Singles Awareness Day

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dating & Avoiding Technological Ties

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Facebook: Making Breakups More Painful

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

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

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

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

1) The Shame Quotient

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

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

2) The Ex Factor

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

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

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

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

Facebook and Our Feelings?!

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

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

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

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

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

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

Never Single, Always Attached

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunday Styles

People like myself are the reason that we’re all going to have to soon pay $165 per year to read The New York Times online. For those who rarely have the time or energy to sit down with a hard copy of a newspaper, our smartphones and laptops provide a quick and easy solution to getting the juice without newsprint ink on our fingers. Heck, for the amount of news I read online-- which has ultimately caused such papers to recognize potential areas of profit-- I really should earn a commission on every dollar they make. Either that or I definitely shouldn’t be paying the fee, because people like me made the fee worthwhile and valuable in the first place.

On rare occasion though, I do succumb to the joys of doing things old- school and sit down with an actual Sunday paper in hand. Usually it’s when I’m home in my childhood house, when some mysterious fairy has already placed it on the kitchen table-- right before she laid out my breakfast in front of it. Now while I normally read somewhat intelligent articles on my iPhone on the way to work, Sunday mornings at home call for a more indulgent read: The Sunday Styles.

Why, you might ask, do I automatically flip to this section? Especially coming from the girl who hates engagements and romance, how can I be so contradictory?

I think the answer is that it’s flat out enjoyable to catch a sneak peek into the lives of people we’d never otherwise encounter. As I read about Ms. Yale University the biochemistry graduate whose father is a world renowned cardiologist, I consider how bizarre her conversations with her Harvard philosophy major husband must be. Do they spend hours debating evolution at the dinner table, or perhaps they do they plan their upcoming exotic vacation?

Whatever the case, it’s interesting to get a look into the lives of strangers on their special days, to read the sometimes fascinating biographies of the newlyweds. The best is when we’re provided short vignettes that describe how the two met at a cocktail party when he spilled his red wine down her pastel colored dress, or how she knew from the start at that Halloween party that she just had to know Mr. George Bush impersonator.

What’s always been apparent, though, is that the New York Times is exceptionally exclusive and elitist. Sorry, but you’re not going to find Mrs. Manicurist and Mr. Truck driver’s announcement, although I think their story might be more interesting than two boat shoe clad and stuffy thirty-somethings.

As of recently, there’s apparently a new website that attempts to quantify exactly how many of the people in these announcements are Ivy League educated. Not only Ivy League educated, but also married by a Catholic Priest and women keeping their last names.

Meet WeddingCredential.com (see http://www.weddingcredential.com) and you too can search 3,981 NYTimes wedding announcements to see how many female Princeton graduates who kept their last names. You can also learn how many Goldman Sachs employees who graduated Summa Cum Laude have also been listed. Because we all really care about these details.

According to a New York Magazine article Columbia is the Most-Named University in the Times Wedding Pages, Columbia is the most-named university in the Times Wedding Pages. OK not funny, sorry. But really, it’s interesting to consider how NY Magazine has broken down these seemingly useless yet interesting statistics. (See http://nymag.com/daily/intel/2010/07/columbia_is_the_most-named_uni.html.)

First off, NY Magazine’s analysis has led me to consider the fact that the New York Times is, in reality, pretty elitist. That we all already knew. But, really, who would actually care to read about someone non-Ivy Leage educated? I won’t even begin to mention those people who not only didn’t go to top tier schools, but those who were raised by teachers or-- even worse-- wait, I can’t think of anything the Times would shun more than that.

Beyond that, I think the article makes a very significant point: it’s because of the prevalence of words like “Jdate,” “online dating,” and “Facebook” in marriage announcements that online dating as a whole has become more socially acceptable overall in America. Since we’ve been reading those words repeatedly every Sunday morning for years now, we’ve somehow begun to convince ourselves that meeting someone over the Internet is less taboo.

I also learned that if you want to try and get a three by six inch spot in the Sunday paper, you too can now search this new website. Your seach can help you find out if you’re more likely to make it in if you’re marrying a surgeon or lawyer. You can also determine if your chances are better with a man whose father was a salesman or one whose mom was a CPA. I don’t know about you, but my one and only life goal has been to make it into that section-- so much so that I’m willing to spend hours plotting a way how. (Can you believe that some girls actually do think that though!?)

So what, in actuality, is this new site good for? Besides a little fun with statistics for non-mathematicians, I’m not really sure. What I do know, though, is that we Americans are nosey. We like learning a bit or two about that handsome stranger who we’ll only meet on paper, and we feel validated by the fact that even that gorgeous woman met her soul mate online and-- gasp-- not at a friend’s party. Perhaps it’s sad that one three-page section of a newspaper impacts us this much socially but hey, we’ve gotta get with The Times, folks.

A little (Tweeting) bird told me you're proposing to me?

The idea of men proposing makes me gag. Doesn’t matter who it is, if I know them or not or how close I am with either the male or the female. The idea of a man getting down on one knee and asking the love of his life to spend the rest of his life with a women is sort of sickening to me, although I’ve been told that when it happens to me I won’t feel so nauseated. I’m not so sure.

So what’s the deal? I’m not opposed to marriage, I’m certainly not opposed to sparkling engagement rings, but I hate the engagement process? Here’s what it boils down to-- over-the-top gestures (of any kind) disturbs me.

For example, big birthday celebrations. Going out to dinner is one thing. A week long fiesta full of bar hopping, spa treatments and pricey gifts? Way out of control. We were all born and we didn’t do so much to earn that celebration-- other than perhaps not fleeing a bar with a stranger in a foreign country or saying no to riding that dude’s motorcycle without a helmet in the pouring rain.

Take this idea a step further when a man decides to pay to have his “big question” sprawled across a big-screen at a Red Sox game. I don’t think it’s cute. I don’t think it’s sweet. And I definitely don’t wish it upon myself. It’s overdone, ridiculously dramatic and not something that most people want to see.

Regardless of my irrelevant opinion, people have and always done extreme things in the name of love. I mean, people tattoo their lover’s (lovers’?) names on their arms, so really how much more ridiculous is asking for someone’s hand in marriage while riding in a horse drawn carriage in Central Park?

I’ve always said that if I actually ever tricked some poor soul into proposing, I’d prefer that he just ask the question casually and not create a whole scene. My romanticized idea is that I’m scrubbing dishes as we talk and he’s like “Hey, wanna get married?” I say “sure” and then the sink overflows because I took my eyes off what I was doing to look into that little black box for a split second. (OK, I confess, even I am not that shallow.)

Well, folks, things just got weirder with how men propose. If you’re anything like me, you’ll find what I’m about to discuss even more disgusting. According to a new CNN article, Is chivalry dead? Technology twists the wedding proposal, not only are couples getting engaged in ways as sickening as ever, but they’re doing it publicly: via the internet. (See http://www.cnn.com/2010/LIVING/07/28/marriage.proposals/index.html).

The writer talks about men who have proposed through YouTube videos and even people who have done it by tweeting their question for god knows how many followers to see. Now, as I’ve already established, I’m not one for chivalry or romance, but really? Really?! You’re going to make your engagement not only public, but that impersonal?

Unless things have changed recently, I’ve always thought that marriage was between two people who love each other and want to stay exclusively with each other. I didn’t think that it was something that should involve your 857 Facebook friends, and certainly not the 35,000 people in the football stadium. Or maybe I’m just that uncool and bitter that I don’t have as many friends as the rest of the world. Who knows.

Point is, this new concept is weird. Even though we’re such a voyeuristic culture, some things are better left between the two people in a relationship and really shouldn’t be out there for the public to judge. (But, of course, your 35,000 stadium friends aren’t “the public,” they’re all people you care about, right?)

Believe me, I know that me posting this isn’t going to change even one thing in the way that any man proposes to his girlfriend in the future. But, for the sake of the rest of us, try to keep your proposal somewhat intimate and reasonable. I don’t think you really want to ask your girlfriend to marry you via a short and sweet Tweet-- only for her friends to respond to you on her behalf before she does.