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.

Just Friends-- After Meeting on a Dating Site?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, he answered.

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

Negative. She wasn't and isn't.

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

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

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

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

His response?

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

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

Being grateful for what you have.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

From Coffee Dates to Booty Calls: Unacceptable Dating Trends

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

Used to Being Used

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His Mommy Wrote His Personal Ad... And Now We're Dating.

When I was a senior in high school and had just been accepted to college, my grandmother’s cousin happened to be speaking at an event hosted by my soon-to-be school.

“It’s a great honor to be speaking here today,” he started, “and extremely special to me personally. My cousin’s granddaughter just got into B* University this past week, so being here speaking and supporting this school means a great deal to me.”

Innocent statement enough, right?

Wrong.

Immediately after his speech to alumni, friends and family of the university, an elderly lady approached him. She wasn’t about to compliment his articulate speaking or explain how proud she was that he supported the same cause she did. She introduced herself so she could set me up with her grandson-- a boy who apparently was also accepted at my school.

Yes, she wanted to set him up with me. Me being the girl who was in Connecticut at the time, the event being in Florida, she of course hadn’t ever seen me. For all she knew I had tons of moles and two lazy eyes. Maybe she decided that I was of comparable intelligence to her grandson because we were to attend the same school, or maybe my cousin made an impression good enough to pique her interest in his family members.

So even though this lady immediately whipped out her grandson’s phone number and photo, I never actually met him. Or maybe I did and didn’t know it. To this day I have no idea who the boy was, although I do know he entered my school the year I did, was tall, dark and handsome (of course) and that he was from New York. My cousin fortunately lost this boy’s contact information, something that he and I are probably both grateful for.

So why, now, many years later, am I reflecting on an event where I wasn’t present, one that never really impacted my life in any way whatsoever?

Well, to be quite honest, that was the fist thing that popped into my head when I read Moms Post on “Date My Single Kid,” a CNN article about a new website where mothers can post personal ads on behalf of their children. (See http://www.cnn.com/2010/LIVING/07/19/matchmaker.parent.date.my.kid/index.html.)

The article profiles some sad soul named Colby Brin, age 31, who routinely allows his mother to set him up on dates. In fact, he estimates that his mother has set him up on over thirty dates. And he wonders why none of them have amounted to anything. Every girl dreams of her matchmaker being her future mother-in-law! Nothing like her meddling in your relationship from the very beginning.

Towards the end of the article, the author states that Brin insists that “if a relationship becomes serious...‘his girlfriend won't have to fret.’ He says his mother tends to be more hands-off with his love life once he is in a committed relationship.”

And he expects us readers to believe that? That his mother is coordinating his dating life, but-- don’t worry-- once he becomes a thing with some naive lady mom will step out of the picture? And what about later, when there are kids? Not to worry, she certainly won’t attempt to control the way her grandchildren are raised. It’s not like she cared at all who their mother was. And, after all, she knows her son better than he knows himself, and she certainly know's who the best choice for a girlfriend (read: ultimately his wife) is.

Honestly, I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t want to ever consider going on a date with a man whose mommy put him on the site. Besides the whole control issue at hand, why would I want to date someone who doesn’t have the guts to self-promote on his own behalf?

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love moms and on occasion love their sons. But really, I don’t want to love those moms until I'm deeply involved with their sons. One lady calling and nagging me to pick up the phone and call my relatives is enough, thank you. I already have one mom and I certainly don’t need another.

XOXO,
R.

Sex Addiction: A Mental Health Issue or an Excuse to Cheat?

A few weeks ago I spent a couple days with close family friends. Over dinner one night, the conversation somehow drifted to sex addiction: Is it a real addiction? Is it as serious as, say, alcohol, drug or even gambling addictions? And does it really deserve a spot in the next edition of the DSM?

Unfortunately I can't report back that we came up with any conclusions. We left the table unclear as to whether Tiger Woods has a psychological problem or just a love of intimacy, whether Jesse James should seek medical help or if he really just wanted to explore his sexuality beyond his marriage.

That said, this concept has become prevalent in the media. It seems like every few weeks we hear of another unfaithful boyfriend or husband (yes, the news seems to focus more on the male cheaters.) Maybe Americans like this drama or take pleasure in the doom of celebrity marriages. Perhaps our own social lives are so boring that we find ourselves thirsty to know the gossip of even people we don't know personally. For some, other people's failures (specifically relating to infidelity in this instance) validate their own life choices.

What we don't hear about, though, is what actually "transforms" these cheating men into born-again innocent husbands. We know, for example that Tiger Woods was sent to sex addiction rehab in Alabama or Arkansas or one of those southern places where he wouldn't be able to sleep with anyone anyway because he's not their blood relative. But what really went on there? What was his treatment like and why is he suddenly on his road to recovery?

When I posed this question to one of my (male) roommates, he came up with a clever idea. Maybe, he explained, you go to the rehab, and they let you sleep with, say, ten different people on your first day there. Then you get to the second day and, WHAM, just like that, you're only allowed to sleep with nine different people that they find for you. The number really could keep gradually decreasing until you're healed of your endless sexual appetite!

I'll admit that I was laughing hysterically when he explained his idealistic views of rehab. However, I understand that this can be construed as highly offensive, especially for the people who battle what some consider a legitimate mental illness.

I think the real answer here is that it's important that we teach our kids to get on the right path from the start. It should be made explicitly clear that just like in sports or Monopoly cheating isn't allowed, it's not in the adult world by any means either. Grown ups don't lose TV or dessert privlidges when they cheat on their significant others, but there are consequences to this behavior, and dire ones for that matter.

We need to remember that kids are smarter than we think and capable of conceptualizing more difficult ideas than we realize. For that reason, if monogamy is taught early, maybe it won't be as much of an issue later on in life when they become the next American presidents. That was something that I briefly considered when I was teaching The Ten Commandments to a class of thirteen eight year olds this year. (Yes, I teach religious school each week and I happen to love it as a means to earn extra money!)

As I printed each commandment on the board for the children to copy, I got towards the end and stared in disbelief. Adultery. Adultery. ADULTERY. Why hadn't I thought about this earlier? How com I hadn't considered the fact that I'd have to explain this concept to a group of young kids right on the spot? I mean I know that I read their textbook pages for the first time the morning that they do, but really, how could I have been so idiotic?

Out of nowhere, it hit me: I knew how to explain it.

"What do you think it means when God said that you shall not commit adultery?" I asked.

One girl sheepishly raised her hand. I called on her and she explained that she was "pretty sure" that it meant that you "shouldn't act like an adult."

"Hmm...not quite, sweetie, but close" I responded. "Really, you guys, what it means is that if you are a girl, and you're married, you aren't allowed to have any other boyfriends besides your husband. And if you're a married boy, you aren't allowed to have any other girlfriends besides your wife."

Somehow, with that explanation they got it. Even when I asked them weeks later what adultery meant, they all precisely regurgitated my definition.

So if these kids can get it, why can't their role models? Why are the celebrities and athletes that they look up to given what I'd consider a "free pass," or the excuse that it's a mental illness? Clearly I don't have any answers and it's likely easier for kids to understand this idea conceptually rather than in practice later on in life.

When considering this regarding those men who cheat on their girlfriends and wives, I often flash back to what Rachel Green on Friends. "Once a cheater, always a cheater," she squawked in a bird-like voice.

Always definitively true? Maybe not. Worth considering when thinking about people who do it? Absolutely.



XOXO,
R.

Let's Give the Male Race a Little Credit

"Did you see B waddling around math class today?" A asked.

"Yeah, what was that all about?" J questioned back.

"She had just come back from the bathroom and her tampon hurt her so she couldn't walk!" A shot back with a monstrous chuckle.

We had all just piled into the back of the big yellow school bus, us being the cool eighth graders that we were. After a long day of passing notes and trading stickers we purchased at Abercrombie, it was time for a gab session on the way home.

It definitely crossed my mind that A and J were B's best friends. Weird that they'd be making such snide remarks behind her back, right?

Wrong. This was just Introduction to Girl World 101. Little did I know I was bound for this class on not only the AP level, but the college and even graduate levels as well.

By the end of high school, I was sure I'd seen it all. I'd watched best friends backstab just to beat each other with better marks in school. I had witnessed girls lie about weekend plans just to oust another from their in-group. Countless times I observed girls insult their best friends' intelligences and looks. But it only continued-- as I learned to distance myself more and more.

As I grew increasingly close in college to two girls that we used to call "the twins," I realized just how far girls are willing to go to make themselves feel better about their own identities and beings. This pair was inseparable-- from making out with their boyfriends on separate beds in the same room to insisting that they showered in stalls next to each other at the same time, there was no breaking them. They liked all the same foods and despised all the same people-- their was no distinguishing their preferences.

Soon one of the twins started to leak a rumor about the other. And not just about the girl herself-- but about the girl's experiences with her new boyfriend. The first girl apparently had attempted to do something sexually that she had never done before and um, let's just say, it wasn't successful judging by the boyfriend's physiological reaction.

The story made it all the way to a different state and back again, thanks to some mutual home friends between two of the friends. One twin's business of sexual incompetence had left the inner circle and traveled miles and miles, only to haunt her for years. Yet they still remained twins, because no one can break the bonds of sisterhood of course.

So, you might be wondering what my point is here. Yes, girls are cruel, we all know this. It isn’t exactly news or shocking. And I don’t mean it just in the sense of friendships—it transcends all social situations, from peer relationships at school to romances.

My point is to make it clear that I know girls are awful, and I know that sometimes we might make it seem here like we hate men. But really, as much as we might complain, it’s important to remember that it’s really us girls that are the crazy and manipulative ones—not the men. Even though we females put up with a lot from men, we give them a harder time and our behavior is oftentimes a lot more outrageous. Maybe we owe them some credit after all.

XOXO,
R.

Significant Strangers

A few years ago the NYTimes ran an article about a group of commuters from Long Island. They had all been riding the same trains together roundtrip daily for over a decade, more or less because of similar work schedules and because they lived in close proximity of one another.

Every Friday afternoon on their trip home they'd celebrate. Celebrate making it through another week in their meaningless jobs, rejoice in the fact that they had dealt with their boss's vicious comments and outrageous demands for another five days. One girl would bring a bottle of wine, another would bring fresh bread from the hot baker she'd flirt with as she passed his store window daily. One of the business men assigned himself the weekly duty of picking up gourmet cheese, and his buddy would usually grab a six pack from the package store outside his office building.

But what was so unique about this gathering? None of them knew each other outside of their daily commutes-- they had all met after seeing each other regularly. Maybe they realized they were sitting next to the same people each morning or afternoon, or perhaps someone haphazardly spilled coffee on another person one day, prompting apologies and ultimately leading to a conversation. Who knows. The trajectory of events doesn't matter so much. They made friends with the people around them-- people who in the end they probably spent more time with each day than their own families.

I think about this sitation when I notice myself eye-raping that gorgeous man with the ultra-short brown hair on my subway ride each morning. Being the sicko that I can be, I've picked up on the fact that he gets on somewhere between three or four stops after me. I also know that he hops off the train one stop after me. I mean he must-- that's the train's final destination. Today though I got my hopes up and thought maybe, just maybe, he was getting off at my stop and I could happen to "bump into" him on my way above ground. Really he just stepped off to let a flood of people exit without having to maneuver around him. And that just made him that much more dreamy-- a guy with manners!

Now I'm not trying to imply a connection between the first part of this story and this man that I'm going to marry in about six years. (Yea, we're getting married and having three kids. Obviously.) Not at all. But what I am trying to say is how I'm starting to realize that these seemingly meaningless people that we see regularly maybe do mean something.

Take for example that disgusting couple who commutes together every single morning. They always wind up in my car. They're not disgusting because they're ugly or forgot to shower-- they're actually so lovey-dovey they probably already took two showers together this morning. Who knows, maybe it's out of some deeply repressed form of jealousy that I end up despising them, cringing at the very first sight of them at 7:43 each morning. Without without fail though, when I'm BBMing with S, she gets an abrupt message from me-- right in the middle of our morning conversation involving me coaxing her out of bed all the way from a million miles away-- that says "UGH, that gross commuting couple is here AGAIN."

Realistically, do I ever expect to approach Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome? Of course not. And am I ever going to tell that couple, the girl with her cutesy winter hats, the man with his rugged North Face backpack and scruffy facial hair, that on the surface I find them repulsive but I'm really hoping for happiness as simple one day in MY life? Again, of course not.

The story of the New York commuters represents a rarity-- something nice developing after years of potential misery on the Long Island Rail Road. The people I see daily-- well, they're not going to become my drinking buddies for 5pm on Friday nights anytime soon, but as weird as it is, after months these complete strangers have become fixtures in my morning routine.

Carrie Bradshaw once said that "It's romantic when someone offers me a seat on the subway." So for now it's important to notice the simple little gestures and then maybe in the future, if GOD FORBID I'm still doing this daily ten years down the line, the couple will do that couple-y thing, move to the suburbs and a new revolting pair will replace them. And I can do more than just intensely stare at my piece of eye candy. Hey, a girl can dream, right?



XOXO,
R.