when worlds collide

To continue Tuesday night’s conversation about exes (because who doesn’t want to talk more about their exes?), I want to mention a point that my heterosexual lifemate Carly brought up in her comments on Tuesday’s post – how to deal when past and present relationships collide.

In the whole universe of tricky issues involving exes, maintaining a relationship with an ex while currently dating someone else is one of the trickiest.  Obviously, having a bad relationship with an ex (accusations, name-calling, stalking, violence, relationship sabotage, etc.) adds a lot of stress to a current relationship, and can wreak so much havoc that one or both parties end up calling it quits.  But having a good relationship with an ex can be equally as stressful and unsettling, particularly for the current significant other.  After all, when there’s nothing but bad blood between your current significant other and his or her ex, you can feel pretty confident that the two of them won’t be ditching you and heading for Vegas any time soon.  However, when your girlfriend or boyfriend is on good terms with his or her ex, suddenly that threat seems a little more real.  The  reasons that people are drawn to maintaining relationships with their exes – the familiarity, the comfort, the shared interests and experiences that laid the foundation for the relationship in the first place – are the same factors that keep current significant others awake at night, obsessing over their relationship’s stability.  Let’s be honest – once the lines of communication are open between exes, it can be a slippery slope back into relationship mode.

So what is one to do when a significant other’s former flame comes a-calling?  Ultimately, I think, the fears that come from a significant other’s relationship with an ex are rooted in insecurity and lack of trust, so those are the first issues that must be addressed.  First of all, it’s all about having enough confidence in yourself to know that you are the one your signficant other wants, not his or her ex.  Instead of comparing yourself to your significant other’s ex and thinking of all the reasons why your significant other would prefer him or her over you, remind yourself of all the ways your better than that loser (you must actually BE better than that loser in order for this to be truly effective).  And secondly, like Billy Joel says, it’s a matter of trust.  If you trust your significant other’s devotion to you, there’s no reason why he or she can’t see anyone they choose, including an ex.  It’s also a matter of trusting that your ex remembers why the previous relationship ended, and knows that trying again would be in vain.  Obviously, you have use your judgement too – if you notice your partner spending more time with his or her ex than you, then, yes, perhaps it is time to start asking questions.

How do you deal with these sticky situations? Leave your tips in the comments!

the ex-factor

Ex-significant others.  Everybody’s got ‘em.  Some people have several.  Everybody who has one is one.  Yet, for such a universal experience, the business of exes is one that never seems to get less complicated.

I’m thinking about this now because one of this blog’s co-stars, Ang, was due to meet up tonight with her ex, with whom she parted ways back in October.  This was to be the first time they’ve seen each other since the night they broke up.

While I don’t have the details on the outcome of this powwow yet (although I’m sure I will soon enough), it got me thinking about the delicate nature of dealing with exes.  Unless you’re a hermit, you deal with a lot of people everyday – family, friends, co-workers, classmates, random strangers – but exes fall into a category all their own when it comes to communicating with them, due to the paradox surrounding them.  Almost inevitably, an ex is a person about whom you care very much and want in your life, yet, most likely for one reason or another, you want them to disappear in a cloud of steam and smoke like The Wicked Witch of the West.  Which means dealing with an ex requires all the delicacy and precision of a surgeon performing a quadruple bypass – one small slip, and irreversible damage can be done.

Allegedly, a group of people exists who can maintain solid, sincere friendships with their exes (and I mean long-term relationship exes, not people who dated but ultimately decided to remain friends).  I say allegedly because I don’t actually know any people who do this.  Maybe my friends and I are a bunch of cold, unforgiving harpies, but I can’t think of anyone who has maintained a close, functional friendship with one of his or her exes.  Which I can’t help but think is how it should be.

Perhaps my friends and I have only experienced extremely traumatic break-ups involving lots of harsh accusations, hurt feelings, and general anger, but when a break-up is that traumatic, it stands to reason that the only way to move forward is to make a clean break from that relationship, at least for an extended period of time.  From personal experience, trying to maintain a cordial, friendly relationship with an ex too soon after a break-up can only lead to more hurt feelings and heartache.  Sometimes that sort of friendly relationship is altogether impossible, no matter how much time has passed or how badly you want it.  Time may heal all wounds, but the scars and weak spots remain.

Over the weekend, while I was visiting my parents, the subject of my last ex-boyfriend, from whom I split last September, came up.

“Do you ever hear from him, or talk to him?” my dad asked.

I paused in the middle of hanging an ornament on our Christmas tree.  “No,” I said, a bit wistfully.  “It’s not like I don’t want to – I would like to know how he’s doing actually, but…I don’t want to rock the boat.  I know how upsetting that can be when an ex pops back up in your life.  I don’t want to do that to him, if he’s doing better without me.  When -if- he ever wants to get back in touch with me, he can.”

Is it the right thing to do?  How am I supposed to know?  I’m no surgeon – I just fumble around and hope for the best, like everyone else.

stand by your man?

Elin Nordegren Woods, take note: on Saturday, Time published this article about Jenny Sanford, the (soon-to-be ex-) wife  of (possibly-soon-to-be ex-) governor of South Carolina Mark Sanford, who, you may recall, disappeared for five days in June to do the forbidden tango with his Argentinian mistress, alienating a hell of a lot of people and earning himself a nomination for “Top Fail of 2009” in the process.

As I have stated in the past, I’m not really one for dissecting the complicated tangles of celebrities’ and politicians’ love lives – if someone is sleeping another person besides his or her spouse, I really don’t see how that is anybody’s business besides the cheater, the cheatee, and the person who is being cheated on.  However, of Jenny Sanford, I will say – You go, girl!

I don’t know about you, but between Hillary, Elizabeth Edwards, Silda Spitzer, et. al., I was getting pretty sick and tired of seeing wife after wife roll over and shimmy up to the podium to “show support” for her lying, cheating sack of scum husband as he apologized for his dalliances with interns, call girls and campaign aides.  It’s about time one of these wronged women had the cajones to say, “Umm…you know what, douchebag?  You’re on  your own for this one.”

I know, I know, who am I to judge how these women handle their personal affairs?  I’m sure they all had their own very sound reasons for choosing to stand by their man, instead of throwing him to the wolves.  Perhaps it was a woman’s, and, more to the point, a mother’s instinct to protect – presenting a united front not for the satisfaction of the salivating public and press, but for the comfort and security of her children.  Perhaps it was for political gain, either his or hers (*cough*Hillary*coughcough*).

Undoubtedly, the public’s reaction to these displays of devotion were not high on the priority list for these women, which is understandable – they had some more important things on their mind.  But the fact remains that by publicly supporting their husbands following indiscretions, these women sent a message to women all around the world – no matter how much inappropriate, immoral and just plain bad behavior they engage in, men still always come first.

But now, thankfully (or maybe I should say, hopefully), Jenny Sanford has blazed a new trail for wronged women everywhere, showing them that you can be graceful and dignified while essentially telling your husband, “Fuck you, you cheating piece of shit. And by the way, I’m leaving with half your shit.”

ass-kicking women

I never really got into the TV show “Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” but this mash-up, kindly sent to me by my co-worker, Jamie, who shares my unadulterated hatred of Twilight, kind of makes me wish I had watched “Buffy.”  Whether you’re a Twilight hater, a Buffy fan, or just need something to distract you on a Friday afternoon, you’ll enjoy this.  (I LOL’ed at about 3:59.)

As the creator’s description on YouTube states, this video is “a pro-feminist visual critique of Edward’s character and generally creepy behavior.  Seen through Buffy’s eyes, some of the more sexist gender roles and patriarchal Hollywood themes embedded in the Twilight saga are exposed…”  In other words, while Bella may be an awful human being, Edward Cullen’s no prize either.  He’s equally as co-dependent as Bella, unfailingly self-flagellating, protective to the point of possessiveness, a tad creepy, and, on top of it all…he’s boring. All of which Bella would probably realize if she had a bit more cajones, like, say, Buffy.

All of which made me think about strong female literary characters who could kick Bella Swan’s ass (figuratively and literally.)  I know a few weeks ago I gave you my list of male literary characters who are much more desirable than Edward Cullen, so I thought this would be a nice complement.

10. Elphaba (Wicked) – Sure, she’s awkward and prickly, not to mention a witch, but the heroine of Gregory Maguire’s re-telling of The Wizard of Oz is a perfect example of how a reader can empathize with a character they don’t necessarily like. Elphaba is still less of a wet noodle than Bella, even though she has more reason to be – she’s green, for Christ’s sake.
9. Jody (Bloodsucking Fiends, You Suck: A Love Story, A Dirty Job) – If you really want quality vampire shenanigans, look no further than Christopher Moore’s absurd take on the undead. Yes, Jody’s a vampire, and yes, she’s in love with mortal, but that doesn’t mean her and boyfriend Tommy spend all their time knitting scarves about their predicament. Added bonus: None of that Twilight Mormon-influenced abstinence shit. Moore gets right to the freaky vampire sex.
8. Jessica Darling (The Sloppy Firsts series) – The star of Megan McCafferty’s wonderful Sloppy Firsts series, Jessica is the Queen of Teen Angst Bella wishes she could be. Witty, cynical, sarcastic and neurotic, Jessica is just as insecure and hopelessly romantic as Bella, but survives high school, college and post-collegiate life with intelligence and humor, not by being turned into the undead.
7. Lauria Notaro (The Idiot Girl’s Action-Adventure Club, I Love Everybody and Other Atrocious Lies, etc.) – Ok, so Notaro is not quite a literary character, as she is an actual human being who honestly (and hilariously) reveals her wackiest, most embarrassing moments, much to the delight of all the “idiot girls” out there who ignore their cars’ funny noises, enjoy getting Stinkin’ Drunk, and can’t do the simplest thing without causing a scene.
6. Melanie Wilkes (Gone With the Wind) – Of the two leading ladies in Margaret Mitchell’s Civil War epic, Scarlett is the lightening bolt, burning hot and quick, while Melanie simmers slowly, continuing to grow on you long after the book is over. Sure, she may be a bit of a bleeding heart, and has a blind spot when it comes to her beloved husband Ashley, but it’s her quiet strength, infinite patience, and backbone of steel that make her, as Rhett Butler says, “a truly great lady.”
5. Vivi Walker and the Ya-Yas (Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood) – These are women who know a thing or two about not letting a man keep them down. Far from being as one-dimensional as Bella, these lifelong friends – Vivi, Caro, Necie and Teensy – are as layered as a good pecan pie and as spicy as Tabasco sauce.
4. The Harry Potter girls (The Harry Potter series) – If Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley knew Bella, they might not kick her ass, but they almost certainly would not be fans. These ladies, along with Tonks, Luna Lovegood and Prof. McGonagall, could teach Bella a thing or two about being independent, self-sufficient and tough, even while under love’s intense spell. Also, a special shout-out to Molly Weasley, who’s deft handling of Bellatrix Lestrange at the end of Book Seven earns her a special “Kick-Mom of the Year Award.”
3. Elizabeth Bennett (Pride and Prejudice) – No list of strong female literary characters would be complete without the original sassy sister herself. Sure, Elizabeth ends up falling in love with Mr. Darcy, but she does so while maintaining her characteristic wit and spark.
2. Bridget Jones (Bridget Jones’s Diary) – Bridget Jones is perhaps the best example of how to write an insecure, neurotic, boy-crazy female character without having her come off as whiny, annoying and co-dependent. Bridget Jones measures her thighs, sleeps with her boss, and chronicles every humiliating, cringe-inducing experience over the course of a year, but  instead of wanting to strangle her, we cheer for her. Stephanie Meyers can expect a copy in her mailbox for Christmas.
1. Scarlett O’Hara (Gone With the Wind)- Really, who else did you think would be number one on this list?

the benefits of benefits

Today’s post comes to us courtesy of my friend Julie, who sent me an article from the British web site The Register, about a University of Minnesota study that determined friends-with-benefits or casual sex relationships have no harmful psychological effects.  The findings were part of an ongoing study that assessed the behavior of 1,311 sexually active adults.  Of the participants, 12 percent said their last sexual encounter had been with a “close but not exclusive” partner, while 8 percent said their last encounter was with a casual acquaintance.  The study cautioned that, while casual sex relationships may not have harmful psychological consequences, it does not diminish the potential for negative physical impacts, and participants need to protect themselves accordingly.  (To read the full Register article, go here. To read the study’s results in plain English, go here.)

So…hooray!  We can bounce from bed to bed, sucking and screwing with whomever we want, with no negative repercussions, so long as we use condoms and birth control.  We’ll all be floating around on a cloud of sexually-fulfilled bliss!  Great success!  Right?  Well…maybe not.

Call me a cynic, but it’s going to take more than one study to convince me of the consequences of a behavior, especially since this particular study does not do much to qualify what constitutes  “harmful psychological outcomes.”  Does that mean feeling suicidal, or developing an emotional attachment to someone who’s only supposed to be your fuck buddy? There’s a big difference between the two, but they can both be considered harmful psychological outcomes, at least as far as I’m concerned.

Secondly, I don’t think we have enough data yet to prove one way or another if friends-with-benefits relationships are harmful or not.  Sure, maybe the twenty-somethings in this particular study are fine now, but check again in ten or twenty or thirty years, when these folks can’t have a serious committed relationship, and have issues with intimacy, trust and monogamy, and we’ll see what the damage is.  I may not have a Ph.D, but I don’t think you need one to see that, at least for some people, that is the road these casual relationships can lead us down.

The key to a successful friends-with-benefits relationship is a lack of intimacy, a detachment from emotions.  To make the relationship work, having sex has to be no more intimate than going to see a movie or having a beer together; one must put up a wall to keep platonic feelings from venturing into romantic territory.  Which is fine, for those who can do it (for those who can’t, there’s a whole host of other problems.)  But what about when one is ready to leave the world of friends-with-benefits behind for a committed, romantic relationship?  How does one go about disassembling that wall, and letting him or herself be vulnerable and intimate again?

The trouble with friends-with-benefits relationships, particularly for our generation, is that they add another tangle to the already twisted thread of sexuality we’ve been dealing with since we came out of the womb.  For human beings, as animals, our natural instinct is to have sex with whomever our hormones tell us is the strongest genetic mate, regardless of our emotions.  That instinct is born into us.  However, as we grow up, society tells us that sex and love and emotions are all tied up together, that sex is about much more than propagation of the species.  That concept is flipped on its head again when one finds him or herself in a friends-with-benefit situation, and it’s back to sex without love and emotion, sex for the sake of sex.  Any of these concepts are fine on their own, but it’s the back-and-forth, the push-and-pull that start to stretch the thread to its breaking point.  Emotions can’t be turned on and off like a faucet, and when one tries to do that, one risks losing all control, of living with a constant flood of emotions, or shutting down completely.

But sure, there’s no harm in that.

skanks and the city

DAHLINGS! I’m so sorry for neglecting you the past few days, but the rigors of grad school finals, a day job, and hijinks in Manhattan unfortunately diverted my attention from this blog.   But fear not, for my graduate work is complete for the semester, my work is under control, and those big-city hijinks have given me plenty to write about.

I spent this weekend in the company of the one-and-only Ang Brockman, as it was her “22nd” birthday (because only amateurs say it’s their 21st birthday every year).  Ang decided she wanted to do a girl’s night out in New York City this year, since Manhattan is only about an hour’s train ride from where she lives in New Jersey.  So we prettied ourselves up, bought our train tickets, and before long we were in the Big Apple.

We ended up in the Meatpacking District, at ONE, a nightclub one of Ang’s co-workers recommended, where we danced, drank, and witnessed firsthand why civilization is doomed.

Within the writhing, grinding, sweating mass of bodies and limbs on the dance floor, I came to the realization that, among the many things my generation has, self-respect is not one of them.  I found myself getting sick to my stomach, not from the booze, not from the heat of the room, but from the way the people, especially the women were behaving – the way they were dressed, the way they were dancing, the way they would grab at any member of the opposite sex like it was the last Wii on the shelf on Black Friday.

The thing is, I’m not a prude.  It’s not like I’ve never been in a club before, like I don’t know what happens inside those dark, close rooms packed with attractive, inebriated people.  I’ve spent time in bars and clubs and done my fair share of “dirty dancing.”  I know the days of needing to see daylight between bodies is long gone.  So I didn’t expect to feel so damn disgusted when, as soon as I hit the dance floor, a young man grabbed my arm and started trying to grind his junk up against me.

As I tried to politely extract myself from the situation, I wondered why anyone would think that was an appropriate thing to do.  But as the night wore on, and I continued trying to avoid the more lecherous advances of the club’s male population and observing the plethora of beautiful people surrounding me, I realized there was no reason for the guys to think this behavior was inappropriate, because every other female in the club was lapping it up.

From the girl in the barely-there black mini-dress with the silver-sequined tits to the girl making out with a guy as she straddled him on one of the club’s velvet couches, ONE seemed to be a hotspot for Manhattan’s trashiest hos.  But that wouldn’t even bother me so much – I’m a very live and let live kind of person – if I didn’t automatically get thrown into the trashy ho-pile with them.  After all, why should any of the guys in that club suspect that I am any less skanky than the dozens of girls bumping and grinding and generally acting like they’re auditioning for “Girls Gone Wild?”

The part that got under my skin the most was how unaware these girls were of how their behavior looked to an outside observer.  Perhaps that was the alcohol talking, but somehow I sensed this shamelessness is something that’s inherent in them, alcohol or no.  Which makes sense, I suppose.  I’m no psychologist, but I guess when you think nothing of yourself, it doesn’t much matter what anyone else thinks of you.  I think if I would have seen even a glimmer of irony or remorse in someone’s eyes, I would have felt some sort of redemption for these girls.  As it was, I just felt very, very disgusted and sad.  And like I needed a shower.

What’s a girl with a little self-esteem and self-respect to do? Ang and I pondered over $10 plates of scrambled eggs (ah, New York) at a diner after we left the club about 4 a.m.  Conventional wisdom tells us that we’re better off without guys who automatically go for the skanky hos on the dance floor.  We know that’s true.  However, we also know that, given the choice between a classy woman who demands respect and a drunk skank who’ll pretty much fuck you on the dance floor, we know which one a guy will pick.  I’m not trying to let men entirely off the hook here, and there are exceptions to the rule, but let’s face it – if something’s being given away for free, you’re going to take it.

Right or wrong, I hold the women responsible in this situation.  The change has to come from them.  Throw away the skimpy clothes, stop letting guys grab at you like a goddamn nacho platter, and demand some respect.  And maybe we can all manage to avoid the Apocalypse.  Or at least a few dozen cases of herpes.

declaration of independence

When, in the course of human events, one realizes that she or he has no romantic prospects, nor the prospect of any romantic prospects, it becomes necessary for one to remember the many benefits of being romantically unattached.  Hence, for all the single guys and gals out there who may need a little reminder of why flying solo ain’t always so bad, here is Miss Right Now’s list of The Best Things About Being Single:

- Guilt-free flirting.
- The remote is all yours – no fighting over whether you’ll watch the Lifetime bad-movie-marathon or 12 hours of football.
- You don’t have obligations to anyone but yourself, and can spend your time however you choose, whether it’s traveling, pursuing a new hobby, spending time with friends, or just curling up with a good book.
- If your period is late, at least you know you’re not knocked up.
- You have the opportunity to really get to know yourself, and the kind of partner you’re looking for.
- Sure, you might not have anyone to spoon with, but you also don’t have anyone hogging the covers, drooling on your pillow, or farting on your leg.
- Two words – bad choices.
- You can focus on furthering your career or education and not feel like a neglectful workaholic.
- Nobody is going to steal your food or your beer (although that might not be such a good thing…)
- You can keep looking until you find the match who is perfect for you.

What are your favorite things about being single? Leave them in the comments!

tasteless discretion is the name of the game

I apologize once again for the delay in posting, which was brought to you courtesy of my roommate Carly’s new Wii and Beatles Rock Band.  On the bright side, I had a high score of 88% on drums on “Come Together,” so my practice is starting to pay off.

Anyhow, let’s get down to brass tacks…I’m thinking about Tiger Woods this morning, mainly because, well, who isn’t thinking about Tiger Woods these days?  Also, there was some golf expert dude being interviewed on “Good Day Philadelphia” this morning as I was getting ready for work.  That confused me, because as far as I know, Woods’ only connection to Philadelphia is that in 2008 he was in talks to hold his AT&T National at the Aronmink Golf Club in Newtown Square.  Why then would a Philadelphia news show (well, news-ish) feel the need to host a guest to dissect his personal life?  Oh, that’s right, because we, the populace, like a pack of starved wolves, love nothing better than to sink our teeth into the tender flesh of a sacrificial lamb.

Okay, I understand that our societal constructs dictate that in exchange for his talent, wealth and celebrity status, Woods is required to relinquish a modicum of privacy.  I understand why celebrities like Woods cheat – for the same reasons anyone else does, combined with the added incentive of crazy-hot women throwing themselves at you, and a sense of entitlement that comes from people kissing your ass 24/7.  I understand why one of the general public’s favorite pasttimes is putting celebrities up on a pedestal, only to kick out the legs of the chair and see them tumble from grace.  It’s a little bit of jealousy, a little bit of schadenfreude; celebrities have it all – talent, looks, privilege, power, obscene amounts of money.  Frankly, the general population would commit mass suicide if we couldn’t find some aspect of their lives that was less-than-perfect.

What I don’t understand is why, whenever the story breaks that a celebrity has cheated on his or her spouse, everyone acts like that celebrity is the first person in the history of the world to commit such an unspeakable act, like he or she invented the concept of infidelity.

Um, sorry to kill your shiny, happy rainbows-and-unicorns buzz, everyone, but infidelity has been around just as long as monogamy and matrimony.  The numbers and attitudes towards infidelity vary depending on culture and time period, but rest assured, as long as people – and celebrities are people, too -  have been alive and breathing and have sexual and emotional desires, cheating has occurred.

The difference between affairs then and affairs now is a matter of a little thing called discretion – i.e., whereas people once did have discretion, they don’t anymore.  To be sure, there have been leaks or rumors of many affairs involving famous people over the years – JFK and Marilyn Monroe, Prince Edward of Wales and Wallis Simpson,  and Thomas Jefferson and Sally Hale come to mind – but the level of transparency was nothing like it is now.  For sure, Marilyn Monroe was not giving interviews to US Weekly or leaking voice messages from Jack Kennedy to the press.  Maybe it was because he could have had her whacked by the mob for going public about their affair, or maybe it was because she had a little bit of class and dignity, and didn’t want any more of her personal life splashed across the pages of newspapers and magazines.

But the Clinton-Lewinsky sex scandal of the late 90s sounded the death knell for that kind of discretion, and the advent of the Internet and 24/7 media coverage, combined with a cultural attitude that anyone can be a celebrity, even for something as insignificant and private as having sex with someone, has officially declared discretion DOA.  R.I.P.

In a way, I feel bad for Woods and his family.  Not that he cheated, because it was a poor choice, and not that he got caught, because when you make poor choices, they catch up with you eventually, but that this extremely private, personal matter has to be played out on a national stage, for an audience of people who once exalted him.  Yes, he fucked up, and yes, he has to pay the consequences, but to his wife and family, the ones he wronged.  Shame on him, but shame on us, too, for creating the demand for the drama that he and other celebs supply.   I know in today’s world of Twitter and Facebook statuses and YouTube videos and personal blogs (natch), nothing is sacred and even more so, nothing is private, but it might be worth reminding ourselves that some aspects of our lives can, and should, be private.  After all, how would you like to have your personal life dissected on live television?

Yeah, that’s what I thought.

the “gud,” the bad and the ugly

I know in my last post I expressed some skepticism about Mike Scatton’s plan to find me a kind-heart, church-going, God-fearing young man, but as each day goes by, the option gets more and more attractive.

Consider this: those of you out there who use Facebook (i.e. everyone) may have on ocassion seen advertisements for the Zoosk application.  I know I have, although I never gave it much thought, mainly because it’s a nonsense made-up word, and I don’t like made-up words, unless I am the one making them up.

At any rate, this application rose to my conciousness again a few weeks ago when I came across datingsitesreviews.com while doing research for a class project.  Lo and behold, there was Zoosk, and the mystery was solved – in its attempt to control everything in our lives, Facebook has a dating application.

By now you’ve probably figured out where this is going.  Considering that it doesn’t cost anything to sign up for Zoosk, and I’m willing to do just about anything for the sake of a good blog post, I decided to throw up a profile on Zoosk and see what happens.  Mind you, I only entered the most basic information – my age, height, relationship status, ethnicity, education background, location, etc.  (I wasn’t that committed to this experiment.) Actually, I figured I could go back later and add all of the key information that will help me find a soulmate, such as my ideal first date and the movies I “<3.” Until then, I assumed I wouldn’t get much of a response.

Oh, how wrong I was.  Apparently, for some men, being a 5′2″ Aquarius with a bachelor’s degree who smokes and drinks socially is enough to convince some men that you’re worth talking to.  When I finally checked my account today, my profile had been viewed 112 times, and I had received e-mails from 13 guys.

I guess I should be flattered that my basic stats alone are enough to make me attractive to the opposite sex, but as anyone who knows me is well aware, I value substance over style.  For a guy to win me over, he was to like me because he truly appreciates my good qualities, and can put up with my bad ones, not because I’m a warm body.  So already I am not feeling too confident about this batch of suitors.  But I persevered, and looked through every one’s profile, and I’m genuinely glad I did – because honestly, I couldn’t make this shit up.

Here now is a sampling of my gentleman callers, courtesy of Zoosk:

• Bilal, Upper Darby – Favorite Music: “Any gud (sic) music”
• Cast, Woodbury Heights – Story: “born in philly lived there till i was ten then moved to jersey love to party i drink and smoke i have 4 brothers and 2 sisters lol i am easy to get along with aslong as ur cool, i love da eagles and da phillies”
• Reeq, Philadelphia – A 20-year-old with a graduate degree. (I told you I couldn’t make this shit up.)
• KingNothingDude, Chester – Story: “layed backchilled a very simple guy at thet defently…… down to earth guy….shy but not with people im confortable with and open up quick……thinks with his hear(warm hearted), sweet loveing careing, if let be that…..sarcastic at times, funny loves to laugh but not s jokster or prsnkster but can be silly,…
  young at heart who loves music!!! sum times to rock sum times for emotion depends on mood……feel free to hit me up sum time ok have a good one on me ask me anything and say anything u want i am single and looking for friends maby more give a missunderstood sweet guy a chance u never know ok peace to all.”
• Edwin, Morrisville – Remember William Hung? Yeah, picture that…

You may think it’s mean-spirited of me to point out these men and their short-comings to the world, and maybe it is.  I’m willing to take the karmic ass-kicking though, because it’s worth it to share the joy of laughter with you all.  After all, as Chris Griffin said, “If I didn’t learn to laugh at myself, I’d be dead now.”

More to come from the Great Zoosk Experiment.  I’m going to add some more information to my profile, and see if I can’t attract some guys who can actually spell.  To be continued…

god help me

Hello again! I hope you all enjoyed your turkey and pumpkin pie and Black Friday shopping and Thanksgiving Eve bar-hopping.  I spent a relaxing weekend with my family up in NEPA, chasing around my nephew, doing all my Christmas shopping on Amazon, and generally avoiding leaving my house or doing work, so now I’m all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to get back to work – oh, who I am kidding?  I’m tired and unmotivated as usual, and eagerly anticipating my next vacation.

You may think that a weekend spent hunkered down in my house with my family would leave me with no new material for this blog, but you would be mistaken.  On Thursday night, thanks to the incredible tongue-loosening powers of wine and tryptophan, my parents and I had a deep, heart-to-heart conversation about relationships in general and the state of my love life in particular.

If I had to make a list of the main bullet points of the conversation, it would look something like this:

• Dating in 2009 is nothing like dating in the 1970s, therefore rendering my parents well-intended advice useless.
• The Sexual Revolution fucked us all, figuratively speaking.
• According to my fahter, if I want to meet a mature, decent guy, I have to go to church.

Now, anyone who knows me knows that, while I respect others’ religious views and right to practice and worship as much or as little as they choose, I am not really the church-going type.  I could write a whole other blog about my issues with organized religion, but suffice it to say that, while I believe in a higher power and an afterlife, that’s about as far as my relationship with religion goes.

That being said, as for my father’s assertion…I’m actually kind of thinking about it.  Not necessarily the specific application, but the theory behind my father’s suggestion.

“There’s a certain type of guy you meet in bars, and they’re only looking for one thing, which I’m sure you know by now,” my dad said. “The guys you meet in bars are just looking to have fun, they’re not looking for someone they can get to know and maybe be serious about.  You want the kind of guy who is mature, who has his life together, and is looking for something with a little more substance. And those are the kind of guys you find in church or doing volunteer work.”

After I swallowed down a comment about how that’s also where you find guys who think evolution is a liberal conspiracy and who don’t believe in pre-marital sex, it occurred to me that he might actually have a point. After all, I’ve been going to bars for nearly four years, with disappointingly little success in the relationship department. Online dating didn’t work out much better. So maybe it is time to try a different path.

Since I would feel a little hypocritical rolling into a church (all those issues with organized religion, you know), I think my dad’s suggestion about volunteering might be a feasible avenue.

“You pick a cause or an organization that you’re passionate about, and you go spend some time helping them out, and you’ll meet people – and guys – who have similar interests to you,” Dad said.  “The bottom line is, do what you enjoy, and meet people through that, rather than trying to meet people and then figure out if you have similar interests.”

Wise words from a wise man. It’s something worth looking into. After all, it can’t hurt to have God on my side – as a single lady in today’s world, I need all the help I can get.