that no one ever feels that strongly about a scarf, but I also hope that you now get my point. There’s a difference between that accessory that you really want and the one that you have to have. There’s also a major difference between that guy that you really like and the one who puts a smile on your face when you’ve just had a miserable day. Those are the keepers and maybe, just maybe, unlike that scarf, they’re worth a day’s pay, or perhaps more.

WARNING: Parental Controls

2010-08-23T11:18:00.000-07:00

My fifth grade teacher told my class she was glad she didn’t have kids. Being at the beach and having a toddler pulling on her bathing suit screaming that he needed to go to the bathroom repulsed her. At the time I was horrified that she’d say that to a group of ten year old students and I sort of still am. I shouldn’t have been surprised, though. She’s the same lady who told girls to not let the boys into their bodies. And boys, you shouldn’t try to get into girls’ bodies, either.

Backing up to what she first said about the beach, we all know that there’s a good chance that many parents would say they concur. In reality, though, the American parent’s overattentive and overbearing personality on the whole overshadows that. Welcome to the twenty-first century, where moms and dads can’t help but consider each and every of their child’s (potential) needs, where no aspect of a kid’s life goes without being micromanaged.

Now, I’m no where near the point in life where I’m going to have a child, knock on wood. I do, however, find it interesting that I’m not only noticing things applicable to this topic, but also seriously considering and analyzing it. If nothing more, I think that even at this age I’m starting to recognize which ways I think I should and shouldn’t parent a kid when I have one-- while at the same time recognizing how nutty so many parents really are.

Let’s take yesterday, for example. I was in Zabar’s, an amazing Upper West Side (NYC) grocery store. Now, I’m sure I was already irked because there was a line I had to push through for proscuitto samples. I had already waited in line to score a strip of fresh rye bread! (I like this store for the samples, in case you wouldn’t already tell.) Anyway, I found myself becoming even more annoyed as I overheard a pushy mother speaking to her child, and that for sure didn’t make having to wait in line any easier.

“We’re speaking Italian now, not English!” she scolded the young boy in Italian.

The kid, about four years old, wiggled in his stroller and started screaming to voice his opinion. He hates speaking Italian. He wanted to speak English.

Call me crazy, but I call this contrived. Lady, maybe you speak Italian, but it’s pretty clear that it isn’t your first language. Also obvious? You want your kid to be talented and advanced. Not brilliant, though, because that he already is. Naturally. He’s your son.

I understand the whole wanting your kid to learn a foreign language concept. I’m actually a huge proponent, especially since I’m eternally grateful that I started learning Spanish at age eleven. But really, why has our society gotten to the point that it’s OK to force your child to speak another language other than English-- in New York-- just to have a more successful year in kindergarten!?

This situation represents just one tiny example of the whole “helicopter parent” type, or those who hover over their children and their actions at all times. As I was sitting and thinking about this incident on the train this morning, I happened to come across a New York Times article that references the same idea, Students, Welcome to College. Parents, Go Home by Trip Gabriel. (See http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/23/education/23college.html). Instead of calling them “helicopter parents” as so many people have in recent years, the author calls them “velcro parents,” as if they’re glued to their kids. Also, they’re not talking about four year olds. In fact, they’re talking about kids 4.5 times their age: kids going to college.

You think that this obsessive behavior, actions that demonstrate that parents will do or say anything to make their kids the best and the happiest, would have simmered down by college. Apparently not. Such overbearing behavior lasts up until (and even through) the college years. The issue that this article brings up has to do with parents relinquishing control over their kids and how difficult they find it. I think it’s safe to assume that many of the parents that we’re talking about here are the same that insist their kids speak foreign languages while toting their sippy cups in public.

These parents don’t know where to draw the line then and they certainly don’t when they’re going to college. They don’t even know when it’s appropriate to leave and let them well... go to college. The article tells of parents who won’t leave their kid’s dorm room to let them settle down and even parents who insist on attending their kid’s first college class. Wow, that would have been an amazing way to pick up boys. Have mommy walk me to class. I'd be the most popular kid on my hall!

My point though in explaining all this is that I worry when this type of parenting will ever end. Will these kids ever not have to answer eight texts and two calls a day from their parents? Will parents ever stop controlling ever single detail of their kids’ life, or will it keep getting worse and worse and never turn back to the way it was? It sickens me to think of the (possible) extremes parents will go to in the future. I mean, if people are already controlling their children’s speech in public, what more can parents control? Who their kid flirts with, when and what pickup lines they use? People need to back off and calm down or else things are just going to get downright sicker. Your kids really will be OK if they don't speak four languages by age seven. I promise.

What Goes Around Comes Around-- Really.

2010-08-19T12:50:00.000-07:00

Back in the day, when I was a little college baby (man, I’m dating myself already!) I interned in the newsroom of a major business news magazine in Manhattan. It was beyond an amazing experience, maybe not the work itself but the whole living in the city as a 21 year old, staying out way too late, having a little too much fun and definitely spending a little more money than I should have been.
Years later (I won’t tell you how many though) I’m still using what I learned from my entire experience that summer. For example, I can still look back on the nights that I didn’t come home until the sun came up. Bad idea. Fun at the time, but really, bad idea. Going on dates with boring accountants? Also might seem like a good idea at the time, but when you’re sitting at the table in a Thai restaurant and your date can only discuss the best times to file your income taxes, you soon learn that accepting the date was also a bad idea.

But, of course, we also learn good ideas while misbehaving-- err, uh, having a good time-- during a more wild part of our lives. Who would have thought that it’s always wise to keep a little toilet paper in your purse when heading out to the bars? We really have no way of knowing when that place that offers $5 free refil Bud Lites will run out!

And that you should always be aware of your surroundings. You never know when you’ll overhear a fashion designer talking to a religious Jewish man in a 24-hour deli at 2:30am. They might both then ask your opinion on fabrics to pair for fashionable yalmukes, or Jewish head coverings. You also never know when a NYU law student will approach you while you’re eating hot dogs in the middle of the night in Union Square, offer to read your tarrot cards and, believe it or not, be correct in saying that you’re going to have a fabulous sexcapade in the fall. Not kidding here, by the way. Both really happened.

What I also learned was that it’s more useful than I realized to stay in contact with all of the people you meet on these interesting journeys. I certainly don’t have the name of the law student, and I definitely don’t know if the men in the diner ever successfully developed a JCrew-esque designer yalmukah line. I probably should have kept his card though-- who knows how famous he might be now!

I wouldn’t have realized but the people I met that summer have helped me in ways greater than they would have imagined since then. The intern coordinator at the magazine? Unbelievably kind and helpful whenever I email her with a writing question. My friends that I met at work? A couple are still close to me and help me get through each and every day at work-- thanks, Gchat!

But, what I’m realizing now is that these relationships really are reciprocal. I’m trying to not laugh out loud at my desk right now, but it’s hard not to. Here’s why:

I recently learned that a reporter from the magazine was in search of stories from real people who had quit their job in a funny way. I wasn’t sure that what I did to my awful boss was funny per se, but it was definitely a bit dramatic and perhaps just what this kid was looking for. (I wrote about my bad boss on this blog back on May 19th.)

Essentially I had been abused for months upon months but, like so many Americans, I couldn’t quit my job because I needed the health insurance and the money. But, when I finally had another job lined up, I happened to know that Mr. Asshole was on the side of the road somewhere waiting to get his car towed. I recognized that it was the perfect opportunity to finally stand up for myself, explain how I had been mistreated and quit my job. Ultimately, of course, this made his life more difficult-- he had to interview people and hire and train someone new. Poor baby. Real work can be exhausting!

Anyway, this supposedly is just the type of story that this writer was looking for. I don’t know that I would have qualified this story as “funny” but it’s certainly a good example of how, as I said in the last post, karma is a bitch. It also shows that it’s important to maintain our connections with other people, not just so we can help ourselves but so we can help others. In this case, I think I can aruge that I helped both the reporter and myself: he got his story, I got the satisfaction of saying my piece. Now I’m not out to hurt anyone or damage anyone’s reputation, but ahh, revenge is sweet, isn’t it?

Marcel The Shell With Shoes On

2010-08-18T17:21:00.000-07:00

Watch it and love it:
http://www.vimeo.com/14190306

It'll make you laugh. And if it doesn't then... well... you need to lighten up and enjoy life a little more! I do have to wonder how a person comes up with these ideas (I know, I know, you're thinking "DRUGS, DUH!") and also how someone realizes that they know how to do this type of voice. But, I must say, Jenny Slate is quite talented and her improvised comedy definitely gave me a good laugh.

Why You Shouldn't Prostitute Yourself-- On Craigslist

2010-08-16T09:11:00.000-07:00

Usually when the media is obsessing over some scandal or crime I like to run the other way. After all, how many times can I read and re-read articles about the shootings in the liquor warehouse in Hartford, CT? Tragic, horrific, awful, sad, disgusting? Yes, yes, yes, yes and YES. The Dow and S&P down for the fifth day in a row-- slightly disturbing? Sure. But does it really help us to keep hearing about this over and over again? Obviously not.

On rare occasion, though, one of these sensational stories catches my attention-- or the attention of countless people, really-- and we can’t get enough. We crave more juicy details, become excited at the prospect of hearing yet another personal account of the story.

Take the Chandra Levy case of a handful of years back-- truly sick and twisted but, at the same time, exceptionally captivating and thrilling. Or, one of my favorite pieces of news coverage of all time: the mass-murder of The Heaven’s Gate cult out in California. This one was beyond upsetting and horrible, yet its succession of exceptionally bizarre and demented events kept us all on our toes seeking as much information as we could get. Same went for the Jaycee Duggard kidnapping case, Natalee Hollaway’s murder and Laci Peterson’s abduction. All sick and saddening, yet all enthralling.

Now another sadistic killer has struck and-- BIG SURPRISE-- the media has jumped on the story faster than yo momma pounced your best friend. DUM DUM DUM... THE CRAIGSLIST KILLER.

This sicko crafted an interesting story for us. He really did. Venturing into supposed uncharted territory, he arranged to meet Craiglists prostitutes in Boston hotels and allegedly killed them during their hotel meetings. Funny how this works, but he ultimately found himself in jail, and I’m sure that the accommodations differ slightly than those at the Westin Copley in Boston where he started off this little adventure.

Well over a year after this entire ordeal, guards found him dead with a plastic bag over his head and a major artery sliced open in his jail cell. (Ahh, the benefits of a med school education...) The day he died happened to be the day that would have been his one-year wedding anniversary, had his fiance not broken off the engagement. Sad. So sad I forgot to cry.

The media has certainly hyped up this story-- so much so, in fact, that if you search Google News for his name, Philip Markoff, you get 367 results. Nothing like a nobody becoming a somebody overnight. Or during the day. I think he met some of his victims for sex and killing during the day.

So why, I must wonder, is a story this absolutely morbid, one that we all choose to focus on? Why is it one that the media really can get so much attention from? I’m not sure about you, but I personally don’t sit and think about serial killers all day, and I certainly don’t contemplate the ways that other people kill themselves. But that’s just me.

I think that, underneath it all, with a story like this we all realize deep down that we can learn something. On the most obvious of levels, we can realize that we shouldn’t meet strangers for sex in private hotel rooms. But I think (or hope) that most of us know that already.

I also think that we can learn that we should trust our instincts. Initially we heard accounts of his fiance saying she didn’t think he’d “hurt a fly,” but now all these other testimonies are coming out from other people who knew him personally. Like the girl who was his friend from college who said he once walked her home at night (like any of her guy friends would) and he pushed her up against the wall and kissed her so hard she couldn’t escape. Ding ding ding-- warning sign of a bigger problem! But, please let me make it clear that in no way would I expect this innocent girl to have predicted his future behaviors. But really, were his actions on that night acceptable? And who’s to say he wouldn’t take that behavior further? Because, well, he did. It might not have been with this college friend, but it was with other women like her, just years later. (Well, maybe not exactly like her because I don’t think she was a prostitute, but still, other girls!)

Most importantly, I think we have to be aware of our surroundings. Like I’ve explained over and over again in the past, it takes a long time for someone’s true colors to shine through. Now, I’m not hinting that the guy who oh-so-badly wants to kiss you is a serial killer. Most likely he just likes you a lot and wants a smooch! I’m also not suggesting that you take time to evaluate if your boyfriend is a murderer. Most likely he’s not. I promise.

If a situation ever feels too intense (in the dating world or otherwise) it’s not only OK but also a good idea to stop, take a step back and evaluate the situation. As much as the Craigslist Killer story has taken up my attention when I’m bored and have nothing to read about, I’d much rather be twiddling my thumbs than to be reading about a naive girl and how her foolish mistakes led her to danger-- or worse.

For more on the Craigslist Killer, visit http://www.boston.com/news/local/breaking_news/2010/08/accused_craigsl_2.html

Bitches in Stitches

2010-08-12T12:33:00.000-07:00

A Little Housekeeping
So, as you may have noticed, I haven’t been signing my posts anymore. Actually, you probably haven’t realized this, or at least I hope you haven’t noticed this trivial little detail. I haven’t been signing because these posts have all been by me over the past couple of months. Because of a busy work schedule, S was unable to blog for a while. I’m happy to announce that she now can and does post her stories. Check out her blog, Sara For Sale, at www.saraforsale.blogspot.com. You can be sure that we’ll be writing some posts that go back and forth to each others’, mainly because on some things we think so similarly that it’s scary and, on others, you’d think we might as well have been born on different planets.

As for “Bitches in Stitches,” yes, we’re still both bitches and you better believe that we are still very much both in stitches quite a lot of the time! The blog name is too fun and way too accurate to give up. For that reason I’m keeping it even though I'm the only bitch writing. Or maybe because my readers are now the bitches in stitches. Either way, this blog is here to stay and I’ll now be linking you from time to time to bonus posts that S writes.

Now to the Point
Today is the first day that S. and I really decided that we should start linking our writing and, what a more perfect opportunity than the day after she had a little guy drama! Most of you can imagine-- if for no reason other than you do the same thing with your friends-- that S and I talk a lot of the day during work. All that talking sometimes leads to something productive like--oh hey-- this blog!

Apparently there’s some guy that S. has been on a number of dates with. He was supposed to cook her dinner tonight until he found out last minute that he has to take a client out tonight. Boss’s orders. It happens. So he was kind enough to call her in advance, reschedule for Sunday (good luck, S!) and, not only that, he apologized! He explained that he didn’t like that he had to do this, that he felt guilty about it, that he hates when work commitments come up unexpectedly.

Now, don’t get me wrong, S. was a little disappointed that she would’t have the chance to allow him to show off his culinary skills (and perhaps other skills...) tonight. But, was she mad like a lot of girls would be? No.

Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think a lot of girls (I’d even venture to say “a majority of girls”) would have been peeved, ticked off to the point that they’d be overtly angry. That, or it would be the girl stewing and not this boy’s dinner tonight. One or the other. I mean, it’s ok to be annoyed when we get blown off, right? (With the understanding that sometimes legitimate things do come up, like in this instance, of course!)

If this boy hadn’t rescheduled with her I’d argue that, duh, he’s just not that into her. But he did, so that’s something we don’t even have to consider here. What should be considered, though, is S’s reaction to the situation.

What did she do? She told him it was ok. She told him that really, he could stop apologizing. She understood what happened because, well, life happens.

And then she explained to him the most important part of all: she actually likes that he has commitments in his life that don’t involve her. It’s great that he has business plans and other social plans, she continued. I LIKE THAT HE HAS A LIFE, she remarked when telling me this morning.

This is one of those issues where S. and I are like a match made in heaven-- in terms of friendship, you wishful thinking boys! This is where I agree with her wholeheartedly that, yes, it’s great he has other elements of his life besides just pursuing his girl(s) of interest. He’s not focusing all of his energies on her (although you can bet he’s spending a great deal of time thinking about her!) and he’s allowing himself to continue his life pre-S. And that’s exactly how she wants it.

Of course I’m exaggerating a little. Sure it’s important that he fits her into his life if he wants her to be a part of it, and yes some things have to change in his routine in order to fit in a girl. Likewise, she also has to make an effort to fit HIM in. (Ew I don’t mean it like that! They haven’t had that many dates yet!!!) Every relationship takes some sort of time and effort, no matter if it’s brand new or decades old. But it shouldn’t take all of anyone’s time, or then it’s just what at least I personally would deem unhealthy.

It would honestly be very much peculiar if this boy were to drop everything and clear his calendar in order to spend every waking moment staring into her dreamy eyes and catering to her every need. It would even be weird if he cancelled poker night with his boys or dinner with his family just to spend time with her. She’d be freaked out, and rightly so.

Anyway, what I’m getting at here is the importance of each person in a relationship having their own life. Sure, two lives can merge here and there, but really, it’s important to maintain separate activities and friends to some degree. S’s worst fear is basically that some guy will spend too much time doting on her. Maybe that’s not what most girls fear, but really, I think I have to go with her on this one. It’s just creepy if a guy gives up courtside seats to basketball games all the time just to see you. But once and a while, if you don’t tell anyone (shh!) I might admit that it’s kind of a nice compliment.

Which brings me back to my ultimate point: if he spends ALL his time with you always, it just doesn’t feel as special anymore, does it?

XOXO,
R

Used to Being Used

2010-08-09T12:49:00.000-07:00

If you’re in the mood to read something light and perky, this probably isn’t the post for you today. Maybe Google “smiling puppies” or “I just got laid,” but don’t keep on reading.

Why? Because I’ve got a bone to pick. Or, let’s put it this way: a lot of my friends want to pick this very same bone, but I’m going to do it on behalf of all of us because, well, no bone really deserves the invasion of that many digging fingernails.

I think I always had this idealized version of social life floating around in my head-- that by the time we graduated high school we would be over our petty gossip stage, that past middle school we would stop backstabbing each other. And, you know what? I thought we’d stop using each other-- especially using the people we consider our friends-- because I thought that by now we’d be mature and socially aware enough to know that people would catch on to our behaviors.

I was wrong. Very wrong. So wrong that I should probably be embarrassed to admit that I thought people would get past this stage.

How could I have thought that people would actually grow up and start treating each other well? Did I really think that people would treat me as I wished to be treated, and that people would consistently have genuine intentions when interacting with me?

As I’m writing I’m realizing that you might have no idea what I’m alluding to. In a quick and simple explanation, here it goes: people use each other. For all things. During good times and bad, during childhood, adulthood and even old age. It’s a sick fact of life, but it’s definitely a true one.

“Friends” have ulterior motives in their interactions all the time. “Uh, hey, could you translate this into French for me? I mean, I know we haven’t spoken in months, but you’re good at French and I’m not...” or “I know I’ve failed to include you in any social activities recently, but like, my car broke down, and I really need a ride to the shop... if you could please help me out this one time...”

A personal favorite was when someone I knew tried to get in touch with an old friend. Why did he want to befriend her again? To use her dad for his business connections, of course. Obviously neither the girl or her father would have caught on. Because no one has ever tried to benefit from her father’s good fortune ever before. No one has ever tried to benefit from a super wealthy man ever ever ever before. Who would think of doing such a thing?!

Or, recently, a girlfriend was complaining about how annoyed she was with a guy friend, J, because he had asked her to do a favor for him past midnight during the middle of the week. She explained that she did out of empathy, that she considered what it would be like to be in his shoes-- locked out of the house with a broken car-- and without anyone to help out.

So, J. had the guts to let her phone ring when she could have easily been sleeping, but did he ever even say thank you? No. He didn’t as much as utter a word of gratitude.

Now, I personally would have been forever indebted to her if she drove me across town in the middle of the night. Apparently, though, the rest of the world doesn’t think that way. It’s OK to only come crawling back to someone when you need them, rather than enjoy their company in both the good and the bad.

The kicker, though-- at least to me-- is that J. really has no idea that my friend knows he used her. He’s probably going on with his daily routine, driving down some Yellow Brick Road in that car that she helped him get fixed. My friend, though, is simmering at work over the fact that she actually considered J. a friend, all the while he made it clear that they’re only friends when it’s convenient for him.

What really gets me, though, is just that-- the people who use us are too socially incompetent to know that we know. (Does that remind anyone else of that Friends episode “Does she know we know she knows!?”) It becomes abundantly clear when someone is just asking me for a teeny favor because they need my help and not because they’d ever reciprocate.

Don’t invite me to your bridal shower (and not the wedding!) just for the gift, and don’t ask me to cover your shift at work just so you can hang out with that cute boy you just met. Just don’t. And, if you do, try to make it a little less obvious, k?

Before you ask me-- or anyone with any social awareness at all-- to edit your cover letter because I’m such a good writer (enough with the flattery, it doesn’t work) or to help you move when you have no intention of helping me (we all know I’m not a big, strong girl) realize this: we’re on to you. We know what you’re doing.

Maybe you’ll get away with it on occasion, but deep down, we’re aware of your intentions. Some people will fall for your stunts, and, hey, I applaud you for being that sly that you can get away with such actions. But anyone with an ounce of self dignity and awareness won’t. The beauty in the situation is that the more you do it, the more likely the naive souls you’re taking advantage of will realize what you’re doing. And that, my friends, allows me to end this post with some optimism and, yes, a real smile-- the goofy kind, like of the class clown who just caused the class to burst into laughter. Because, hey, wouldn’t it really be funny if all the people being used caught on and stopped allowing themselves to be used?

The (Childish) View of Gay Marriage and Proposition 8

2010-08-05T13:02:00.001-07:00

We all have memories from our childhood that we’ll never forget. For whatever reason, I have an absurd amount that I remember clearly, but I can’t remember the name of the new girl at work or that man I emailed with about a computer help question last week.

For me, some memories, like the one I’m about to share, really stand out years later. We were all four years old and a group of us were eating lunch around a rectangular table in our nursery school. I don’t know any of the context beyond that, but I can assume we were talking about how kids of the opposite sex have cooties. (Really, what else could we be talking about besides that, toys or birthday parties?)

Daniel, my best friend at the time, grabbed my juice box and made bumped it into mine.

“Boys marry boys, girls marry girls and juice boxes marry juice boxes!” he exclaimed with a matter of fact in his voice. Of course none of us stopped to think about how that’s not how the world works because, well, we didn’t know that. At the time, his idea seemed to make sense.

Little did I know, of course, that this four year old’s dream of how things in our society should operate paralleled the deep desires of countless homosexual and heterosexual people in our country. On a day to day basis, how many people wake up wishing they could be legally married to their partner? How many (straight) people are pained by the fact that their friend or family member can’t marry the person of their choosing? The numbers are of course beyond my wildest ideas and I have no way to quantify these wishes.

That said, we all know that gay marriage has been an exceptionally hot-button issue in this country for quite some time now, and only has become more of a heated topic in the past week over California’s decision to slam down Proposition 8, or the law that says that gays in the state can’t legally marry.

Now, I don’t know about you, but I had always considered the State of California to be a pretty liberal one-- much more than other areas of the country where minorities are still treated unfairly across the board and where legislation has only superficially outlawed their mistreatment. Even when I was in the third grade and figuratively married to my best friend, we’d tell everyone that we wanted to actually get married. Did we know the implications of this statement? No, of course not. But did we know where we should go if we really wanted to get married? Yes, to California. Disneyland, to be exact. Because who wouldn’t want to get married in Disneyland?

So now, over the past year and the vote for Proposition 8, many Americans have grown disappointed with California . We’re saddened by it’s lack of liberalism and acceptance that we had always admired as one of its impressive and positive qualities.

Fortunately for the gay population in both California and, I think we could argue, the rest of the country, California has overturned this law-- for now. Of course it’s going to be an ugly, uphill battle from here, one that will involve The Surpreme Court, thousands upon thousands of protesters and countless dinner table debates.

What’s interesting, though, is that it seems at least that the kids of my generation (or the ones that I was surrounded by) got it right from the beginning. It’s clear that none of us would have been phased by marrying a child of the same gender (in some sick world where kids could get married) and that it would, in fact, almost be considered “more normal” for girls to marry or for boys to marry each other in our culture of cooties and disgust for the opposite sex. We were kids and we considered close relations between girls or between boys acceptable. Now we’re adults and a huge percentage of our country, including the majority of voters in California, now oppose these social and romantic ties. What happened?

This is a time where I’m going to say that we have to take a lesson from the kids. Think back to your childhood, when it didn’t matter who married who, as long as they were happy. Maybe our country isn’t ready for juiceboxes to marry, and I’d honestly venture to aruge that there’s not a single protester fighting for this cause in front of the California statehouse right now. But shouldn’t we be at least ready to accept the loving and happy ideas of some innocent kids who held a very serious business meeting over peanut butter sandwiches?

Here’s a New One: American Royalty Marries a Jew

2010-08-04T12:20:00.000-07:00

When a friend suggested that I blog about Chelsea Clinton’s wedding to Marc Mezvinsky, I definitely considered it but wasn’t really sure what angle to take. Everyone and their mom had been speculating about this wedding and its celebration for weeks, yet all we seemed to know for sure was that the guests would be using rented porcelain porta-potties. And now, even though it’s after the fact, we don’t know a ton more about the event, although we do know that the food options included vegan and vegetarian and gluten-free choices-- the most thrilling and important details, of course.

So I got it into my head that I’d write about the wedding. As did everyone else who writes anything about current events, celebrity gossip or anything relating to the two. But what, really, could I comment on that would be unique and not yet over-written?

Discuss how Chelsea married a Jewish man, of course, this friend suggested. Not only that, but also how so many “famous” gentile women in America have chosen to marry Jewish in recent times.

Granted, this friend is a much better follower of Perez Hilton (www.perezhilton.com) and is much more up to date with her celebrity juice than I am, but I realized she was right. This has become a more common occurrence recently-- or at least a more media covered trend. She also referenced Ivanka Trump and Jared Kushner as another prime and relevant example.

This idea was still brewing in my head as I stumbled across a New York Times article this morning: Interfaith Marriages Stir Mixed Feelings by Joseph Berger. (See http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/04/us/04interfaith.html?_r=1&scp=3&sq=clinton&st=cse). First off, let it be known that this author references the same trend, especially by noting that Caroline Kennedy married Edwin A. Schlossberg, a Jew internationally recognized for design, writing and art. The point here? My friend clearly recognized a rage before the NY Times was able to write about it. Good work, RM!

What’s interesting about this article, though, is how it illustrates the important role of religion in this ex-Presidential daughter’s big day. Sure, many interfaith weddings incorporate traditions from both of the spouse’s faiths, but in this wedding the Jewish aspects were especially apparent. Not only were the two married under a chuppah, or marriage cannopy, but they also signed a Jewish marriage licsense, called a ketubah. In addition, the groom wore a Jewish prayer shawl, which, as the author noted, “even many Jewish grooms marrying Jewish brides do not wear.”

Why is all this important? Who’s going to care in a couple of years what Chelsea Clinton’s husband wore to their wedding? Don’t get me wrong, but I think if you were to ask Joan Rivers or anyone on the E! channel, it’s most important that Chelsea wore an elegant Vera Wang gown? I didn’t think that people usually commented on the groom’s attire because, let’s be honest, it’s not usually that unique or important. Unless he’s sporting his dog’s leash with his dog attached as he walks down the aisle. Then it’d be worth commenting on. And, believe me, it’s been done before.

What this article really proves, though, is that it’s become more acceptable on a societal level for both non-Jews (like Chelsea) to marry Jews, and, on the contrary, for Jews to marry outside of their faith. We see here that it has become more or less acceptable for Chelsea, a girl who is basically as close to American royalty as they come, to-- dare I say it-- marry a Jewish man. Perhaps years ago important political figures wouldn’t have wanted their daughter marrying someone whose grandmother probably stuffs everyone silly at the table with matzoh balls and kugel. However, it seems that our society has now transcended some boundaries somewhere along the way to make this happen.

Of course plenty of people (even many reading this) still find themselves opposed to this move on the part of Chelsea. Not only that, but countless people disapprove of a “nice Jewish boy” marrying a practicing Methodist.

But really, it’s interesting to take a step back and look at this situation critically from a distance. We’ve made huge steps in terms of acceptance and equality in this country. And, before you know it, maybe the White House will be serving corned beef sandwiches and kosher dill pickles for lunch. Really, you never know! After all, Michelle Obama’s cousin is Jewish, too... but that’s a whole other story.

For now, though, let’s recognize that this event in some ways marked a momentous occasion not only for the Clintons but for people of various non-Christian religions in America. Oh, yea, and that Chelsea’s wedding cost more than most of us make in the first decade of our working careers. But who’s keeping track, anyway?

Legally Married... and Dating with Permission

2010-08-03T12:03:00.001-07:00

I’ve heard some pretty interesting stories of ex-spouses over the years. People who were divorced yet would still share a bed with their (mutual) children also living in the house. Couples who split legally yet would still date and even sleep together. Personally, I thought the point of divorce was to divorce yourself from your partner, but maybe I’ve been mislead all this time.

Then there are the stories of those not actually divorced (in fact, they’re still married) yet one or both of the partners has another significant other on the side. Whoa, confusing even in writing it, no? One example in particular pops into my mind. I know of a couple who have been married for years and years. Their lengthy marriage, though, didn’t stop a third character from entering their relationship. The husband has had a longtime girlfriend, but in no way has that caused his wife to end things with him.

In fact, what has happened since the introduction of this second woman is completely counter intuitive. You’d think the wife would be horrified, right? That she’d obviously leave her husband immediately? Nope, not at all. I know you won’t believe it when I say it, but now the couple has turned into a threesome-- although I don’t mean that in the sexual way. Perhaps I really should mean in that way, but I don’t know the details in that department.

What I do know, though, is that the three are often spotted out to dinner together and sometimes show up at parties as a group. I don’t know the specifics of their arrangement and I certainly have no idea how a wife is comfortable with sharing her husband with another lady. But maybe that’s not important. If it works for them, who am I to judge?

So for the entire time that I’ve know about this situation, I had foolishly assumed that it was unique. Who would have known, though, that these people were, in essence, a product of their time, foreshadowing an up and coming trend in America?

This week, The New York Times’s Pamela Paul just published a story called The Un-Divorced. (See http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/01/fashion/01Undivorced.html). I quote the following paragraph regarding Warrn Buffet from her article-- a statement that seems to parallel the previously described scenario:

Mr. Buffett separated from his wife, Susan, in 1977 but remained married to her until her death in 2004. All the while, he lived with Astrid Menks; they married in 2006. The threesome remained close, even sending out holiday cards signed, “Warren, Susan and Astrid.”

Um... right. A holiday card from the three of them. That’s just as normal as if they were to birth a child with genes from all three of them.

Here’s another interesting one:

Jann and Jane Wenner separated in 1995 after 28 years but are still married, despite Mr. Wenner’s romantic relationship with a man.

It’s interesting to note that Wenner not only has three sons with his wife, but also another three children with his partner. Again, another situation that, at least to me, is so difficult to comprehend and rationalize that it’s difficult to type.

Now, I, for one, certainly would want to remain married and committed (legally at least) to a man who was romantically involved with another man. There’s nothing I’d want more, in fact, than to share the man I’ve committed myself to with another person. But that’s just me.

Anyway, it’s important to read the entire article to get a full picture of this current sociological trend. What I think the article provides us with, though, is an interesting commentary on the current state of living in the US.

How pathetic is it, for example, that people have to stay married just so that they can share health insurance? Or what about the fact that the legalities of divorce can be so difficult to navigate that people would rather remain components of an unhappy marriage than to deal with the obstacles of the system?

At the end of the piece, the author makes the point that “not being divorced is also an excuse not to marry.”

Touché.

Would you really have the energy in you to remarry if you had just spent decades sharing your “soulmate” with another person? At that point, I’d rather just be alone-- without any cats, thank you very much-- than to deal with marriage ever again.