You Ended It, Now YOU Move On.

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

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

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

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

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

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

From Coffee Dates to Booty Calls: Unacceptable Dating Trends

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

Love vs. In Love

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

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

Absolutely not.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rude and at Work

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Returning to High School After College

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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