OK Y'all,
So I was reading this article the other day about what makes men and women 'undateable.' It had your standard answers of, 'too much baggage,' 'bad kisser,'etc. It also had one choad who said, 'a woman who farts in her sleep.' Wow. First of all, this ass clown doesn't have the sense to realize that women don't actually KNOW that they fart in their sleep. We have no control over bodily functions when we are REM-ing it up, so I place the onus squarely on the other party when it comes to taking responsibility for dealing with odoriforous emanations during slumber. Anyhoosle, this article got me thinking about my own situation and what qualities I have that make me dateable or undateable. I chose to focus on the positive, so I compiled a list of the traits I possess that I think make me a swell gal and the traits that I felt men took into consideration. I call them :
Things I Think Make Me Dateable
1. Quick witted sense of humor that is very rarely offended
2. Ability to cook and bake
3. Awesome trivia skills
4. Good skin, hair, teeth, and overall health
5. Enjoyment of a variety of activities that guys partake in, like hiking, sports, and chicken wing eating contests
6. Physically low maintenance so it doesnt take 10 years to get ready
Things That Men Think Make Me Dateable
1. Big Tits.
That's pretty much it. If I'm wrong, please tell me in the comments, but I doubt it. Happy dating!
Showing posts with label dating. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dating. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Cool It Now
OK Y’all,
So I just read this article online about a guy who is willing to donate half his salary as a gift to a charity of your choice, if—and here’s the kicker—you are a lady of age 18-49 who is willing to marry this chump. Yes, you read that right…he’s breaking the cardinal rule of the Beatles and trying to use money to buy love. This fellow has a blogger site just like I have here, and he has posted 38 reasons why single women should love him but don’t. Let me just give you a few examples of these ‘reasons’ and you can tell me what you think after I tell you what I think (Granted, many of these reasons are meant to be tongue in cheek, but I find it a fatally flawed approach on several levels. I like humor as much as the next girl, but this guy is not funny, he’s just sad).
1. He says he has bad skin so he will ‘grow a beard for you.’ I understand that everyone gets a zit now and again, and some get them more than others. But you do not, I repeat DO NOT, need to advertise this fact if you are trying to attract ladies. Even if you think it is funny and disarmingly honest, I am here to tell you it is TMI and you will not profit from it. Guaranteed the first thing any gal is thinking when she reads that lil tidbit is, OMG this dude is a walking Proactiv before picture—Abort! Abort! Chicks don’t want to sit and think about all your grody comedogenic issues and reminding girls about it is certainly not helping your case. In this instance, being self-deprecating is not winning you any points, it’s just grossing out your potential mates who would have otherwise not even noticed or chosen to overlook your dermatological maladies.
2. He says he has never had a girlfriend, ever. Now, this fellow is 38 years old, and he looks a lot like Andy Torres on Cougar Town. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, look it up. Seriously, do it now. I’ll wait…..ok, great. Now, I’m sure there is a segment of the female population who digs that look. I am not one of them, but there is somebody for everybody. He has tried multiple methods of procuring a date, including online dating, and has done some stupid things for women he was interested in. So I therefore find it a bit odd that he would not have at least dated a girl here and there for a month or two until she opened the medicine cabinet and found all of his Clean and Clear products. But, assuming that he is not trying to be humorous and he really hasn’t had a lady companion, I have to imagine the sole reason for that is a little thing we call Desperation. Chicks can smell it on you a mile away, just like dudes can. Best case scenario you might get someone to take advantage of your pathetic situation and throw you a pity lay here and there, but if you’re serious about acquiring the company of a honest to god woman, you can’t come off as even slightly desperate. Women like self confident men; guys who could give two shits if they have a date on Friday night as long as there is a sporting event and beer nearby. Women like to feel as if you have chosen their company over all others, not like they are being trailed by a stalker who has nothing going for them.
3. He took a picture of himself without a shirt on and then makes fun of how hairy and chunky he is. Again, I cannot reiterate this enough, WE GET IT. I have dated plenty of guys who were not exactly Dash Riprock in the physical fitness department and I had absolutely no problem with it. In fact, I like my dudes a little chunky. And I am not Miss America either. I have ‘problem areas’ that I could work on. But I am also not willingly posting photos of said areas and telling men that I have more to love. I sometimes get caught in photos during the summer in my swimsuit and that is mortifying enough. So keep it covered, buddy. Any self respecting gal is not going to look at that photo and think, ‘wow, what I really need is an acne riddled Wookiee in my life to keep me company.’
Those are just a few of the reasons he gives, and there are many more. Some are very heartfelt, like his penchant for rescuing animals and being reliable. But if you are trying to present yourself in the best light possible, some things are best left to the imagination, or at least to the third date. There is such a thing as being too honest and too self-deprecating. It makes you look like you have zero self-esteem, and that is not attractive. Calling yourself “Handsome Paul” and saying such things doesn’t help either.
Ok, that’s all I’ve got—give me your thoughts, rants, raves, comments. Just don’t tell me about your skin care regimen.
So I just read this article online about a guy who is willing to donate half his salary as a gift to a charity of your choice, if—and here’s the kicker—you are a lady of age 18-49 who is willing to marry this chump. Yes, you read that right…he’s breaking the cardinal rule of the Beatles and trying to use money to buy love. This fellow has a blogger site just like I have here, and he has posted 38 reasons why single women should love him but don’t. Let me just give you a few examples of these ‘reasons’ and you can tell me what you think after I tell you what I think (Granted, many of these reasons are meant to be tongue in cheek, but I find it a fatally flawed approach on several levels. I like humor as much as the next girl, but this guy is not funny, he’s just sad).
1. He says he has bad skin so he will ‘grow a beard for you.’ I understand that everyone gets a zit now and again, and some get them more than others. But you do not, I repeat DO NOT, need to advertise this fact if you are trying to attract ladies. Even if you think it is funny and disarmingly honest, I am here to tell you it is TMI and you will not profit from it. Guaranteed the first thing any gal is thinking when she reads that lil tidbit is, OMG this dude is a walking Proactiv before picture—Abort! Abort! Chicks don’t want to sit and think about all your grody comedogenic issues and reminding girls about it is certainly not helping your case. In this instance, being self-deprecating is not winning you any points, it’s just grossing out your potential mates who would have otherwise not even noticed or chosen to overlook your dermatological maladies.
2. He says he has never had a girlfriend, ever. Now, this fellow is 38 years old, and he looks a lot like Andy Torres on Cougar Town. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, look it up. Seriously, do it now. I’ll wait…..ok, great. Now, I’m sure there is a segment of the female population who digs that look. I am not one of them, but there is somebody for everybody. He has tried multiple methods of procuring a date, including online dating, and has done some stupid things for women he was interested in. So I therefore find it a bit odd that he would not have at least dated a girl here and there for a month or two until she opened the medicine cabinet and found all of his Clean and Clear products. But, assuming that he is not trying to be humorous and he really hasn’t had a lady companion, I have to imagine the sole reason for that is a little thing we call Desperation. Chicks can smell it on you a mile away, just like dudes can. Best case scenario you might get someone to take advantage of your pathetic situation and throw you a pity lay here and there, but if you’re serious about acquiring the company of a honest to god woman, you can’t come off as even slightly desperate. Women like self confident men; guys who could give two shits if they have a date on Friday night as long as there is a sporting event and beer nearby. Women like to feel as if you have chosen their company over all others, not like they are being trailed by a stalker who has nothing going for them.
3. He took a picture of himself without a shirt on and then makes fun of how hairy and chunky he is. Again, I cannot reiterate this enough, WE GET IT. I have dated plenty of guys who were not exactly Dash Riprock in the physical fitness department and I had absolutely no problem with it. In fact, I like my dudes a little chunky. And I am not Miss America either. I have ‘problem areas’ that I could work on. But I am also not willingly posting photos of said areas and telling men that I have more to love. I sometimes get caught in photos during the summer in my swimsuit and that is mortifying enough. So keep it covered, buddy. Any self respecting gal is not going to look at that photo and think, ‘wow, what I really need is an acne riddled Wookiee in my life to keep me company.’
Those are just a few of the reasons he gives, and there are many more. Some are very heartfelt, like his penchant for rescuing animals and being reliable. But if you are trying to present yourself in the best light possible, some things are best left to the imagination, or at least to the third date. There is such a thing as being too honest and too self-deprecating. It makes you look like you have zero self-esteem, and that is not attractive. Calling yourself “Handsome Paul” and saying such things doesn’t help either.
Ok, that’s all I’ve got—give me your thoughts, rants, raves, comments. Just don’t tell me about your skin care regimen.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Ground Control to Major Tom...
OK Y’all,
There is a serious problem affecting 99.9% of the general population of people ages 18-45. It’s a disease that is easily prevented and commonly discussed, but rarely do people know they have it until the infection has cleared. It affects the neurological pathways of the body, eating away at precious brain function, and it’s high time we banded together and did something about this devastating malady. That’s right, I’m talking about Parked Up Socialization Syndrome, or PUSSy. Some FAQ’s about this travesty of an ailment are listed below. Please, read up on this horrible disease so you can prevent it in your own life and help those who have fallen victim to it before it’s too late.
What are the signs and symptoms of PUSSy?
The number one sign that someone is developing this disease is the sudden and permeating presence of a member of the opposite sex in the victim’s daily life, aka becoming ‘parked up.’ This parasitic relationship causes the victim to lose the ability to call, text, email, or otherwise contact their friends and family whom they used to see on a very regular basis, aka ‘pitching them in the river.’ Doctors believe this sudden change of neural function is due to the victim’s head becoming lodged in their partner’s rectum at a very deep level, thus suffocating the areas responsible for rational thought and feeling. The victim now solely socializes with the partner of the opposite sex. Victims lose the ability to think for themselves in the singular, and use words like “we” and “us” when describing their day to day activities. The victim will also be unable to host or attend social functions, and on the rare occasion that they do, they will leave early, isolate themselves from the rest of the group with their opposite sex partner, and be unable to be tolerated by those who enjoy keeping their food down, as nauseating public displays of affection are common with the victim and their partner. Additional symptoms include a complete 180 in behavioral tendencies, again due to the loss of neural function. These tendencies can range from minor idiosyncrasies to major turns of events, such as a sudden affinity for pets where there was none before.
What treatment is available for PUSSy? Is it curable?
Unfortunately the only cure for PUSSy is the eradication of the opposite sex partner, either by forcible means or by the partner’s detachment to find another host. This detachment or eradication is hard to predict and in some cases never happens at all, leaving the victim as good as dead to their friends and family. Traditional treatment options have had limited success at best, and have historically only proved to intensify the disease in the victim. Traditional methods have included verbally bashing the victim for their lack of contact, teasing, disengagement by friends and family, and overt insults to the partner. All of these methods simply serve to isolate the victim and their partner even further, thus deluding the victim into thinking that the partner is the only source of socialization, relief, and understanding from the disease. Alternative treatments are being investigated at this time, but unfortunately the best method is still to allow this disease to run its course and hope the victim can clear the infection on their own.
How do I know if I have PUSSy?
As mentioned previously, many times the only way to know one has this horrible infestation of the mind is to clear the infection and retrospectively diagnose oneself. Rarely, victims will come to the realization during an uncommon moment of clarity, usually when their heads are not attached to, or inserted in, their partner’s rectum. If this happens, immediate steps must be taken to alleviate the symptoms. Remediation includes spending copious amounts of time with the abandoned friends, reduced contact with the host, and resuming daily function as a singular entity as much as possible. Alas, many victims experience a difficult and serious withdrawal from their host and ultimately relapse multiple times or even for good.
So folks, please don’t let this happen to you. As you can see, it’s ugly, and it just gets worse. Prevention now!
There is a serious problem affecting 99.9% of the general population of people ages 18-45. It’s a disease that is easily prevented and commonly discussed, but rarely do people know they have it until the infection has cleared. It affects the neurological pathways of the body, eating away at precious brain function, and it’s high time we banded together and did something about this devastating malady. That’s right, I’m talking about Parked Up Socialization Syndrome, or PUSSy. Some FAQ’s about this travesty of an ailment are listed below. Please, read up on this horrible disease so you can prevent it in your own life and help those who have fallen victim to it before it’s too late.
What are the signs and symptoms of PUSSy?
The number one sign that someone is developing this disease is the sudden and permeating presence of a member of the opposite sex in the victim’s daily life, aka becoming ‘parked up.’ This parasitic relationship causes the victim to lose the ability to call, text, email, or otherwise contact their friends and family whom they used to see on a very regular basis, aka ‘pitching them in the river.’ Doctors believe this sudden change of neural function is due to the victim’s head becoming lodged in their partner’s rectum at a very deep level, thus suffocating the areas responsible for rational thought and feeling. The victim now solely socializes with the partner of the opposite sex. Victims lose the ability to think for themselves in the singular, and use words like “we” and “us” when describing their day to day activities. The victim will also be unable to host or attend social functions, and on the rare occasion that they do, they will leave early, isolate themselves from the rest of the group with their opposite sex partner, and be unable to be tolerated by those who enjoy keeping their food down, as nauseating public displays of affection are common with the victim and their partner. Additional symptoms include a complete 180 in behavioral tendencies, again due to the loss of neural function. These tendencies can range from minor idiosyncrasies to major turns of events, such as a sudden affinity for pets where there was none before.
What treatment is available for PUSSy? Is it curable?
Unfortunately the only cure for PUSSy is the eradication of the opposite sex partner, either by forcible means or by the partner’s detachment to find another host. This detachment or eradication is hard to predict and in some cases never happens at all, leaving the victim as good as dead to their friends and family. Traditional treatment options have had limited success at best, and have historically only proved to intensify the disease in the victim. Traditional methods have included verbally bashing the victim for their lack of contact, teasing, disengagement by friends and family, and overt insults to the partner. All of these methods simply serve to isolate the victim and their partner even further, thus deluding the victim into thinking that the partner is the only source of socialization, relief, and understanding from the disease. Alternative treatments are being investigated at this time, but unfortunately the best method is still to allow this disease to run its course and hope the victim can clear the infection on their own.
How do I know if I have PUSSy?
As mentioned previously, many times the only way to know one has this horrible infestation of the mind is to clear the infection and retrospectively diagnose oneself. Rarely, victims will come to the realization during an uncommon moment of clarity, usually when their heads are not attached to, or inserted in, their partner’s rectum. If this happens, immediate steps must be taken to alleviate the symptoms. Remediation includes spending copious amounts of time with the abandoned friends, reduced contact with the host, and resuming daily function as a singular entity as much as possible. Alas, many victims experience a difficult and serious withdrawal from their host and ultimately relapse multiple times or even for good.
So folks, please don’t let this happen to you. As you can see, it’s ugly, and it just gets worse. Prevention now!
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Young Guns
OK Y’all,
So I’ve noticed a trend lately in the dating scene that is a little odd to me. You see, growing up, Big E was the youngest or one of the youngest in her group of friends. It was not uncommon for her to be ostracized for her nubile status either. Naturally as she grew older, she made other friends, but even they were older or around her same age—then a strange thing started happening. As Big E got older, the boys she met started getting younger. She was no longer the youngest bird getting her fly on at the club. She was starting to be the puma prowling the dance floor, fist pumping to MJ because she actually remembered when he was black, while all the young’uns stared at her. So what did she do? She embraced it and started giving these lesser aged fellas a second look. And that brings us to the present.
I don’t know what it is, but here lately I’ve gone out with at least two boys who were significantly younger than me. I’m not talking jail bait, because I’m not THAT old myself, but young enough to where if we were really old we might die at the same time. I met these boys through random encounters with friends, and it wasn’t encounters where you would typically find much younger people in attendance like, say, a Justin Bieber concert. So I went with it, and in my handful of dates with these fellas, I realized that there were advantages and disadvantages to training a pup as opposed to trying to teach an old dog new tricks. My take:
1. Younger guys may not have the “experience” you’re looking for. Especially if you are a gal like myself of seasoned tenure and this ain’t your first rodeo. Younger guys have sometimes not had the opportunity to really develop the skills necessary to make your time together worthwhile. This is mainly because their opportunities have generally come at frat parties when severely inebriated and/or with young women of the same inexperienced ilk who probably have only heard the term “g-spot” in a really bad R&B song rhymed with “bedrock” (don’t ask me how I even know that).
The upside of this lack of know-how? You can train them to do what YOU want them to do. So if you’ve got a few tried and true favorites in your pantheon of moves, you can share them and make sure they are perfected with frequent practice. However, this does require your willingness to train, and willingness to be an encouraging coach. If you don’t feel like putting the time in, I understand. But just think—those young men are going to get older, and they’re STILL not going to know what to do, and then they’ll end up dating me and making me really unhappy.
2. Younger guys may lack comprehensive knowledge of iconic events from the decades past, because they weren’t alive yet. This happens to me all the time even with guys who are the same age as me, because I’m basically an 80’s music idiot savant, but it’s especially evident in the Gen Y set. If you weren’t born by the time the first Back to the Future came out, then there’s going to be a weensy generational gap to bridge for yous and me. It’s hard for me to feel comfortable making reference to Hall and Oates when you think that I’m describing a way to transport grains. And quite frankly, there is no upside to this. I think everyone should have at least a working knowledge of decades prior to their existence no matter what decade that is. I’m a huge fan of Andy Gibb. Granted he was hosting Solid Gold by the time I ever laid eyes on him, but I believe he and Victoria Principal had what it took to make it. Damn that cocaine! He could have been your everything! He WANTED to be!
3. Younger guys may not be as pecuniarily flush as you would like them to be, i.e., they’re broke. That’s extremely common these days amongst any age of person, but it does seem to skew toward the less aged rather than the more aged. And if you are interested in having a date paid for, this may not be your best route of affection. I have worked very hard over the past 15 years, supported myself for the past 10, and I’d really like to not have to support someone else. Or pay for his books. I’m not saying that I don’t appreciate someone who is really trying and maybe just doesn’t have the cashflow they need right way. I’m just saying those guys should maybe get some money from dear old Dad before attempting to take me out to dinner.
4. Younger guys are not as interested in commitment. I know, I know….NO guy is interested in commitment. I get it. Hell, I have plenty of women friends who aren’t interested in commitment. My point is, younger guys tend to want to play the field a lot more. The world is their oyster, and we ladies are but pearls. Many, many pearls of all shapes and sizes that these boys want to make sure they shuck right out of our shells. And this is why if you’re looking to get serious, you may be looking at the wrong fisherman. Because if he’s not done oyster trolling, you’re going to get shucked over. The upside, though, is that if you are a lady who is not interested in commitment, or you’ve just come off of a bad breakup and need an ego boost, there’s nothing like some young meat to set you right. You’ll feel like the sophisticated older woman for the night, and he will revere you as the experienced hottie that showed him a thing or two. As long as he’s not the young man in #1 who isn’t quite up to par in the horizontal mambo.
Alright, that’s all I’ve got…let me know what you think!
So I’ve noticed a trend lately in the dating scene that is a little odd to me. You see, growing up, Big E was the youngest or one of the youngest in her group of friends. It was not uncommon for her to be ostracized for her nubile status either. Naturally as she grew older, she made other friends, but even they were older or around her same age—then a strange thing started happening. As Big E got older, the boys she met started getting younger. She was no longer the youngest bird getting her fly on at the club. She was starting to be the puma prowling the dance floor, fist pumping to MJ because she actually remembered when he was black, while all the young’uns stared at her. So what did she do? She embraced it and started giving these lesser aged fellas a second look. And that brings us to the present.
I don’t know what it is, but here lately I’ve gone out with at least two boys who were significantly younger than me. I’m not talking jail bait, because I’m not THAT old myself, but young enough to where if we were really old we might die at the same time. I met these boys through random encounters with friends, and it wasn’t encounters where you would typically find much younger people in attendance like, say, a Justin Bieber concert. So I went with it, and in my handful of dates with these fellas, I realized that there were advantages and disadvantages to training a pup as opposed to trying to teach an old dog new tricks. My take:
1. Younger guys may not have the “experience” you’re looking for. Especially if you are a gal like myself of seasoned tenure and this ain’t your first rodeo. Younger guys have sometimes not had the opportunity to really develop the skills necessary to make your time together worthwhile. This is mainly because their opportunities have generally come at frat parties when severely inebriated and/or with young women of the same inexperienced ilk who probably have only heard the term “g-spot” in a really bad R&B song rhymed with “bedrock” (don’t ask me how I even know that).
The upside of this lack of know-how? You can train them to do what YOU want them to do. So if you’ve got a few tried and true favorites in your pantheon of moves, you can share them and make sure they are perfected with frequent practice. However, this does require your willingness to train, and willingness to be an encouraging coach. If you don’t feel like putting the time in, I understand. But just think—those young men are going to get older, and they’re STILL not going to know what to do, and then they’ll end up dating me and making me really unhappy.
2. Younger guys may lack comprehensive knowledge of iconic events from the decades past, because they weren’t alive yet. This happens to me all the time even with guys who are the same age as me, because I’m basically an 80’s music idiot savant, but it’s especially evident in the Gen Y set. If you weren’t born by the time the first Back to the Future came out, then there’s going to be a weensy generational gap to bridge for yous and me. It’s hard for me to feel comfortable making reference to Hall and Oates when you think that I’m describing a way to transport grains. And quite frankly, there is no upside to this. I think everyone should have at least a working knowledge of decades prior to their existence no matter what decade that is. I’m a huge fan of Andy Gibb. Granted he was hosting Solid Gold by the time I ever laid eyes on him, but I believe he and Victoria Principal had what it took to make it. Damn that cocaine! He could have been your everything! He WANTED to be!
3. Younger guys may not be as pecuniarily flush as you would like them to be, i.e., they’re broke. That’s extremely common these days amongst any age of person, but it does seem to skew toward the less aged rather than the more aged. And if you are interested in having a date paid for, this may not be your best route of affection. I have worked very hard over the past 15 years, supported myself for the past 10, and I’d really like to not have to support someone else. Or pay for his books. I’m not saying that I don’t appreciate someone who is really trying and maybe just doesn’t have the cashflow they need right way. I’m just saying those guys should maybe get some money from dear old Dad before attempting to take me out to dinner.
4. Younger guys are not as interested in commitment. I know, I know….NO guy is interested in commitment. I get it. Hell, I have plenty of women friends who aren’t interested in commitment. My point is, younger guys tend to want to play the field a lot more. The world is their oyster, and we ladies are but pearls. Many, many pearls of all shapes and sizes that these boys want to make sure they shuck right out of our shells. And this is why if you’re looking to get serious, you may be looking at the wrong fisherman. Because if he’s not done oyster trolling, you’re going to get shucked over. The upside, though, is that if you are a lady who is not interested in commitment, or you’ve just come off of a bad breakup and need an ego boost, there’s nothing like some young meat to set you right. You’ll feel like the sophisticated older woman for the night, and he will revere you as the experienced hottie that showed him a thing or two. As long as he’s not the young man in #1 who isn’t quite up to par in the horizontal mambo.
Alright, that’s all I’ve got…let me know what you think!
Friday, September 10, 2010
Paging Cupid...
OK Y'all,
So a friend of mine emailed me the other day with a proposal (and not one of the indecent ilk). He wanted to know if I would be interested in meeting a gentleman he works with. Of course I said yes, because everyone knows that you don't meet new people by sitting at home with your cats watching King of Queens re-runs at 6 and 6:30 on TBS--not that I would know anything about that AT ALL, but still. My friend gave me a basic description of said fella, and I inquired about a few other things, and this guy sounded like he might be a winner. I'll keep you posted on that. But what got me thinking was this idea of the "fix-up" and the process behind it. Allow me to pontificate for a moment.
The first thing that comes to mind when you think of someone is of critical importance, because that right there either puts them in the "Inbox" or the "Recycle Bin" of dateable prospects for your friends. It seems over the years I have earned the reputation, and deservedly so, of being a funny girl with a bad attitude and a penchant for the menfolk, gaudy jewelry, and glitter--a hooker with a heart of gold, if you will. And really, I'm good with that. It's a helluva lot better than being the one who has a giant mole on her face and got knocked up on purpose to try and trap her ex-boyfriend. Again, not that I know ANYBODY like that, just an example I'm throwing out there. So when my friends et al think of me, I am sure the image that comes to mind is of me at Studio 54 with some sort of glittery dress and even glittery makeup on, dancing with a swashbuckling younger gentleman as we laugh at my jokes and sip our martinis. In fact, I'm positive that's what they see now that I've written this. Go ahead, I'll give you a minute to marinate and let it really play out...
Ok, back to the blog in 3...2...1...
The point of this is, when these friends meet eligible bachelors in their every day dealings, their opinion of you has to be positive or they wouldn't bother trying to fix you up with said bachelor. Obviously if they are your friends they like you to a certain extent, but I believe it really says something extra about your character that they are willing to subject another stranger to you.
The other thing that strikes me about this situation is that your friends have to know what you are looking for in a potential partner before they set you up, and that can be a tricky thing sometimes. If you're really close friends, then they know you better than you know yourself, which, if you're anything like me, is a whole other blog to write about why they are still your friends. But if your friend is a new one, or one that you don't see as much of as you'd like, they may have to do some homework. What I like about my fix up is that my friend asked me if I had any interview questions before he set things into motion, and asked if I would like a group date or just a one on one. I appreciate this tactic and find it wise. You don't want to be on a solo blind date with a Marilyn Manson impersonator at the local rave when you are more of a football, beer and wings kind of lady. So if you're going to set up your friends, be sure to get the dealbreakers and provide support. They will thank you later, even if the date isn't a huge success. And you will thank yourself for being such a stand up matchmaker. It's common courtesy and that's something we are in short supply of these days, people!
So, what do you guys think of fix ups? Good, bad, ugly? Let me know. And wish me luck. I'm going to go find my best glittery eyeshadow.
So a friend of mine emailed me the other day with a proposal (and not one of the indecent ilk). He wanted to know if I would be interested in meeting a gentleman he works with. Of course I said yes, because everyone knows that you don't meet new people by sitting at home with your cats watching King of Queens re-runs at 6 and 6:30 on TBS--not that I would know anything about that AT ALL, but still. My friend gave me a basic description of said fella, and I inquired about a few other things, and this guy sounded like he might be a winner. I'll keep you posted on that. But what got me thinking was this idea of the "fix-up" and the process behind it. Allow me to pontificate for a moment.
The first thing that comes to mind when you think of someone is of critical importance, because that right there either puts them in the "Inbox" or the "Recycle Bin" of dateable prospects for your friends. It seems over the years I have earned the reputation, and deservedly so, of being a funny girl with a bad attitude and a penchant for the menfolk, gaudy jewelry, and glitter--a hooker with a heart of gold, if you will. And really, I'm good with that. It's a helluva lot better than being the one who has a giant mole on her face and got knocked up on purpose to try and trap her ex-boyfriend. Again, not that I know ANYBODY like that, just an example I'm throwing out there. So when my friends et al think of me, I am sure the image that comes to mind is of me at Studio 54 with some sort of glittery dress and even glittery makeup on, dancing with a swashbuckling younger gentleman as we laugh at my jokes and sip our martinis. In fact, I'm positive that's what they see now that I've written this. Go ahead, I'll give you a minute to marinate and let it really play out...
Ok, back to the blog in 3...2...1...
The point of this is, when these friends meet eligible bachelors in their every day dealings, their opinion of you has to be positive or they wouldn't bother trying to fix you up with said bachelor. Obviously if they are your friends they like you to a certain extent, but I believe it really says something extra about your character that they are willing to subject another stranger to you.
The other thing that strikes me about this situation is that your friends have to know what you are looking for in a potential partner before they set you up, and that can be a tricky thing sometimes. If you're really close friends, then they know you better than you know yourself, which, if you're anything like me, is a whole other blog to write about why they are still your friends. But if your friend is a new one, or one that you don't see as much of as you'd like, they may have to do some homework. What I like about my fix up is that my friend asked me if I had any interview questions before he set things into motion, and asked if I would like a group date or just a one on one. I appreciate this tactic and find it wise. You don't want to be on a solo blind date with a Marilyn Manson impersonator at the local rave when you are more of a football, beer and wings kind of lady. So if you're going to set up your friends, be sure to get the dealbreakers and provide support. They will thank you later, even if the date isn't a huge success. And you will thank yourself for being such a stand up matchmaker. It's common courtesy and that's something we are in short supply of these days, people!
So, what do you guys think of fix ups? Good, bad, ugly? Let me know. And wish me luck. I'm going to go find my best glittery eyeshadow.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Hallmark? We Don't Need No Stinking Hallmark!
OK Y'all,
So the Big E has had a tough time recently, boy trouble as it were, and she's been pretty upset about it. And like all red-blooded American females with a creative streak, she decided to channel her pain and anguish into a more productive outlet instead of sitting around stewing over revenge tactics (though if you're ever interested, let me know, I've got a ton of 'em). So what did she do? She came up with her own little set of greeting cards that would express her sentiments in a fun and exciting way! Doubtful that these will ever make it to the shelves, but honestly, it's Hallmark's loss. Because creativity is something that is not in short supply for Big E, and she is more than capable of printing these little ditties herself. Holla if you see one you need! Here goes:
1. OUTSIDE: Congratulations!!!
INSIDE: You tossed your yogurt in the wrong girl! Enjoy Fatherhood!
2. OUTSIDE: Dinner for Two: $60
Drinks after dinner: $20
Box of condoms: $7
INSIDE: Forgetting to use them : PRICELESS.
3. OUTSIDE: Pearls are white,
Like the load that you blew,
INSIDE: Here's hoping the baby
Actually looks like you! Congratulations!
4. OUTSIDE: You've really started something in my heart!
INSIDE: too bad you already started something in another woman's womb! Congratulations!
5. OUTSIDE: Baby, you touch my heart in so many ways--
INSIDE: Unfortunately you only had to touch her cervix once. Have a happy 9 months!
6. OUTSIDE: Darling, you gave me butterflies in my stomach--
INSIDE: You'll also be giving her child support! Have a great life!
7. OUTSIDE: Honey, you give me hope--
INSIDE: That there will be one more Assistant Manager of the Month at Waffle House in 18 years! Congratulations!
8. OUTSIDE: You make my heart skip a beat!
INSIDE: Too bad you decided to skip birth control when you cheated on me! Best wishes!
9. OUTSIDE: Sweetheart, I'm really falling for you--
INSIDE: It's too bad you fell into her vagina first! Hugs and kisses!
10: OUTSIDE: Recipe for a Family:
INSIDE: Start with 12 beers
1 narcissistic asshole
1 Unassuming Ditz
2 tsp. Baby Batter
Combine with a complete lack of self and birth control and a dash of gut wrenching guilt and bake at 98.6 degrees for 9 months. Voila! Instant family!
11. OUTSIDE: We're really going to miss you
INSIDE: By we, I mean me and your dignity. Happy Trails!
12. OUTSIDE: If I could change one thing...
INSIDE: I would've had you pull out of her as fast as you pulled out of our relationship. Mazeltov!
Alright! that's all I've got! Share your ideas and comments!
So the Big E has had a tough time recently, boy trouble as it were, and she's been pretty upset about it. And like all red-blooded American females with a creative streak, she decided to channel her pain and anguish into a more productive outlet instead of sitting around stewing over revenge tactics (though if you're ever interested, let me know, I've got a ton of 'em). So what did she do? She came up with her own little set of greeting cards that would express her sentiments in a fun and exciting way! Doubtful that these will ever make it to the shelves, but honestly, it's Hallmark's loss. Because creativity is something that is not in short supply for Big E, and she is more than capable of printing these little ditties herself. Holla if you see one you need! Here goes:
1. OUTSIDE: Congratulations!!!
INSIDE: You tossed your yogurt in the wrong girl! Enjoy Fatherhood!
2. OUTSIDE: Dinner for Two: $60
Drinks after dinner: $20
Box of condoms: $7
INSIDE: Forgetting to use them : PRICELESS.
3. OUTSIDE: Pearls are white,
Like the load that you blew,
INSIDE: Here's hoping the baby
Actually looks like you! Congratulations!
4. OUTSIDE: You've really started something in my heart!
INSIDE: too bad you already started something in another woman's womb! Congratulations!
5. OUTSIDE: Baby, you touch my heart in so many ways--
INSIDE: Unfortunately you only had to touch her cervix once. Have a happy 9 months!
6. OUTSIDE: Darling, you gave me butterflies in my stomach--
INSIDE: You'll also be giving her child support! Have a great life!
7. OUTSIDE: Honey, you give me hope--
INSIDE: That there will be one more Assistant Manager of the Month at Waffle House in 18 years! Congratulations!
8. OUTSIDE: You make my heart skip a beat!
INSIDE: Too bad you decided to skip birth control when you cheated on me! Best wishes!
9. OUTSIDE: Sweetheart, I'm really falling for you--
INSIDE: It's too bad you fell into her vagina first! Hugs and kisses!
10: OUTSIDE: Recipe for a Family:
INSIDE: Start with 12 beers
1 narcissistic asshole
1 Unassuming Ditz
2 tsp. Baby Batter
Combine with a complete lack of self and birth control and a dash of gut wrenching guilt and bake at 98.6 degrees for 9 months. Voila! Instant family!
11. OUTSIDE: We're really going to miss you
INSIDE: By we, I mean me and your dignity. Happy Trails!
12. OUTSIDE: If I could change one thing...
INSIDE: I would've had you pull out of her as fast as you pulled out of our relationship. Mazeltov!
Alright! that's all I've got! Share your ideas and comments!
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Six Degrees of Separation
OK Y’all,
So I was laying on my couch drinking an entire bottle of pinot grigio and incoherently babbling to my cat in an attempt to figure out what went wrong in my last dating foray when I had an idea. No, it wasn’t that I shouldn’t have had the whole bottle of wine, or even that I shouldn’t be talking to a cat, but this idea of Degrees of Dating. It’s not degrees as in education, but more degrees in terms of measurement—temperature and distance. Just to make it fun, I’ve come up with my own Six Degrees of Dating (not to be confused with Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, though I’m sure if I trace it back far enough I’ve probably dated him by association at some point).
1. 0 degrees (or 32 degrees if you are keeping it strictly Fahrenheit)--this is sort of a double duty degree—it could represent the freezing point of a relationship, where one or both of you decides to throw in the towel, hang it up, dump or be dumped, etc. It could also represent the lack of interest when one party is interested in the other but the feeling is not mutual. You decide. Either way, baby, it’s cold outside.
2. 65 degrees—I’m a fan of this degree for many reasons. I see it as the point to where you’re not really sure about the new person you’re dating and you’re trying to keep it a little cooler than usual before you haul off and get into the deep end. It could be that he/she has a reputation about town and you’re still doing your research, or it could be that they have a few things you need to inquire about before you decide to give it your all, like habits and what have you. 65 is the perfect temp to idle for a while and check out your situation, and it’s also a smart strategy so you don’t go from 0 to boiling too fast and end up blowing a gasket. You could also consider this the “time out” degree, as in, cool off, take a step back, and re-evaluate before you do or say something stupid.
3. 75 degrees—Most people are comfortable being outside when it is 75 degrees relative to the humidity, and this is the point in the relationship where you start to get comfortable with each other. You’re going out more, learning all the things you have in common, and meeting each other’s friends. You’ve decided that at 65 everything checked out so you want to turn up the heat a little. Just make sure you don’t stay at 75 forever in the beginning stages of a relationship, because that spells doom. You get too comfortable and you never raise your temperature, you’re going to be sitting around 5 years from now wondering why he/she hasn’t proposed. It’s like the 75% rule—you’re ¾ of the way there, but where’s the other 25%? Is it ever going to make a complete pie chart? Of course after your relationship is on solid, committed ground, 75 is pretty good. You don’t want to be too comfortable here either, so make sure you do something to bring it up to boiling every now and again, but you can spend a lot of time at 75 and be perfectly happy in the long run. You like 75% of what this person’s about, and the other 25% is tolerable.
4. 100 degrees (or 212 for you Fahrenheit-loving Red White and Blue Bleeding Americans)—This is the boiling point—the point where the stars have aligned, all is right with the world, the birds are singing, and the sun is shining. Your amour is perfect in every way, right down to the adorable way he/she drools all over your side of the pillow. You want to share the drool eternally! You want to be there to share every experience, tackle every obstacle, and smell every fart! Good for you! The only problem is, when you hit boiling, you can’t stay there forever. You can only boil for so long before you boil over or you run out of steam. So be careful. Cool it back down to 65 and take stock. It’s hard to do, but it’s going to save you some hassle and possibly keep you from spending the next third of your life going from 0 to boiling and back again. That’s hard on a radiator and it’s hard on a heart.
5. 180 degrees—Ah, the old 180. It’s a classic term used for a complete change in tack, as in “I thought we were getting along great, then he does a complete 180 and dumps me! As if!” Sometimes a 180 is a good thing, if someone’s really turned their life around, but a lot of times the 180 is used in a derogatory sense. I don’t have any words to explain how shitty a 180 can make you feel until you’ve lived it. Anybody is capable of it and you never know when it’s going to strike. But when it does, I bet I know the first words out of your mouth.
6. 360 degrees—I like to use this degree to describe two phenomena—When you are stuck in a vicious cycle of breaking up and making up, thus bringing you full circle in your relationship over and over and never getting out; and when you have come full circle and are ready to stop doing what you’re doing because you see what’s coming and it’s getting you nowhere fast. I like it better in the latter sense, but not everyone has the sense to pull a 360 that way. It’s unfortunate because it usually ends up leading to another 360 of the former sense and then they can’t see the forest for the trees.
Alright, that’s all I’ve got! Let me know what you think!
So I was laying on my couch drinking an entire bottle of pinot grigio and incoherently babbling to my cat in an attempt to figure out what went wrong in my last dating foray when I had an idea. No, it wasn’t that I shouldn’t have had the whole bottle of wine, or even that I shouldn’t be talking to a cat, but this idea of Degrees of Dating. It’s not degrees as in education, but more degrees in terms of measurement—temperature and distance. Just to make it fun, I’ve come up with my own Six Degrees of Dating (not to be confused with Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, though I’m sure if I trace it back far enough I’ve probably dated him by association at some point).
1. 0 degrees (or 32 degrees if you are keeping it strictly Fahrenheit)--this is sort of a double duty degree—it could represent the freezing point of a relationship, where one or both of you decides to throw in the towel, hang it up, dump or be dumped, etc. It could also represent the lack of interest when one party is interested in the other but the feeling is not mutual. You decide. Either way, baby, it’s cold outside.
2. 65 degrees—I’m a fan of this degree for many reasons. I see it as the point to where you’re not really sure about the new person you’re dating and you’re trying to keep it a little cooler than usual before you haul off and get into the deep end. It could be that he/she has a reputation about town and you’re still doing your research, or it could be that they have a few things you need to inquire about before you decide to give it your all, like habits and what have you. 65 is the perfect temp to idle for a while and check out your situation, and it’s also a smart strategy so you don’t go from 0 to boiling too fast and end up blowing a gasket. You could also consider this the “time out” degree, as in, cool off, take a step back, and re-evaluate before you do or say something stupid.
3. 75 degrees—Most people are comfortable being outside when it is 75 degrees relative to the humidity, and this is the point in the relationship where you start to get comfortable with each other. You’re going out more, learning all the things you have in common, and meeting each other’s friends. You’ve decided that at 65 everything checked out so you want to turn up the heat a little. Just make sure you don’t stay at 75 forever in the beginning stages of a relationship, because that spells doom. You get too comfortable and you never raise your temperature, you’re going to be sitting around 5 years from now wondering why he/she hasn’t proposed. It’s like the 75% rule—you’re ¾ of the way there, but where’s the other 25%? Is it ever going to make a complete pie chart? Of course after your relationship is on solid, committed ground, 75 is pretty good. You don’t want to be too comfortable here either, so make sure you do something to bring it up to boiling every now and again, but you can spend a lot of time at 75 and be perfectly happy in the long run. You like 75% of what this person’s about, and the other 25% is tolerable.
4. 100 degrees (or 212 for you Fahrenheit-loving Red White and Blue Bleeding Americans)—This is the boiling point—the point where the stars have aligned, all is right with the world, the birds are singing, and the sun is shining. Your amour is perfect in every way, right down to the adorable way he/she drools all over your side of the pillow. You want to share the drool eternally! You want to be there to share every experience, tackle every obstacle, and smell every fart! Good for you! The only problem is, when you hit boiling, you can’t stay there forever. You can only boil for so long before you boil over or you run out of steam. So be careful. Cool it back down to 65 and take stock. It’s hard to do, but it’s going to save you some hassle and possibly keep you from spending the next third of your life going from 0 to boiling and back again. That’s hard on a radiator and it’s hard on a heart.
5. 180 degrees—Ah, the old 180. It’s a classic term used for a complete change in tack, as in “I thought we were getting along great, then he does a complete 180 and dumps me! As if!” Sometimes a 180 is a good thing, if someone’s really turned their life around, but a lot of times the 180 is used in a derogatory sense. I don’t have any words to explain how shitty a 180 can make you feel until you’ve lived it. Anybody is capable of it and you never know when it’s going to strike. But when it does, I bet I know the first words out of your mouth.
6. 360 degrees—I like to use this degree to describe two phenomena—When you are stuck in a vicious cycle of breaking up and making up, thus bringing you full circle in your relationship over and over and never getting out; and when you have come full circle and are ready to stop doing what you’re doing because you see what’s coming and it’s getting you nowhere fast. I like it better in the latter sense, but not everyone has the sense to pull a 360 that way. It’s unfortunate because it usually ends up leading to another 360 of the former sense and then they can’t see the forest for the trees.
Alright, that’s all I’ve got! Let me know what you think!
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Wookin' Po Nub...
OK Y’all,
So I was in a movie kind of mood the other night, and I couldn’t find anything on the cable movie channels, so I turned to my DVD collection. I picked a classic—Urban Cowboy. For those of you not familiar with this lil’ gem, it’s about a fella named Bud who moves from a small town in Texas to a medium small town in Texas and meets a gal named Sissy at Gilley’s, the local watering hole. They get married, move into a trailer, get in a fight over mechanical bullriding, cheat, and get back together after foiling a robbery, all in the span of about 6 weeks. It’s a fun movie to watch if you are in the mood for some redneck intrigue, and it certainly makes you wonder whatever happened to Mickey Gilley. As I was watching it, I got to thinking about the kind of people Bud and Sissy were—simple, blue collar, poorly educated, and viscerally driven. They have no concept of what life is like outside of their tiny little hamlet; they essentially don’t know any better and don’t want to. And you know what? On a very basic level, their lives indicate that ignorance is bliss. If you don’t know that there’s anything better, if you believe what people say at face value and allow your thoughts and feelings to stay simple and naïve, you can be happy. And I think that’s where I’ve got a problem: I’m too smart for my own good, or at least I’ve learned the hard way too much for my own good. It makes me sad in a way, because I can’t ever take anyone at their word—especially when it comes to dating, and that’s exactly where trust matters the most. When I was younger and just starting out on my dating journey, I believed my boyfriend/date/whatever when he said he hadn’t called because he was out late with friends/stuck at work/whatever. He loved me—how could I not believe him, and how could he not be honest with me at all times? It seemed easy enough. I was always honest with him. When you’re in love, you’re always above board! Boy, did reality come crashing down around me and quick. Blindsided doesn’t even begin to cover it. And that was just the beginning of my difficult and painful education about the inner workings of the human heart. Since then, it seems like I’ve seen it or heard it all, and quite frankly, it’s made me a wary and suspicious person. It’s made me into someone who can’t take a compliment without wondering what the complimentor is hiding or trying to butter me up for. It’s caused me to suspect less than honorable intentions and subterfuge in even the most innocuous of missed connections. And unfortunately, it’s proven me to be right in a HUGE majority of cases. It's disappointing and more than a little upsetting that I am too self-aware to be happy. I would love to be that small town girl with wide eyed optimism who doesn’t know any better and has the myopic vision of a simple heart. It makes me wish I didn’t know now what I didn’t know then. But I do, and the force is strong with this one. I am working on how to deal with it--until then, I guess I can blog about it.
So I was in a movie kind of mood the other night, and I couldn’t find anything on the cable movie channels, so I turned to my DVD collection. I picked a classic—Urban Cowboy. For those of you not familiar with this lil’ gem, it’s about a fella named Bud who moves from a small town in Texas to a medium small town in Texas and meets a gal named Sissy at Gilley’s, the local watering hole. They get married, move into a trailer, get in a fight over mechanical bullriding, cheat, and get back together after foiling a robbery, all in the span of about 6 weeks. It’s a fun movie to watch if you are in the mood for some redneck intrigue, and it certainly makes you wonder whatever happened to Mickey Gilley. As I was watching it, I got to thinking about the kind of people Bud and Sissy were—simple, blue collar, poorly educated, and viscerally driven. They have no concept of what life is like outside of their tiny little hamlet; they essentially don’t know any better and don’t want to. And you know what? On a very basic level, their lives indicate that ignorance is bliss. If you don’t know that there’s anything better, if you believe what people say at face value and allow your thoughts and feelings to stay simple and naïve, you can be happy. And I think that’s where I’ve got a problem: I’m too smart for my own good, or at least I’ve learned the hard way too much for my own good. It makes me sad in a way, because I can’t ever take anyone at their word—especially when it comes to dating, and that’s exactly where trust matters the most. When I was younger and just starting out on my dating journey, I believed my boyfriend/date/whatever when he said he hadn’t called because he was out late with friends/stuck at work/whatever. He loved me—how could I not believe him, and how could he not be honest with me at all times? It seemed easy enough. I was always honest with him. When you’re in love, you’re always above board! Boy, did reality come crashing down around me and quick. Blindsided doesn’t even begin to cover it. And that was just the beginning of my difficult and painful education about the inner workings of the human heart. Since then, it seems like I’ve seen it or heard it all, and quite frankly, it’s made me a wary and suspicious person. It’s made me into someone who can’t take a compliment without wondering what the complimentor is hiding or trying to butter me up for. It’s caused me to suspect less than honorable intentions and subterfuge in even the most innocuous of missed connections. And unfortunately, it’s proven me to be right in a HUGE majority of cases. It's disappointing and more than a little upsetting that I am too self-aware to be happy. I would love to be that small town girl with wide eyed optimism who doesn’t know any better and has the myopic vision of a simple heart. It makes me wish I didn’t know now what I didn’t know then. But I do, and the force is strong with this one. I am working on how to deal with it--until then, I guess I can blog about it.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
You Gotta Start 'Em Early
OK Y’all,
So there’s this problem I used to have, and I thought I had conquered, or at least calmed it down enough not to drive myself crazy. But it seems that though I have tried, it still comes back to haunt me from time to time despite the fact that I am all too aware that it’s happening. It’s the problem of “expectations,” or more specifically, “high expectations,” aka “getting your hopes up.” I don’t know why I have them anymore, at least not for other people, because years and years and YEARS of experience have taught me that the minute you put even the most infinitesimal expectations on someone, they inevitably let you down. And it’s only getting worse out there, folks. Not only have expectations become the stuff of myth when dealing with dating partners, but it’s seeping into our collective consciousness too. How many times do you say to yourself on a daily basis, “man, does anybody even CARE anymore?” when dealing with the customer service industries? I know! Me, too.
I was pondering this latest bout of Am-I-Really-Crazy-Or-Do-People-Just-SUCK-itude when it occurred to me that my placement of expectations and the lessons learned by subsequent crushing of them happened quite early on in my life. Like kindergarten early. See, I used to be kind of a flirt at age 5. Seriously—I got in trouble more than once for kissing boys on the playground. So it was only natural that I would expect the boys to like me back. When they didn’t, it cut me, it cut me real deep. Two episodes stand out to me more than the others—picture it, Bristol, 1984. A cute-as-a-button Big E dressed in her tailor made finery (complete with tag reading “Made With Love By Mommy” sewn into the back) was out on the playground when she spies a kid named Andy. He’s got something in his chubby hand that he says is a present, and of course Big E thinks it’s for her. He walks toward her, coming closer, closer…and walks right past, to another girl named Amanda. He gives Amanda a ruby ring he had stolen from his mamaw’s jewelry box (hey, this is Bristol we’re talkin’ about here) and Amanda fawns over it with sickening glee. Big E stomps her tiny oxford clad feet and pouts the rest of the day. The next day on the school bus, Big E feels a tap on her shoulder. It’s Jimmy Yarber, her fellow kindergarten classmate. He says to her that he’s brought her something, and produces a gold metal ring with a red plastic jewel perched atop it. He says that he wanted Big E to have her own ruby ring so he got one for her from the chicken egg machine at the grocery store. He spent a whole quarter on it! Big E proudly dons the ring and walks into Mrs. Tauscher’s class feeling like the best girl in the world.
Cut to first grade—Big E is still not only the cutest girl in her class, but naturally the smartest. She gets her work done, always has examples ready to demonstrate for her “letter of the day” presentations, and knows how to bat her eyelashes for an extra Oreo at snack time. Since she’s a good girl, she always gets to go to recess, but not all of the children are as good as her. Especially not a little boy named Wes Combs. Wes is incorrigible and seems to have a hard time staying in his seat, thus causing him to miss recess frequently and have to sit in the classroom and write sentences. One lovely day, Big E comes in during recess to get a kickball or some sort of game equipment from the room. There sits Wes in all his badassery, writing sentences and generally making a mockery of his education. The teacher assigned to watch him has her head down, reading a book. So what does Wes do before Big E goes back outside? He says, “hey, look at this!” and proceeds to show Big E his tiny, 6 year old wiener. Yep, that’s right—indecent exposure. Big E squeals and runs from the room, still scarred by the experience 25 years later. To this day I don’t know his motivation, but I’m 99% positive he probably saw his dad or his older brother do it and thought it was a good idea.
So what lessons did I learn from these early life experiences?
Lesson #1—there are still nice guys out there.
Lesson #2—those guys usually have don’t stay in from recess because they were bad.
Really though, what it taught me is that I can’t expect every guy to like me, and if I do, that’s my fault. Some guys just aren’t that into you, or they have too many hang ups, or all they want to do is show you their dong. And the minute that you get your hopes up that he’ll call, or take you on another date, or generally act like someone you’d want to be seen with in public is the minute that you can throw all that out the window. People are people, and they screw up. If you have your sights set too high, all you’re going to do is drown when it rains. You have to have a healthy dose of realism when it comes to dating. Trying not to expect too much while still keeping your standards where you want them to be is a tough thing, but it’s not impossible. Trust me, I learned the hard way.
So there’s this problem I used to have, and I thought I had conquered, or at least calmed it down enough not to drive myself crazy. But it seems that though I have tried, it still comes back to haunt me from time to time despite the fact that I am all too aware that it’s happening. It’s the problem of “expectations,” or more specifically, “high expectations,” aka “getting your hopes up.” I don’t know why I have them anymore, at least not for other people, because years and years and YEARS of experience have taught me that the minute you put even the most infinitesimal expectations on someone, they inevitably let you down. And it’s only getting worse out there, folks. Not only have expectations become the stuff of myth when dealing with dating partners, but it’s seeping into our collective consciousness too. How many times do you say to yourself on a daily basis, “man, does anybody even CARE anymore?” when dealing with the customer service industries? I know! Me, too.
I was pondering this latest bout of Am-I-Really-Crazy-Or-Do-People-Just-SUCK-itude when it occurred to me that my placement of expectations and the lessons learned by subsequent crushing of them happened quite early on in my life. Like kindergarten early. See, I used to be kind of a flirt at age 5. Seriously—I got in trouble more than once for kissing boys on the playground. So it was only natural that I would expect the boys to like me back. When they didn’t, it cut me, it cut me real deep. Two episodes stand out to me more than the others—picture it, Bristol, 1984. A cute-as-a-button Big E dressed in her tailor made finery (complete with tag reading “Made With Love By Mommy” sewn into the back) was out on the playground when she spies a kid named Andy. He’s got something in his chubby hand that he says is a present, and of course Big E thinks it’s for her. He walks toward her, coming closer, closer…and walks right past, to another girl named Amanda. He gives Amanda a ruby ring he had stolen from his mamaw’s jewelry box (hey, this is Bristol we’re talkin’ about here) and Amanda fawns over it with sickening glee. Big E stomps her tiny oxford clad feet and pouts the rest of the day. The next day on the school bus, Big E feels a tap on her shoulder. It’s Jimmy Yarber, her fellow kindergarten classmate. He says to her that he’s brought her something, and produces a gold metal ring with a red plastic jewel perched atop it. He says that he wanted Big E to have her own ruby ring so he got one for her from the chicken egg machine at the grocery store. He spent a whole quarter on it! Big E proudly dons the ring and walks into Mrs. Tauscher’s class feeling like the best girl in the world.
Cut to first grade—Big E is still not only the cutest girl in her class, but naturally the smartest. She gets her work done, always has examples ready to demonstrate for her “letter of the day” presentations, and knows how to bat her eyelashes for an extra Oreo at snack time. Since she’s a good girl, she always gets to go to recess, but not all of the children are as good as her. Especially not a little boy named Wes Combs. Wes is incorrigible and seems to have a hard time staying in his seat, thus causing him to miss recess frequently and have to sit in the classroom and write sentences. One lovely day, Big E comes in during recess to get a kickball or some sort of game equipment from the room. There sits Wes in all his badassery, writing sentences and generally making a mockery of his education. The teacher assigned to watch him has her head down, reading a book. So what does Wes do before Big E goes back outside? He says, “hey, look at this!” and proceeds to show Big E his tiny, 6 year old wiener. Yep, that’s right—indecent exposure. Big E squeals and runs from the room, still scarred by the experience 25 years later. To this day I don’t know his motivation, but I’m 99% positive he probably saw his dad or his older brother do it and thought it was a good idea.
So what lessons did I learn from these early life experiences?
Lesson #1—there are still nice guys out there.
Lesson #2—those guys usually have don’t stay in from recess because they were bad.
Really though, what it taught me is that I can’t expect every guy to like me, and if I do, that’s my fault. Some guys just aren’t that into you, or they have too many hang ups, or all they want to do is show you their dong. And the minute that you get your hopes up that he’ll call, or take you on another date, or generally act like someone you’d want to be seen with in public is the minute that you can throw all that out the window. People are people, and they screw up. If you have your sights set too high, all you’re going to do is drown when it rains. You have to have a healthy dose of realism when it comes to dating. Trying not to expect too much while still keeping your standards where you want them to be is a tough thing, but it’s not impossible. Trust me, I learned the hard way.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Let Me Hear Your Body Talk
OK Ya’ll,
So I had a conversation recently with a friend of mine, we’ll call him “Skip” for now, who is staking out a lady. This lady is a patron of an establishment that Skip frequents (and by “frequents” I mean I think he secretly lives there) and he’s had his eye on this gal for several months (and by “eye on” I mean he tracks her every move like a hound dog in heat). I don’t blame him, she’s a cute girl, and God knows he needs to get himself a woman. Anyhooser, one night last week this covert operation of his came to a head and he actually had a brief, albeit enlightening, conversation with Mystery Girl. I was not present for said interaction, but he did text me to let me know that the jump had been made; I did what any other friend would do and insisted he call me after he left the bar to discuss in detail. I mean, I do write a blog about relationship issues and what have you, so who better to go over the minutiae of even the smallest of conversations with your intended amour? We broke it down like MC Hammer, analyzing the mannerisms, conversation, company kept, and body language. The funny thing about this whole scientific process, beside the fact that Skip and I are both firmly in the 30 and over category but we talked like two 16 year old girls after the school dance, was that he actually noticed things that I did not think men (well, straight men) were too aware of—specifically, the body language angle. Either he’s been stealing his friend’s Cosmo and reading “How To Subconsciously Trap A Dude” articles, or he’s smarter than I give him credit for. I’m voting for the Cosmo, but it still made me curious. As a woman, I read said Cosmo articles and other media regarding the entrapment of hapless gentlemen, and frankly I find it a little elementary; however, there are people who make their living off of reading body language, so I can’t completely discredit their research. These articles always say things like “don’t cross your arms and legs together—it makes you seem closed off” or “brush your neck with your hand and run your fingers down your arms to subtly show him your secret erogenous zones” or something like that. Personally, I don’t think that kind of body language is all that subtle, and I think it ruins the allure of an interaction if you’re constantly repositioning yourself like a GPS in hopes of drawing attention to the inside of your elbows or whatever. To me, body language is something that should be natural and reactive, and I don’t think it’s hard to tell if someone likes you or doesn’t like you without having to maneuver yourself too much.
But I digress, so back to the lecture at hand. Skip said that MG sat down next to him to have a chat and a smoke (insert anti-smoking propaganda here), and the conversation was good, but her body language was awkward. He said that she crossed her leg away from him, which is an indicator of uncertainty, but her upper body was fairly relaxed, which is a sign of comfort. So you can see his confusion—do you go off the convo alone, or is the body language that he’s unnaturally attuned to an indicator of her feigned interest to procure a cigarette? It gave me pause to go through and consider my own body language for a moment, specifically the leg crossing and it’s strength of schedule. In combination with the crossed arms or hands tucked under the legs, it could indicate a couple of things—disinterest, sure, but also perhaps that you should have brought a sweater because it’s a might bit nippy where you are. I cross my arms not so much to close myself off from someone, but because I’d rather them talk to my face and not my glaringly obvious nipples due to the chill in the room. Without the crossed arms, I’m banking that she just has a preference for one leg over the other when it comes to crossing them. The way you clasp your hands is hereditary—right thumb over left, or left over right—so perhaps you have an affinity for one leg crossed over the other for comfort’s sake. I tend to go left over right most of the time, because I’m a lefty all the way and my right side is only here for cosmetic purposes and balance. I asked another girlfriend of mine, and she said she crosses a particular way to make her legs look more comely and appealing. I even paid particular attention to my leg crossing when meeting a new gentleman for the first time, and I noticed that though my legs were crossed away from him, I liked him quite well. So, Skip, in my estimation, man cannot gauge interest from crossed legs alone. If it were me, I’d enjoy the conversation and hope that she runs her fingers down her arm later.
So I had a conversation recently with a friend of mine, we’ll call him “Skip” for now, who is staking out a lady. This lady is a patron of an establishment that Skip frequents (and by “frequents” I mean I think he secretly lives there) and he’s had his eye on this gal for several months (and by “eye on” I mean he tracks her every move like a hound dog in heat). I don’t blame him, she’s a cute girl, and God knows he needs to get himself a woman. Anyhooser, one night last week this covert operation of his came to a head and he actually had a brief, albeit enlightening, conversation with Mystery Girl. I was not present for said interaction, but he did text me to let me know that the jump had been made; I did what any other friend would do and insisted he call me after he left the bar to discuss in detail. I mean, I do write a blog about relationship issues and what have you, so who better to go over the minutiae of even the smallest of conversations with your intended amour? We broke it down like MC Hammer, analyzing the mannerisms, conversation, company kept, and body language. The funny thing about this whole scientific process, beside the fact that Skip and I are both firmly in the 30 and over category but we talked like two 16 year old girls after the school dance, was that he actually noticed things that I did not think men (well, straight men) were too aware of—specifically, the body language angle. Either he’s been stealing his friend’s Cosmo and reading “How To Subconsciously Trap A Dude” articles, or he’s smarter than I give him credit for. I’m voting for the Cosmo, but it still made me curious. As a woman, I read said Cosmo articles and other media regarding the entrapment of hapless gentlemen, and frankly I find it a little elementary; however, there are people who make their living off of reading body language, so I can’t completely discredit their research. These articles always say things like “don’t cross your arms and legs together—it makes you seem closed off” or “brush your neck with your hand and run your fingers down your arms to subtly show him your secret erogenous zones” or something like that. Personally, I don’t think that kind of body language is all that subtle, and I think it ruins the allure of an interaction if you’re constantly repositioning yourself like a GPS in hopes of drawing attention to the inside of your elbows or whatever. To me, body language is something that should be natural and reactive, and I don’t think it’s hard to tell if someone likes you or doesn’t like you without having to maneuver yourself too much.
But I digress, so back to the lecture at hand. Skip said that MG sat down next to him to have a chat and a smoke (insert anti-smoking propaganda here), and the conversation was good, but her body language was awkward. He said that she crossed her leg away from him, which is an indicator of uncertainty, but her upper body was fairly relaxed, which is a sign of comfort. So you can see his confusion—do you go off the convo alone, or is the body language that he’s unnaturally attuned to an indicator of her feigned interest to procure a cigarette? It gave me pause to go through and consider my own body language for a moment, specifically the leg crossing and it’s strength of schedule. In combination with the crossed arms or hands tucked under the legs, it could indicate a couple of things—disinterest, sure, but also perhaps that you should have brought a sweater because it’s a might bit nippy where you are. I cross my arms not so much to close myself off from someone, but because I’d rather them talk to my face and not my glaringly obvious nipples due to the chill in the room. Without the crossed arms, I’m banking that she just has a preference for one leg over the other when it comes to crossing them. The way you clasp your hands is hereditary—right thumb over left, or left over right—so perhaps you have an affinity for one leg crossed over the other for comfort’s sake. I tend to go left over right most of the time, because I’m a lefty all the way and my right side is only here for cosmetic purposes and balance. I asked another girlfriend of mine, and she said she crosses a particular way to make her legs look more comely and appealing. I even paid particular attention to my leg crossing when meeting a new gentleman for the first time, and I noticed that though my legs were crossed away from him, I liked him quite well. So, Skip, in my estimation, man cannot gauge interest from crossed legs alone. If it were me, I’d enjoy the conversation and hope that she runs her fingers down her arm later.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Highway To The Danger Zone
OK Ya’ll,
So I recently read an article on the msn celebrity gossip site about Jennifer Aniston getting put in the “friend zone” by a co-star she was allegedly dating. That got me thinking about a couple of things—A. how in the world a hottie like Jen Aniston gets put in the “friend zone” is waaaay beyond me, and B. how guys/girls who have plenty to offer get put in the “friend zone.” I came up with a few reasons why one may get relegated to the dreaded “we’re just friends” section of the dating buffet, so I thought I would share.
1.You’re not that cute. I know it sounds harsh, but come on. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—you can only date someone for their personality for so long before things take a big, fat nosedive into “let’s still be friends” territory if there’s no attraction. There has to be some sort of spark to create a connection. Not everybody’s spark plugs are gonna fire up on the first go round. Sometimes it takes a while for the personality to make the looks more of a minor than a major. But sometimes no matter how hard you try, you cannot get past the fact that you’re dating the physical equivalent of Kryptonite. And that’s when you’re just better off “being friends.” And that’s unfortunate, because you and I both know that 9 times out of 10, you don’t end up being friends. You end up being “this guy/girl I used to date.”
2.You’re already friends and dating is going to ruin it. It’s been said that men and women can’t be friends because one person always wants to sleep with the other. There’s a whole monologue delivered by Billy Crystal in “When Harry Met Sally” about that very thing that I highly recommend not only for comedic value, but also for the veracity of the claim. Big E has a few guy friends on the roster, dudes that she became friends with not through their girlfriend or through a dating situation, but guys who I met through my circle of friends or through work, school, etc. And sure, I think they’re attractive, and I may have, at first meeting, attempted to date one or two of them. I may have even done a little more than go on a date with them (*ahem*). I’ve lived to regret it a few times, because it was generally either a move made out of loneliness or curiosity. And when it didn’t work out, I was left more lonely because I had lost not only a free meal, but a friend as well. There are those times you can put someone in the “friends with benefits” category and live with it, as long as you can compartmentalize and not romanticize something that is purely platonic emotionally and down and dirty physically. Those times are rare, and usually end up hurting one party or the other if there are feelings that aren’t being addressed. To that end, I say go for it but know what you’re getting into. It can be crazy fun. As it stands now, the guys that are still in my group are friends and only friends because I like them. And I know that if we ever really and truly dated, we would end up not liking each other at all, either because he was a douche or because I drove him nuts. It’s easier for me to keep them in the “friend zone” and have the benefit of their company without the awkward past relationship in the way. It’s more fun to give somebody a hard time when you know they aren’t going to get all uppity about it.
3.They just aren’t your type. Let’s face it—you may really like someone, you may think they are funny, cute, smart, whatever—but if you don’t see eye to eye on your deal breakers as friends, you will never work out as lov-ahs. I’ve mentioned the “Big E Deal Breakers” in past posts, and though those things are personal ideologies I adhere to, I don’t expect everyone to be like me. But I also don’t date them. I know plenty of great guys who are funny, cute, smart, whatever that I will never date because I know it’s going to end in a giant, fiery disaster like a Die Hard movie. For me, it all depends on which way their moral compass points, and for some of them, it’s South when it oughta be North, know what I’m saying? And that’s ok, because I like them in spite of their tendencies, and they like me in spite of mine. We might even have a healthy debate about these tendencies from time to time. But the line in the sand remains, and it’s there for a reason. And no matter how hard I might want it to move, it just doesn’t. So I keep the friend label firmly affixed and continue my quest for the Guy Who Points North.
4.You aren’t their type. This might sound like repetition, but it’s not. I’ve had the whole problem of dating someone who was just dating me because he didn’t know any better. I know myself pretty well, and I like to think I get to know someone else pretty well before I bequeath “good friend” status upon them. And since I know what I’m like, I don’t want to have another person get themselves into something they shouldn’t. I’ve not always been so good at this, however. A time or two I’ve gone out with someone I knew I was not right for. And what happened? We became friends, started hanging out, started dating, and suddenly I found myself waking up next to someone that I knew was trying his best to make something out of nothing. It wasn’t that he wasn’t a great guy, or that he didn’t have lots of great qualities, but I knew what he needed in a girl wasn’t me. And I let it happen, thinking maybe I was wrong. Hoping maybe he was aware of it and had come to terms with it. But in the end, we both decided it just wasn’t working and it really wasn’t anybody’s fault. We should have just stayed friends. I’m a great friend for a lot of people, but a good girlfriend for very few.
That's it for this week! Give me your thoughts, rants, raves, and comments!
So I recently read an article on the msn celebrity gossip site about Jennifer Aniston getting put in the “friend zone” by a co-star she was allegedly dating. That got me thinking about a couple of things—A. how in the world a hottie like Jen Aniston gets put in the “friend zone” is waaaay beyond me, and B. how guys/girls who have plenty to offer get put in the “friend zone.” I came up with a few reasons why one may get relegated to the dreaded “we’re just friends” section of the dating buffet, so I thought I would share.
1.You’re not that cute. I know it sounds harsh, but come on. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—you can only date someone for their personality for so long before things take a big, fat nosedive into “let’s still be friends” territory if there’s no attraction. There has to be some sort of spark to create a connection. Not everybody’s spark plugs are gonna fire up on the first go round. Sometimes it takes a while for the personality to make the looks more of a minor than a major. But sometimes no matter how hard you try, you cannot get past the fact that you’re dating the physical equivalent of Kryptonite. And that’s when you’re just better off “being friends.” And that’s unfortunate, because you and I both know that 9 times out of 10, you don’t end up being friends. You end up being “this guy/girl I used to date.”
2.You’re already friends and dating is going to ruin it. It’s been said that men and women can’t be friends because one person always wants to sleep with the other. There’s a whole monologue delivered by Billy Crystal in “When Harry Met Sally” about that very thing that I highly recommend not only for comedic value, but also for the veracity of the claim. Big E has a few guy friends on the roster, dudes that she became friends with not through their girlfriend or through a dating situation, but guys who I met through my circle of friends or through work, school, etc. And sure, I think they’re attractive, and I may have, at first meeting, attempted to date one or two of them. I may have even done a little more than go on a date with them (*ahem*). I’ve lived to regret it a few times, because it was generally either a move made out of loneliness or curiosity. And when it didn’t work out, I was left more lonely because I had lost not only a free meal, but a friend as well. There are those times you can put someone in the “friends with benefits” category and live with it, as long as you can compartmentalize and not romanticize something that is purely platonic emotionally and down and dirty physically. Those times are rare, and usually end up hurting one party or the other if there are feelings that aren’t being addressed. To that end, I say go for it but know what you’re getting into. It can be crazy fun. As it stands now, the guys that are still in my group are friends and only friends because I like them. And I know that if we ever really and truly dated, we would end up not liking each other at all, either because he was a douche or because I drove him nuts. It’s easier for me to keep them in the “friend zone” and have the benefit of their company without the awkward past relationship in the way. It’s more fun to give somebody a hard time when you know they aren’t going to get all uppity about it.
3.They just aren’t your type. Let’s face it—you may really like someone, you may think they are funny, cute, smart, whatever—but if you don’t see eye to eye on your deal breakers as friends, you will never work out as lov-ahs. I’ve mentioned the “Big E Deal Breakers” in past posts, and though those things are personal ideologies I adhere to, I don’t expect everyone to be like me. But I also don’t date them. I know plenty of great guys who are funny, cute, smart, whatever that I will never date because I know it’s going to end in a giant, fiery disaster like a Die Hard movie. For me, it all depends on which way their moral compass points, and for some of them, it’s South when it oughta be North, know what I’m saying? And that’s ok, because I like them in spite of their tendencies, and they like me in spite of mine. We might even have a healthy debate about these tendencies from time to time. But the line in the sand remains, and it’s there for a reason. And no matter how hard I might want it to move, it just doesn’t. So I keep the friend label firmly affixed and continue my quest for the Guy Who Points North.
4.You aren’t their type. This might sound like repetition, but it’s not. I’ve had the whole problem of dating someone who was just dating me because he didn’t know any better. I know myself pretty well, and I like to think I get to know someone else pretty well before I bequeath “good friend” status upon them. And since I know what I’m like, I don’t want to have another person get themselves into something they shouldn’t. I’ve not always been so good at this, however. A time or two I’ve gone out with someone I knew I was not right for. And what happened? We became friends, started hanging out, started dating, and suddenly I found myself waking up next to someone that I knew was trying his best to make something out of nothing. It wasn’t that he wasn’t a great guy, or that he didn’t have lots of great qualities, but I knew what he needed in a girl wasn’t me. And I let it happen, thinking maybe I was wrong. Hoping maybe he was aware of it and had come to terms with it. But in the end, we both decided it just wasn’t working and it really wasn’t anybody’s fault. We should have just stayed friends. I’m a great friend for a lot of people, but a good girlfriend for very few.
That's it for this week! Give me your thoughts, rants, raves, and comments!
Sunday, June 7, 2009
I Pity Tha Fool
OK Ya'll,
So this week I thought I'd share with you my story of my Worst First Date Ever. I even wrote a song about it (to the tune of "The Beverly Hillbillies"):
Let me tell ya a lil' story
Bout a girl named E
Had her worst first date
With a guy named Jeremy
Halfway through he started acting like a clod
And poor ol' E had to pray this phrase to God
"Never again, what've I done"
And so on and so forth...feel free to send me your additional verses.
The story goes like this: Big E and her pal Raquel and Raquel's sister Auds were out at the local Honky Tonk on a Thursday night, having as much fun as we could with our boots on, and as luck would have it, one of Big E's favorite activities was afoot--karaoke! Now for those of you who don't know, I am somewhat of a phenomenon when it comes to singing a wide variety of karaoke favorites, and I've even had requests for my renditions of "Wanted Dead or Alive" and "Let 'Er Rip." So of course on this particular evening in question, Big E was lettin it rip on the stage, taking no prisoners and showing everyone who's boss (NOT Tony Danza!) with her stellar performance of "If I Could Turn Back Time." There were a few chaps about, none of whom were of any consequence to our lovely group because they were either old, unhygienic, or poorly educated in etiquette regarding how to compliment a lady. However, after a brief intermission in the top notch crooning session, a few lads moseyed on over to the area and one signed up for a song. In this particular establishment, it's not uncommon for the fellers to dazzle us with their rap skills with either a "Baby Got Back" or "Cowboy" throwdown, but this guy was different--he signed up to sing Vertical Horizon of all things. And he wasn't half bad. My girlfriends immediately took notice and decided I should chat up this bloke, and sure enough the chatting commenced soon enough. I found out his name was Jeremy, and he seemed a nice enough guy. I gave him my number and soon found out why he was still single.
Jeremy came to pick up Big E at her condo, which nowadays I highly discourage on a first date because you have no idea if this dude is a serial killer who might chop you up and stuff you in a mattress like drug money. But as this was quite a few years ago and Big E had not developed her Spidey-sense completely, it happened. Anyhoosle, Jeremy takes Big E out for dinner and then out to a local libationery hall. Dinner was fine, we had a nice chat and he still seemed to be on the up and up. I seem to remember he was adopted, which could explain a lot, but the libations apparently were the catalyst for his clod-like behavior. Again, I don't encourage the imbibification of too many beverages on the first date, if for nothing else but to remember how ridiculously bad it was so you'll never do that again. But, indulge I did. My date, however, indulged a bit more than I did, and halfway through the date proceeds to try and start kissing my face while he sways unsteadily like a hammock in a stiff breeze. I have a firm rule about "handsiness" and he broke it all to hell in one fell swoop. I did my best to position myself out of his reach, and suggested perhaps we go elsewhere. He wanted to take me over to his friend's apartment to what he called a "party." I thought, "great, a chance to meet new people and put some distance between us while socializing."
This alleged "party" turned out to be his friend, friend's brother, and some other random guy. I seriously thought I might have just walked into a potential gang rape. As uncomfortable as it was, Big E is nothing if not sociable, and so tried to engage the friend's brother in conversation. Unfortunately, my topic of choice was the crucifix hanging above the entryway. I asked if they were Catholic, just because one generally does not hang a crucifix above one's doorway unless one is either Catholic or Madonna, and FB replied in the affirmative and asked me what I was. Now, Big E is a confirmed Christian, but I do not like labels of religions like Baptist, Methodist, etc. because I feel "religion" is a bunch of man's rules for God, when it ought to be the other way around. So I tell FB that I'm a non-denominational Christian. I went to a non-denominational church before my family moved to where we are now, and although I go to a Baptist church, I do not think of myself as such.
The proverbial shit proceeded to hit the proverbial fan right about then, because FB then says to me, "sooooo you're confused is what your telling me." To say that I was immediately infuriated is the understatement of the century. There's a couple things you don't mess with when it comes to Big E, and Christianity is one of them. Family and my makeup are the others, but that's another story. I did the Ghetto Fabulous neck whip with one eyebrow raised and said, "Excuse me? I most certainly did NOT say I was confused, nor did I IMPLY that I was confused. I think YOURE the one who's confused here, Bubba." And so ensued the requisite argument over the meaning of Christianity while holding a beer in one hand and making a fist with the other. I spouted off Bible verses I hadn't remembered since 3rd grade Sunday School (thanks, Mrs. Dot and Mrs. Boots!) and unleashed fiery vengeance upon FB's head. He finally tired of my intellectual and moral diatribe and let it rest. Wise of him, I'll say. Jeremy, however, was not so wise, because not once did he offer to defend or defuse. I understand that the Big E can be a force to be reckoned with when provoked, but as a first date etiquette, the proper thing to do would be to ask FB to can it before he ruined it all for future outings. Too bad Jeremy didn't get that memo.
I asked Jeremy to squire me home shortly after, but not before I spilled an entire mixed drink all over the couch. Suck it, Friend's Brother!
The trip home was made up of Jeremy apologizing for his doltish acquantaince and me ranting further about THE NERVE OF THAT GUY! and what have you. I was very quickly tiring of Jeremy's company, not only because of his handsiness at the bar, but because of his lack of chivalry with ol' Age of Enlightenment at the erstwhile "party." And just when I thought I was about to escape the torture...
Jeremy insists on walking me to the door. It's 5 feet away, but somehow seems to be The Green Mile. I forced myself to hug him and thanked him for the evening, and he got back in his car. And I heard a clicking noise coming from under the hood...then nothing. His battery was dead. Aaaaand it was the middle of winter, aaaand he had no cell phone, aaaand I have no jumper cables. I let him in to call a tow truck, and while he waited, he got the bright idea that it would be perfectly acceptable to foist himself upon me and try to kiss me. And before I knew it, I was literally pinned to the couch with this cretan probing my mouth with his horrible tongue. It was disgusting--cold, wormy, and utterly reprehensible on all counts. I rebuffed him and used every bit of strength I had to push him as far away as I could, and informed him that he would be most welcome to wait in his car for the tow truck as I was D-U-N done with him. I didn't give a shit if it was 12 degrees outside, and I didn't give a shit if he had to wait 6 hours for a truck to arrive, all I wanted was him out of my house and out of my life. And to go use some mouthwash. I promptly locked the door and went upstairs to bed and only bothered to make sure he was gone when I woke up the next morning. And after I breathed a sigh of relief to see an empty parking spot, I told myself: Never again will I allow some inappropriately amorous troglodyte with morally argumentative friends take me out on a date involving unhealthy amounts of alcohol. And, friends, I would advise you to learn from my lesson and do the same.
Well, that's all I've got for you this week. Send me your rants, raves, comments, and questions!
So this week I thought I'd share with you my story of my Worst First Date Ever. I even wrote a song about it (to the tune of "The Beverly Hillbillies"):
Let me tell ya a lil' story
Bout a girl named E
Had her worst first date
With a guy named Jeremy
Halfway through he started acting like a clod
And poor ol' E had to pray this phrase to God
"Never again, what've I done"
And so on and so forth...feel free to send me your additional verses.
The story goes like this: Big E and her pal Raquel and Raquel's sister Auds were out at the local Honky Tonk on a Thursday night, having as much fun as we could with our boots on, and as luck would have it, one of Big E's favorite activities was afoot--karaoke! Now for those of you who don't know, I am somewhat of a phenomenon when it comes to singing a wide variety of karaoke favorites, and I've even had requests for my renditions of "Wanted Dead or Alive" and "Let 'Er Rip." So of course on this particular evening in question, Big E was lettin it rip on the stage, taking no prisoners and showing everyone who's boss (NOT Tony Danza!) with her stellar performance of "If I Could Turn Back Time." There were a few chaps about, none of whom were of any consequence to our lovely group because they were either old, unhygienic, or poorly educated in etiquette regarding how to compliment a lady. However, after a brief intermission in the top notch crooning session, a few lads moseyed on over to the area and one signed up for a song. In this particular establishment, it's not uncommon for the fellers to dazzle us with their rap skills with either a "Baby Got Back" or "Cowboy" throwdown, but this guy was different--he signed up to sing Vertical Horizon of all things. And he wasn't half bad. My girlfriends immediately took notice and decided I should chat up this bloke, and sure enough the chatting commenced soon enough. I found out his name was Jeremy, and he seemed a nice enough guy. I gave him my number and soon found out why he was still single.
Jeremy came to pick up Big E at her condo, which nowadays I highly discourage on a first date because you have no idea if this dude is a serial killer who might chop you up and stuff you in a mattress like drug money. But as this was quite a few years ago and Big E had not developed her Spidey-sense completely, it happened. Anyhoosle, Jeremy takes Big E out for dinner and then out to a local libationery hall. Dinner was fine, we had a nice chat and he still seemed to be on the up and up. I seem to remember he was adopted, which could explain a lot, but the libations apparently were the catalyst for his clod-like behavior. Again, I don't encourage the imbibification of too many beverages on the first date, if for nothing else but to remember how ridiculously bad it was so you'll never do that again. But, indulge I did. My date, however, indulged a bit more than I did, and halfway through the date proceeds to try and start kissing my face while he sways unsteadily like a hammock in a stiff breeze. I have a firm rule about "handsiness" and he broke it all to hell in one fell swoop. I did my best to position myself out of his reach, and suggested perhaps we go elsewhere. He wanted to take me over to his friend's apartment to what he called a "party." I thought, "great, a chance to meet new people and put some distance between us while socializing."
This alleged "party" turned out to be his friend, friend's brother, and some other random guy. I seriously thought I might have just walked into a potential gang rape. As uncomfortable as it was, Big E is nothing if not sociable, and so tried to engage the friend's brother in conversation. Unfortunately, my topic of choice was the crucifix hanging above the entryway. I asked if they were Catholic, just because one generally does not hang a crucifix above one's doorway unless one is either Catholic or Madonna, and FB replied in the affirmative and asked me what I was. Now, Big E is a confirmed Christian, but I do not like labels of religions like Baptist, Methodist, etc. because I feel "religion" is a bunch of man's rules for God, when it ought to be the other way around. So I tell FB that I'm a non-denominational Christian. I went to a non-denominational church before my family moved to where we are now, and although I go to a Baptist church, I do not think of myself as such.
The proverbial shit proceeded to hit the proverbial fan right about then, because FB then says to me, "sooooo you're confused is what your telling me." To say that I was immediately infuriated is the understatement of the century. There's a couple things you don't mess with when it comes to Big E, and Christianity is one of them. Family and my makeup are the others, but that's another story. I did the Ghetto Fabulous neck whip with one eyebrow raised and said, "Excuse me? I most certainly did NOT say I was confused, nor did I IMPLY that I was confused. I think YOURE the one who's confused here, Bubba." And so ensued the requisite argument over the meaning of Christianity while holding a beer in one hand and making a fist with the other. I spouted off Bible verses I hadn't remembered since 3rd grade Sunday School (thanks, Mrs. Dot and Mrs. Boots!) and unleashed fiery vengeance upon FB's head. He finally tired of my intellectual and moral diatribe and let it rest. Wise of him, I'll say. Jeremy, however, was not so wise, because not once did he offer to defend or defuse. I understand that the Big E can be a force to be reckoned with when provoked, but as a first date etiquette, the proper thing to do would be to ask FB to can it before he ruined it all for future outings. Too bad Jeremy didn't get that memo.
I asked Jeremy to squire me home shortly after, but not before I spilled an entire mixed drink all over the couch. Suck it, Friend's Brother!
The trip home was made up of Jeremy apologizing for his doltish acquantaince and me ranting further about THE NERVE OF THAT GUY! and what have you. I was very quickly tiring of Jeremy's company, not only because of his handsiness at the bar, but because of his lack of chivalry with ol' Age of Enlightenment at the erstwhile "party." And just when I thought I was about to escape the torture...
Jeremy insists on walking me to the door. It's 5 feet away, but somehow seems to be The Green Mile. I forced myself to hug him and thanked him for the evening, and he got back in his car. And I heard a clicking noise coming from under the hood...then nothing. His battery was dead. Aaaaand it was the middle of winter, aaaand he had no cell phone, aaaand I have no jumper cables. I let him in to call a tow truck, and while he waited, he got the bright idea that it would be perfectly acceptable to foist himself upon me and try to kiss me. And before I knew it, I was literally pinned to the couch with this cretan probing my mouth with his horrible tongue. It was disgusting--cold, wormy, and utterly reprehensible on all counts. I rebuffed him and used every bit of strength I had to push him as far away as I could, and informed him that he would be most welcome to wait in his car for the tow truck as I was D-U-N done with him. I didn't give a shit if it was 12 degrees outside, and I didn't give a shit if he had to wait 6 hours for a truck to arrive, all I wanted was him out of my house and out of my life. And to go use some mouthwash. I promptly locked the door and went upstairs to bed and only bothered to make sure he was gone when I woke up the next morning. And after I breathed a sigh of relief to see an empty parking spot, I told myself: Never again will I allow some inappropriately amorous troglodyte with morally argumentative friends take me out on a date involving unhealthy amounts of alcohol. And, friends, I would advise you to learn from my lesson and do the same.
Well, that's all I've got for you this week. Send me your rants, raves, comments, and questions!
Monday, May 25, 2009
That's A Dealbreaker, Ladies!
OK Ya'll,
So I entitled this latest post with a tagline from one of my favorite shows, 30 Rock. In the show, Tina Fey is a writer for a sketch comedy show and one of the sketches that has become most popular is one in which Jane Krakowski plays a "relationship expert/talk show host." She advises her guests about matters of the heart and when she recognizes a peccadillo that could be considered a fatal flaw, she bellows "That's a dealbreaker, ladies!" in a grating New Yawk accent. Now, I'm not from the NYC, although I do have a lovely accent I can put on, but I do know a thing or two about deals and how they become irretrievably broken. So in the spirit of the Millionaire Matchmaker meets Tyra Banks, allow me to indulge my ego and share with you a few of the things I feel are dealbreakers all around and those that can be overlooked or tolerated with time. Or as I like to call it, The Great Compromise. Or the 80/20 Rule if you're a Dr. Phil follower. That is to say, 80% of the stuff your significant other does is fine, the other 20% you can get over or deal with or isn't going to end up causing you to scream at the top of your lungs "for the love of GAWD, STOP IT!" I've seen plenty of relationships, some of my own and some of other people's, go down like the Hindenburg because they didn't think it through. So here's my advice. Take it or leave it, but don't say I didn't warn you.
1. Don't get your wagon hitched to someone not on your spiritual level. Now I'm not talking about both of you clearing your aura or having good karma, unless that's your thing, but I'm talking more about religious views (or lack thereof). I happen to be a Christian girl with some pretty strong convictions about certain things, and while I don't expect everyone to agree with me on everything, I do expect the person I share the rest of my life with to have the same basic values and beliefs. I don't care so much that you're a Baptist or a Methodist or Catholic, but we have to see eye to eye on what's happening after we shuffle off this mortal coil and how it is we come to that post life party. This is a tricky thing sometimes, because you don't always know what your potential mate is into until a little further in the game. And sometimes it's tough to extricate yourself from that situation. I spent a good 2.5 years with someone that I knew in the first 6 months wasn't on my plane, but I fought it with every ounce of my being. I wanted him to be different. I wanted to be a positive influence. All I got was somebody who consistently mocked my faith and made me feel like an idiot. I'm telling you now, it doesn't matter how hot he or she is, if you're "unequally yoked" (to put it Biblically), you're going to have problems. Especially if you want to have kids. Because everybody knows that Brooke Shields and Tom Cruise do not a happy couple make. And nobody wants to be glib about post-partum depression.
2. You think he/she will change. Sure, you can vote for it all you want, but let me let you in on a little secret--people don't change. They may change behaviors temporarily, but they don't change who they are at their core. Sometimes the things you think will change are serious issues, sometimes they're little idiosyncrasies you wish would go away. But they won't. Thousands of people go through a lot of shit in their lives and they either rise above it or they sink down in it. But it's not your choice, it's theirs. And marriage/"a good talk"/promising to do better is not going to make it any different. Those 12 step programs have a little saying--you are always in "recovery." You're never a "used to be an alcoholic." You are always a "recovering alcoholic." Because once you think you have it licked, that's when the beast rears it's ugly head and strikes back ten times more forcefully. Same concept for anything you consider to be a problem-- if you see something that's a red flag now, get it taken care of now and get out. Don't wait until you're sitting around alone and lonely wondering what in the hell happened. I know that sounds a little serious or overbearing, but I'm telling you, even a tiny string can unravel an entire cocktail dress if you pick at it long enough. And nobody wants to end up being the one wearing the Emperor's New Clothes.
3. If you don't trust them, don't date (or marry) them. I don't know how many stories I have heard from people (women mostly) who should be in a Peanuts strip because they are so Snoopy. They hack into emails, social networking accounts, wallets, cell phones, etc etc and then get all upset when they find something they didn't want to see. Well guess what honey? If he had nothing to hide, you wouldn't be looking in the first place, so what are you doing with him? Think about it! Why are you digging around in his personal effects? To find a missing lotto ticket or some gum? NO! You don't trust him. Either he's done something to make you mistrust him, or you're paranoid. Who wants to go through life like that? So quit snooping and move on. Or get some professional assistance for your trust issues. Because you will never rest at night feeling like there's something he's hiding.
4. Naggers and Clingers never win. This is where you have to decide if the 20% of stuff that irks you is worth dealing with 95% of the time. So he doesn't take the garbage out like you asked him, or she doesn't put the dishes in the dishwasher. You know this. It's not news to you. But what do you do? You get in a fight once a week about the effen garbage. That's not what the real issue is, and you know it. So either figure out what your problem is and really address it, or put the dishes in the dishwasher yourself. Nagging is not going to get you anywhere except out on the street on your lovely hiney. Right next to the garbage.
Clinginess can also be a real drag to deal with, and a lot of times it has to do with rule #3. I don't know how many people smother their boyfriend/girlfriend because they don't trust them. If you are constantly suctioned to the side of your inamorata like our old seafaring friend the remora, then you're going to earn the resentment of your significant other if they value their independence even one little iota. Guys like to go out and have drinks with the boys; girls like to get together and drink cosmos and have Pure Romance parties. Let 'em go. I promise they'll come home if they really like you. Just don't go snooping through their stuff when they do.
There's another form of clinginess I'd like to address briefly as well; I call it the "Body Bubble Boundary." If you're anything like me, you're a pretty cuddly person when in private. I enjoy piling up on or crawling under the Snuggie with my significant other while lounging on the couch, and I have been prone to episodes of smoochiness on occasion. But when in public, please, for your own dignity and the digestive health of those around you, keep it clean and keep it in your pants. Holding hands, an arm around the shoulder or waist, fine. Maybe even a light peck on the cheek. The hands in the back pockets, spit bathing one another, and generally icky schmoopiness that's best reserved for a grossly overweight gal and her uber-skinny, bemulleted amour at the fair, NO. Save it for the trailer park folks. You don't want to earn the reputation as one of the worst races in all of intergalactic history: The Clingon.
Alright, that's it for this week folks. Send me your rants, raves, comments, and questions. Happy Dating!
So I entitled this latest post with a tagline from one of my favorite shows, 30 Rock. In the show, Tina Fey is a writer for a sketch comedy show and one of the sketches that has become most popular is one in which Jane Krakowski plays a "relationship expert/talk show host." She advises her guests about matters of the heart and when she recognizes a peccadillo that could be considered a fatal flaw, she bellows "That's a dealbreaker, ladies!" in a grating New Yawk accent. Now, I'm not from the NYC, although I do have a lovely accent I can put on, but I do know a thing or two about deals and how they become irretrievably broken. So in the spirit of the Millionaire Matchmaker meets Tyra Banks, allow me to indulge my ego and share with you a few of the things I feel are dealbreakers all around and those that can be overlooked or tolerated with time. Or as I like to call it, The Great Compromise. Or the 80/20 Rule if you're a Dr. Phil follower. That is to say, 80% of the stuff your significant other does is fine, the other 20% you can get over or deal with or isn't going to end up causing you to scream at the top of your lungs "for the love of GAWD, STOP IT!" I've seen plenty of relationships, some of my own and some of other people's, go down like the Hindenburg because they didn't think it through. So here's my advice. Take it or leave it, but don't say I didn't warn you.
1. Don't get your wagon hitched to someone not on your spiritual level. Now I'm not talking about both of you clearing your aura or having good karma, unless that's your thing, but I'm talking more about religious views (or lack thereof). I happen to be a Christian girl with some pretty strong convictions about certain things, and while I don't expect everyone to agree with me on everything, I do expect the person I share the rest of my life with to have the same basic values and beliefs. I don't care so much that you're a Baptist or a Methodist or Catholic, but we have to see eye to eye on what's happening after we shuffle off this mortal coil and how it is we come to that post life party. This is a tricky thing sometimes, because you don't always know what your potential mate is into until a little further in the game. And sometimes it's tough to extricate yourself from that situation. I spent a good 2.5 years with someone that I knew in the first 6 months wasn't on my plane, but I fought it with every ounce of my being. I wanted him to be different. I wanted to be a positive influence. All I got was somebody who consistently mocked my faith and made me feel like an idiot. I'm telling you now, it doesn't matter how hot he or she is, if you're "unequally yoked" (to put it Biblically), you're going to have problems. Especially if you want to have kids. Because everybody knows that Brooke Shields and Tom Cruise do not a happy couple make. And nobody wants to be glib about post-partum depression.
2. You think he/she will change. Sure, you can vote for it all you want, but let me let you in on a little secret--people don't change. They may change behaviors temporarily, but they don't change who they are at their core. Sometimes the things you think will change are serious issues, sometimes they're little idiosyncrasies you wish would go away. But they won't. Thousands of people go through a lot of shit in their lives and they either rise above it or they sink down in it. But it's not your choice, it's theirs. And marriage/"a good talk"/promising to do better is not going to make it any different. Those 12 step programs have a little saying--you are always in "recovery." You're never a "used to be an alcoholic." You are always a "recovering alcoholic." Because once you think you have it licked, that's when the beast rears it's ugly head and strikes back ten times more forcefully. Same concept for anything you consider to be a problem-- if you see something that's a red flag now, get it taken care of now and get out. Don't wait until you're sitting around alone and lonely wondering what in the hell happened. I know that sounds a little serious or overbearing, but I'm telling you, even a tiny string can unravel an entire cocktail dress if you pick at it long enough. And nobody wants to end up being the one wearing the Emperor's New Clothes.
3. If you don't trust them, don't date (or marry) them. I don't know how many stories I have heard from people (women mostly) who should be in a Peanuts strip because they are so Snoopy. They hack into emails, social networking accounts, wallets, cell phones, etc etc and then get all upset when they find something they didn't want to see. Well guess what honey? If he had nothing to hide, you wouldn't be looking in the first place, so what are you doing with him? Think about it! Why are you digging around in his personal effects? To find a missing lotto ticket or some gum? NO! You don't trust him. Either he's done something to make you mistrust him, or you're paranoid. Who wants to go through life like that? So quit snooping and move on. Or get some professional assistance for your trust issues. Because you will never rest at night feeling like there's something he's hiding.
4. Naggers and Clingers never win. This is where you have to decide if the 20% of stuff that irks you is worth dealing with 95% of the time. So he doesn't take the garbage out like you asked him, or she doesn't put the dishes in the dishwasher. You know this. It's not news to you. But what do you do? You get in a fight once a week about the effen garbage. That's not what the real issue is, and you know it. So either figure out what your problem is and really address it, or put the dishes in the dishwasher yourself. Nagging is not going to get you anywhere except out on the street on your lovely hiney. Right next to the garbage.
Clinginess can also be a real drag to deal with, and a lot of times it has to do with rule #3. I don't know how many people smother their boyfriend/girlfriend because they don't trust them. If you are constantly suctioned to the side of your inamorata like our old seafaring friend the remora, then you're going to earn the resentment of your significant other if they value their independence even one little iota. Guys like to go out and have drinks with the boys; girls like to get together and drink cosmos and have Pure Romance parties. Let 'em go. I promise they'll come home if they really like you. Just don't go snooping through their stuff when they do.
There's another form of clinginess I'd like to address briefly as well; I call it the "Body Bubble Boundary." If you're anything like me, you're a pretty cuddly person when in private. I enjoy piling up on or crawling under the Snuggie with my significant other while lounging on the couch, and I have been prone to episodes of smoochiness on occasion. But when in public, please, for your own dignity and the digestive health of those around you, keep it clean and keep it in your pants. Holding hands, an arm around the shoulder or waist, fine. Maybe even a light peck on the cheek. The hands in the back pockets, spit bathing one another, and generally icky schmoopiness that's best reserved for a grossly overweight gal and her uber-skinny, bemulleted amour at the fair, NO. Save it for the trailer park folks. You don't want to earn the reputation as one of the worst races in all of intergalactic history: The Clingon.
Alright, that's it for this week folks. Send me your rants, raves, comments, and questions. Happy Dating!
Saturday, May 9, 2009
It's Hard Out Here For A Pimp
OK Ya’ll,
So this week I’m going to let you in on a few dating tactics The Big E employs when choosing a suitor. Some of it is just personal preference, some of it is just for practicality’s sake. But I find it makes the dating process, painful as it can be at times, a little more bearable. And I think it’s good advice to boot.
1. Know your limits. Now, I am all for giving it the old Casey Kasem try by attempting to “keep your feet on the ground and keep reaching for the stars” as it were, but sometimes you gotta realize that the stars may be out of reach and you’ve got to be happy hanging out in the troposphere. And by that I mean you have to be realistic about what you look like and what your date looks like, and try to stay within the acceptable range of what you can attract. I know, I know, personality counts for a lot, and looks are subjective. And what’s attractive to one person is different than another person. I understand all that, and I’m not saying exceptions don’t occur. But let’s face it: if you don’t see some kind of cute in there initially, it’s going to be a tough row to hoe. It can be a spark, a hint, a variation of hotness, but it has to be there. I have plenty of guy friends who fall into different categories of hotness—one is baby-faced hot, one is quirky hot, one is tall, bald, and hot, etc etc.—but the fact remains that I, and ostensibly other girls, see that brand of hotness. If they are not the least bit cute, then you might think it’s cool to date them for a little while because of the personality, but that will wear thin quickly. Trust me; I’ve been in this situation a few times. I thought to myself, well, he really really likes me, and thinks I’m pretty, and even though I am not attracted to him in the least physically, perhaps his personality can win me over and make up for it. And initially, things were ok. But I either got a wandering eye after a while or I never stopped letting my eye wander, and I knew it wasn’t going to work. The personality did not make up enough for the lack of physical attraction. I mean, I’m no Christie Brinkley, but I’m no Billy Joel either. I am what guys label as “cute” and “funny”, and though I don’t know how far that will get me on any given evening at the bar, I do know my limits. And though I lust after the impossibly hot guys with the chiseled abs a la Paul Walker, I know for a fact that my looks alone would not be enough to bring him over to my table and offer me a drink. So I set my sights a little lower on the hot scale but a little higher on the intelligence scale. I’m cute enough to land somebody in the same category of cuteness or possibly slightly higher, but I never, ever want to settle for anything lower or a “talk myself into it” situation. And you shouldn’t either. Yes, I have dated guys I thought were way too hot to be with me, and yes, I have dated the Billy Joels. I’m happiest when I’m on an even playing field. And I think you will be too. Because the last thing you want people to think, in the immortal words of my mother, is “it MUST be all in her/his pants.”
2. Abide by the rule of two. In a beginning-to-date situation, like a few weeks in or a couple, three dates in, I try to always stick to the “rule of two”—as in, don’t call/text/email more than twice without a return call/text/email. Accidents happen, so the first call/text/email could have not gone through or been deleted or what have you. Sending the second one should give the hint. A third one just makes you look desperate or needy at best, stalkeresque at worst. I actually had this situation happen to me very recently. I was in communiqué with a lad via email that I had met on the dating site, and we had discussed quite a bit in written form, so I figured things were going well. As luck would have it, he ended up having jury duty on a Thursday. He emailed me during break that day, and I emailed him back, offering my phone number if he chose to communicate that way since jury duty is a little restrictive on email privileges. I didn’t hear from him all weekend. So I sent one more email on Monday, just a single sentence “more jury duty today?” email, to test the waters. No reply. So there’s where I left it. He knows where to find me. I gave him two means of communication. If he can’t employ one or the other or both, that’s not my problem. He either changed his mind or died. Either way, I’ve got to find someone new to buy my drinks, so I better get crackin’!
3. Define your boundaries. You need to know what you are and aren’t comfortable with on the first few dates and what your time frame is for certain activities. I personally have set myself a new rule to try not to kiss on the first date, or to not let it get too Hustler too fast at least. I think if the person is worth seeing again, they’ll get over the fact that you didn’t spit-bath them right away. A nice, lips only kiss sends a good message, one that shows you’re a respectable person who’s interested but not trying to push things too far. But if you’re not feeling your date, or you know things are not going in the right direction, don’t pressure yourself or let them pressure you into thinking you have to kiss them. A nice handshake or a hug gets the point across. You’ll save your dignity, and you’ll be glad you don’t have to worry about getting mono. The same principle applies to subsequent situations in dating. You have to decide before it’s too late how far you’re going to go, when. Nothing’s worse than waking up the next morning and thinking, “GAWD! Why did I do that? I didn’t want to do that yet!!” and then feeling awkward. Plus, suspense and anticipation is a powerful dating tool. If you stick to your guns, it’s not only a show of character, but it can act as an aphrodisiac. Let them work for it, ya’ll. Because once you do it, to borrow a phrase from Juno, “it’s one diddle that can’t be undone.”
4. You are your own best editor. I am the kind of person who has “flaws” that are sometimes embarrassing in public. My volume dial goes up to 11, and I tend to drop the F-Bomb like I’m the Enola Gay flying over Hiroshima. But I know this about myself, and therefore have the ability to kick it down a notch when necessary, namely when I’m trying to impress a date. Now I’m not saying you have to be someone you’re not, because that kind of behavior only comes back to bite you in the end, but a little bit of editing on the “areas of improvement” you may have is never a bad thing until you’ve gotten a feel for how your date will react. The last thing you want to do is tell an off-color joke about the very socioeconomic group his/her grandparents belong to, or have him/her employ the back-up plans early because you are a social menace. Everyone wants to be the best-smelling, best-looking, most intelligent version of themselves they can possibly be. And it doesn’t hurt to give someone glimpses of what a fun, exciting, lively date you are. But take your mother’s advice and be on your best behavior until the comfort level gets a little higher. You’ll be glad you did, and you’ll probably get another date out of it.
So that’s it! Let me know what you think, comments, suggestions, rants and raves.
So this week I’m going to let you in on a few dating tactics The Big E employs when choosing a suitor. Some of it is just personal preference, some of it is just for practicality’s sake. But I find it makes the dating process, painful as it can be at times, a little more bearable. And I think it’s good advice to boot.
1. Know your limits. Now, I am all for giving it the old Casey Kasem try by attempting to “keep your feet on the ground and keep reaching for the stars” as it were, but sometimes you gotta realize that the stars may be out of reach and you’ve got to be happy hanging out in the troposphere. And by that I mean you have to be realistic about what you look like and what your date looks like, and try to stay within the acceptable range of what you can attract. I know, I know, personality counts for a lot, and looks are subjective. And what’s attractive to one person is different than another person. I understand all that, and I’m not saying exceptions don’t occur. But let’s face it: if you don’t see some kind of cute in there initially, it’s going to be a tough row to hoe. It can be a spark, a hint, a variation of hotness, but it has to be there. I have plenty of guy friends who fall into different categories of hotness—one is baby-faced hot, one is quirky hot, one is tall, bald, and hot, etc etc.—but the fact remains that I, and ostensibly other girls, see that brand of hotness. If they are not the least bit cute, then you might think it’s cool to date them for a little while because of the personality, but that will wear thin quickly. Trust me; I’ve been in this situation a few times. I thought to myself, well, he really really likes me, and thinks I’m pretty, and even though I am not attracted to him in the least physically, perhaps his personality can win me over and make up for it. And initially, things were ok. But I either got a wandering eye after a while or I never stopped letting my eye wander, and I knew it wasn’t going to work. The personality did not make up enough for the lack of physical attraction. I mean, I’m no Christie Brinkley, but I’m no Billy Joel either. I am what guys label as “cute” and “funny”, and though I don’t know how far that will get me on any given evening at the bar, I do know my limits. And though I lust after the impossibly hot guys with the chiseled abs a la Paul Walker, I know for a fact that my looks alone would not be enough to bring him over to my table and offer me a drink. So I set my sights a little lower on the hot scale but a little higher on the intelligence scale. I’m cute enough to land somebody in the same category of cuteness or possibly slightly higher, but I never, ever want to settle for anything lower or a “talk myself into it” situation. And you shouldn’t either. Yes, I have dated guys I thought were way too hot to be with me, and yes, I have dated the Billy Joels. I’m happiest when I’m on an even playing field. And I think you will be too. Because the last thing you want people to think, in the immortal words of my mother, is “it MUST be all in her/his pants.”
2. Abide by the rule of two. In a beginning-to-date situation, like a few weeks in or a couple, three dates in, I try to always stick to the “rule of two”—as in, don’t call/text/email more than twice without a return call/text/email. Accidents happen, so the first call/text/email could have not gone through or been deleted or what have you. Sending the second one should give the hint. A third one just makes you look desperate or needy at best, stalkeresque at worst. I actually had this situation happen to me very recently. I was in communiqué with a lad via email that I had met on the dating site, and we had discussed quite a bit in written form, so I figured things were going well. As luck would have it, he ended up having jury duty on a Thursday. He emailed me during break that day, and I emailed him back, offering my phone number if he chose to communicate that way since jury duty is a little restrictive on email privileges. I didn’t hear from him all weekend. So I sent one more email on Monday, just a single sentence “more jury duty today?” email, to test the waters. No reply. So there’s where I left it. He knows where to find me. I gave him two means of communication. If he can’t employ one or the other or both, that’s not my problem. He either changed his mind or died. Either way, I’ve got to find someone new to buy my drinks, so I better get crackin’!
3. Define your boundaries. You need to know what you are and aren’t comfortable with on the first few dates and what your time frame is for certain activities. I personally have set myself a new rule to try not to kiss on the first date, or to not let it get too Hustler too fast at least. I think if the person is worth seeing again, they’ll get over the fact that you didn’t spit-bath them right away. A nice, lips only kiss sends a good message, one that shows you’re a respectable person who’s interested but not trying to push things too far. But if you’re not feeling your date, or you know things are not going in the right direction, don’t pressure yourself or let them pressure you into thinking you have to kiss them. A nice handshake or a hug gets the point across. You’ll save your dignity, and you’ll be glad you don’t have to worry about getting mono. The same principle applies to subsequent situations in dating. You have to decide before it’s too late how far you’re going to go, when. Nothing’s worse than waking up the next morning and thinking, “GAWD! Why did I do that? I didn’t want to do that yet!!” and then feeling awkward. Plus, suspense and anticipation is a powerful dating tool. If you stick to your guns, it’s not only a show of character, but it can act as an aphrodisiac. Let them work for it, ya’ll. Because once you do it, to borrow a phrase from Juno, “it’s one diddle that can’t be undone.”
4. You are your own best editor. I am the kind of person who has “flaws” that are sometimes embarrassing in public. My volume dial goes up to 11, and I tend to drop the F-Bomb like I’m the Enola Gay flying over Hiroshima. But I know this about myself, and therefore have the ability to kick it down a notch when necessary, namely when I’m trying to impress a date. Now I’m not saying you have to be someone you’re not, because that kind of behavior only comes back to bite you in the end, but a little bit of editing on the “areas of improvement” you may have is never a bad thing until you’ve gotten a feel for how your date will react. The last thing you want to do is tell an off-color joke about the very socioeconomic group his/her grandparents belong to, or have him/her employ the back-up plans early because you are a social menace. Everyone wants to be the best-smelling, best-looking, most intelligent version of themselves they can possibly be. And it doesn’t hurt to give someone glimpses of what a fun, exciting, lively date you are. But take your mother’s advice and be on your best behavior until the comfort level gets a little higher. You’ll be glad you did, and you’ll probably get another date out of it.
So that’s it! Let me know what you think, comments, suggestions, rants and raves.
Monday, May 4, 2009
When You Don't Want To Date...You Just Want A Date For The Evening
OK Ya'll,
So I thought this week's post would be a little rundown of some ideas I had about how to conduct a successful foray into the "date for the evening" category of relationships. I have found over the years that these types of "relationships" are fraught with complications, hurt feelings, and confusion, and it really doesn't have to be that way if you take a few pieces of advice to heart. So I wanted to offer my advice for hooking up Big E Style. Now, this is not a safety or physical advice type of thing, because we all know what those rules are (use birth control, always have money for a cab, take your phone, let someone know where you are, etc.), but rather how to be successful emotionally and mentally. Because that's where the problems start.
1. You MUST compartmentalize. What I mean is, you have to learn to separate feelings from actions. Men are great at this most of the time. Ladies, not so much. I know there are exceptions to every rule, but for the most part, guys are really good at disassociating the "feelings" aspect of bumping uglies from the "physical" aspect. They don't get all misty eyed when they finish, they don't sit around analyzing every word that was said, and they certainly don't sit around wondering if she'll ever call again. They just put that experience in the spank bank and call it a day. Scientists call this ability "compartmentalizing," meaning they are able to separate emotion from physical feelings, and apparently men are genetically hardwired to be better at it. So ladies, if you're going to hook up, you're going to have to figure out how to do this or you'll end up a blubbering mess the next time you drink a little too much and regale your local barkeep with sob stories. Learn to take it for what it is: he's cute, you're single and cute, he's been drinking some, you've been drinking some, and your hormones are racing faster than the Top 5 at the Kentucky Derby. Don't get to know him, don't ask him questions about his family, just see him as a hot piece just as down for a good time as you are. The minute you start wondering what your kids will look like is the minute you've gone too far. I'm not saying compartmentalizing is easy; I've fallen prey to attaching emotions where there were none, but I've learned from my mistakes. I've also learned that very, very rarely do flings turn into anything real. I was one of those exceptions; I had a vacation fling that turned into a two and half year relationship. The crux of the matter was I didn't get invested straight out of the gate. I met him on vacation, we had a lovely couple of days together, and then I put him in the "vacation fling" cubby hole in my brain and let it be. I never expected him to call again, and I had a great story to tell my friends when I got home. I even told the girls I vacationed with when they asked me if I thought he would call, "no, he got what he wanted, why would he call?" Just because he did, and because we ended up dating, doesn't mean it will ever happen again. And it doesn't mean it will happen to you. So let your mantra be: "relax and detach."You'll thank me one day.
2. Try to stage the rundown on your turf. I am a big proponent of hooking up where you feel most comfortable, and for me that's my own place. Now, I know there are reasons against this, namely you don't want people to know where you live or you have a roommate or whatever. And sometimes it is fun to get down in a new location or a neutral territory like a friend's house. All I'm saying is, if it's possible, then try to bring them back to your place. For one, you don't have to do the walk of shame the next day. You can simply stay in bed while they fumble around for shoes and accessories that got strewn about in the heat of passion, provided you haven't already gathered their belongings by the front door for convenience and ease of exit. You also have the luxury of not having to sneak out, and as an added bonus the opportunity to kick them out at your leisure rather than waiting on them to politely request that you vamoose. Then you can hightail it to the bathroom and get your business done and take a shower while you compartmentalize.
3. If you go to their place, drive your own car. Sort of a corollary to #2, but I find it easier to make a quick getaway if you have a getaway car. If you don't, you run the risk of being trapped in someone's house for hours until they wake up, or having to call a friend to pick you up and you have no idea where you are, or the worst, having to call a cab and you have no idea where you are. That said, obviously if you've had too much to drink when you're planning your hookup, you need to cab it or get a drop off or have him drive your car to his house. But if you're even close to being lucid enough to drive, hang out for a little longer and tantalize him while sobering up enough to drive to said staging area. You'll be glad you did when it's 6 am and you're ready to crash in your own bed.
4. Be a little discerning about who your chosen victim will be. The gene pool is not as varied in some places as in others, so I realize that you may not have the ability to be a "Jif girl" and be choosy. But at least try to avoid the following categories of folks for hooking up purposes: people who have a crush on you, people you have a crush on, exes, people your friends have dated and are not over yet. If you can narrow it down even a little bit, your chances of A. not causing drama and B. not getting stalked/being a stalker are significantly lessened. Like I said before, feelings are the number one reason hook ups turn into epic fails. If you have any emotional attachments still lingering or unspoken, you're taking a risk. And the only person you hurt is usually yourself. If you simply must choose a friend or acquaintance, the same "no feelings" rule still applies. You have to be sure that you're both cool with hanging out in the group without being awkward. Because there's nothing worse than the scene in Reality Bites right after Lainey and Troy hook up and things are all weird at the club. In the words of Vicki, "sex is the quickest way to ruin a friendship." Make sure your pros and cons list is well thought out before you take that leap.
5. Know when to say no. It's like the old saying goes, "friends don't let friends get with lame hookups." If the person has a significant other or a spouse, just say no. If the person is a known player and you find yourself falling prey to his charms, just say no. You'll be one of the very few who probably will. And you'll be glad you did, not only for your emotional well being, but your dignity as well. You have to make things work on your terms, not someone elses, or you'll end up with a bunch of regrets at the end of the day. You have to take control of your situation and know what you're doing. If you're out one night and you feel like hooking up, think about your plan of action. If you're cool with compartmentalizing and making it work, then all signs point to yes. If your gut tells you you're making a mistake, take a hint and just let it go. Like I said, you'll be glad you did.
So that's it folks. Let me know what you think or if you have other suggestions.
So I thought this week's post would be a little rundown of some ideas I had about how to conduct a successful foray into the "date for the evening" category of relationships. I have found over the years that these types of "relationships" are fraught with complications, hurt feelings, and confusion, and it really doesn't have to be that way if you take a few pieces of advice to heart. So I wanted to offer my advice for hooking up Big E Style. Now, this is not a safety or physical advice type of thing, because we all know what those rules are (use birth control, always have money for a cab, take your phone, let someone know where you are, etc.), but rather how to be successful emotionally and mentally. Because that's where the problems start.
1. You MUST compartmentalize. What I mean is, you have to learn to separate feelings from actions. Men are great at this most of the time. Ladies, not so much. I know there are exceptions to every rule, but for the most part, guys are really good at disassociating the "feelings" aspect of bumping uglies from the "physical" aspect. They don't get all misty eyed when they finish, they don't sit around analyzing every word that was said, and they certainly don't sit around wondering if she'll ever call again. They just put that experience in the spank bank and call it a day. Scientists call this ability "compartmentalizing," meaning they are able to separate emotion from physical feelings, and apparently men are genetically hardwired to be better at it. So ladies, if you're going to hook up, you're going to have to figure out how to do this or you'll end up a blubbering mess the next time you drink a little too much and regale your local barkeep with sob stories. Learn to take it for what it is: he's cute, you're single and cute, he's been drinking some, you've been drinking some, and your hormones are racing faster than the Top 5 at the Kentucky Derby. Don't get to know him, don't ask him questions about his family, just see him as a hot piece just as down for a good time as you are. The minute you start wondering what your kids will look like is the minute you've gone too far. I'm not saying compartmentalizing is easy; I've fallen prey to attaching emotions where there were none, but I've learned from my mistakes. I've also learned that very, very rarely do flings turn into anything real. I was one of those exceptions; I had a vacation fling that turned into a two and half year relationship. The crux of the matter was I didn't get invested straight out of the gate. I met him on vacation, we had a lovely couple of days together, and then I put him in the "vacation fling" cubby hole in my brain and let it be. I never expected him to call again, and I had a great story to tell my friends when I got home. I even told the girls I vacationed with when they asked me if I thought he would call, "no, he got what he wanted, why would he call?" Just because he did, and because we ended up dating, doesn't mean it will ever happen again. And it doesn't mean it will happen to you. So let your mantra be: "relax and detach."You'll thank me one day.
2. Try to stage the rundown on your turf. I am a big proponent of hooking up where you feel most comfortable, and for me that's my own place. Now, I know there are reasons against this, namely you don't want people to know where you live or you have a roommate or whatever. And sometimes it is fun to get down in a new location or a neutral territory like a friend's house. All I'm saying is, if it's possible, then try to bring them back to your place. For one, you don't have to do the walk of shame the next day. You can simply stay in bed while they fumble around for shoes and accessories that got strewn about in the heat of passion, provided you haven't already gathered their belongings by the front door for convenience and ease of exit. You also have the luxury of not having to sneak out, and as an added bonus the opportunity to kick them out at your leisure rather than waiting on them to politely request that you vamoose. Then you can hightail it to the bathroom and get your business done and take a shower while you compartmentalize.
3. If you go to their place, drive your own car. Sort of a corollary to #2, but I find it easier to make a quick getaway if you have a getaway car. If you don't, you run the risk of being trapped in someone's house for hours until they wake up, or having to call a friend to pick you up and you have no idea where you are, or the worst, having to call a cab and you have no idea where you are. That said, obviously if you've had too much to drink when you're planning your hookup, you need to cab it or get a drop off or have him drive your car to his house. But if you're even close to being lucid enough to drive, hang out for a little longer and tantalize him while sobering up enough to drive to said staging area. You'll be glad you did when it's 6 am and you're ready to crash in your own bed.
4. Be a little discerning about who your chosen victim will be. The gene pool is not as varied in some places as in others, so I realize that you may not have the ability to be a "Jif girl" and be choosy. But at least try to avoid the following categories of folks for hooking up purposes: people who have a crush on you, people you have a crush on, exes, people your friends have dated and are not over yet. If you can narrow it down even a little bit, your chances of A. not causing drama and B. not getting stalked/being a stalker are significantly lessened. Like I said before, feelings are the number one reason hook ups turn into epic fails. If you have any emotional attachments still lingering or unspoken, you're taking a risk. And the only person you hurt is usually yourself. If you simply must choose a friend or acquaintance, the same "no feelings" rule still applies. You have to be sure that you're both cool with hanging out in the group without being awkward. Because there's nothing worse than the scene in Reality Bites right after Lainey and Troy hook up and things are all weird at the club. In the words of Vicki, "sex is the quickest way to ruin a friendship." Make sure your pros and cons list is well thought out before you take that leap.
5. Know when to say no. It's like the old saying goes, "friends don't let friends get with lame hookups." If the person has a significant other or a spouse, just say no. If the person is a known player and you find yourself falling prey to his charms, just say no. You'll be one of the very few who probably will. And you'll be glad you did, not only for your emotional well being, but your dignity as well. You have to make things work on your terms, not someone elses, or you'll end up with a bunch of regrets at the end of the day. You have to take control of your situation and know what you're doing. If you're out one night and you feel like hooking up, think about your plan of action. If you're cool with compartmentalizing and making it work, then all signs point to yes. If your gut tells you you're making a mistake, take a hint and just let it go. Like I said, you'll be glad you did.
So that's it folks. Let me know what you think or if you have other suggestions.
Monday, April 27, 2009
When Stating the Obvious is Just Too Much
OK Y'all,
So I thought today's post would be a little something for everyone. I recently saw the movie "He's Just Not That Into You" which was adapted from a book by the same name which was written by a guy who coined the term as a writer for Sex and The City. I thought the movie was pretty good, and honestly I thought it should be a primer for every single girl who enters the dating pool. Instead of sex ed in seventh grade, a completely useless exercise in the futility of making teenagers harness their raging hormones long enough to understand WHY humping your girlfriend's leg is far superior to being an after-school special caveat, they should have "Dating 101"starting in fifth grade. Would have saved The Big E much torment and heartache as a young girl with a yen for wrestlers, I'll tell you that much.
Anyhoosle, I thought I would compose my own list of "signs he's just not that into you" for the gals and "signs she's just not that into you" for the fellas. Some of this comes from personal experience. OK, pretty much all of it comes from personal experience. And I also think that in addition to being "not into" someone, I would add in "signs that his/her interest is fading faster than Bruce Willis' hair line in the 90's" because sometimes you don't get the boom lowered on you until it's a little later in the game. So without further ado...
"Signs that He's Just Not That Into You...or Into You Anymore"
1. When you call or text him, he always returns your call or text when you are unavailable. Trust me girls, a guy is not totally clueless. If he's paying even a little bit of attention, he knows when you're supposed to be around and when you're not. The occasional phone tag is to be expected, no one can get to the phone every single time. But when there's a pattern of, "everytime he calls me back, it's after 11 pm" and your bed time is 10, or "he always texts me when I'm at work" and you don't work at a job where you can talk or text during the day, then I'm sorry sweetie, he's not feeling it. Don't make excuses. He's not so busy that he can't make an effort to reach you when you're available or better yet, lucid. He just doesn't care.
2. His gifts become increasingly practical or unromantic. Now, before you go all batshit on me, guys, let me explain. I know that men are not the best gift pickers sometimes. And I know that a lot of the time, it's because women are not the best hint givers. Ladies, do your boyfriend/husband/whatever a favor and TELL him OUTRIGHT what you want for your birthday/anniversary/christmas. I sent my last boyfriend links to the items I wanted from the Victoria's Secret catalog online, complete with size and color preference. And guess what? I got what I wanted for Christmas. It really is that easy. Guys won't complain, and you'll be glad you told him what to get you instead of suffering through yet another argument as to why he can't read your damn mind. BUT, that said, if he starts out gangbusters and really does a good job and then a year or two in starts getting you gift cards to Best Buy or flip flops as a birthday gift when he used to get you flowers and a trip to New York and Company, something's up. I mean, what smart, fun, attractive girl gets flip flops as a birthday gift when they don't come as a precursor to a package deal to Sandals? One that's on her way out, that's who.
3. He tries to get out and you won't let him. If your boyfriend/husband/whatever starts acting shady, it's completely within your rights to ask him why. I'm not talking about him being a little secretive right around your birthday, because there could be an awesome trip to Sandals and/or a surprise party. I'm talking doesn't call when he says he will, breaks plans or stands you up completely at the last minute, starts hanging out with much younger or completely different people type of stuff. And if you call him on the carpet and he starts spouting off some existential bullshit about having a quarter-life or mid-life or I don't have a life crisis, calmly roll out the rest of that carpet and send him packing right down the middle of it. You, hot mama, don't need to beg, plead, or otherwise humiliate yourself by trying to make him change his mind and want to stay. At best, you're guilting him into staying and prolonging the inevitable kiss off even longer. At worst, you'll move on and be happier without that schmuck in your life. Trust me, it only took The Big E three months of begging, pleading, and humiliation to be strung along and ultimately completely blindsided when the boy she was in love with ended up getting engaged and moving in with another woman, all while telling Big E that he "just needed to figure some things out, but I love you and want to be with you as soon as I do." Hard lesson to learn, yes. One I will have to learn again? HELL NO. If he gets over it and comes crawling back, it's up to you. But I'd think twice before putting myself through THAT again.
4. He only dates you after hours, or at your house. Ladies, this may seem like an obvious one, but if he's taking you to out of the way places at an hour when you should be in bed, there's something up. Same rule applies if he only wants to come over to your place, and you've never ever been to his place, or it was one time on a random week night and he acted nervous. I had a very handsome "friend" who would call me up, usually on a Monday, and want to play "music trivia" at his house at like, 9 o'clock. Alone. Why? because his wife was traveling out of town for her job and that was the only time he could see me after his 6 month old baby was asleep. Shady, shady, shady. I went the first time because he made it seem like other people would be there. Then I realized the jig was up, and I have politely excused myself since.
5. He doesn't introduce you to friends or family. This is a corollary to #4 more or less. If he's even the least bit interested in a future with you, he'll want you to meet his friends. His friends are an extension of his family, and in many cases, could be closer to him than family. If he constantly makes excuses as to why you can't meet them or don't want to meet them, he either doesn't have any friends whatsoever, OR he's not feeling it. Same applies for the family. If you've been going out for a while and he won't take you to meet the 'rents, you've got a problem. Namely, he's not feeling it. This applies even to long distance relationships. If he wants you, he will go out of his way to make things happen. Everyone's timeline is different, but if you feel it in your gut that something's not right, then go with it. If it's been a year and you have no idea who his friends or family are, then GET OUT.
"Signs She's Just Not That Into You...or Into You Anymore"
1. She wears sweatpants almost exclusively...even out to dinner. Guys, if your lady is anything like The Big E, she wants to impress you and wants you to be proud to have her on your arm. She will buy a new outfit, which you will probably not even notice, because she wants to look good for her. It would help if you would compliment her when she looks nice, even if it's a run of the mill dinner out, because it does make her feel better, and it could possibly get you laid. In any event, if the nice outfits start dwindling, or if her appearance gets to be more "slatternly" than "flattering," you may want to take stock. Five'll getcha ten, she's not taking the time because her interest is waning or she's feeling taken for granted. Now, on weekends and in the evenings, everyone has to put on their "wallerin' jammies" and lay on the couch some. But if it's every day, all day, take a temp check. She might be running a little low.
2. She doesn't give you her number, just her email address. As a dating site member, I can email potential suitors through their email client. After the exchange of information has reached an acceptable timbre (meaning I don't think you're a psycho and I might be interested in letting you purchase me a drink), I'll either ask for the gentleman's phone number or offer mine. Those who do not get such an invitation are those I don't deem worthy of The Big E's physical presence. So take that as a hint, fellas.
3. She's constantly busy, to the point of not having a spare moment. Especially not for you. Now, there are people out there who lead quite challenging and time-consuming lives, and they have perhaps over-extended themselves on the social calendar. But if they really feel you're worth it, they'll squeeze you in. Drinks, dinner, breakfast, whatever--they'll try their best to find the time to see you. If not, you can probably safely assume that they feel their time is better spent over-extending themselves and not extending invitations to you. Take a hint and just let it go, man.
4. Physical contact is at a minimum. Now I'm not talking about people who have been dating for a while and perhaps the ardor has cooled off enough to let you actually get to know the real them. I'm talking about the first few dates or so. If a girl likes you, she will subconsicously find little ways to touch you. Not like grabbing your crotch or licking your face (though that has been known to convey interest quite effectively), but subtle things like touching your arm when she is telling a story or standing closer to you at the bar so that you brush against her when someone tries to walk past you. If she's not exhibiting any kind of contact, or if her body language is closed off (legs and arms crossed, not making a lot of eye contact, etc.), or if she shakes your hand at the end of the date rather than hugging you, then it's probably time to hang it up and call it a day. Trust me, if we're feeling it, we will--we will--touch you!
5. She picks on you about everything. I have to say this is probably a big fault of mine. When I am not into someone, I pick on every little thing that's wrong with them. It doesn't matter if it's major or minor, I will hone in on it like a fat kid at the buffet. And I tell them every single thing I find wrong. Many, many times. Yes, it's rude and demeaning, and yes, I know it's really a horrible way to treat someone because I would hate to be treated that way myself. I didn't say I was perfect, and I didn't say it was the right thing to do. But if your girl is anything like me, she's just looking for a way out. So give her one.
Alright, that's it folks! Let me know your thoughts or comments!
So I thought today's post would be a little something for everyone. I recently saw the movie "He's Just Not That Into You" which was adapted from a book by the same name which was written by a guy who coined the term as a writer for Sex and The City. I thought the movie was pretty good, and honestly I thought it should be a primer for every single girl who enters the dating pool. Instead of sex ed in seventh grade, a completely useless exercise in the futility of making teenagers harness their raging hormones long enough to understand WHY humping your girlfriend's leg is far superior to being an after-school special caveat, they should have "Dating 101"starting in fifth grade. Would have saved The Big E much torment and heartache as a young girl with a yen for wrestlers, I'll tell you that much.
Anyhoosle, I thought I would compose my own list of "signs he's just not that into you" for the gals and "signs she's just not that into you" for the fellas. Some of this comes from personal experience. OK, pretty much all of it comes from personal experience. And I also think that in addition to being "not into" someone, I would add in "signs that his/her interest is fading faster than Bruce Willis' hair line in the 90's" because sometimes you don't get the boom lowered on you until it's a little later in the game. So without further ado...
"Signs that He's Just Not That Into You...or Into You Anymore"
1. When you call or text him, he always returns your call or text when you are unavailable. Trust me girls, a guy is not totally clueless. If he's paying even a little bit of attention, he knows when you're supposed to be around and when you're not. The occasional phone tag is to be expected, no one can get to the phone every single time. But when there's a pattern of, "everytime he calls me back, it's after 11 pm" and your bed time is 10, or "he always texts me when I'm at work" and you don't work at a job where you can talk or text during the day, then I'm sorry sweetie, he's not feeling it. Don't make excuses. He's not so busy that he can't make an effort to reach you when you're available or better yet, lucid. He just doesn't care.
2. His gifts become increasingly practical or unromantic. Now, before you go all batshit on me, guys, let me explain. I know that men are not the best gift pickers sometimes. And I know that a lot of the time, it's because women are not the best hint givers. Ladies, do your boyfriend/husband/whatever a favor and TELL him OUTRIGHT what you want for your birthday/anniversary/christmas. I sent my last boyfriend links to the items I wanted from the Victoria's Secret catalog online, complete with size and color preference. And guess what? I got what I wanted for Christmas. It really is that easy. Guys won't complain, and you'll be glad you told him what to get you instead of suffering through yet another argument as to why he can't read your damn mind. BUT, that said, if he starts out gangbusters and really does a good job and then a year or two in starts getting you gift cards to Best Buy or flip flops as a birthday gift when he used to get you flowers and a trip to New York and Company, something's up. I mean, what smart, fun, attractive girl gets flip flops as a birthday gift when they don't come as a precursor to a package deal to Sandals? One that's on her way out, that's who.
3. He tries to get out and you won't let him. If your boyfriend/husband/whatever starts acting shady, it's completely within your rights to ask him why. I'm not talking about him being a little secretive right around your birthday, because there could be an awesome trip to Sandals and/or a surprise party. I'm talking doesn't call when he says he will, breaks plans or stands you up completely at the last minute, starts hanging out with much younger or completely different people type of stuff. And if you call him on the carpet and he starts spouting off some existential bullshit about having a quarter-life or mid-life or I don't have a life crisis, calmly roll out the rest of that carpet and send him packing right down the middle of it. You, hot mama, don't need to beg, plead, or otherwise humiliate yourself by trying to make him change his mind and want to stay. At best, you're guilting him into staying and prolonging the inevitable kiss off even longer. At worst, you'll move on and be happier without that schmuck in your life. Trust me, it only took The Big E three months of begging, pleading, and humiliation to be strung along and ultimately completely blindsided when the boy she was in love with ended up getting engaged and moving in with another woman, all while telling Big E that he "just needed to figure some things out, but I love you and want to be with you as soon as I do." Hard lesson to learn, yes. One I will have to learn again? HELL NO. If he gets over it and comes crawling back, it's up to you. But I'd think twice before putting myself through THAT again.
4. He only dates you after hours, or at your house. Ladies, this may seem like an obvious one, but if he's taking you to out of the way places at an hour when you should be in bed, there's something up. Same rule applies if he only wants to come over to your place, and you've never ever been to his place, or it was one time on a random week night and he acted nervous. I had a very handsome "friend" who would call me up, usually on a Monday, and want to play "music trivia" at his house at like, 9 o'clock. Alone. Why? because his wife was traveling out of town for her job and that was the only time he could see me after his 6 month old baby was asleep. Shady, shady, shady. I went the first time because he made it seem like other people would be there. Then I realized the jig was up, and I have politely excused myself since.
5. He doesn't introduce you to friends or family. This is a corollary to #4 more or less. If he's even the least bit interested in a future with you, he'll want you to meet his friends. His friends are an extension of his family, and in many cases, could be closer to him than family. If he constantly makes excuses as to why you can't meet them or don't want to meet them, he either doesn't have any friends whatsoever, OR he's not feeling it. Same applies for the family. If you've been going out for a while and he won't take you to meet the 'rents, you've got a problem. Namely, he's not feeling it. This applies even to long distance relationships. If he wants you, he will go out of his way to make things happen. Everyone's timeline is different, but if you feel it in your gut that something's not right, then go with it. If it's been a year and you have no idea who his friends or family are, then GET OUT.
"Signs She's Just Not That Into You...or Into You Anymore"
1. She wears sweatpants almost exclusively...even out to dinner. Guys, if your lady is anything like The Big E, she wants to impress you and wants you to be proud to have her on your arm. She will buy a new outfit, which you will probably not even notice, because she wants to look good for her. It would help if you would compliment her when she looks nice, even if it's a run of the mill dinner out, because it does make her feel better, and it could possibly get you laid. In any event, if the nice outfits start dwindling, or if her appearance gets to be more "slatternly" than "flattering," you may want to take stock. Five'll getcha ten, she's not taking the time because her interest is waning or she's feeling taken for granted. Now, on weekends and in the evenings, everyone has to put on their "wallerin' jammies" and lay on the couch some. But if it's every day, all day, take a temp check. She might be running a little low.
2. She doesn't give you her number, just her email address. As a dating site member, I can email potential suitors through their email client. After the exchange of information has reached an acceptable timbre (meaning I don't think you're a psycho and I might be interested in letting you purchase me a drink), I'll either ask for the gentleman's phone number or offer mine. Those who do not get such an invitation are those I don't deem worthy of The Big E's physical presence. So take that as a hint, fellas.
3. She's constantly busy, to the point of not having a spare moment. Especially not for you. Now, there are people out there who lead quite challenging and time-consuming lives, and they have perhaps over-extended themselves on the social calendar. But if they really feel you're worth it, they'll squeeze you in. Drinks, dinner, breakfast, whatever--they'll try their best to find the time to see you. If not, you can probably safely assume that they feel their time is better spent over-extending themselves and not extending invitations to you. Take a hint and just let it go, man.
4. Physical contact is at a minimum. Now I'm not talking about people who have been dating for a while and perhaps the ardor has cooled off enough to let you actually get to know the real them. I'm talking about the first few dates or so. If a girl likes you, she will subconsicously find little ways to touch you. Not like grabbing your crotch or licking your face (though that has been known to convey interest quite effectively), but subtle things like touching your arm when she is telling a story or standing closer to you at the bar so that you brush against her when someone tries to walk past you. If she's not exhibiting any kind of contact, or if her body language is closed off (legs and arms crossed, not making a lot of eye contact, etc.), or if she shakes your hand at the end of the date rather than hugging you, then it's probably time to hang it up and call it a day. Trust me, if we're feeling it, we will--we will--touch you!
5. She picks on you about everything. I have to say this is probably a big fault of mine. When I am not into someone, I pick on every little thing that's wrong with them. It doesn't matter if it's major or minor, I will hone in on it like a fat kid at the buffet. And I tell them every single thing I find wrong. Many, many times. Yes, it's rude and demeaning, and yes, I know it's really a horrible way to treat someone because I would hate to be treated that way myself. I didn't say I was perfect, and I didn't say it was the right thing to do. But if your girl is anything like me, she's just looking for a way out. So give her one.
Alright, that's it folks! Let me know your thoughts or comments!
Monday, April 13, 2009
The Unbearable Lightness of Being...On a Date
OK Ya'll,
So while I was out testing the waters of the gene pool yet again this weekend, it occurred to me that there are two things absolutely necessary to get through most situations in life, but particularly a new date: a bottle of wine and a good sense of humor. Obviously the wine helps unleash the sense of humor some people are hiding; it can also intensify the one you already have on display. But a sense of humor, not just yours but your date's, is essential for getting past the awkward "Hey, howyadoin'?" introductory jitters and also for taking subsequent awkward situations in stride. I was pleased that my date this weekend thought to offer me both the wine and the good humor. It goes a little something like this....
We met up at Tomato Head for some din-din and conversation. For those of you who have never been to Tomato Head, it is an eclectic little joint that offers tasty food and some pretty decent hippie watching. We were surrounded by no less than three tables of mixed sexual orientation in the 2 hours we were there! One guy looked like Jimmy Buffett, if Jimmy Buffett were being played by Richard Simmons in a made-for-Lifetime-movie. Good stuff.
Anyhooser, the Tomato Head also has artwork festooning their otherwise drab beige walls, and sometimes this artwork is tasteful, sometimes it is complete and utter swill. The particular selection gracing our table fell into the latter category. I took a picture of it with my camera phone, so it's not the best but you can get the gist of it above. I asked my date what he thought the craptastic paint-by-numbers job that we were forced to endure was supposed to be, and together we came up with the following ideas:
1. Randy Owen (the lead singer from Alabama) has a bad manicure and has just busted in on Neo from the Matrix and they're getting ready to duke it out Industrial Light and Magic style.
2. Randy Owen is a werewolf, inexplicably topless but managing to keep on dark denim (so 2 years ago) and is trying to intimidate a disheveled, cardigan-clad Mexican vampire named Luis.
3. Randy Owen and Luis the Mexican vampire are possibly homosexuals and are having a techno dance party, but you can't see the disco ball because it's outside the frame of reference of the picture, though their hands are raised as if they are already sweating to some raunchy Pet Shop Boys remix.
Any other thoughts or suggestions are welcome.
I have no doubt that the bottle of wine being 3/4 gone had a lot to do with the level of participation, but I will have to give the boy props for going along with the madness that is the Mind of The Big E. It's not every day you have a date willing to indulge your sardonic critique of some poor schmuck's ridiculously elementary artwork. Even I know you've got to draw some sort of shadowing beneath a person's feet in a painting or they look like they're levitating. Get serious. And the sad part is, this child wanted $250 for that piece of shit. I wouldn't walk from here to my front door (around 30 feet) to pick it up off the sidewalk for free. But I digress.
I really appreciated my date for being so jovial and willing to go along with me. I also really appreciated that he provided a lovely bottled libation that appealed to my epicurean side while being a participant in our MOMA moment. It was cultured and crass at the same time, which is increasingly hard to find these days. So my advice to you, gentle reader, is this: I would encourage those of you out there who are more or less quirky like me to just let it all hang out. If your date jumps in with both feet and provides more color commentary, fantastique! If not, I'd politely let him pick up the check and then feign an illness or at the very least have backup plans post-date so you don't have to lie. I always make back-up plans with friends, just in case. You never know when you're going to have a stage 5 clinger on your hands or you've got to make a quick getaway because Mr. Diarrhea of the Mouth has just told you all about his quest for the perfect remedy for his raging case of eczema. Or on the off chance that you end up liking the person, you can always invite them along so they can get a sense of what you're like in your natural habitat. It's a win-win most of the time. So, happy dating, and leave me a comment if you want!
Friday, April 10, 2009
Dude...we just got Dorffed!
OK Ya'll,
The theme of this post can best be summed up in the first few lines of "Bust A Move" by Young MC:
This here's a tale for all the fellas
Try to do what those ladies tell us
Get shot down 'cause you're overzealous
Play hard to get females get jealous
Basically, this is a story about a minor brush with fame, and how that minor brush was just as bad as some of you regular guys out there feel you are in the "pick-up line" department. I tell you this to make you feel better about yourselves, guys. Because if this B-lister can't knock the socks off of The Big E, then you've still got a shot. It's also a little bit of a lesson in how to avoid coming across as a douchebag (now in a convenient 2-pack)!
So I was out a couple of winters ago with a couple of girlfriends in Nashville, and these girls and I were looking to "straighten up our act and boogie down" as it were. I'll call my friends "Fran" and "Kat" for posterity's sake. Fran, Kat, and The Big E are a sophisticated bunch, and we are diverse enough to offer a little bit of something for everyone. Fran is oh-so-lovely, lithe, and boho chic; Kat is glam and straight out of Junior League. The Big E, as you know, is a little bit country and a little bit rock and roll. So we went to dinner at Sambuca, and then headed over to a dance club/bar called Layla Rul. The upstairs area is where all the action happens--there's a bar (natch) and along the walls are couches and seating areas, and then there are some tables scattered around the dance floor. Fran, Kat, and I perched our fine selves at a table near the dance floor and got us a frosty libation to enjoy whilst we watched all the white people try to shake it like a pen out of ink. And then he appeared....
It was like he just materialized at my elbow. I was sitting by myself across the table from Fran and Kat, and when I looked to my left, he was standing there, all five feet eight inches of him, looking at me. I was about eye level with him because the chair I sat in was one of those high top bar stool jobs. He looked like an aging frat boy with too much hair gel for his rapidly receding hairline, and a unlimited visit membership to the local Suntan Station. He was reasonably cute, but not enough to make The Big E lose her wits. THAT would take someone like, oh, Paul Walker. So he reaches out a hand and says, "Hi, I'm Stephen, I'm from L.A." Now, gentle reader, keep in mind that The Big E has a reputation to uphold, and since I am pretty fab I don't want just any old person knowing my true identity. I mean, Batman doesn't go around introducing himself as Bruce Wayne when he's in full crime-fighting regalia does he? Absolutely not. The Big E is always "Amy from Atlanta" when she is out on the town and surveying her domain. Those who dare approach don't get the real story until they prove themselves worthy.
So I shake his hand and say, "Hi! I'm Amy, I'm from Atlanta." To which he replies, "That's cool. I was born in Atlanta. So how are you ladies doing?" I made small talk with him for a minute before he turns to appraise my two lovely ladyfriends, who I must say were absolutely non-plussed at our visitor's appearance or demeanor. He attempted to make small talk with Kat and Fran to no avail. They rebuffed him as if he were not a B-list star with a questionable taste in fashion and dating choices.
This whole exchange was rather innocuous until he made the mistake of revealing the inner-douchebag too early....
After a couple of dead ends, he looks at Fran and says "Why are you being so mean? I'm like, the best looking guy in here." And then, without warning, he whips his head around in full Blue Steel Zoolander fashion, and gives us his best "reeeally reeeally good-loooking" face as he takes a sip from the teeny-weeny straw in his cocktail and stares us down. It was just like the movies, in slow motion, where the disco ball drops out of the sky, the smoke machine starts churning, and "Dreamweaver" starts playing in the background. He really, honestly, thought he was the shit. He thought that his Magnum look would be all it would take to turn three lovely, confident females into steaming pools of slavering jello. And while I admire his bravado and swagger, alas, he was mistaken. Sorely mistaken, I might add. Homey don't play that.
It was all we could do not to do a spit-take right in his face. Being the calm, cool-as-a-cucumber-in-a-bowl-of-hot-sauce gal that Fran is, she wittily retorted, "I'm not being mean, I'm just not into boys." And somewhere in the distance, I heard the immortal words of Bon Jovi ringing out through the streets of Nashville: SHOT DOOOOOOWN, IN A BLAZE OF GLOOOOORY.... Let me tell ya, brother man could not make his exit stage right fast enough. He skulked off to the other side of the room, behind some roped off section of couches more or less concealed by the security staff. We tried to look and see who else was back there, but we were unsuccessful.
Afterward, I looked at my lady friends and I said, "uh, girls, I think that was Stephen Dorff. Or it looked a lot like him." They were incredulous. So I did some research on the internet, and his stats matched up to what he has listed on imdb. You can check it out here:
http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001151/
Fran checked around with a few reliable local gossip sources, and sure enough, Our Boy Dorff was in town that weekend, chillin' with Kid Rock. I guess perhaps they had bonded since they both dated Pam Anderson, and consequently probably both have Hepatitis now. Sucks for them, but thank GAWD we didn't fall for it and end up with a terminal liver illness. We prefer the kind of liver illness you can sleep off and re-hydrate to prevent. Now every time I go to Nashville to visit Fran, I tell her, "Hey! Let's go get Dorffed!" and we just laugh and laugh at how lame he was.
So, like I said, a minor brush with a B-list celebrity, but the moral of the story is this....fellas, if you're genuine, sincere, and friendly, we can't fault you for that. Even if you're not our type, you won't get shot down too harshly because we appreciate your effort. However, if you attempt some serious cockery, acting like you're hot snot on a silver platter when you're just cold boogers on a paper plate, your justice will be swift and it will be blindingly painful. A simple, "Hi, my name is (insert name here). What's yours?" or even better, "I saw you over here and wanted to say hello. Can I buy you a drink?" will suffice. No need to pull out your best David Beckham impersonation, no need to be arrogant, just chill til the next episode. Otherwise you might be asked to borrow your lighter. And when we flick that little flame up in the air and sing "Dream On", you know you've been dismissed.
The theme of this post can best be summed up in the first few lines of "Bust A Move" by Young MC:
This here's a tale for all the fellas
Try to do what those ladies tell us
Get shot down 'cause you're overzealous
Play hard to get females get jealous
Basically, this is a story about a minor brush with fame, and how that minor brush was just as bad as some of you regular guys out there feel you are in the "pick-up line" department. I tell you this to make you feel better about yourselves, guys. Because if this B-lister can't knock the socks off of The Big E, then you've still got a shot. It's also a little bit of a lesson in how to avoid coming across as a douchebag (now in a convenient 2-pack)!
So I was out a couple of winters ago with a couple of girlfriends in Nashville, and these girls and I were looking to "straighten up our act and boogie down" as it were. I'll call my friends "Fran" and "Kat" for posterity's sake. Fran, Kat, and The Big E are a sophisticated bunch, and we are diverse enough to offer a little bit of something for everyone. Fran is oh-so-lovely, lithe, and boho chic; Kat is glam and straight out of Junior League. The Big E, as you know, is a little bit country and a little bit rock and roll. So we went to dinner at Sambuca, and then headed over to a dance club/bar called Layla Rul. The upstairs area is where all the action happens--there's a bar (natch) and along the walls are couches and seating areas, and then there are some tables scattered around the dance floor. Fran, Kat, and I perched our fine selves at a table near the dance floor and got us a frosty libation to enjoy whilst we watched all the white people try to shake it like a pen out of ink. And then he appeared....
It was like he just materialized at my elbow. I was sitting by myself across the table from Fran and Kat, and when I looked to my left, he was standing there, all five feet eight inches of him, looking at me. I was about eye level with him because the chair I sat in was one of those high top bar stool jobs. He looked like an aging frat boy with too much hair gel for his rapidly receding hairline, and a unlimited visit membership to the local Suntan Station. He was reasonably cute, but not enough to make The Big E lose her wits. THAT would take someone like, oh, Paul Walker. So he reaches out a hand and says, "Hi, I'm Stephen, I'm from L.A." Now, gentle reader, keep in mind that The Big E has a reputation to uphold, and since I am pretty fab I don't want just any old person knowing my true identity. I mean, Batman doesn't go around introducing himself as Bruce Wayne when he's in full crime-fighting regalia does he? Absolutely not. The Big E is always "Amy from Atlanta" when she is out on the town and surveying her domain. Those who dare approach don't get the real story until they prove themselves worthy.
So I shake his hand and say, "Hi! I'm Amy, I'm from Atlanta." To which he replies, "That's cool. I was born in Atlanta. So how are you ladies doing?" I made small talk with him for a minute before he turns to appraise my two lovely ladyfriends, who I must say were absolutely non-plussed at our visitor's appearance or demeanor. He attempted to make small talk with Kat and Fran to no avail. They rebuffed him as if he were not a B-list star with a questionable taste in fashion and dating choices.
This whole exchange was rather innocuous until he made the mistake of revealing the inner-douchebag too early....
After a couple of dead ends, he looks at Fran and says "Why are you being so mean? I'm like, the best looking guy in here." And then, without warning, he whips his head around in full Blue Steel Zoolander fashion, and gives us his best "reeeally reeeally good-loooking" face as he takes a sip from the teeny-weeny straw in his cocktail and stares us down. It was just like the movies, in slow motion, where the disco ball drops out of the sky, the smoke machine starts churning, and "Dreamweaver" starts playing in the background. He really, honestly, thought he was the shit. He thought that his Magnum look would be all it would take to turn three lovely, confident females into steaming pools of slavering jello. And while I admire his bravado and swagger, alas, he was mistaken. Sorely mistaken, I might add. Homey don't play that.
It was all we could do not to do a spit-take right in his face. Being the calm, cool-as-a-cucumber-in-a-bowl-of-hot-sauce gal that Fran is, she wittily retorted, "I'm not being mean, I'm just not into boys." And somewhere in the distance, I heard the immortal words of Bon Jovi ringing out through the streets of Nashville: SHOT DOOOOOOWN, IN A BLAZE OF GLOOOOORY.... Let me tell ya, brother man could not make his exit stage right fast enough. He skulked off to the other side of the room, behind some roped off section of couches more or less concealed by the security staff. We tried to look and see who else was back there, but we were unsuccessful.
Afterward, I looked at my lady friends and I said, "uh, girls, I think that was Stephen Dorff. Or it looked a lot like him." They were incredulous. So I did some research on the internet, and his stats matched up to what he has listed on imdb. You can check it out here:
http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001151/
Fran checked around with a few reliable local gossip sources, and sure enough, Our Boy Dorff was in town that weekend, chillin' with Kid Rock. I guess perhaps they had bonded since they both dated Pam Anderson, and consequently probably both have Hepatitis now. Sucks for them, but thank GAWD we didn't fall for it and end up with a terminal liver illness. We prefer the kind of liver illness you can sleep off and re-hydrate to prevent. Now every time I go to Nashville to visit Fran, I tell her, "Hey! Let's go get Dorffed!" and we just laugh and laugh at how lame he was.
So, like I said, a minor brush with a B-list celebrity, but the moral of the story is this....fellas, if you're genuine, sincere, and friendly, we can't fault you for that. Even if you're not our type, you won't get shot down too harshly because we appreciate your effort. However, if you attempt some serious cockery, acting like you're hot snot on a silver platter when you're just cold boogers on a paper plate, your justice will be swift and it will be blindingly painful. A simple, "Hi, my name is (insert name here). What's yours?" or even better, "I saw you over here and wanted to say hello. Can I buy you a drink?" will suffice. No need to pull out your best David Beckham impersonation, no need to be arrogant, just chill til the next episode. Otherwise you might be asked to borrow your lighter. And when we flick that little flame up in the air and sing "Dream On", you know you've been dismissed.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
We Should Mate...uh...I mean, date
OK Ya'll,
So here recently I signed up for a dating site, just to see what's out there and what kind of ego boost The Big E could get. I'd been on this particular site a few years back, right before I met the King of Shitty Ex-Boyfriends, aka El Douchebag, and I thought I'd check it out again. My previous experience did not yield very good results--I'd gone out with a couple of guys, but nothing worked out. One guy was too young and naive and therefore I felt bad corrupting his pure, white soul, and another guy was decent but short, and unfortunately all his other appendages were as disappointingly as short as he was. So much so that I had resorted to watching tv during the act so both of us could at least feel something somewhere.
Recent experience has not been much better. I signed up sometime around the first of this year, for a 3 month stint in cyberdating and all the accoutrements thereof. I took the time to carefully craft a witty yet intriguing profile best suited to my strengths--namely, sarcasm, devastatingly gorgeous photos, and a smattering of above-average vocabulary skills. As was to be expected in my first few days, I had a couple of takers right off the bat. One who ended up meeting another girl and thus becoming a friend, one who I actually went out with. I'll tell you all about THAT debacle in a later post. Suffice it to say he's not getting another date with Big E. Rather, I'd prefer a restraining order, or at least a thorough psychological evaluation by said dating site before I'd unleash him on the rest of the unsuspecting XX chromosomes out there. I've been on a few more dates with a few more unremarkable fellas since then, and I've actually got another date this weekend. But I digress.
The point of telling you all this is not to brag about my exploits, but rather to inform you of a few pointers that I'd like to share regarding profiles. I highly encourage those of you who are interested in a good laugh and maybe even a guffaw or two to check out a dating site, because entertainment value alone is worth the time you take to create a profile and post it up for the world to see. If you're even halfway serious at all, however, please take into account the following "tips and tricks" The Big E wants to share with you to make your foray into cybersex the best it can be.
1. Men (and I would say ladies too!! *clawing eyes out*) PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do not post photos of yourself with no shirt on. I don't care if you're Paul Walker or Paul Giamatti--nobody wants to see that!! It's not funny, endearing, or even remotely sexy, so just don't. If for no one else's sake but your dignity's.
2. DO NOT TYPE YOUR WHOLE PROFILE IN ALL CAPS. I know where the caps lock button is, and I know how to gently reach over with my pinky and tap it so that it is not on all the time. The girl who actually takes the time to look at the sad representation of your life in 2000 words or less will thank you, and so will her optometrist, for saving the eyestrain.
3. Conversely, do not type your entire profile in all lower case. And please, for the love of Zeus, use punctuation! I cannot tell you how many profiles I have seen that look like this:
i like to go snowboarding skiing golfing and anything outdoors i am laid back and fun i like to go to the movies...
and so on. Do yourself a favor and familiarize yourself with the Shift key and those lovely little buttons right next to the 'm' on your keyboard. Spelling, not to mention grammar, is important as well. I understand the occasional typo, but for Pete's sake, it is "your" meaning it belongs to you and "you're" to contract the words 'you are.' And 'too' means in addition, or as well as, like "I'd like to date you, too, GoodGrammarGuy29!"; 'to' means going somewhere, or to set off a phrase prepositionally as a modifier, like "I'm going to have to delete you from my favorites, IdiotALLCAPSGuy14".
4. Help a sister out and try to come up with something original to say. There are at least 3 out of 5 profiles I read on a daily basis that start with "I'm a laid-back, fun loving guy who is down to earth.." or "I hate talking about myself on here! What am I supposed to say?"
Well for starters you could say you don't have an original bone in your body and you are probably just as shitty to talk to in person as you are on your 2000 word or less profile. The most read profiles are the ones that grab your attention in the first sentence or two. So in the words of Chaka Khan, tell me something good. Tell me about the coolest place you've ever been. Tell me the craziest thing you've ever done for love. Tell me something besides how effing laid back you are. Because that gets you a little red 'x' for delete faster than anything.
5. DO NOT tell people that your ex-girlfriend is crazy or that you just got out of a really long relationship!! I read one profile that literally said this "well ive been divorced twice and had one broken engagement.." ARE YOU EFFING SERIOUS? NO self respecting girl is going to hitch her caboose to that train wreck. You might as well pack up that moonshine still and head on back to your trailer, Jeb, 'cuz there ain't nobody out there fer ya like yer sister.
6. Have an eye-catching headline that's not so ridiculously overdone that it's lame. If I have to read "Insert Headline Here" or "Hi Ladies!" one more time, I think I will have to get a new motherboard because mine will be fried from vomitous explosion. What about a line from your favorite movie (as long as it's not "Hello, Clarice" or something you watched on your favorite porn channel recently) or a nice quote from your favorite book (assuming you know how to read)? Nobody said you have to be Shakespeare, but do try to put some thought into it.
So that's about all I have to say about creating a dating profile worth reading. I'd love to hear your thoughts and comments though!
So here recently I signed up for a dating site, just to see what's out there and what kind of ego boost The Big E could get. I'd been on this particular site a few years back, right before I met the King of Shitty Ex-Boyfriends, aka El Douchebag, and I thought I'd check it out again. My previous experience did not yield very good results--I'd gone out with a couple of guys, but nothing worked out. One guy was too young and naive and therefore I felt bad corrupting his pure, white soul, and another guy was decent but short, and unfortunately all his other appendages were as disappointingly as short as he was. So much so that I had resorted to watching tv during the act so both of us could at least feel something somewhere.
Recent experience has not been much better. I signed up sometime around the first of this year, for a 3 month stint in cyberdating and all the accoutrements thereof. I took the time to carefully craft a witty yet intriguing profile best suited to my strengths--namely, sarcasm, devastatingly gorgeous photos, and a smattering of above-average vocabulary skills. As was to be expected in my first few days, I had a couple of takers right off the bat. One who ended up meeting another girl and thus becoming a friend, one who I actually went out with. I'll tell you all about THAT debacle in a later post. Suffice it to say he's not getting another date with Big E. Rather, I'd prefer a restraining order, or at least a thorough psychological evaluation by said dating site before I'd unleash him on the rest of the unsuspecting XX chromosomes out there. I've been on a few more dates with a few more unremarkable fellas since then, and I've actually got another date this weekend. But I digress.
The point of telling you all this is not to brag about my exploits, but rather to inform you of a few pointers that I'd like to share regarding profiles. I highly encourage those of you who are interested in a good laugh and maybe even a guffaw or two to check out a dating site, because entertainment value alone is worth the time you take to create a profile and post it up for the world to see. If you're even halfway serious at all, however, please take into account the following "tips and tricks" The Big E wants to share with you to make your foray into cybersex the best it can be.
1. Men (and I would say ladies too!! *clawing eyes out*) PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do not post photos of yourself with no shirt on. I don't care if you're Paul Walker or Paul Giamatti--nobody wants to see that!! It's not funny, endearing, or even remotely sexy, so just don't. If for no one else's sake but your dignity's.
2. DO NOT TYPE YOUR WHOLE PROFILE IN ALL CAPS. I know where the caps lock button is, and I know how to gently reach over with my pinky and tap it so that it is not on all the time. The girl who actually takes the time to look at the sad representation of your life in 2000 words or less will thank you, and so will her optometrist, for saving the eyestrain.
3. Conversely, do not type your entire profile in all lower case. And please, for the love of Zeus, use punctuation! I cannot tell you how many profiles I have seen that look like this:
i like to go snowboarding skiing golfing and anything outdoors i am laid back and fun i like to go to the movies...
and so on. Do yourself a favor and familiarize yourself with the Shift key and those lovely little buttons right next to the 'm' on your keyboard. Spelling, not to mention grammar, is important as well. I understand the occasional typo, but for Pete's sake, it is "your" meaning it belongs to you and "you're" to contract the words 'you are.' And 'too' means in addition, or as well as, like "I'd like to date you, too, GoodGrammarGuy29!"; 'to' means going somewhere, or to set off a phrase prepositionally as a modifier, like "I'm going to have to delete you from my favorites, IdiotALLCAPSGuy14".
4. Help a sister out and try to come up with something original to say. There are at least 3 out of 5 profiles I read on a daily basis that start with "I'm a laid-back, fun loving guy who is down to earth.." or "I hate talking about myself on here! What am I supposed to say?"
Well for starters you could say you don't have an original bone in your body and you are probably just as shitty to talk to in person as you are on your 2000 word or less profile. The most read profiles are the ones that grab your attention in the first sentence or two. So in the words of Chaka Khan, tell me something good. Tell me about the coolest place you've ever been. Tell me the craziest thing you've ever done for love. Tell me something besides how effing laid back you are. Because that gets you a little red 'x' for delete faster than anything.
5. DO NOT tell people that your ex-girlfriend is crazy or that you just got out of a really long relationship!! I read one profile that literally said this "well ive been divorced twice and had one broken engagement.." ARE YOU EFFING SERIOUS? NO self respecting girl is going to hitch her caboose to that train wreck. You might as well pack up that moonshine still and head on back to your trailer, Jeb, 'cuz there ain't nobody out there fer ya like yer sister.
6. Have an eye-catching headline that's not so ridiculously overdone that it's lame. If I have to read "Insert Headline Here" or "Hi Ladies!" one more time, I think I will have to get a new motherboard because mine will be fried from vomitous explosion. What about a line from your favorite movie (as long as it's not "Hello, Clarice" or something you watched on your favorite porn channel recently) or a nice quote from your favorite book (assuming you know how to read)? Nobody said you have to be Shakespeare, but do try to put some thought into it.
So that's about all I have to say about creating a dating profile worth reading. I'd love to hear your thoughts and comments though!
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