Somedays I wish a soundtrack accompanied my daily movements. Ok, I lied…I wish that were every day. For instance, the other day I received multiple messages that were somewhat earth shattering to my daily bubble of obliviousness that I live in. When each of these messages came to me, I was listening to my ipod. Therefore, you’d think I was golden having music playing in my ears while receiving the details, yet I couldn’t help but think how inappropriate the Kanye West song I was listening to was.
So, I wish it were like the movies. You’re walking around, enjoying your lovely winter day and a message comes through from that what you thought was an awesome date the other night and the words “Let’s just be friends” comes out of their mouth. Listening to the mindnumbing bass of N.E.R.D and the lyric “All the girls standing in the line for the bathroom…” just wasn’t what you wanted to hear in your ear at that moment. Instead, why can’t some melodramatic mushy heartbroken song magically manifest? My life would make so much more sense if I had musical undertones blaring my feelings.
What if…someone created (ahem I mean me), a wonderful device that tapped into the neurons of your brain that dictated your feelings and connected them to your ipod. Then when you were feeling sad, a sad song would come on, or when you were happy an upbeat song played, if you were feeling dirty, a dirty song would play, etc. It’s like a mood ring for you ipod. GENIUS! If you steal this idea, Mr. Fancy Engineer of Complex Things Beyond my Intellectual Capabilities, I will sue your ass.
Even better, what if you could break up or explain people your feelings by touching your ipod and having a song play. SUPER GENIUS! I had an ex do that to me once. He said “Listen to Donnell Jones’ ‘Where I Wanna Be’ and it will clearly explain my feelings”. However, maybe it wasn’t quite the appropriate song for him to choose…oh well that’s another story.
Either way, music tends to make my world go round. It comforts, it soothes, it reinforces and excites my everyday movement. I think the taste of music someone has says a lot about that person, which is why I refuse to date someone who loves country music. Sorry, there’s just something about that genre of music that makes me cringe. And I’m sure if my mom reads this she will once again say that it only further proves her theory that I’m racist against white people.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Monday, December 29, 2008
Oh Epictetus...How Wrong You Were
When I was in college, I always loved my philosophy classes. Besides making me feel like I was having superior intellectual conversations with some of the brightest (or highest) minds on campus, learning philosophy helped me make sense of me. The storytelling of ancient Greek philosophers was extraordinary and yet simplistic all in one. Not like these crazy new philosophers like Nietzsche that when you read their works you feel like you just had an aneurysm. One of my favorites was this philosopher called Epictetus. He wrote this very amazing book called “The Art of Living”. Basically, Epictetus is what you would consider a stoic. Stoicism always intrigued me, mainly because I thought my grandmother and father were some of the best modern day examples of stoicism in my life. Overall, I should probably account my lack of emotional flailing to the stoic nature of the heads of my family.
So now I’m sure you’re asking yourself two questions. 1) She was really a philosophy buff in college?! And 2) How can this girl call herself stoic when I witness her emotional vulgarities on a daily basis? The answer to the first question is yes, I was a philosophy minor and the second question, well I’m getting to that.
Since I am a walking dichotomy of myself, most people know that I work in fairly polar opposites of my life. Most things run black and white, and rarely ever the nice shades of grey in between. Therefore, I can be emotional and stoic all in one. Convoluted? Yes. True? Absolutely. I’m sure Epictetus and his philosophy posse is rolling in their ancient Greek graves at my notion of Emotional Stoicism, otherwise known as the Kassandra Complex. (Those are technical terms by the way…I expect to see those in the next edition of the DSM).
So the Kassandra Complex works a little like this. Over the course of time you start hanging out with someone, and being the nice stoic individual that you are, you take things slow. Which if you know me, you know that relationships are about the only thing in life I take slowly, everything else is full steam ahead. Then things start lurking in those deep muddy waters called “What is This? Land”. Is it a relationship? Is it a bootycall? Is it a friend making a nice gesture? Am I being pitied for my lack male companionship? Tread quickly grasshopper…this is quicksand after all. So this is where the emotional part sets in. However, being a stoic and inevitably having the Kassandra Complex, you never let those emotions surface. Instead, they run around like two year old children hyped up on sugar through my head. Then after the two year olds lay down for naps after the sugar crash, the nagging voice of my mother shoots in with her two cents. This is about the time my stoic ass goes to the gym. Ahhhh repression…release.
So, after battling the demons in my head, then comes the stoic silence. The stoic silence is very much unlike a Pinter moment in that it really has little to do with the dramatic pause of silence, but more so a silence of the voice simply because my emotional head won’t shut up. Those who have witnessed the Kassandra Complex will note some key characteristics of this stage. The first is melodrama. This is when all of the “woe is me” damsel in distress half assedly fishing for sympathy remarks vomit out of my mouth. But, instead of ever clearly distinguishing what is wrong, I force myself to speak in super deep philosophical metaphors like “It is what is is.” Next, comes what I call “talking about never talking about it.” This is when those few poor souls who inquire what sort of madness is going on and I respond with the very Hollywood-ish “No Comment”. The final step is the private meltdown where the airs of stoicism collapse and you are sitting on your couch with a bottle of wine, a half eaten box of Papa John’s cheesesticks and watching a Tyler Perry movie crying your eyes out at the overly moral religious undertones that always seems to appear in his movies much like God himself yelling fire and brimstone at us sinners. Ok, maybe I should leave God out of this mess.
So now, this obviously is the point where I’m sure all sorts of mass confusion has set in for the party in question. When viewing someone with the Kassandra Complex they are hardly sure if up is up or if up is down. (In my world, it’s both by the way…get used to it). So, either this person is a brave soldier and says “Man up buddy, I’m in this for the long haul! We’re gonna slay this dragon with ninja-strength force and plow down those stoic walls and rescue our damsel in emotional internal distress!” or this is when they run screaming for the hills. More often than not it’s the latter. And if they don’t choose the latter, I usually push them to the latter after months of painful chipping away.
The very unfortunate part of the Kassandra Complex is that I tend to do this to really great guys. I mean guys that bend over backwards for you. Guys that bring you care kits when you are sick. Guys that drive 40 minutes out of their way just to watch a stupid movie on your couch and guys who drink themselves silly at your birthday party because they are upset that you went with a complete douche bag as your date. Those are the guys I tend to hurt. But, it’s not that I don’t know and understand what amazing guys they are. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. It’s the mere fact that I do understand they are amazing, witty, caring, intelligent guys that makes me push them away. Why you ask? Because deep down I know I don’t deserve that right now.
I don’t deserve the kisses, the hugs, the intimacy. I don’t deserve the intellectual conversations, the caring deeds and the unconditional love. At least right now I don’t. I’m not deserving of all of that just yet. The reason being is that I need to be the one showing myself with love, that agape type of love that is selfless and unyielding. To be that loving person to another, I need to learn to love me better. I’m trying, trust me I am. Because it pains me to no end to see good guy, after good guy slip on by to a woman who has made herself deserving. Each time it happens I take a pause for myself to let myself know that someday, hopefully someday soon that will be mine as well. And that the heartache I have from letting the good ones go by just reassures me that at least I was selfless enough to let them go before I could give them all of my heart.
Therefore, will pain is unfortunately imminent for those with the Kassandra Complex, it unfortunately was my namesake destiny. My parents must have been modern day Nostradamuses. Apparently my name means “entangler of men”. Apollo, one of the greatest Greek characters once loved me, but since I shunned him, with my Kassandra Complex, I was cursed. The curse being that though I had the gift of prophecy, that my prophecies would never be taken seriously. This must be why I blog.
So now I’m sure you’re asking yourself two questions. 1) She was really a philosophy buff in college?! And 2) How can this girl call herself stoic when I witness her emotional vulgarities on a daily basis? The answer to the first question is yes, I was a philosophy minor and the second question, well I’m getting to that.
Since I am a walking dichotomy of myself, most people know that I work in fairly polar opposites of my life. Most things run black and white, and rarely ever the nice shades of grey in between. Therefore, I can be emotional and stoic all in one. Convoluted? Yes. True? Absolutely. I’m sure Epictetus and his philosophy posse is rolling in their ancient Greek graves at my notion of Emotional Stoicism, otherwise known as the Kassandra Complex. (Those are technical terms by the way…I expect to see those in the next edition of the DSM).
So the Kassandra Complex works a little like this. Over the course of time you start hanging out with someone, and being the nice stoic individual that you are, you take things slow. Which if you know me, you know that relationships are about the only thing in life I take slowly, everything else is full steam ahead. Then things start lurking in those deep muddy waters called “What is This? Land”. Is it a relationship? Is it a bootycall? Is it a friend making a nice gesture? Am I being pitied for my lack male companionship? Tread quickly grasshopper…this is quicksand after all. So this is where the emotional part sets in. However, being a stoic and inevitably having the Kassandra Complex, you never let those emotions surface. Instead, they run around like two year old children hyped up on sugar through my head. Then after the two year olds lay down for naps after the sugar crash, the nagging voice of my mother shoots in with her two cents. This is about the time my stoic ass goes to the gym. Ahhhh repression…release.
So, after battling the demons in my head, then comes the stoic silence. The stoic silence is very much unlike a Pinter moment in that it really has little to do with the dramatic pause of silence, but more so a silence of the voice simply because my emotional head won’t shut up. Those who have witnessed the Kassandra Complex will note some key characteristics of this stage. The first is melodrama. This is when all of the “woe is me” damsel in distress half assedly fishing for sympathy remarks vomit out of my mouth. But, instead of ever clearly distinguishing what is wrong, I force myself to speak in super deep philosophical metaphors like “It is what is is.” Next, comes what I call “talking about never talking about it.” This is when those few poor souls who inquire what sort of madness is going on and I respond with the very Hollywood-ish “No Comment”. The final step is the private meltdown where the airs of stoicism collapse and you are sitting on your couch with a bottle of wine, a half eaten box of Papa John’s cheesesticks and watching a Tyler Perry movie crying your eyes out at the overly moral religious undertones that always seems to appear in his movies much like God himself yelling fire and brimstone at us sinners. Ok, maybe I should leave God out of this mess.
So now, this obviously is the point where I’m sure all sorts of mass confusion has set in for the party in question. When viewing someone with the Kassandra Complex they are hardly sure if up is up or if up is down. (In my world, it’s both by the way…get used to it). So, either this person is a brave soldier and says “Man up buddy, I’m in this for the long haul! We’re gonna slay this dragon with ninja-strength force and plow down those stoic walls and rescue our damsel in emotional internal distress!” or this is when they run screaming for the hills. More often than not it’s the latter. And if they don’t choose the latter, I usually push them to the latter after months of painful chipping away.
The very unfortunate part of the Kassandra Complex is that I tend to do this to really great guys. I mean guys that bend over backwards for you. Guys that bring you care kits when you are sick. Guys that drive 40 minutes out of their way just to watch a stupid movie on your couch and guys who drink themselves silly at your birthday party because they are upset that you went with a complete douche bag as your date. Those are the guys I tend to hurt. But, it’s not that I don’t know and understand what amazing guys they are. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. It’s the mere fact that I do understand they are amazing, witty, caring, intelligent guys that makes me push them away. Why you ask? Because deep down I know I don’t deserve that right now.
I don’t deserve the kisses, the hugs, the intimacy. I don’t deserve the intellectual conversations, the caring deeds and the unconditional love. At least right now I don’t. I’m not deserving of all of that just yet. The reason being is that I need to be the one showing myself with love, that agape type of love that is selfless and unyielding. To be that loving person to another, I need to learn to love me better. I’m trying, trust me I am. Because it pains me to no end to see good guy, after good guy slip on by to a woman who has made herself deserving. Each time it happens I take a pause for myself to let myself know that someday, hopefully someday soon that will be mine as well. And that the heartache I have from letting the good ones go by just reassures me that at least I was selfless enough to let them go before I could give them all of my heart.
Therefore, will pain is unfortunately imminent for those with the Kassandra Complex, it unfortunately was my namesake destiny. My parents must have been modern day Nostradamuses. Apparently my name means “entangler of men”. Apollo, one of the greatest Greek characters once loved me, but since I shunned him, with my Kassandra Complex, I was cursed. The curse being that though I had the gift of prophecy, that my prophecies would never be taken seriously. This must be why I blog.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Bromances, Homances and Other Reasons Why You Aren't In a Relationship
So, from the creators of Laguna Beach, The Hills and other awful shows that prove that white kids have the intelligence of a third grader...comes Bromance. Now I don't know about you, but the fact that Brody Jenner is willing to sit there and say, "Hey I want a new BFF!" is borderline...well, you know where that's going. Like the kid needs the extra money right?
Anyways, so I was talking to one of my friends about his "bromance". Ok, now I completely get the idea that everyone has friends, and everyone has close friends. We all have that go-to person for everything in our life that knows us inside and out and can console us even before we need consoling. (Guys, this would be that dude that brings you beer when you sound sad. Girls, it's your friend that brings over ice cream.) But what happens when you have that one friendship that's just a little "too" close. You know what I mean. Ladies, it's that guy who lives with your potential future husband and who you would seriously think is his hetero-life mate if it weren't for the amazing sex you had last night with him, and guys, it's that girlfriend of your future wife to be who is consulted on EVERYTHING down to which underwear she's wearing on your next date. Scary right? It is.
So, how do you break up the bromance/homance? Simply put, you don't. Stay away from these people. That's the best advice I can give. Eventually the creepiness of the bro/homance will wear itself thin...but if it doesn't, you're better off not joining into a threesome. Because let's be honest, that's truly what it would be. Unless you like that kinky kind of thing...
But really, for all of you people who have these relationships, and you know some of you do, tone them down. Honestly, it's keeping you from having healthy relationships with people. No one wants to feel like they're sharing someone right when they're getting to know them in the relationship sense. So give your bro/homance partner the same advice you should give yourself. Move on and find a life.
Anyways, so I was talking to one of my friends about his "bromance". Ok, now I completely get the idea that everyone has friends, and everyone has close friends. We all have that go-to person for everything in our life that knows us inside and out and can console us even before we need consoling. (Guys, this would be that dude that brings you beer when you sound sad. Girls, it's your friend that brings over ice cream.) But what happens when you have that one friendship that's just a little "too" close. You know what I mean. Ladies, it's that guy who lives with your potential future husband and who you would seriously think is his hetero-life mate if it weren't for the amazing sex you had last night with him, and guys, it's that girlfriend of your future wife to be who is consulted on EVERYTHING down to which underwear she's wearing on your next date. Scary right? It is.
So, how do you break up the bromance/homance? Simply put, you don't. Stay away from these people. That's the best advice I can give. Eventually the creepiness of the bro/homance will wear itself thin...but if it doesn't, you're better off not joining into a threesome. Because let's be honest, that's truly what it would be. Unless you like that kinky kind of thing...
But really, for all of you people who have these relationships, and you know some of you do, tone them down. Honestly, it's keeping you from having healthy relationships with people. No one wants to feel like they're sharing someone right when they're getting to know them in the relationship sense. So give your bro/homance partner the same advice you should give yourself. Move on and find a life.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Walking Contradiction
I wonder how many people in life honestly take inventory of how much of what they say matches up to what they preach. Maybe I'm oblivious and people do it all the time. Me on the other hand, I apparently live in the land of cognitive dissonance. I love that term. When I was a sociology major in undergrad, cognitive dissonance was always my favorite sociological term because for some reason that word always seemed to describe my life in some way shape or form. Basically, cognitive dissonance in it's simplest sense is the uncomfy feeling you have when you hold two contradictory beliefs simultaneously. Most sociological theorists believe that we, as humans attempt to avoid this dissonance by either adjusting our beliefs so that the two coincide or we try to rationalize why we have those particular thoughts/beliefs.
For instance...I preach up and down about the ways of eating healthy and utilizing the gym, yet my lazy ass hasn't done either of those two things in well, quite awhile. But besides my unending battle with upcoming New Year's resolutions, I have learned that I'm quite the line walker of cognitive dissonance when it comes to relationships.
I read a few articles this weekend that made me think about how often I have 1) said I want a particular quality in a guy and have let him walk away or 2) disobeyed relationship advice/beliefs I've held and continuously go against them. Basically it's that lovely line from "The Wedding Planner" where Jennifer Lopez so eloquently states, "Those who can't wed, plan!" Therefore, since I apparently suck at finding relationships, I blog endlessly about my mistakes. Just consider me your dating stunt double.
Now guys, women really are crazy. Trust me, we are. But mainly it's because every time we go on a date with someone we are rattling our heads at the cognitive dissonance running through our veins. I mean for years we are told by our mothers, and fathers alike to find a kind, decent, honest, intelligent man. But ladies, now be honest, how many of us have gone after the rough, indecent, lying, questionable intellect men of this world? Go ahead, raise your hand. Why do we do this? Is it simply to disobey the golden rules our parents have set forth for us even into our adulthood? Do we as women enjoy this feeling of rebelliousness?
I don't think so. Now keep in mind, this is just my thought, and oh yes, my thoughts are usually awesome. But...my theory is this. Men, you enjoy fixing things correct? The bathroom tub that's leaking, or the car that just won't purr like a kitten, or even that darn light bulb that keeps going out. Well, hidden secret...women like to fix things to. They're called men. For some reason women have developed this innate intuitive sense to "fix" men. And the quotations around the word fix are there for a reason, because I firmly believe that no man can be "fixed", at least in the sense us women would like them to be. It's purely a control issue. For some weird off handed biological reason women enjoy the satisfaction of bringing home a changed man. It's an odd dependence of sorts where a woman can look back and be like "Yes, I had a part in that".
When I set out to write this blog, I had no intention of supporting one side or the other. Merely, I wanted to be an observer of relationships in life. Call it my sociological intuition. (See mom and dad, the degree DOES work in real life!) My meanderings are just that. They are brief glimpses into my own viewpoint and how those can be manifested to relationship situations. Or maybe this little paragraph is another demonstration of my cognitive dissonance on why the girl who cannot get a boyfriend writes about relationships and dating...sigh.
For instance...I preach up and down about the ways of eating healthy and utilizing the gym, yet my lazy ass hasn't done either of those two things in well, quite awhile. But besides my unending battle with upcoming New Year's resolutions, I have learned that I'm quite the line walker of cognitive dissonance when it comes to relationships.
I read a few articles this weekend that made me think about how often I have 1) said I want a particular quality in a guy and have let him walk away or 2) disobeyed relationship advice/beliefs I've held and continuously go against them. Basically it's that lovely line from "The Wedding Planner" where Jennifer Lopez so eloquently states, "Those who can't wed, plan!" Therefore, since I apparently suck at finding relationships, I blog endlessly about my mistakes. Just consider me your dating stunt double.
Now guys, women really are crazy. Trust me, we are. But mainly it's because every time we go on a date with someone we are rattling our heads at the cognitive dissonance running through our veins. I mean for years we are told by our mothers, and fathers alike to find a kind, decent, honest, intelligent man. But ladies, now be honest, how many of us have gone after the rough, indecent, lying, questionable intellect men of this world? Go ahead, raise your hand. Why do we do this? Is it simply to disobey the golden rules our parents have set forth for us even into our adulthood? Do we as women enjoy this feeling of rebelliousness?
I don't think so. Now keep in mind, this is just my thought, and oh yes, my thoughts are usually awesome. But...my theory is this. Men, you enjoy fixing things correct? The bathroom tub that's leaking, or the car that just won't purr like a kitten, or even that darn light bulb that keeps going out. Well, hidden secret...women like to fix things to. They're called men. For some reason women have developed this innate intuitive sense to "fix" men. And the quotations around the word fix are there for a reason, because I firmly believe that no man can be "fixed", at least in the sense us women would like them to be. It's purely a control issue. For some weird off handed biological reason women enjoy the satisfaction of bringing home a changed man. It's an odd dependence of sorts where a woman can look back and be like "Yes, I had a part in that".
When I set out to write this blog, I had no intention of supporting one side or the other. Merely, I wanted to be an observer of relationships in life. Call it my sociological intuition. (See mom and dad, the degree DOES work in real life!) My meanderings are just that. They are brief glimpses into my own viewpoint and how those can be manifested to relationship situations. Or maybe this little paragraph is another demonstration of my cognitive dissonance on why the girl who cannot get a boyfriend writes about relationships and dating...sigh.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Spellcheck Yo'self!
As a self proclaimed guru and founding member of online dating I feel like I have become a fairly good judge of people. OK, well maybe judge is a bad word, since that makes me feel like I have this unyielding power to proclaim who's awesome and who's not...well wait, never mind, maybe I do like that power. Anywho, since I've been doing the online dating for oh let's see 12 years (yes that means I started when I was 14 for those of you who forgot to know how to subtract once calculators were invented...I had liberal parents, what can I say?) then I think I've developed a very keen sense of knowing how a person will be once I meet them in person.
Normally based on a person's profile I have a fairly accurate depiction of how their personality will play off in real life. However, the better portrayals come from the short emails that are flown back and forth during the initial stages. For instance, on one of the sites, some guy emailed me and kid you not spelled the word "you" as "yu". Apparently it was just waaaaaayyy too much effort to type in that "o" to complete the word. Maybe it was just simpler since the "y" and the "u" keys are right next to each other. Either way, I said PASS! And then he had the nerve to get all huffy on me and say something to the effect of "hey, stop judging me because I'm an illiterate mess and can't spell and use proper grammar", except he actually misspelled grammar in the sentence...which further proved my point. (Mainly because I had used the word grammar in the note he was replying to...so the word was right there, he could seriously just copied and pasted it, but that again must have been too much effort).
And OK, before you all jump my ass for my typos throughout my blog, I'll admit I'm being a hypocrite...kind of. If someone sends me a note and there's an occasional misspelled word here and there I let it slide, I'm not a spelling Nazi, I'll live. But when someone repeatedly misspells and uses bad grammar throughout a message, it almost looks like they're intentionally being stupid. Seriously fellas, nothing is more sexier than an intelligent man. OK, well maybe nice arms...a defined chest...gorgeous eyes...a killer smile...ahhh OK, you get the hint. Either way, intelligence is one of the things that is a NECESSITY when it comes to dating me. Some women can deal with mind numbingly boring conversations with someone who has the intellect of a piece of cardboard. I can't. I want someone who talks about interesting and thought provoking things that challenges me to google my heart out after I nod and pretend to know what they mean. Because God forbid I let a man think he knows more than me! GASP! That'll be the day.
So, point is, I'm not in college anymore. So I don't usually respond to "hey hottie", or "hey ma", or "hey yu sxe"I mean honestly, if you don't have the ability to type simple things with your digits, what makes me think you know how to use them for *ahem* other things? Think about it...and spell check yo'self before you wreck yo'self fool!
Normally based on a person's profile I have a fairly accurate depiction of how their personality will play off in real life. However, the better portrayals come from the short emails that are flown back and forth during the initial stages. For instance, on one of the sites, some guy emailed me and kid you not spelled the word "you" as "yu". Apparently it was just waaaaaayyy too much effort to type in that "o" to complete the word. Maybe it was just simpler since the "y" and the "u" keys are right next to each other. Either way, I said PASS! And then he had the nerve to get all huffy on me and say something to the effect of "hey, stop judging me because I'm an illiterate mess and can't spell and use proper grammar", except he actually misspelled grammar in the sentence...which further proved my point. (Mainly because I had used the word grammar in the note he was replying to...so the word was right there, he could seriously just copied and pasted it, but that again must have been too much effort).
And OK, before you all jump my ass for my typos throughout my blog, I'll admit I'm being a hypocrite...kind of. If someone sends me a note and there's an occasional misspelled word here and there I let it slide, I'm not a spelling Nazi, I'll live. But when someone repeatedly misspells and uses bad grammar throughout a message, it almost looks like they're intentionally being stupid. Seriously fellas, nothing is more sexier than an intelligent man. OK, well maybe nice arms...a defined chest...gorgeous eyes...a killer smile...ahhh OK, you get the hint. Either way, intelligence is one of the things that is a NECESSITY when it comes to dating me. Some women can deal with mind numbingly boring conversations with someone who has the intellect of a piece of cardboard. I can't. I want someone who talks about interesting and thought provoking things that challenges me to google my heart out after I nod and pretend to know what they mean. Because God forbid I let a man think he knows more than me! GASP! That'll be the day.
So, point is, I'm not in college anymore. So I don't usually respond to "hey hottie", or "hey ma", or "hey yu sxe"I mean honestly, if you don't have the ability to type simple things with your digits, what makes me think you know how to use them for *ahem* other things? Think about it...and spell check yo'self before you wreck yo'self fool!
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Your Answer to the Magazine Questionnaire
Ok, so of course I'm going to spend the first few sentences remarking about my extended leave again...damn I need to keep up with this better. I mean this blog could be made into a multimillion dollar book right? I figure if that guy who wrote "He's Just Not That Into You" then my blog will get picked up as the more awesome female version titled "Who Gives a Crap if He's Not that Into You, At Least I'm Into ME Dammit!". Very empowering I think. I'm sure instead it will be my lame-o version of "I Am an Awesome Date Advisor, but Can't Find a Man Myself". Oh bring on the bag lady persona.
Anyways, on my quest of everlasting love (or someone to share an apartment with...rent is HIGH up here), I had a dating experience not too long ago that made me think of those really awful magazine questionnaires that are supposed to give you some deep insight into how well you are in bed, or what type of girlfriend you'd be. By the way, I always cheated on those surveys and figured out which "persona" I wanted to fit into and answered accordingly to get that score. I'm sure that psychologically explains SO much. Maybe that'll be another post...women who cheat on surveys in magazines that have no relevance to life whatsover.
Anywho, back to the topic. Well on most of these pseudo-informational surveys, there's usually a question such as "If you were at a restaurant with someone and they had something on their face would you A) Tell them right away in your best outdoor voice B) Ignore the mess on their face C) Make a casual facial gesture indicating they are a slob and have stuff on their face or D) Ignore the mess, watch them put even more food on their face, chuckle on the inside and then realize you are the one being seen with this person in public so after 15 really awkward minutes you tell them that they now have dried food stuck to their face.
Ok...so I chose D. The guy was an utter SLOB! Granted, if you know me, I am by far and away not the most clean eater. In fact, my mother strongly advised against me wearing a white dress to Prom for that very reason. (God only knows what she'll do at my wedding...oh wait, I won't be wearing white will I? haha, man I set myself up GOOD for that one). Even better example my friends at college nicknamed my cleavage "The Village" because I used to spill so much food down there that the only explanation was that I was feeding the small boob people who lived in the crevices between Twin A and Twin B. Ok, I'm sure that was too much information. Regardless, the point is, it HAD to be bad for me to put on the "eww gross" face. I literally think the best part though was after he had blue cheese dressing smeared across his entire mouth for 5 minutes, he realized he should wipe is mouth and when he picked up the napkin it grazed the top of the whip cream on his belgian waffle, which when he wiped his mouth ended up on the side of his cheek. It took all of my willpower not to laugh...or walk out the door. Thank God it was a diner in New Jersey.
So ummm yeah another one bites the dust...
Anyways, on my quest of everlasting love (or someone to share an apartment with...rent is HIGH up here), I had a dating experience not too long ago that made me think of those really awful magazine questionnaires that are supposed to give you some deep insight into how well you are in bed, or what type of girlfriend you'd be. By the way, I always cheated on those surveys and figured out which "persona" I wanted to fit into and answered accordingly to get that score. I'm sure that psychologically explains SO much. Maybe that'll be another post...women who cheat on surveys in magazines that have no relevance to life whatsover.
Anywho, back to the topic. Well on most of these pseudo-informational surveys, there's usually a question such as "If you were at a restaurant with someone and they had something on their face would you A) Tell them right away in your best outdoor voice B) Ignore the mess on their face C) Make a casual facial gesture indicating they are a slob and have stuff on their face or D) Ignore the mess, watch them put even more food on their face, chuckle on the inside and then realize you are the one being seen with this person in public so after 15 really awkward minutes you tell them that they now have dried food stuck to their face.
Ok...so I chose D. The guy was an utter SLOB! Granted, if you know me, I am by far and away not the most clean eater. In fact, my mother strongly advised against me wearing a white dress to Prom for that very reason. (God only knows what she'll do at my wedding...oh wait, I won't be wearing white will I? haha, man I set myself up GOOD for that one). Even better example my friends at college nicknamed my cleavage "The Village" because I used to spill so much food down there that the only explanation was that I was feeding the small boob people who lived in the crevices between Twin A and Twin B. Ok, I'm sure that was too much information. Regardless, the point is, it HAD to be bad for me to put on the "eww gross" face. I literally think the best part though was after he had blue cheese dressing smeared across his entire mouth for 5 minutes, he realized he should wipe is mouth and when he picked up the napkin it grazed the top of the whip cream on his belgian waffle, which when he wiped his mouth ended up on the side of his cheek. It took all of my willpower not to laugh...or walk out the door. Thank God it was a diner in New Jersey.
So ummm yeah another one bites the dust...
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Circle of Exes (aka Circle of Insecurity)
So today was an interesting day. I was actually for I believe the first time in my life, "dis-invited" to a birthday party. Now as many of you know, I am THE life of the party, so my sudden dismissal from a party setting probably completely ruined the evening for this person I'm sure. (Yes, I'm patting my own back here...it's rough on my ego being disinvited/stood up anywhere/anytime). Ok, so the reason being that I was uninvited (or at least told it wouldn't be the "best" idea for me to come minus a male escort) was because this friend of mine and I went on a few dates about a year and a half ago, and his new live-in girlfriend who is truly and honestly is heads over heels in love with is not comfy with my presence. (Which is why I haven't even SEEN this said person since they started dating).
I totally get the fact, and or point, that this girl is making. I mean it's never a good situation being in a room with someone that your current partner has been involved with, no matter how big or small. Trust me, I've been on that end too, and it's almost equivalent to hearing fingernails run over a chalkboard. But this is the first time I've been on the other end of that stick. Being the "other woman" so to speak. Now it's very clear that this friend and I are truly only friends. Even when we stopped dating, I tried to set him up with some of my other friends in the area. But obviously that's not much of the point here.
I guess my main pull-away from this one is a few things. First off, I apparently need to broaden my circle of friends. I have learned that there are a lot of people/friends, obviously guy friends in my life that I have had some sort of brief history with that transpired into friendships. I know that once I get into another serious relationship (i.e. whenever Hell freezes over apparently) is going to be a moment where some of those relationships will inevitably end. I'm not sure if I'm completely prepared for that, and maybe that's why I cling to those friendships and somewhat sabotage nearly every dating experience I have. (God that's depressing to think...I hope I'm wrong on that one).
The second issue in this is the many insecurities that each and every one of us carries from one relationship to the next. Ladies and gentlemen, it is perfectly fine to be cautious, to have a bit of a guard up, and to take things slowly. But don't ever let the person you are with pay for the mistakes that someone else put in your life. I've learned this the hard ways over the years. But leave issues with another person in a past. All you can do is walk into relationships with an open heart, an open spirit and an open love. Over the years, it always seems that the moment my heart is open is the moment love walks in. Sometimes all we need to do is open up the circle...
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Random Absence
Wow...so I just realized I haven't posted on here in well, awhile. My sincerest apologies to you few stalkers that notoriously peruse my blog :) (By the way, no idea if I have stalkers or not, I just thought it would give my blog a bit more credibility if I said I did).
So I feel like I've been going through an extremely dry spell. Maybe it's the weather change and hormones are packing up for the winter, so the prowl of single men in NYC is coming to a standstill. Or, it could be the abysmal economy and men are too broke to take a girl on a date (I know I make daily decisions between my bus pass and groceries). Or an even more frightening possibility is that I've dated every eligible, tolerably creepy man the tri-state area has to offer. (God I hope not, because then this blog will get VERY boring).
My true and honest opinion though is the dry spell is more my fault than anything. I noticed I'm becoming continually bored with online dating. I'm sure the guys sending me 3 paragraph mini-novelas about their lives are truly fascinating, but I can't help but roll my eyes at the repetitve questions. I mean hell, even the profile pictures are strarting to blend into one bad collage of typical online photographs. (Oh, you know what I'm talking about too...you know the "Here's me without a shirt on" or the "Look at my adorable puppy picture" or "Hey, see I really do have friends! Picture") I'm becoming bored...and I hate that. If you know me, you know that boredom leaves me with idle time, which means I become dangerously unproductive and unamusing.
Hopefully things will pick up here soon...Christmas is coming, so maybe Santa will give me a nice gift in the male form.
Oh! I almost forgot that I did learn something in my brief sabbatical. Over the summer I did a belated spring cleaning of sorts on my phone. Basically I tossed out any number deemed irrelevant to my life. (Namely men I've been on bad dates with). So then of course I realized that men really do think women play "hard to get" and that my ignoring them totally means that I want to sleep with them. Therefore, I start getting all of these texts from numbers that are no longer conveniently labeled in my phone. So, of course being the brilliant woman that I am, I will text back "Who's this?" and typical response is "Oh hey it's (insert bad date's name). We went on a date and then you never called me." Sounds like a rhetorical response should have been rendered upon them sending the text. But nope...the ignoring cycle viciously whipped back around. However, I did learn to store the "really crazy" bad dates name in the phone simply so I could screen the texts/phone calls and not make the mistake of giving them a legit reply.
Bring on the dates!
So I feel like I've been going through an extremely dry spell. Maybe it's the weather change and hormones are packing up for the winter, so the prowl of single men in NYC is coming to a standstill. Or, it could be the abysmal economy and men are too broke to take a girl on a date (I know I make daily decisions between my bus pass and groceries). Or an even more frightening possibility is that I've dated every eligible, tolerably creepy man the tri-state area has to offer. (God I hope not, because then this blog will get VERY boring).
My true and honest opinion though is the dry spell is more my fault than anything. I noticed I'm becoming continually bored with online dating. I'm sure the guys sending me 3 paragraph mini-novelas about their lives are truly fascinating, but I can't help but roll my eyes at the repetitve questions. I mean hell, even the profile pictures are strarting to blend into one bad collage of typical online photographs. (Oh, you know what I'm talking about too...you know the "Here's me without a shirt on" or the "Look at my adorable puppy picture" or "Hey, see I really do have friends! Picture") I'm becoming bored...and I hate that. If you know me, you know that boredom leaves me with idle time, which means I become dangerously unproductive and unamusing.
Hopefully things will pick up here soon...Christmas is coming, so maybe Santa will give me a nice gift in the male form.
Oh! I almost forgot that I did learn something in my brief sabbatical. Over the summer I did a belated spring cleaning of sorts on my phone. Basically I tossed out any number deemed irrelevant to my life. (Namely men I've been on bad dates with). So then of course I realized that men really do think women play "hard to get" and that my ignoring them totally means that I want to sleep with them. Therefore, I start getting all of these texts from numbers that are no longer conveniently labeled in my phone. So, of course being the brilliant woman that I am, I will text back "Who's this?" and typical response is "Oh hey it's (insert bad date's name). We went on a date and then you never called me." Sounds like a rhetorical response should have been rendered upon them sending the text. But nope...the ignoring cycle viciously whipped back around. However, I did learn to store the "really crazy" bad dates name in the phone simply so I could screen the texts/phone calls and not make the mistake of giving them a legit reply.
Bring on the dates!
Friday, September 26, 2008
Purging of Comforts
Ok, so I meant to write this one a long time ago when I had the epiphany for this particular post on my commute into the city one day. So, forgive me if it's not as fabulous as I originally intended it to be.
So, if you know me, you know that I tend to value my sleep. Which means I have perfectly planned my mornings in a manner such that I wake up at the last possible moment with the least amount of time to get ready and get out the door to make it to the office by 9am. Unfortunately, there are mornings where I hit snags. Such as I can't find anything to wear, or I can't find my Nine West right heel. Either way, sometimes it leaves me with running out the door without breakfast, or if I do eat something it's maybe something small like a banana. This then means on my way to work I torture myself with the debate of "Well, do I REALLY need that bagel and cream cheese? Or should I be good and get the fruit and low-fat yogurt?" I'll admit about 99% of the time, the bagel wins. (But to justify, or at least rectify my guilt I'll get a cup of fruit to accompany it). Call bagels my comfort food. In New York, they are always there. Any time of the day you can find a bagel. It's that familiar thing I can always go to. It's like my version of man's best friend, except mine comes in a carbohydate form rather than a furry dog form.
Relationships I have with people in my life are similar to my "food comforts". We all have those comforts in our lives, those things that we always cling to, or run towards when we've run out of options, or when we just need a sense of something familiar, thus making it a comfort. Sometimes we cling to that comfort because we're scared of trying something new (I mean, scones are an option right?). But as humans and creatures of habit, we love reliability and familiarity. I mean that's what being an adult is right? Stability. Strength. Reliable. Resourceful. Ok that sounds like a car commercial now. However, I think this clingy-ness to comfort keeps us from moving forward sometime.
I mean take the bagels for instance. I have been trying for ages it feels like to lose a few pounds before Halloween, but those damn bagels! If I could remove them, purge myself of their comfort, I could move forward with my goal. Much like if I could purge myself of comforts I have with people in my life, I could move forward in becoming a better more loving person. Instead, the comforts allow us to "blame" something other than ourselves for the impeding.
So, I suppose the take-away lesson learned from this post is that purging of comforts is good for the soul. It allows you to broaden, to become a more open individual. One that doesn't just hope for comforts, but welcomes the uncomforts of life because those may eventually turn into future comforts.
So, if you know me, you know that I tend to value my sleep. Which means I have perfectly planned my mornings in a manner such that I wake up at the last possible moment with the least amount of time to get ready and get out the door to make it to the office by 9am. Unfortunately, there are mornings where I hit snags. Such as I can't find anything to wear, or I can't find my Nine West right heel. Either way, sometimes it leaves me with running out the door without breakfast, or if I do eat something it's maybe something small like a banana. This then means on my way to work I torture myself with the debate of "Well, do I REALLY need that bagel and cream cheese? Or should I be good and get the fruit and low-fat yogurt?" I'll admit about 99% of the time, the bagel wins. (But to justify, or at least rectify my guilt I'll get a cup of fruit to accompany it). Call bagels my comfort food. In New York, they are always there. Any time of the day you can find a bagel. It's that familiar thing I can always go to. It's like my version of man's best friend, except mine comes in a carbohydate form rather than a furry dog form.
Relationships I have with people in my life are similar to my "food comforts". We all have those comforts in our lives, those things that we always cling to, or run towards when we've run out of options, or when we just need a sense of something familiar, thus making it a comfort. Sometimes we cling to that comfort because we're scared of trying something new (I mean, scones are an option right?). But as humans and creatures of habit, we love reliability and familiarity. I mean that's what being an adult is right? Stability. Strength. Reliable. Resourceful. Ok that sounds like a car commercial now. However, I think this clingy-ness to comfort keeps us from moving forward sometime.
I mean take the bagels for instance. I have been trying for ages it feels like to lose a few pounds before Halloween, but those damn bagels! If I could remove them, purge myself of their comfort, I could move forward with my goal. Much like if I could purge myself of comforts I have with people in my life, I could move forward in becoming a better more loving person. Instead, the comforts allow us to "blame" something other than ourselves for the impeding.
So, I suppose the take-away lesson learned from this post is that purging of comforts is good for the soul. It allows you to broaden, to become a more open individual. One that doesn't just hope for comforts, but welcomes the uncomforts of life because those may eventually turn into future comforts.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Angry Cry of Entitlement
Ok, this is not going to be a pleasant post, so read at your own discretion. This will be more of a soul cleansing of sorts...a proverbial skeletons out of the closet post to clear my head and my heart for good.
So, as I sat basking in the wedding mist of yesterday, I cannot help but sit here today going through some mental anguish of what might/should have been. 4 years ago I never would have thought I would have become this fairly bitter and decidedly awful dater who cannot seem to make it past three dates with a guy before getting bent out of shape for some reason. I mean it's been two years for God's sake. What is holding me back? Me. My anger.
I cry in pure anger with myself with a sense of entitlement of the promises he made to me so long ago. Promises of loyalty, of honesty of love...and it was treated with disrespect and brought so much pain to my heart. I know that eternally there will always be this spot in my heart that will harbor both hate and love for this person because he's the only one that could have hurt me so bad because I loved him more than my heart would bear that the weight of his indiscretions collapsed a part of my hope...my fancy...my essence.
He had my heart...all of it. And for those who know me well know that does not come easy. My life has been built to protect me. Everything I done has been planned just so that I would come out seemingly unscathed. Not the best mentality I know since the bruises and scars of life make us the people we are. I developed a strength, a simple resistance to protect myself with this thin veil of confidence and hope. Unfortunately that veil was not reality.
As I sit here at age 26, I cannot help but look at my friends who are married, now some with kids who married the men they were destined to be with. I was supposed to be part of them. It's just like being picked last for gym class or something. Where everyone is pairing up together and soon enough I'm going to be the only one standing.
I fear that the damage has run its course on my soul. That there will always be this imperfect damage...a battle scar of sorts that is probably from one of the biggest wars of my life. It was the war of love. A war that I believe I fought valiantly for...but like any soldier from war, I left with bruises, with a different outlook and more often than not...came home a bit homesick. But I'm coming home. Back to me. Back to my essence. Because no one can take that from me.
I know that this particular person will read this and will either be completely angry at me or he'll finally understand a bit of the pain I still feel to this day and why on some days it just helps my heart heal a little bit by hearing an encouraging word from him. He is a good man. A good good man. And the woman who captivates his heart once again is forever blessed. God shined on us as long as He possibly could, and it was all for a reason. I pray for his happiness daily because my heart is always carrying a piece of me with him. I just hope that he says those same prayers for me.
Ok...I think I am done with my angry cry. The tears have now moved to tears of relief...tears that are more cleansing than anything for even though I feel damaged on the inside, the damage is what makes me Kassandra, and it's inevitably my imperfections that allow for love to exist.
So, as I sat basking in the wedding mist of yesterday, I cannot help but sit here today going through some mental anguish of what might/should have been. 4 years ago I never would have thought I would have become this fairly bitter and decidedly awful dater who cannot seem to make it past three dates with a guy before getting bent out of shape for some reason. I mean it's been two years for God's sake. What is holding me back? Me. My anger.
I cry in pure anger with myself with a sense of entitlement of the promises he made to me so long ago. Promises of loyalty, of honesty of love...and it was treated with disrespect and brought so much pain to my heart. I know that eternally there will always be this spot in my heart that will harbor both hate and love for this person because he's the only one that could have hurt me so bad because I loved him more than my heart would bear that the weight of his indiscretions collapsed a part of my hope...my fancy...my essence.
He had my heart...all of it. And for those who know me well know that does not come easy. My life has been built to protect me. Everything I done has been planned just so that I would come out seemingly unscathed. Not the best mentality I know since the bruises and scars of life make us the people we are. I developed a strength, a simple resistance to protect myself with this thin veil of confidence and hope. Unfortunately that veil was not reality.
As I sit here at age 26, I cannot help but look at my friends who are married, now some with kids who married the men they were destined to be with. I was supposed to be part of them. It's just like being picked last for gym class or something. Where everyone is pairing up together and soon enough I'm going to be the only one standing.
I fear that the damage has run its course on my soul. That there will always be this imperfect damage...a battle scar of sorts that is probably from one of the biggest wars of my life. It was the war of love. A war that I believe I fought valiantly for...but like any soldier from war, I left with bruises, with a different outlook and more often than not...came home a bit homesick. But I'm coming home. Back to me. Back to my essence. Because no one can take that from me.
I know that this particular person will read this and will either be completely angry at me or he'll finally understand a bit of the pain I still feel to this day and why on some days it just helps my heart heal a little bit by hearing an encouraging word from him. He is a good man. A good good man. And the woman who captivates his heart once again is forever blessed. God shined on us as long as He possibly could, and it was all for a reason. I pray for his happiness daily because my heart is always carrying a piece of me with him. I just hope that he says those same prayers for me.
Ok...I think I am done with my angry cry. The tears have now moved to tears of relief...tears that are more cleansing than anything for even though I feel damaged on the inside, the damage is what makes me Kassandra, and it's inevitably my imperfections that allow for love to exist.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Wedding Afterglow
So let me first start off by apologizing for not writing in a bit. Personal life, outside of the dating world has been quite hectic with switching jobs, etc. (Even though I'm not sure I have a large enough core audience to warrant an apology, but I'll pretend I've amasked thousands of readers and thus the need to apologize for my absence.)
The afterglow of weddings...I just recently came back from one of my good friend Edwin's wedding just now and I must say it was one of the better weddings I've attended. Very beautiful location and nice ceremony, so I'm extremely happy for him. But like many women, let me re-phrase that. Like many single women (that's better) who attend weddings, I will admit, I catch a case of wedding fever. Yes I'm guilty of spending 90% of my Sundays glued to WEtv watching the plethora of wedding shows like Bridezillas and Platinum Weddings, but there just is nothing quite like seeing a wedding in person.
I'm not a super emotional person, but something about a wedding that just gets to you. And the best part of an entire wedding is not the party, not the great food, but honestly...it's simply looking at the groom's face the first moment he sees his bride walk down the aisle. Which today was particularly funny because I was looking at my friend Edwin to catch the tears glimmering and he caught me looking and waved. I about died. haha. Either way...the look in his face when he saw his future wife walk down the aisle was priceless. A man's first glimpse of his future, his life, his destiny is something that I honestly crave to experience. It's one of those rare instances in life where nothing else matters but the brief moment of feeling you have when you see someone you love and care for in a different perspective. Because let's be honest, that's the very first moment that guys thing "Wow, that's my wife...and she's absolutely beautiful."
So, this is a sentimental post more or less simply stating that no one should settle for anyone less than someone who looks at them on their wedding day with a look full of hope, passion and love. A picture perfect moment that will last throughout all time.
The afterglow of weddings...I just recently came back from one of my good friend Edwin's wedding just now and I must say it was one of the better weddings I've attended. Very beautiful location and nice ceremony, so I'm extremely happy for him. But like many women, let me re-phrase that. Like many single women (that's better) who attend weddings, I will admit, I catch a case of wedding fever. Yes I'm guilty of spending 90% of my Sundays glued to WEtv watching the plethora of wedding shows like Bridezillas and Platinum Weddings, but there just is nothing quite like seeing a wedding in person.
I'm not a super emotional person, but something about a wedding that just gets to you. And the best part of an entire wedding is not the party, not the great food, but honestly...it's simply looking at the groom's face the first moment he sees his bride walk down the aisle. Which today was particularly funny because I was looking at my friend Edwin to catch the tears glimmering and he caught me looking and waved. I about died. haha. Either way...the look in his face when he saw his future wife walk down the aisle was priceless. A man's first glimpse of his future, his life, his destiny is something that I honestly crave to experience. It's one of those rare instances in life where nothing else matters but the brief moment of feeling you have when you see someone you love and care for in a different perspective. Because let's be honest, that's the very first moment that guys thing "Wow, that's my wife...and she's absolutely beautiful."
So, this is a sentimental post more or less simply stating that no one should settle for anyone less than someone who looks at them on their wedding day with a look full of hope, passion and love. A picture perfect moment that will last throughout all time.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Stop looking and it will come?
Yes the question mark is there to mark my skepticism. I cannot even count on my two hands and two feet how many people have just told me the sage wisdom of "Don't look for it, let it come to you." Bleh. That was me vomiting.
Is it really true that magically if you just obliterate the idea of finding a happy settled down life with an incredible handsome, charming and painstakingly romantic and strong man, that he'll just come rolling into your life or spot you across the platform at the subway station and fall madly in love with you? Ok, so maybe that's hyper-idealized, but you get the point.
Now I'm not one to question fate, because it has worked it's strange magic in my life. (If you know the odd story of how my ex and I met, then you will agree). But, maybe the Northeast mentality or the hardening of my skin based on experiences with men/people in general have caused me to develop this skeptical relationship with fate. Is it all it's cracked up to be?
Therefore, I'm beginning to realize that only part of that statement is true. Yes, when you stop looking things do suddenly appear. However, it does not mean you ever stop thinking about it, or imagining it or desiring it. I even had one friend who said "Kassandra, stop 'hoping' for it. Let it be." Why should I not hope for something so amazing in my life? Hope is the faith that better things will happen. So dammit I'm going to hope all I want. (I'm sure you've realized I'm stubborn by now).
So, my compromise is this. I will stop looking in the sense that I'm not going to put up a thousand online profiles about how fabulous I am and what I want in a man and telling men whether or not I think they fit that criteria. So in that sense, I'm retiring. I think the shopping aisle mentality of searching through men like they were trading cards is too exhausting for me. However, I am going to hope beyond hope that something rolls my way.
Instead of looking to other people to "find" something maybe the key to finding someone is to know and find who you yourself is as a person. Yes I know this is not "new" news. I've read it in plenty of self-help books and heard it from many friends and family. The whole "You can't be good enough for someone else if you're not good enough for you." Blah, blah, blah. I get it. However, I think it's not really a matter of being good enough, but rather the amazing confidence and happiness you find when you realize who the real you is. The person who wakes up with stinky breath and goes through about 10 outfits before she finds one that looks "just right". All your neurotic tendencies and fascinating charms and accepting them, whole-heartedly. That, I think is the key to finding someone.
When people know who they are, it is magnified to people. People really are inspired by others who are comfortable in their own skin, no matter how flawed or damaged that skin may be. And the best part of being comfortable with yourself is that when you find someone walks into your life while you are being you...then you know 100% that they fell in love with guess what?...YOU!
Is it really true that magically if you just obliterate the idea of finding a happy settled down life with an incredible handsome, charming and painstakingly romantic and strong man, that he'll just come rolling into your life or spot you across the platform at the subway station and fall madly in love with you? Ok, so maybe that's hyper-idealized, but you get the point.
Now I'm not one to question fate, because it has worked it's strange magic in my life. (If you know the odd story of how my ex and I met, then you will agree). But, maybe the Northeast mentality or the hardening of my skin based on experiences with men/people in general have caused me to develop this skeptical relationship with fate. Is it all it's cracked up to be?
Therefore, I'm beginning to realize that only part of that statement is true. Yes, when you stop looking things do suddenly appear. However, it does not mean you ever stop thinking about it, or imagining it or desiring it. I even had one friend who said "Kassandra, stop 'hoping' for it. Let it be." Why should I not hope for something so amazing in my life? Hope is the faith that better things will happen. So dammit I'm going to hope all I want. (I'm sure you've realized I'm stubborn by now).
So, my compromise is this. I will stop looking in the sense that I'm not going to put up a thousand online profiles about how fabulous I am and what I want in a man and telling men whether or not I think they fit that criteria. So in that sense, I'm retiring. I think the shopping aisle mentality of searching through men like they were trading cards is too exhausting for me. However, I am going to hope beyond hope that something rolls my way.
Instead of looking to other people to "find" something maybe the key to finding someone is to know and find who you yourself is as a person. Yes I know this is not "new" news. I've read it in plenty of self-help books and heard it from many friends and family. The whole "You can't be good enough for someone else if you're not good enough for you." Blah, blah, blah. I get it. However, I think it's not really a matter of being good enough, but rather the amazing confidence and happiness you find when you realize who the real you is. The person who wakes up with stinky breath and goes through about 10 outfits before she finds one that looks "just right". All your neurotic tendencies and fascinating charms and accepting them, whole-heartedly. That, I think is the key to finding someone.
When people know who they are, it is magnified to people. People really are inspired by others who are comfortable in their own skin, no matter how flawed or damaged that skin may be. And the best part of being comfortable with yourself is that when you find someone walks into your life while you are being you...then you know 100% that they fell in love with guess what?...YOU!
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
A Scientific Explanation on my Singleness
Ok, so to make all of us single women feel less bad about our singledom, now there is scientific evidence stating why we are single. Seriously? I cannot believe that the failure of women to find a mate has now been scientifically examined. For some reason I see this trend running the same lines as when back in the day men used to think that PMS was an unexplained psychotic hysteria that occurred in women. Now single-ness has become a scientific explanation...in women. I guarantee no one is wondering or studying why so many men lack the mental, physical and intellectual aptitude to carry a monogamous relationship with a woman. So obviously is MUST be the women that are the problem. Rant is complete.
All right, so let's dig into this article that was sent to me from one of my friends:
http://news.yahoo.com/s/livescience/20080813/sc_livescience/thepillmakeswomenpickbadmates
So the basic premise (if you just didn't feel the necessity to read the article) is that women who are on the pill choose less suitable mates for themselves because the pill artificially puts women's bodies in a pregnant state thus removing many of the odor seeking tendencies that women look for when finding a suitable mate. Awesome.
Therefore, the pill I take every day is forcing me to seek men with similar scents, which would equate to why I'm meeting so many uninteresting men, or unsuitable men. Perfect explanation. I'm going to blame the magic pill that keeps me from popping out more confused females into the world.
So for men, who may or may not know the wonderful side effects of being on the pill, we now have 3 major ones that are really starting to slow up my progress on finding my prince charming.
All right, so let's dig into this article that was sent to me from one of my friends:
http://news.yahoo.com/s/livescience/20080813/sc_livescience/thepillmakeswomenpickbadmates
So the basic premise (if you just didn't feel the necessity to read the article) is that women who are on the pill choose less suitable mates for themselves because the pill artificially puts women's bodies in a pregnant state thus removing many of the odor seeking tendencies that women look for when finding a suitable mate. Awesome.
Therefore, the pill I take every day is forcing me to seek men with similar scents, which would equate to why I'm meeting so many uninteresting men, or unsuitable men. Perfect explanation. I'm going to blame the magic pill that keeps me from popping out more confused females into the world.
So for men, who may or may not know the wonderful side effects of being on the pill, we now have 3 major ones that are really starting to slow up my progress on finding my prince charming.
- The pill makes you gain weight.
- It lowers your sexual libido.
- It apparently detracts you from finding the right man.
Those three things...well those are pretty big deals. Why are the odds so against us women? Why do men have the luxury of just throwing on a piece of latex (or lambskin) which really the only side effect (or so many men claim) is that "it doesn't feel the same" as being without one. Why don't condoms make men emotional? Or why don't they make it harder for them to get aroused? Or better yet why don't condoms keep them from getting with that hot girl at the bar that they are attracted to? Women instead get the short end of the stick.
Instead of a quick safety fix like men where all you do is unwrap the condom, but it on, use and throw away, women have to take a pill every day at the same time and are forced to "trick" their bodies into thinking they are already pregnant. Unfair, Unfair, Unfair! Yes I'm whining.
One of my friends challenged me to go off the pill for 6 months to see if I'd find my perfect man. I'm seriously considering it just to see if I can prove/disprove the scientists right. However that means well *ahem*, no ummm extracurricular activities. I'm sure you all got the hint there. I can certainly go without, but it is something to think about. I'll keep you updated.
In the meantime...please always practice safe sex whether you're monogamous or not. Stuff happens whether science has an explanation for it or not.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Why Sex Equates to Male Laziness
So upon my useless meanderings I've noticed a symptomatic pattern across men, both ones that I have encountered and ones that other female friends have experienced as well, so the validation is there. Even though this is a broad sweeping generalization, the premise is there. I'll get to that in a minute.
Ok, ladies. You are dating a wonderful man, he takes you to dinner, walks in the park, calls you to check on you, all of the things that really validate that this man is interested in YOU. All the attention that you have been seeking is now present in the man in hot pursuit of your sexiness. All is well, and then one night (or day...depending on your mood), all of the signs are right, you're both feeling good and you have sex. At that very moment all of the planets in the universe realign, east is now west, and your man has just captured his "Gotcha!" moment. This is the very instance that a man falls into 'routine'. Or if not routine, he at least moves to a bottom line comfort level. Hello complacency.
So, of course this is aggravating. All of sudden the cute little texts telling you how beautiful you are and how much he misses you turns into texts that say "I can't wait to do you all night long" (more often than not it's more vulgar than that). This is the point where a giant sigh of dismay is released and all of those NOOOOOOOS start screaming in your head. And I'm not too sure about most women, but this is the exact moment that my boredom sets in.
Men...women like being pursued, and once you have captured their attention, they still enjoy the feeling of being wanted of being needed by you...and NOT just in a sexual manner. (Yes. There is a difference.)
Now men, stop your groveling in the corner about how women just are never interested in sex, they aren't the lady in the street, freak between the sheets that you were silently hoping for. The reason why your lady is not as "interested" in sex as you wishes she was is because you stopped working for it. Plain and simple. We're vindictive like that, sorry. But trust me, this one is mostly subconscious workings here. Because men, here's a secret that not all women like to admit because it's like giving away a little bit of the power and control we have...but, yes we enjoy sex just as much as you do. *GASP* And yes, we talk about it just as much as you talk about it with your fellas. *DOUBLE GASP!*
So, word to the wise for both of the sexes here. Women...allow a man to pursue you. Stop these one night stands or random hookups that we're all guilty of. You all know that your dream relationship is not going to stem from one hazy night full of too many Redbull and Vodka's and a toss around in the sheets. So stop imagining that guy calling you back. Let a man woo you. He has it in him. If he's serious about you, he'll put in the work. That's when you know you have a good man, because a good man learned from someone in his life that women are Queens and should be treated as such. If he doesn't treat you well in the beginning ladies...he never will. Stop trying to think you can change him, that's not happening either.
Men, stop being so damn lazy. Women love to be intimate with you just as much as you love it as well. A simple replacement of your nasty text messages with something a bit more subtle will win you extra "perks" that night. Trust us. A woman will be more likely to carry a "Wow, you look absolutely amazing today and I am so blessed to be your man" through their entire day than a "Baby, I can't wait for you to get home so I can do you all night". As much as you wish the second was a turn on...she probably just got completely turned off. So realize the communication difference. (Women, this applies to you too. Men do enjoy the romance, but spice it up for him too. Make him feel wanted. If your man told you how beautiful you were...give him a little masculine "oomph" builder.)
You can thank me later.
Ok, ladies. You are dating a wonderful man, he takes you to dinner, walks in the park, calls you to check on you, all of the things that really validate that this man is interested in YOU. All the attention that you have been seeking is now present in the man in hot pursuit of your sexiness. All is well, and then one night (or day...depending on your mood), all of the signs are right, you're both feeling good and you have sex. At that very moment all of the planets in the universe realign, east is now west, and your man has just captured his "Gotcha!" moment. This is the very instance that a man falls into 'routine'. Or if not routine, he at least moves to a bottom line comfort level. Hello complacency.
So, of course this is aggravating. All of sudden the cute little texts telling you how beautiful you are and how much he misses you turns into texts that say "I can't wait to do you all night long" (more often than not it's more vulgar than that). This is the point where a giant sigh of dismay is released and all of those NOOOOOOOS start screaming in your head. And I'm not too sure about most women, but this is the exact moment that my boredom sets in.
Men...women like being pursued, and once you have captured their attention, they still enjoy the feeling of being wanted of being needed by you...and NOT just in a sexual manner. (Yes. There is a difference.)
Now men, stop your groveling in the corner about how women just are never interested in sex, they aren't the lady in the street, freak between the sheets that you were silently hoping for. The reason why your lady is not as "interested" in sex as you wishes she was is because you stopped working for it. Plain and simple. We're vindictive like that, sorry. But trust me, this one is mostly subconscious workings here. Because men, here's a secret that not all women like to admit because it's like giving away a little bit of the power and control we have...but, yes we enjoy sex just as much as you do. *GASP* And yes, we talk about it just as much as you talk about it with your fellas. *DOUBLE GASP!*
So, word to the wise for both of the sexes here. Women...allow a man to pursue you. Stop these one night stands or random hookups that we're all guilty of. You all know that your dream relationship is not going to stem from one hazy night full of too many Redbull and Vodka's and a toss around in the sheets. So stop imagining that guy calling you back. Let a man woo you. He has it in him. If he's serious about you, he'll put in the work. That's when you know you have a good man, because a good man learned from someone in his life that women are Queens and should be treated as such. If he doesn't treat you well in the beginning ladies...he never will. Stop trying to think you can change him, that's not happening either.
Men, stop being so damn lazy. Women love to be intimate with you just as much as you love it as well. A simple replacement of your nasty text messages with something a bit more subtle will win you extra "perks" that night. Trust us. A woman will be more likely to carry a "Wow, you look absolutely amazing today and I am so blessed to be your man" through their entire day than a "Baby, I can't wait for you to get home so I can do you all night". As much as you wish the second was a turn on...she probably just got completely turned off. So realize the communication difference. (Women, this applies to you too. Men do enjoy the romance, but spice it up for him too. Make him feel wanted. If your man told you how beautiful you were...give him a little masculine "oomph" builder.)
You can thank me later.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
The Friend Zone
So the other day a friend of mine came to me for advice about an encounter he had with a young lady and the discussion of what I like to call the "friend zone" appeared. For those who are unfamiliar, the friend zone is the special categorized box that women place their guy friends in. This "zone" is usually an asexual, friends only, nothing romantic about it zone. Call it a no-fun-zone if you will.
Either way, it seems as if women are more apt to put men in the friend zone than men are to put women there. For some reason or the other (I'm going to blame it on biology), men have a hard time being "just friends" with a woman. Seriously, there's no way to refute this. I've tried. Women, think of your guy friends. Straight guy friends. At some point in your friendship was there some sort of line crossed? An odd conversation? A drunken night? If you say no, you are LYING! It may have been a passing moment, but your guy friend has thought about it, at least once, if not more. Men, don't deny it.
As women, we are able to distinctly categorize men though into friends and non-friends. Our nature allows us to see men as non-sexual objects from time to time, thus the conception of the friend zone. So let's say you start talking to a guy and you are friends, I am not a gambling woman, but I would put money on it that your guy friend will never transpire into your boyfriend. Hollywood movies lie. It's more common to hear women say, "Oh we met on the top of Mt. Everest" than to hear them say "Oh we were just friends and one day decided to be more." It just doesn't happen that way. And this is why...
Guys, once a woman has relegated you to "friend" status, you've lost any chance of being intimate with her, simply for the reasons I'm about to point out. Women enjoy being mysterious with men they date. They like dating a man that does not know much about them. Does not know their past mistakes, their past history, their deepest darkest secrets. So why would they date their guy friend who has seen almost every single f'up they did in their dating career? Where's the mystery there? This guy probably knows ALL the dumb stuff you did, because he was your confidente in you time of men dilemmas. He was your listening ear, the person you admitted all your flaws, all your mistakes to in dating. Therefore, it becomes very hard for women to separate that person from the friend realm into the potential husband realm.
Now I'm not going to make any new friends by the post, simply because most people will raise their arms in disgust and claim that friendship is the basis for a relationship. I 100% agree. Friendship is the building blocks. However, friendship with the intent of building that foundation into something more is the key. If there was never that intent on the female side, it's hard to fabricate that intent later down the line.
I think many time women have a fanciful idea that love is this magically romantic occurrence. Where two people see each other across a room and are instantly the most disgustingly in love couple in the universe. And this is why the friend zone exists. Women are not in-tuned to the concept of love "growing" on someone. Instead, many women grew up with the fairly mythical idea that love will just slap them up side the face and they'll live happily ever after. However, the women who have realized that fanciful thoughts of falling in love don't usually occur (though I will admit, fate has proven that sometimes it does), are the ones who do have that best friend that blossoms into a loving and lasting partnership.
So women...open up your friend zone, and instead of containing it into a compartmentalized box, expand it into an ocean of possibilities. You may be surprised to have your happily ever after, after all.
Either way, it seems as if women are more apt to put men in the friend zone than men are to put women there. For some reason or the other (I'm going to blame it on biology), men have a hard time being "just friends" with a woman. Seriously, there's no way to refute this. I've tried. Women, think of your guy friends. Straight guy friends. At some point in your friendship was there some sort of line crossed? An odd conversation? A drunken night? If you say no, you are LYING! It may have been a passing moment, but your guy friend has thought about it, at least once, if not more. Men, don't deny it.
As women, we are able to distinctly categorize men though into friends and non-friends. Our nature allows us to see men as non-sexual objects from time to time, thus the conception of the friend zone. So let's say you start talking to a guy and you are friends, I am not a gambling woman, but I would put money on it that your guy friend will never transpire into your boyfriend. Hollywood movies lie. It's more common to hear women say, "Oh we met on the top of Mt. Everest" than to hear them say "Oh we were just friends and one day decided to be more." It just doesn't happen that way. And this is why...
Guys, once a woman has relegated you to "friend" status, you've lost any chance of being intimate with her, simply for the reasons I'm about to point out. Women enjoy being mysterious with men they date. They like dating a man that does not know much about them. Does not know their past mistakes, their past history, their deepest darkest secrets. So why would they date their guy friend who has seen almost every single f'up they did in their dating career? Where's the mystery there? This guy probably knows ALL the dumb stuff you did, because he was your confidente in you time of men dilemmas. He was your listening ear, the person you admitted all your flaws, all your mistakes to in dating. Therefore, it becomes very hard for women to separate that person from the friend realm into the potential husband realm.
Now I'm not going to make any new friends by the post, simply because most people will raise their arms in disgust and claim that friendship is the basis for a relationship. I 100% agree. Friendship is the building blocks. However, friendship with the intent of building that foundation into something more is the key. If there was never that intent on the female side, it's hard to fabricate that intent later down the line.
I think many time women have a fanciful idea that love is this magically romantic occurrence. Where two people see each other across a room and are instantly the most disgustingly in love couple in the universe. And this is why the friend zone exists. Women are not in-tuned to the concept of love "growing" on someone. Instead, many women grew up with the fairly mythical idea that love will just slap them up side the face and they'll live happily ever after. However, the women who have realized that fanciful thoughts of falling in love don't usually occur (though I will admit, fate has proven that sometimes it does), are the ones who do have that best friend that blossoms into a loving and lasting partnership.
So women...open up your friend zone, and instead of containing it into a compartmentalized box, expand it into an ocean of possibilities. You may be surprised to have your happily ever after, after all.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
The Lyrics of a Perfect Man
It's not uncommon for people to hear me cite my favorite movie quote when it comes to finding love.
"I want to be his perfect verse over a tight beat." Quoted from the movie 'Brown Sugar'. By far and away this is the one quote that has summed up what I am searching for in someone. It ties in my love of music/hip hop in general and it describes the rhythimical ups, downs, and in-betweens that occur when you mix spoken word over a killer beat.
So I often make analogies to my dating escapades through the medium of music. When I was sitting in my car the other day driving down Boulevard East I caught myself flipping through my XM radio station pre-sets. I originally had my radio on one station and a song ended, and another one came on that I felt "lukewarm" about. It was one of those songs that have recently been played to death, but I still had an inkling of liking for the song. So then I thought, well let's see what's on this station and see if there's another song. (I know ALL of you have done this before so don't lie. You search the stations to see if something 'better' is on. We're all guilty.) And sure enough, Nas's new song, Hero was on (which I love). Sitting there pleased with my uncanny ability to realize that there had to be a better song on, a sinking feeling fell over me. Had I been doing this with men in my life? Constantly switching them out, or testing them, overplaying them until I can flip the dial and find something new and exciting? Pattern. Repeat.
Then I had all of those emotional feeling bad about myself feelings where I felt like an evil, monstrous woman who treated men like the next best song on the radio. After a few seconds of self-directed criticism, I began to think deeper.
What is this need for instant gratification now? It's saturated every aspect of our lives, including our relationships with people. I look at my parents and they grew up in a small town, so options of meeting people were far more limited than they are now. And they are madly in love! So why is it that our generation as ALLLLLLL of these endless options of finding someone they "connect" with, yet divorce rates are higher, relationships end quicker, people are serial daters and the list goes on and on.
So to continue with the music metaphors/analogies, why can't the partners we seek be more like our favorite CD that we always go back to, regardless of how many times we've listened to it like Nas' Illmatic, or Biggie's Ready to Die or insert your own title here. Or better yet, to keep the variety, why can't it be your favorite mixtape/cd? The one in which you've compiled all of your all time favorite songs into one collaborative genius masterpiece suited just for you and your tastes.
Maybe that's what I'm endlessly searching for. Not just the man who has the best song at that current moment, but rather the man who has learned my own unique compilation that I never get tired of.
"I want to be his perfect verse over a tight beat." Quoted from the movie 'Brown Sugar'. By far and away this is the one quote that has summed up what I am searching for in someone. It ties in my love of music/hip hop in general and it describes the rhythimical ups, downs, and in-betweens that occur when you mix spoken word over a killer beat.
So I often make analogies to my dating escapades through the medium of music. When I was sitting in my car the other day driving down Boulevard East I caught myself flipping through my XM radio station pre-sets. I originally had my radio on one station and a song ended, and another one came on that I felt "lukewarm" about. It was one of those songs that have recently been played to death, but I still had an inkling of liking for the song. So then I thought, well let's see what's on this station and see if there's another song. (I know ALL of you have done this before so don't lie. You search the stations to see if something 'better' is on. We're all guilty.) And sure enough, Nas's new song, Hero was on (which I love). Sitting there pleased with my uncanny ability to realize that there had to be a better song on, a sinking feeling fell over me. Had I been doing this with men in my life? Constantly switching them out, or testing them, overplaying them until I can flip the dial and find something new and exciting? Pattern. Repeat.
Then I had all of those emotional feeling bad about myself feelings where I felt like an evil, monstrous woman who treated men like the next best song on the radio. After a few seconds of self-directed criticism, I began to think deeper.
What is this need for instant gratification now? It's saturated every aspect of our lives, including our relationships with people. I look at my parents and they grew up in a small town, so options of meeting people were far more limited than they are now. And they are madly in love! So why is it that our generation as ALLLLLLL of these endless options of finding someone they "connect" with, yet divorce rates are higher, relationships end quicker, people are serial daters and the list goes on and on.
So to continue with the music metaphors/analogies, why can't the partners we seek be more like our favorite CD that we always go back to, regardless of how many times we've listened to it like Nas' Illmatic, or Biggie's Ready to Die or insert your own title here. Or better yet, to keep the variety, why can't it be your favorite mixtape/cd? The one in which you've compiled all of your all time favorite songs into one collaborative genius masterpiece suited just for you and your tastes.
Maybe that's what I'm endlessly searching for. Not just the man who has the best song at that current moment, but rather the man who has learned my own unique compilation that I never get tired of.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Third Date Syndrome
So my guy friends are my infinite source of people who tell me what I do wrong. Particularly with dating. But my really good guy friends don't point out what I do wrong, they just merely point out what I do, since apparently I'm basically drowning in the sea of dating that sometimes I cannot even see my own sad dating patterns. Therefore, the coining of "Kassandra's 3rd Date Syndrome" was inspired by my chronic, one strike, two strikes you're out rule.
Let me explain...
Typically, when a man asks me out, I will say yes. I do this simply because I think it takes a lot of courage for a man to put himself out therefore in front of a woman who he may or may not know, but he wants to take the risk of asking her if he can get to know her better by simply asking for one evening of her time. Call me a sucker, but every woman loves to be asked out by a random stranger or someone she secretly has a crush on because simply said, it's attention. Aimed at you. So, I will usually go on a first date with someone, pending any strange occurrences/personality traits that may prevent me from doing so. This would include men who work in "retail" (see a few posts down...), men who I know are only interested in sex, men who have tried to hit on my friend in front of me (see a few posts down as well...), and I'm sure there's other strange things I could list based on prior experience, but then that would ruin the future fun of reading my blog posts now wouldn't it?
So, I'm a firm believer that no one is "truly" themselves on a first date. As Americans and general human beings, we're very big on first impressions. Therefore, we usually try our best to put on a good show for someone we're interested in. Plus, first dates are usually fairly tense, especially if they are blind dates, or online dates where you're meeting someone face to face for the first time. It's nervewracking and it'll make any grown adult run for cover. Therefore, the second date is key.
If I go on a date with someone and I'm attracted "enough" and interested "enough" meaning I didn't want to stab my eyes out from boredom or throw a brown paper bag over the guy, then I will give them the second shot. Usually second dates are more low-key. You know what/who to expect when you open the door, it's not that "surprise-I-look-nothing-like-my-picture" look. Instead it's that "Ahh...I remember you. Let's see what you're really like." So, word of advice for women, always go somewhere you can talk, one-on-one with a guy for the second date. A coffee shop, a park, bar, whatever. Any place that you can dig deep. Attraction, or at least semi-attraction got you this far, it's the personality that will keep you, so make sure it's there.
Unfortunately, the second date is where I get stuck. I apparently have super-extraordinary expectations for men's personality. I have found a few men that I truly connect on that mental level. A man that can discuss relevant issues, discuss his life with vibrance and can make me laugh so hard that it hurts. It takes a lot, and I know this. So the bar is high due to these few men that have encountered my life, so I know the odds are against me more often than not. However, once you have that mental/spiritual connection with someone where they just seem to "get" you, it's impossible to forget. Therefore, I'm usually disappointed by second dates.
Some men I've gone out with just turn out to not be as interesting as I thought. Or they are men who think they are interesting, in fact, they think they're the ONLY interesting thing, so that's all they talk about. More often than not though second dates with guys that I've dated simply just don't move past the initial "sparks" phase. Many times you look at someone and you think, "Ok, not it for the relationship zone, but he's a good guy." That's usually what happens. I meet good, decent men. However, there's not enough there to keep me engaged. And I know if I'm not engaged or at least curious, then, well...boredom sinks in.
Now after reading these blog posts you would probably assuming that I'm a fairly confident, strong-willed woman (or at least I hope you think flattering thoughts like that). However, this is one of the rare instances where I literally crawl back into grade school mode. See, I find it hard to tell a guy that there just wasn't something there. To make myself feel better I find it's better to get the guy to hate me, or walk away from me simply so he doesn't think I thought something was "wrong" with him. Because trust me, I know the wrong-ness is all on me. So...third date syndrome begins.
The guy will call, ask me out. I'm busy. He'll call to talk. Short responses. He'll message me online. I'll pretend I didn't see it. I'll half-heartedly make plans but then come up with a reason not to come, or just forget the plans and days go by. Awful. I know. Trust me, if I go to hell for anything, it may be this. I know it's "leading" someone on and I know I should just be upfront, but I just can't help it. I become this vague, mysterious, inaccessible woman. Which to me, should piss any man off for being so indifferent. However, men are odd, just like women are, and honestly this indifference keeps them running back for more. Finally, after months of trying, they walk away, and by then I've probably already had third date syndrome with 2-3 other men. And that is why I date often, but love little.
(Disclaimer: If you are an ex-second date man of mine, I apologize you found out this way...but please know it's me, not you that was wrong. And yes, feel free to call me a bitch. I probably deserve it.)
Let me explain...
Typically, when a man asks me out, I will say yes. I do this simply because I think it takes a lot of courage for a man to put himself out therefore in front of a woman who he may or may not know, but he wants to take the risk of asking her if he can get to know her better by simply asking for one evening of her time. Call me a sucker, but every woman loves to be asked out by a random stranger or someone she secretly has a crush on because simply said, it's attention. Aimed at you. So, I will usually go on a first date with someone, pending any strange occurrences/personality traits that may prevent me from doing so. This would include men who work in "retail" (see a few posts down...), men who I know are only interested in sex, men who have tried to hit on my friend in front of me (see a few posts down as well...), and I'm sure there's other strange things I could list based on prior experience, but then that would ruin the future fun of reading my blog posts now wouldn't it?
So, I'm a firm believer that no one is "truly" themselves on a first date. As Americans and general human beings, we're very big on first impressions. Therefore, we usually try our best to put on a good show for someone we're interested in. Plus, first dates are usually fairly tense, especially if they are blind dates, or online dates where you're meeting someone face to face for the first time. It's nervewracking and it'll make any grown adult run for cover. Therefore, the second date is key.
If I go on a date with someone and I'm attracted "enough" and interested "enough" meaning I didn't want to stab my eyes out from boredom or throw a brown paper bag over the guy, then I will give them the second shot. Usually second dates are more low-key. You know what/who to expect when you open the door, it's not that "surprise-I-look-nothing-like-my-picture" look. Instead it's that "Ahh...I remember you. Let's see what you're really like." So, word of advice for women, always go somewhere you can talk, one-on-one with a guy for the second date. A coffee shop, a park, bar, whatever. Any place that you can dig deep. Attraction, or at least semi-attraction got you this far, it's the personality that will keep you, so make sure it's there.
Unfortunately, the second date is where I get stuck. I apparently have super-extraordinary expectations for men's personality. I have found a few men that I truly connect on that mental level. A man that can discuss relevant issues, discuss his life with vibrance and can make me laugh so hard that it hurts. It takes a lot, and I know this. So the bar is high due to these few men that have encountered my life, so I know the odds are against me more often than not. However, once you have that mental/spiritual connection with someone where they just seem to "get" you, it's impossible to forget. Therefore, I'm usually disappointed by second dates.
Some men I've gone out with just turn out to not be as interesting as I thought. Or they are men who think they are interesting, in fact, they think they're the ONLY interesting thing, so that's all they talk about. More often than not though second dates with guys that I've dated simply just don't move past the initial "sparks" phase. Many times you look at someone and you think, "Ok, not it for the relationship zone, but he's a good guy." That's usually what happens. I meet good, decent men. However, there's not enough there to keep me engaged. And I know if I'm not engaged or at least curious, then, well...boredom sinks in.
Now after reading these blog posts you would probably assuming that I'm a fairly confident, strong-willed woman (or at least I hope you think flattering thoughts like that). However, this is one of the rare instances where I literally crawl back into grade school mode. See, I find it hard to tell a guy that there just wasn't something there. To make myself feel better I find it's better to get the guy to hate me, or walk away from me simply so he doesn't think I thought something was "wrong" with him. Because trust me, I know the wrong-ness is all on me. So...third date syndrome begins.
The guy will call, ask me out. I'm busy. He'll call to talk. Short responses. He'll message me online. I'll pretend I didn't see it. I'll half-heartedly make plans but then come up with a reason not to come, or just forget the plans and days go by. Awful. I know. Trust me, if I go to hell for anything, it may be this. I know it's "leading" someone on and I know I should just be upfront, but I just can't help it. I become this vague, mysterious, inaccessible woman. Which to me, should piss any man off for being so indifferent. However, men are odd, just like women are, and honestly this indifference keeps them running back for more. Finally, after months of trying, they walk away, and by then I've probably already had third date syndrome with 2-3 other men. And that is why I date often, but love little.
(Disclaimer: If you are an ex-second date man of mine, I apologize you found out this way...but please know it's me, not you that was wrong. And yes, feel free to call me a bitch. I probably deserve it.)
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Swimming Pools versus Oceans
So last summer I was dating this guy Ben, and now we're good buddies. This blog post came to mind mainly because I just received a text from him saying he was in the city "with the wifey". Ben had become my single buddy in crime over the past year. Him and I knew well enough not to actually go out to bars, clubs, etc. together because as Ben said it best, "You just don't take sand to the beach." However, we were always each other's counselors in terms of the myriad of crazy other single-somethings that we dated and Ben was always the first person to tell me exactly what I was doing wrong, and was always brutally honest about it. Trust me. If Ben wasn't such a good friend and I didn't trust his opinion he would have put me in tears at some of the things he's said. Either that or he would've gotten a slap in the face. But, more often than not he was right.
Anyways, I'm happy for Ben. Sort of. I feel lost now. My single buddy just moved into the land of couple-dom. The place I'm striving to be, but simply cannot manage to get there. I'm sure Ben will have a good explanation for me. Such as I'm naive, or I let people take advantage of me, or that I get too attached to a guy. All of which he's said to me before. Either way, I know I've made plenty of mistakes, but hopefully I've learned from most of them, and if I haven't, hopefully I find a man that just absolutely loves those flaws in my judgement.
Now the title of this blog post is probably confusing right now. But the text from Ben reminding me of a book he told me to read last summer called "The Way of the Superior Man" by David Deida. I highly recommend this book to men and women. Men, read it simply because it will help you realize your own individual purpose in life and women, read it because it will reaffirm that the way you communicate is not completely crazy.
This author, David Deida's basic underlying premise is that men and women alike either have a masculine, feminine or a mixture of both inner core. However, he is quick to state that the mixed core is usually very rare and that most of us learn towards one core or the other. And these cores should not be mixed up with gender or sex. I almost wish he came up with a different naming device simply because of the loaded nature of terming something masculine or feminine. Regardless, that's his premise. And based on what type of core you have, you are attracted to someone who has the opposite core of what you have. Then he goes on to describe some scenarios which I thought to be quite telling of interactions between men and women.
My favorite analogy/observation in the book was regarding the way men and women communicate. Deida said that the best way to describe it is that when men speak, they mean what they say. When women speak, they mean what they say in that moment. Men, how many times has a woman said in the heat of an argument "I hate you!". Probably more often than you'd like to admit right? Well simply put, that's what she was feeling that split second moment of time. It's rare that you will hear a man in the middle of an argument simply burst out that sentiment. Mainly because men tend to think out what they say more. To men, their word is their life, so they are very careful with their words. To women, their emotions are their life, so their words reflect their inner emotions.
Now don't jump to any weird sexist conclusions in that women are emotional and men are straightforward and strong. That's not the point of this analogy. No one will disagree that men and women communicate differently. To me, this was the best description of that discrepancy in communication that I have heard up to this day.
The other analogy that Deida used was in terms of swimming pools and oceans (hence the title of the blog...I promised there was a reason). Because men do not really know how to communicate their emotions, they tend to compartmentalize women's words/feelings, or as Deida says, they treat their emotions like a swimming pool. In reality though, women's words and emotions are more like the ebb and flow of the ocean. They are expanse and come and go with no real pattern or rhyme, or reason. But they are there and they are constantly flowing back and forth, side to side and all around. Simply put, you cannot contain a woman's emotions, and as a man you should respect and understand a woman's intuitive nature to let her emotions guide her life. So see women, we're not nuts.
Now men, this is not to say that you should bow down to every emotion that a woman goes through. Deida also believes that sometimes the emotional rollercoasters that us women put you on are simply tests, or challenges. A good woman, a woman that loves you, will challenge you, will inspire you to become a better man.
However, women need to heed this advice as well. Do not settle for a man that will not inspire and challenge you to become a better woman day after day. Women, I know we are strong and can inspire and challenge our ownselves, but there is something amazing about the way a man can gently challenge and urge you to better yourself for yourself. If you find a man like that, don't ever let him go. Constantly challenge each other day in and day out so that you are always in constant evolution. This way, you will never be bored in your relationship, simply because you are evolving into new, beautiful and different person daily.
Anyways, I'm happy for Ben. Sort of. I feel lost now. My single buddy just moved into the land of couple-dom. The place I'm striving to be, but simply cannot manage to get there. I'm sure Ben will have a good explanation for me. Such as I'm naive, or I let people take advantage of me, or that I get too attached to a guy. All of which he's said to me before. Either way, I know I've made plenty of mistakes, but hopefully I've learned from most of them, and if I haven't, hopefully I find a man that just absolutely loves those flaws in my judgement.
Now the title of this blog post is probably confusing right now. But the text from Ben reminding me of a book he told me to read last summer called "The Way of the Superior Man" by David Deida. I highly recommend this book to men and women. Men, read it simply because it will help you realize your own individual purpose in life and women, read it because it will reaffirm that the way you communicate is not completely crazy.
This author, David Deida's basic underlying premise is that men and women alike either have a masculine, feminine or a mixture of both inner core. However, he is quick to state that the mixed core is usually very rare and that most of us learn towards one core or the other. And these cores should not be mixed up with gender or sex. I almost wish he came up with a different naming device simply because of the loaded nature of terming something masculine or feminine. Regardless, that's his premise. And based on what type of core you have, you are attracted to someone who has the opposite core of what you have. Then he goes on to describe some scenarios which I thought to be quite telling of interactions between men and women.
My favorite analogy/observation in the book was regarding the way men and women communicate. Deida said that the best way to describe it is that when men speak, they mean what they say. When women speak, they mean what they say in that moment. Men, how many times has a woman said in the heat of an argument "I hate you!". Probably more often than you'd like to admit right? Well simply put, that's what she was feeling that split second moment of time. It's rare that you will hear a man in the middle of an argument simply burst out that sentiment. Mainly because men tend to think out what they say more. To men, their word is their life, so they are very careful with their words. To women, their emotions are their life, so their words reflect their inner emotions.
Now don't jump to any weird sexist conclusions in that women are emotional and men are straightforward and strong. That's not the point of this analogy. No one will disagree that men and women communicate differently. To me, this was the best description of that discrepancy in communication that I have heard up to this day.
The other analogy that Deida used was in terms of swimming pools and oceans (hence the title of the blog...I promised there was a reason). Because men do not really know how to communicate their emotions, they tend to compartmentalize women's words/feelings, or as Deida says, they treat their emotions like a swimming pool. In reality though, women's words and emotions are more like the ebb and flow of the ocean. They are expanse and come and go with no real pattern or rhyme, or reason. But they are there and they are constantly flowing back and forth, side to side and all around. Simply put, you cannot contain a woman's emotions, and as a man you should respect and understand a woman's intuitive nature to let her emotions guide her life. So see women, we're not nuts.
Now men, this is not to say that you should bow down to every emotion that a woman goes through. Deida also believes that sometimes the emotional rollercoasters that us women put you on are simply tests, or challenges. A good woman, a woman that loves you, will challenge you, will inspire you to become a better man.
However, women need to heed this advice as well. Do not settle for a man that will not inspire and challenge you to become a better woman day after day. Women, I know we are strong and can inspire and challenge our ownselves, but there is something amazing about the way a man can gently challenge and urge you to better yourself for yourself. If you find a man like that, don't ever let him go. Constantly challenge each other day in and day out so that you are always in constant evolution. This way, you will never be bored in your relationship, simply because you are evolving into new, beautiful and different person daily.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Why are you single?...and other great questions
Apparently there are only a few pressing questions that cross a man's mind when they are asking someone for a date. Right up there with 'what's your favorite color?' and 'Do you like the Yankees or the Mets?' comes the question, "So, why are you single?"
Ok, let me take a deep breath before I vent on this one, because even seeing the question gets my agitated side going. And...exhale.
Normally when I see that question some smart answer comes into my head. However, I find it hard to be completely bitchy to someone I don't particular know. (Oh who am I kidding...that's never stopped me.) Hence the blank stares and wide eyes when I provide these gentlemen with a less than anticipated response to their question.
I'm sure more polite women would say some sugar-coated answer like "Oh, I just haven't found the right man for me" (when she knows full well she met a good man before, she just blew it with him) or "I just got out of a bad relationship and just started dating" (lies...you've been dating for years now, and a bad date last week doesn't count as your last 'bad relationship'). Either way, women tend to skirt around this question more than they do the 'how much do you weigh' question. Either way, this, much like the weight question forces women to examine and critique their favorite person in the whole world...themselves!
Hopefully men don't realize what they are doing when they ask this question (if they do, then shame on us for playing!). Simply because women will rarely, if ever, put the blame on themselves. Displacing blame is our favorite activity in the world, because it makes us look shiny and beautiful since we never have to take the full brunt of the dents in life. Therefore, the reason we are single, is never, and I mean never, our fault. It's always the wrong man, the wrong time, the wrong place, the wrong circumstance and ultimately the wrong universe that caused our unfortunate single-hood. Got it? Ok, now that you are forewarned to not believe any of the reasons I may give simply because of my gender's flaw of never admitting when we're wrong, you can't say I didn't tell you so.
However...bottomline is this. Why am I single? Honestly, if I knew that answer, I probably wouldn't be single now would I? If I knew every trick at being fabulous and knew where all of the fabulous, absolutely one-of-a-kind, perfect for me in all ways man was, then I wouldn't be single. Unfortunately I am not a deity. (Go ahead, breathe a sigh of relief. I just did too). Therefore, the answer "I don't know." is absolutely sufficient. Because reality is, as women we DON'T know! This is probably one of the only things we don't know by the way, just so we're clear on that one. And the reason why we don't know is mainly because a lot of us women don't even really know what we want from a man.
Now men, that doesn't mean we don't have ideas of what we want. We do. Trust me, most women have their wedding day planned, if that doesn't show you what kind of ideas we have then I don't know what will. Either way, the fact is, as women many of us grew up with this sensationalized version of what falling in love and being in a long committed relationship truly is. You'd think though after women have been in at least one long term relationship they would realize that the butterflies and weak in your knees feeling coupled with this yearning and longing for another person is not ideal. Yes, it happens and yes it's re-kindled from here to there. But for the most part, any good long term relationship is about comfort. The comfort that someone can provide simply by being themselves and being near you. As much as I would like to believe that love is equivalent to passion, in some moments it is. But the giant overaching theme to love, real love, as I have learned is summed up in this quote (which sadly enough I read on a picture frame being sold at Kohl's the other day...)
"To love someone is to learn the song that is in that person's heart and to sing it to them when they have forgotten."
You can't get a better explanation that that. Simply it's that person that reminds you of who you are and what you can become in life. So men, instead of asking a woman why she hasn't found the person that has learned her song, take a bold step. Ask her what the first note of that song is.
Ok, let me take a deep breath before I vent on this one, because even seeing the question gets my agitated side going. And...exhale.
Normally when I see that question some smart answer comes into my head. However, I find it hard to be completely bitchy to someone I don't particular know. (Oh who am I kidding...that's never stopped me.) Hence the blank stares and wide eyes when I provide these gentlemen with a less than anticipated response to their question.
I'm sure more polite women would say some sugar-coated answer like "Oh, I just haven't found the right man for me" (when she knows full well she met a good man before, she just blew it with him) or "I just got out of a bad relationship and just started dating" (lies...you've been dating for years now, and a bad date last week doesn't count as your last 'bad relationship'). Either way, women tend to skirt around this question more than they do the 'how much do you weigh' question. Either way, this, much like the weight question forces women to examine and critique their favorite person in the whole world...themselves!
Hopefully men don't realize what they are doing when they ask this question (if they do, then shame on us for playing!). Simply because women will rarely, if ever, put the blame on themselves. Displacing blame is our favorite activity in the world, because it makes us look shiny and beautiful since we never have to take the full brunt of the dents in life. Therefore, the reason we are single, is never, and I mean never, our fault. It's always the wrong man, the wrong time, the wrong place, the wrong circumstance and ultimately the wrong universe that caused our unfortunate single-hood. Got it? Ok, now that you are forewarned to not believe any of the reasons I may give simply because of my gender's flaw of never admitting when we're wrong, you can't say I didn't tell you so.
However...bottomline is this. Why am I single? Honestly, if I knew that answer, I probably wouldn't be single now would I? If I knew every trick at being fabulous and knew where all of the fabulous, absolutely one-of-a-kind, perfect for me in all ways man was, then I wouldn't be single. Unfortunately I am not a deity. (Go ahead, breathe a sigh of relief. I just did too). Therefore, the answer "I don't know." is absolutely sufficient. Because reality is, as women we DON'T know! This is probably one of the only things we don't know by the way, just so we're clear on that one. And the reason why we don't know is mainly because a lot of us women don't even really know what we want from a man.
Now men, that doesn't mean we don't have ideas of what we want. We do. Trust me, most women have their wedding day planned, if that doesn't show you what kind of ideas we have then I don't know what will. Either way, the fact is, as women many of us grew up with this sensationalized version of what falling in love and being in a long committed relationship truly is. You'd think though after women have been in at least one long term relationship they would realize that the butterflies and weak in your knees feeling coupled with this yearning and longing for another person is not ideal. Yes, it happens and yes it's re-kindled from here to there. But for the most part, any good long term relationship is about comfort. The comfort that someone can provide simply by being themselves and being near you. As much as I would like to believe that love is equivalent to passion, in some moments it is. But the giant overaching theme to love, real love, as I have learned is summed up in this quote (which sadly enough I read on a picture frame being sold at Kohl's the other day...)
"To love someone is to learn the song that is in that person's heart and to sing it to them when they have forgotten."
You can't get a better explanation that that. Simply it's that person that reminds you of who you are and what you can become in life. So men, instead of asking a woman why she hasn't found the person that has learned her song, take a bold step. Ask her what the first note of that song is.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
It could have only gone up from here...Right?
When you date online you typically receive some of the same standard questions, such as what do you do, what do you enjoy doing, why are you single (another blog about this dumb question to be added soon by the way...) and the ultimate kicker, what's your worst and best date ever?
Well, since I haven't really had a first date that has actually completely blown me away (because I'd probably be with that person don't you think?) then I'm going to indulge you with some of my favorite "Best of Kassandra's Dating Disaster". I'm sure most of you will be laughing at me (not with me) after reading this, and then some of you, namely my mom will shake their head and wonder how her bright, charming and seemily intelligent daughter could have been led astray so far. (Sidebar: I really hope my mom doesn't read this because if she did, she'd never let me go out on a date by myself again. She'd personally hire some strange bodyguard type person to ensure I have my mace self-defense skills honed.)
Ok, so as most women in the NY/NJ metro area have learned is that good men usually are not found in bars. Yet all of us know at least ONE friend who met their husband at a bar or club so we secretly hold out hope that one evening when we're out some good looking stranger will stroll up to us, charm our socks off and become the future father of our children. I'm slowly learning that when it comes to women and dating mistakes it's like a five year old child and a hot stove. Your mom will always tell you "Don't touch the stove it's hot." But simply because 1) we don't care what mom says and 2) we want to learn ourselves, we usually end up touching the stove. Much like most women end up giving men their phone number at the club, knowing full well he's no good.
And on with Best of the Worst 3rd place Winner...
Sometimes it's hard to hear what men in the club are talking about when they are screaming in your ear over the loud thumping hip hop music. So as a woman in denial sometimes I'll casually act like I didn't hear what I thought I heard, though I know full well that man just said something stupid enough to get him slapped.
So one night, I was out with some of my guy friends who usually casually drop me like a bad habit once I get them in the club (since we all know it's a cardinal rule, if you're a herd of dudes, bring a lady...one with big boobs won't hurt you either and it's instant access to the club, hence my perpetual wing-woman status). Either way, I'm out on the dance floor doing my thing, thinking I'm looking pretty cute shaking my hips and tossing my hair around. (Here's a hint men, you know when a woman is flirting with you when she gives you "the eyes". You all know what I'm talking about) However, don't confuse "the eyes" with it's similar bed cousin "the stay the hell away from me eyes". The key to knowing the difference is whether or not a woman holds your gaze until you look directly at her or if she quickly looks the other way. If she quickly looks the other way she's only eyeing you because she's making sure she's doing all in her power to stay the hell away from you, so she's got you in her sights to avoid and potential accidental interaction. Got it?
Anyways, back to the story. So, I'm dancing and one particuarly fella got the eyes confused. Just to give you a mental picture the guy is about oh 2 inches taller than me...and I'm short and he's wearing one of those damn hoodies that I can't stand. You know, those crazy hoodies that came out that have all of those jacked up patterns on and looks like something you would've worn if you were 10 and grew up in the 80's. Those hoodies make me cringe. Oh and I must mention the giant pieces of fake gold around his neck as well as the $5 sunglasses from Walmart, and the giant jacked up smile. Got him in mind? Now you can understand the "stay the hell away from me eyes". So I'm casually keeping this guy in my sights simply to avoid crossing paths are walking near him. But...I lost track of him at one point. So I'm dancing thinking nothing of the matter, all the while drinking more (Hint: no more drinking when your guy friends go incognito on you). So all of a sudden I feel this guy come up behind me and start grinding on me. (Because apparently "asking" a lady to dance is out of the question up here). So I'm about 4 redbull and vodkas in, so I go along with it. Then I hear in my ear...
"Hey baby...your ass looks real sexy tonight. Can you give me your number?"
Dumbass me gives it to him.
Next day...
Random Dude: "Hey, it's me ___ (name deleted to protect the innocent) from the club last night. "
Me: (Awkwardness) "Oh hey how are you?"
Random Dude: "Good ma, good." (SIDEBAR: I HATE being called 'ma')
Me: "Ok, so what do you do for a living?"
Random Dude: "Oh, I work in 'retail'." (Quotes are there for a purpose)
So, he works in retail? Yes, a 30 year old man in retail. And note, he's not the only "retail" worker I've encountered. I met about 3 of them over a 2 month period at the club. Turns out "retail" is code word for "Oh, I sell drugs for a living and tell unsuspecting women at the club that I work in retail so they won't know any better". Let's just say I found this out the hard way...
Best of the Worst Runner Up
My friend Kate is one of a kind. Anytime Kate and I get together, dumb stuff happens. Real dumb stuff. Sometimes the stuff that happens to Kate sounds so absurd that most people would not believe half of the things that happen to her. However, I have witnessed half of these odd events, so yes dumb stuff happens to Kate, and me when I'm with Kate.
So it was New Year's Eve...maybe about a month after my ex and I had broken up. Therefore, I figured it would be the perfect time for a Kate and Kassandra adventure. So, to start our evening Kate and I drive to Louisville, KY for a house party (Kate lives in Lexington, KY and Louisville is about an hour from Lex). We get all the way to Louisville and we're at this awful house party of one of her friends. Around 10:30pm we decide to leave. So Kate starts texting this guy she had been seeing. He says he's going to bring a friend with him since Kate brought me. Perfect.
So, we get back to Lexington anxiously awaiting the arrival of our gentlemen company for the evening. In walks Kate's man, good looking kid. Then...in walks "Smooth". And no that's not a codename...that was seriously the name he said when he introduced himself. Trust me, nothing could be more unsmooth about this kid.
Kate and her man wander back to her bedroom to do God knows what, and so Smooth sits next to me on Kate's couch. I know Kate really likes that guy, so I figured I would take one for the team tonight and be a good sport. Smooth didn't make it easy. Series of questions from Smooth goes like this: (my answers in italics)
Well, since I haven't really had a first date that has actually completely blown me away (because I'd probably be with that person don't you think?) then I'm going to indulge you with some of my favorite "Best of Kassandra's Dating Disaster". I'm sure most of you will be laughing at me (not with me) after reading this, and then some of you, namely my mom will shake their head and wonder how her bright, charming and seemily intelligent daughter could have been led astray so far. (Sidebar: I really hope my mom doesn't read this because if she did, she'd never let me go out on a date by myself again. She'd personally hire some strange bodyguard type person to ensure I have my mace self-defense skills honed.)
Ok, so as most women in the NY/NJ metro area have learned is that good men usually are not found in bars. Yet all of us know at least ONE friend who met their husband at a bar or club so we secretly hold out hope that one evening when we're out some good looking stranger will stroll up to us, charm our socks off and become the future father of our children. I'm slowly learning that when it comes to women and dating mistakes it's like a five year old child and a hot stove. Your mom will always tell you "Don't touch the stove it's hot." But simply because 1) we don't care what mom says and 2) we want to learn ourselves, we usually end up touching the stove. Much like most women end up giving men their phone number at the club, knowing full well he's no good.
And on with Best of the Worst 3rd place Winner...
Sometimes it's hard to hear what men in the club are talking about when they are screaming in your ear over the loud thumping hip hop music. So as a woman in denial sometimes I'll casually act like I didn't hear what I thought I heard, though I know full well that man just said something stupid enough to get him slapped.
So one night, I was out with some of my guy friends who usually casually drop me like a bad habit once I get them in the club (since we all know it's a cardinal rule, if you're a herd of dudes, bring a lady...one with big boobs won't hurt you either and it's instant access to the club, hence my perpetual wing-woman status). Either way, I'm out on the dance floor doing my thing, thinking I'm looking pretty cute shaking my hips and tossing my hair around. (Here's a hint men, you know when a woman is flirting with you when she gives you "the eyes". You all know what I'm talking about) However, don't confuse "the eyes" with it's similar bed cousin "the stay the hell away from me eyes". The key to knowing the difference is whether or not a woman holds your gaze until you look directly at her or if she quickly looks the other way. If she quickly looks the other way she's only eyeing you because she's making sure she's doing all in her power to stay the hell away from you, so she's got you in her sights to avoid and potential accidental interaction. Got it?
Anyways, back to the story. So, I'm dancing and one particuarly fella got the eyes confused. Just to give you a mental picture the guy is about oh 2 inches taller than me...and I'm short and he's wearing one of those damn hoodies that I can't stand. You know, those crazy hoodies that came out that have all of those jacked up patterns on and looks like something you would've worn if you were 10 and grew up in the 80's. Those hoodies make me cringe. Oh and I must mention the giant pieces of fake gold around his neck as well as the $5 sunglasses from Walmart, and the giant jacked up smile. Got him in mind? Now you can understand the "stay the hell away from me eyes". So I'm casually keeping this guy in my sights simply to avoid crossing paths are walking near him. But...I lost track of him at one point. So I'm dancing thinking nothing of the matter, all the while drinking more (Hint: no more drinking when your guy friends go incognito on you). So all of a sudden I feel this guy come up behind me and start grinding on me. (Because apparently "asking" a lady to dance is out of the question up here). So I'm about 4 redbull and vodkas in, so I go along with it. Then I hear in my ear...
"Hey baby...your ass looks real sexy tonight. Can you give me your number?"
Dumbass me gives it to him.
Next day...
Random Dude: "Hey, it's me ___ (name deleted to protect the innocent) from the club last night. "
Me: (Awkwardness) "Oh hey how are you?"
Random Dude: "Good ma, good." (SIDEBAR: I HATE being called 'ma')
Me: "Ok, so what do you do for a living?"
Random Dude: "Oh, I work in 'retail'." (Quotes are there for a purpose)
So, he works in retail? Yes, a 30 year old man in retail. And note, he's not the only "retail" worker I've encountered. I met about 3 of them over a 2 month period at the club. Turns out "retail" is code word for "Oh, I sell drugs for a living and tell unsuspecting women at the club that I work in retail so they won't know any better". Let's just say I found this out the hard way...
Best of the Worst Runner Up
My friend Kate is one of a kind. Anytime Kate and I get together, dumb stuff happens. Real dumb stuff. Sometimes the stuff that happens to Kate sounds so absurd that most people would not believe half of the things that happen to her. However, I have witnessed half of these odd events, so yes dumb stuff happens to Kate, and me when I'm with Kate.
So it was New Year's Eve...maybe about a month after my ex and I had broken up. Therefore, I figured it would be the perfect time for a Kate and Kassandra adventure. So, to start our evening Kate and I drive to Louisville, KY for a house party (Kate lives in Lexington, KY and Louisville is about an hour from Lex). We get all the way to Louisville and we're at this awful house party of one of her friends. Around 10:30pm we decide to leave. So Kate starts texting this guy she had been seeing. He says he's going to bring a friend with him since Kate brought me. Perfect.
So, we get back to Lexington anxiously awaiting the arrival of our gentlemen company for the evening. In walks Kate's man, good looking kid. Then...in walks "Smooth". And no that's not a codename...that was seriously the name he said when he introduced himself. Trust me, nothing could be more unsmooth about this kid.
Kate and her man wander back to her bedroom to do God knows what, and so Smooth sits next to me on Kate's couch. I know Kate really likes that guy, so I figured I would take one for the team tonight and be a good sport. Smooth didn't make it easy. Series of questions from Smooth goes like this: (my answers in italics)
- What's your name? Kassandra
- Where are you staying tonight? My hotel room.
- Can I sleep there with you? Get me drunk enough and we will see.
So after that interesting interaction, Kate comes back out. Gameplan was Smooth and his boy were going to hit up a party then meet us at this particular club. Fair enough. Kate and I head to the club. Midnight comes. No show. 1am comes. No show. 2am...closing time. No show. By now, Kate is pissed. Me, I'm relieved.
Smooth calls. Kate answers. Smooth says him and his boy are coming by to Kate's apartment in an hour. Knock on the door. It's Smooth. Only Smooth. Perfect. Kate goes to her room for something. Smooth heads in for the kill...
"So, can I come back with you to your hotel and make sweet love all night to you?"
NO!
Seeing his efforts fail, Smooth smoothly follows Kate back to her bedroom. 2 minutes later Smooth leaves the apartment. Curious I ask Kate what the hell happened. She said, oh he tried to throw some line at me like he's sorry things didn't work with me and his friend so he wanted to see if I wanted to sleep with him...
Wow. Two friends in one night? Real smooth...
Needless to say, Smooth probably didn't get any that New Year's.
And the finale of them all...Best of the Worst 1st Prize Winner
So last summer I started talking to this guy, and I will use his real name because he deserves to have his face smeared all over the place. His name is Damian. (Could be a codename, not sure, he could've lied about that as well). He tells me that he's a photographer and that he used to do photography from Arista records. I saw some of his work on his myspace, seemed legit. So I met him for dinner. While we were at dinner he was talking about how he needed to hire a new assistant. So, I offered up the name of one of my mutal friends who had just moved to the city. (She was the roommate of a friend I went to school with and hadn't found a steady job yet). So I figured this would be perfect! I gave him her number and that was that.
So the next day he calls and says he paid my friend a visit since he wanted to explain the job to her in person and meet her. Ok...odd but ok. So he said after he was done talking to her he was headed out to my place. Fine. He arrives at my apartment I let him in, as he's getting settled my friend from grad school calls. Phone conversation paraphrased below:
Grad Friend: "Do you have company right now?"
Me: "Yes, why?"
Grad Friend: "Walk into another room."
Me: "Ok...what's up?"
Grad Friend:"I just wanted to let you know what kind of company you are keeping. So Damian came over to talk to my roommate and well, hate to break it to you, but he's not a 'photographer'. He actually came and handed my roommate a set of checks and a fake license and said, if you take these to the bank down the street there and cash these out, I'll give you $500."
Me:"Shit."
I walk out to my living room and I said (and forgive the coarse language, but it was deserved) "Get the fuck out of my apartment."
He did. And now I am scarred for life.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Dating Outside the Online
I consider myself a pioneer of sorts in the online dating world. When I was 14 years old I had my first online boyfriend. He lived in Utah, I lived in Ohio, we met once and that was for his senior prom. This also adds to my case that my mom is partially crazy since she had no issues with her daughter talking to a stranger who happened to be a 17 year old Mormon out in Utah. Add that one to the counseling file later in life as well.
I just always found it much easier to date people online, or at least find someone to date online. Part of this mentality in the beginning was my rampant insecurity of myself. I figured well I can just dazzle someone with my charismatic and endearing personality and then maybe that will compensate for my own self esteem and body issues when I met them in person. As the years progressed though I began to take better care of my body and became more confident in myself, however maybe some of those same insecurities are at bay and I'm in constant denial of the reason why I still brave through the drama of online dating.
Regardless, my new twenty-something reasoning for dating online...prescreening. Online dating is like having caller ID sometimes. You can see who's trying to talk to you, get a little information on them, see if they're cute, their education, job, etc. and if you aren't interested...you walk away. Or if they aren't interested in you...no harm, no foul.
However, one of my friends asked me this about what I considered to be my fabulous prescreening process. "Kassandra, don't you think that your 'prescreening' has made you into a window shopper, where you see all these 'ok' men, yet you never want to purchase one or get into a relationship with one of them, you just want to gaze at them and move onto the next window."
What an amazing analogy. Have I really become one of those women that are never satisfied because they keep looking for greener pastures on the other side? Part of me doesn't want to admit it, but maybe I have. I think a lot of times women have mental checklists about what type of man they expect to end up with. I'll raise my hand on that one. I can even think of online dating sites where I've actually listed that checklist as to not cause any confusion with the men approaching me.
Oftentimes I thought this was my way of circumventing unwanted attention from men I don't think I'll have any interest in. But what if I'm really just setting myself up for excluding that one man who may surprise me? Humbling thought to my pompous personality.
So how does a window shopper become a loyal customer? Where do I sign up for preferred membership with money saving coupons that will keep me coming back for more? I mean DSW has me hooked, why can't a man get me?
I would blame it on my internal ADD that I pretend doesn't occur in my head. I swear my mind is never on one track. For instance I'm writing this and also thinking in the back of mind about the cookies I was supposed to bake today. See...the train just jumped the track. But besides that, maybe I'm just like every other insecure woman in this world. I'm terrified of putting myself completely out there again.
Everyone has their own love baggage. Some can compartmentalize it into a nice neat carry-on bag, and others of us require an extra $150 at the ticket gate to check our mental bags over the required weight limit. Many say that time is the healer of all wounds, but sometimes I feel that finding love again may be my healer. Maybe the key to avoiding the continuous window shopping syndrome is to just open the damn door of the store and walk in...
I just always found it much easier to date people online, or at least find someone to date online. Part of this mentality in the beginning was my rampant insecurity of myself. I figured well I can just dazzle someone with my charismatic and endearing personality and then maybe that will compensate for my own self esteem and body issues when I met them in person. As the years progressed though I began to take better care of my body and became more confident in myself, however maybe some of those same insecurities are at bay and I'm in constant denial of the reason why I still brave through the drama of online dating.
Regardless, my new twenty-something reasoning for dating online...prescreening. Online dating is like having caller ID sometimes. You can see who's trying to talk to you, get a little information on them, see if they're cute, their education, job, etc. and if you aren't interested...you walk away. Or if they aren't interested in you...no harm, no foul.
However, one of my friends asked me this about what I considered to be my fabulous prescreening process. "Kassandra, don't you think that your 'prescreening' has made you into a window shopper, where you see all these 'ok' men, yet you never want to purchase one or get into a relationship with one of them, you just want to gaze at them and move onto the next window."
What an amazing analogy. Have I really become one of those women that are never satisfied because they keep looking for greener pastures on the other side? Part of me doesn't want to admit it, but maybe I have. I think a lot of times women have mental checklists about what type of man they expect to end up with. I'll raise my hand on that one. I can even think of online dating sites where I've actually listed that checklist as to not cause any confusion with the men approaching me.
Oftentimes I thought this was my way of circumventing unwanted attention from men I don't think I'll have any interest in. But what if I'm really just setting myself up for excluding that one man who may surprise me? Humbling thought to my pompous personality.
So how does a window shopper become a loyal customer? Where do I sign up for preferred membership with money saving coupons that will keep me coming back for more? I mean DSW has me hooked, why can't a man get me?
I would blame it on my internal ADD that I pretend doesn't occur in my head. I swear my mind is never on one track. For instance I'm writing this and also thinking in the back of mind about the cookies I was supposed to bake today. See...the train just jumped the track. But besides that, maybe I'm just like every other insecure woman in this world. I'm terrified of putting myself completely out there again.
Everyone has their own love baggage. Some can compartmentalize it into a nice neat carry-on bag, and others of us require an extra $150 at the ticket gate to check our mental bags over the required weight limit. Many say that time is the healer of all wounds, but sometimes I feel that finding love again may be my healer. Maybe the key to avoiding the continuous window shopping syndrome is to just open the damn door of the store and walk in...
Commuting is for Lovers
So, most people complain about their commutes in and out of the city. People commute to Manhattan from all over, whether it's from one of boroughs, NJ, Long Island, Pennsylvania, Connecticut, wherever...people usually know no distance when it comes to working in Manhattan. I am among the what I would consider bajillions of people who commute into the best city in the world.
However, unlike most people, I live for my commute. To me, nothing is better than seeing all of the new faces day in and day out. Looking at people and trying to examine their life story, creating my own tales of their struggles and aspirations. I'd like to believe that everyone in NYC has a story of why they are in NYC, whether it was by birth or by choice, people's history with being in NYC is utterly fascinating to me. NYC is just one of those places that regardless of where you are from, who you know, what your career path is or isn't, anyone can end up here. It's like being drawn to an undeniable magnetic force and once you're in, it's in you forever.
On my commute I also enjoy adding my own soundtrack to my daily bus and subway trips. My ipod ranges in mixes, but all of the complement my walk and my mood of the day. For instance, I woke up in a not so good mood the other week, so my music of choice was DMX's album, And Then There was X. To me, that's the best F U music out there. Definitely prepped me for my day. Then there was a day when I just wanted some good walking around NYC music, so I put on my mix of favorite John Legend songs. There's just something about his voice when you're walking in the city that just puts you at ease.
Now many people would argue that NYC has a soundtrack of it's own, which I whole-heartedly agree with. However...commuting has to be one of the quietest times of my day. Sitting on the bus, no one is talking (unless you have a rude busmate who ignores the no cell phone rule). And the subway, well it's the only other place besides an elevator where so many people are crammed into a small cubic space and speak of nothing. The silence is sometimes so deafening to my outgoing personality that the ipod noise in my ears keeps me from talking to the nearest stranger on the subway (which would completely horrify my mom if I did).
So, on my commute in and out of the city I've come to notice a few different things...
However, unlike most people, I live for my commute. To me, nothing is better than seeing all of the new faces day in and day out. Looking at people and trying to examine their life story, creating my own tales of their struggles and aspirations. I'd like to believe that everyone in NYC has a story of why they are in NYC, whether it was by birth or by choice, people's history with being in NYC is utterly fascinating to me. NYC is just one of those places that regardless of where you are from, who you know, what your career path is or isn't, anyone can end up here. It's like being drawn to an undeniable magnetic force and once you're in, it's in you forever.
On my commute I also enjoy adding my own soundtrack to my daily bus and subway trips. My ipod ranges in mixes, but all of the complement my walk and my mood of the day. For instance, I woke up in a not so good mood the other week, so my music of choice was DMX's album, And Then There was X. To me, that's the best F U music out there. Definitely prepped me for my day. Then there was a day when I just wanted some good walking around NYC music, so I put on my mix of favorite John Legend songs. There's just something about his voice when you're walking in the city that just puts you at ease.
Now many people would argue that NYC has a soundtrack of it's own, which I whole-heartedly agree with. However...commuting has to be one of the quietest times of my day. Sitting on the bus, no one is talking (unless you have a rude busmate who ignores the no cell phone rule). And the subway, well it's the only other place besides an elevator where so many people are crammed into a small cubic space and speak of nothing. The silence is sometimes so deafening to my outgoing personality that the ipod noise in my ears keeps me from talking to the nearest stranger on the subway (which would completely horrify my mom if I did).
So, on my commute in and out of the city I've come to notice a few different things...
- When I am at my bus stop in NJ, it always seems as if the last person to show up at the bus stop is always the person that jumps on the bus first, and on days where God wants a sense of humor that person will take the last seat on the bus, forcing me to stand the entire way into NYC.
- You should always try to sit in the window seat on the bus, simply for safety reasons. I can't even count how many women trudge through with 5 or 6 handbags filled with God knows what and pounds you on the side of the head as they walk by.
- Even worse is if you get stuck with an aisle seat and the bus becomes standing room only. It's almost a 99% chance that I'll get stuck with some random dude giving me a crotch height view (apparently men don't ever feel the need to stand facing forward, instead they would rather nearly teabag an unsuspecting lady).
- Once we get to Port Authority, apparently all kindergarten manners such as waiting your turn magically disappears. People in the back of the bus are in such a hurry to be the first ones off the bus, so they cram their way to the front and stand in the aisle thus throwing off the whole system of letting out one row at a time.
- Tourists really should only be allowed in the bus/train stations between the hours of 10am and 4pm and anytime after 8pm. The rush in the morning is huge...people pushing, walking fast, passing people on their left and right. And well, tourists unfortunately get trampled. (Yes, New Yorkers can identify tourists simply based on how slow you are walking, so fit in. Walk fast).
- Holding doors for ladies apparently died in the Northeast long before I came up here. It took me awhile to get used to the heavy doors leading to the subway from Port Authority hitting me face first. To avoid this, I've simply learned to walk with my hand out in front of me at a distance when I'm approaching that door. (To really throw off a New Yorker, especially a male New Yorker...hold this door for them. I can't even count how many "Wow, thank you" or gasps from shock there has been.)
- As you walk through the subway passageway underground at Port Authority (which has to be the worst invention in construction design ever by the way) I have noticed a few things...1) Apparently it's a hotbed for evangelists. My favorite one I think only preaches MWF though. 2) Everytime I round the corner to head down the ramp of terror (if you take this passageway you know what I mean...especially you ladies in the high heels), it smells like urine. Everyday. 3) There is some magical escalator that I have yet to find that transports people to the NRQW train whereas I'm too ignorant to find it, so I carry myself, my 20lb laptop bag and my 5lb purse up 5 flights of stairs.
- It's an ingrained habit for all New Yorkers commuting on the subway line to come down the steps, figure out which side their train is coming on, and then poke their head out on the tracks to see if their train is coming. Without fail, everyone does it. It's like seeing someone yawn forces you to yawn. When someone pokes their head out, we all do...it's like we're little groundhogs.
- Being on the subway is like being in my sociology laboratory. It's the best for people watching. The characters on there always make me smile...I hope that doesn't get me beat up one of these days.
Overall, my commute is much like the city. Interesting and yet it has all of these odd little annoyances, but you still love it all the same.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Sage dating advice from Mom...and Oprah.
If you have not had the pleasure of meeting my mother in person, or at least have heard me speak about her, then you're in for a treat. My mom is an amazing woman, was always there for me, and my parents have to be one of the most in love couples I have ever met. Their personalities complement each other so well it's uncanny. Literally my parents are one of the only reasons I continue on the conquest of finding the right mate, since I know it's possible...they obviously found it in each other.
My mother, is probably one of the most interesting characters in my life. I can only hope that I put my own daughter through the same craziness one day. For most of my mom's adult life she was a stay at home mom (which I am forever grateful for, since she was always around to help my brother and I with random things). Unfortunately, this translated into a deep love for all things Oprah. Hence, most of my advice from my mother is prefaced by the statement "You know what I saw on Oprah today..."
So, I'm used to receiving phone calls from my mother on a weekly basis in which there is some reference to my dating life. (Even though my mom claims she can never keep up with my many dates, she seems perpetually interested in them.) My mom's new thing with her dating advice is to make sure that I don't die of some awful disease (since she apparently thinks that one date with someone equals sex with them). So, she's always on the up and up on every single STD or protective device, via Oprah's breadth of knowledge. Therefore, my mom has felt the need leave me with this advice every weekend "Don't sleep with any strangers". Not anything like "Be Safe" or "Don't get mugged", just the underlying mom tone of "Try not to be slutty this weekend". Thanks Mom.
Then again this is the same mom who when I broke up with my ex and I flew back home from NJ to Ohio she left the very endearing gesture of a book on my bed. Until I read the title... my mom had bought me a book entitled "He's Just Not That Into You". Thanks for the boost of self-esteem mom, I'll be sure to mention that later when I'm sure to be in counseling from being traumatized by all the Oprah-isms.
My mother, is probably one of the most interesting characters in my life. I can only hope that I put my own daughter through the same craziness one day. For most of my mom's adult life she was a stay at home mom (which I am forever grateful for, since she was always around to help my brother and I with random things). Unfortunately, this translated into a deep love for all things Oprah. Hence, most of my advice from my mother is prefaced by the statement "You know what I saw on Oprah today..."
So, I'm used to receiving phone calls from my mother on a weekly basis in which there is some reference to my dating life. (Even though my mom claims she can never keep up with my many dates, she seems perpetually interested in them.) My mom's new thing with her dating advice is to make sure that I don't die of some awful disease (since she apparently thinks that one date with someone equals sex with them). So, she's always on the up and up on every single STD or protective device, via Oprah's breadth of knowledge. Therefore, my mom has felt the need leave me with this advice every weekend "Don't sleep with any strangers". Not anything like "Be Safe" or "Don't get mugged", just the underlying mom tone of "Try not to be slutty this weekend". Thanks Mom.
Then again this is the same mom who when I broke up with my ex and I flew back home from NJ to Ohio she left the very endearing gesture of a book on my bed. Until I read the title... my mom had bought me a book entitled "He's Just Not That Into You". Thanks for the boost of self-esteem mom, I'll be sure to mention that later when I'm sure to be in counseling from being traumatized by all the Oprah-isms.
Chivalry dead? Was it ever alive?
Ok, this has to be one of my biggest complaints about men, especially up on the East Coast. Sorry, I am allowed to make that claim since I have lived in the Midwest and the South and this really is only a trend up here in the Northeast...so get over it.
Anyways, back to my point. Where is chivalry? The courting a woman, taking her to a nice restaurant, a play, a park, the neighborhood cafe, hell anywhere other than your black leather couch in your bachelor pad. I cannot even count the amount of dates where the effort of putting together a first date was comparable to the effort my 7th grade boyfriend used when he would casually stroll by my locker before our first class.
Honestly, I make so many decisions in my daily life when it comes to work and my own daily habits that I am mentally exhausted by the time it comes to the question from a man "So what do you want to do?". Men...word of advice, don't EVER ask a woman that. Show initiative and plan something. Literally the minute a man asks me to make a decision about how he should spend his money on a date with me is the moment I've mentally checked off the idea that I now have complete and utter control. Contrary to most men's belief, that control is not something most women want. As long as we can control our OWN lives, that's usually enough for our daily schedules. So do yourself a favor and figure out what type of date I would be interested in.
Now, men, figuring out what type of date to go on...that's the trick. So don't lose me here. Stick with me. Golden information is about to ensue. Here's the trick to figuring out the "type" of date a woman wants...ready? Here it is...listen. I know you've heard that before, but it's true. Women have this uncanny knack of never directly stating exactly what it is they want. Part of it is uncertainty with what a woman wants, but the really smart women drop "hints" simply to see if you are PAYING ATTENTION. Men that pay attention, usually are asked for second, third, fourth, etc. dates. Really our code is not that hard to follow. For instance, here's an interaction, let's see if you can read between the lines and pay attention to what "type" of date I was asking for.
Kassandra: "Oh I absolutely love sports! I've never been to a game up here though since I grew up in Ohio."
Clueless Bachelor:"Yeah I'm a huge Knicks fan, I go to a lot of games. You know what, we should meet up for dinner before I go to this Saturday's game with my friend."
Seriously? Let's review. I said I love sports (which should be ANY man's fantasy). Secondly, I said I've never been to a game. Now wouldn't that be a perfect opportunity to say, wow I have an opportunity to make this a memorable first experience for this woman, something she'll always remember as her "first Knicks game". So, blunder number one, not picking up on the "hint" to take me to a game. Blunder number two, you just told me I wasn't worthy of your entire evening, but only useful as a pre-meet before your super awesome fun night with your friend. Way to make a woman feel amazing. And he wondered why I said no?
Either way, men have really gone off the track in terms of putting out the effort to make a first date a memorable experience for a woman. To this day, people in my parent's generation can remember their first dates to the tea, including what they wore, what movie they saw and how the entire evening went. I could barely tell you the first and last name of the guy I went on a date with the other week because it was so unmemorable.
Showing effort to women is almost a guarantee that they will respect you, regardless of your awkward first date traits such as sweating, stammering and forgetting to pull out her chair at dinner. And yes, we notice the ones who took some planning with their first date.
So fellas, keep the chivalry alive. Spend a little bit more money than the $20 you were planning on dropping at Chili's, or even get creative and do something FREE...Central Park or Battery Park is perfect to just walk around and get to know someone. You may thank me later.
Anyways, back to my point. Where is chivalry? The courting a woman, taking her to a nice restaurant, a play, a park, the neighborhood cafe, hell anywhere other than your black leather couch in your bachelor pad. I cannot even count the amount of dates where the effort of putting together a first date was comparable to the effort my 7th grade boyfriend used when he would casually stroll by my locker before our first class.
Honestly, I make so many decisions in my daily life when it comes to work and my own daily habits that I am mentally exhausted by the time it comes to the question from a man "So what do you want to do?". Men...word of advice, don't EVER ask a woman that. Show initiative and plan something. Literally the minute a man asks me to make a decision about how he should spend his money on a date with me is the moment I've mentally checked off the idea that I now have complete and utter control. Contrary to most men's belief, that control is not something most women want. As long as we can control our OWN lives, that's usually enough for our daily schedules. So do yourself a favor and figure out what type of date I would be interested in.
Now, men, figuring out what type of date to go on...that's the trick. So don't lose me here. Stick with me. Golden information is about to ensue. Here's the trick to figuring out the "type" of date a woman wants...ready? Here it is...listen. I know you've heard that before, but it's true. Women have this uncanny knack of never directly stating exactly what it is they want. Part of it is uncertainty with what a woman wants, but the really smart women drop "hints" simply to see if you are PAYING ATTENTION. Men that pay attention, usually are asked for second, third, fourth, etc. dates. Really our code is not that hard to follow. For instance, here's an interaction, let's see if you can read between the lines and pay attention to what "type" of date I was asking for.
Kassandra: "Oh I absolutely love sports! I've never been to a game up here though since I grew up in Ohio."
Clueless Bachelor:"Yeah I'm a huge Knicks fan, I go to a lot of games. You know what, we should meet up for dinner before I go to this Saturday's game with my friend."
Seriously? Let's review. I said I love sports (which should be ANY man's fantasy). Secondly, I said I've never been to a game. Now wouldn't that be a perfect opportunity to say, wow I have an opportunity to make this a memorable first experience for this woman, something she'll always remember as her "first Knicks game". So, blunder number one, not picking up on the "hint" to take me to a game. Blunder number two, you just told me I wasn't worthy of your entire evening, but only useful as a pre-meet before your super awesome fun night with your friend. Way to make a woman feel amazing. And he wondered why I said no?
Either way, men have really gone off the track in terms of putting out the effort to make a first date a memorable experience for a woman. To this day, people in my parent's generation can remember their first dates to the tea, including what they wore, what movie they saw and how the entire evening went. I could barely tell you the first and last name of the guy I went on a date with the other week because it was so unmemorable.
Showing effort to women is almost a guarantee that they will respect you, regardless of your awkward first date traits such as sweating, stammering and forgetting to pull out her chair at dinner. And yes, we notice the ones who took some planning with their first date.
So fellas, keep the chivalry alive. Spend a little bit more money than the $20 you were planning on dropping at Chili's, or even get creative and do something FREE...Central Park or Battery Park is perfect to just walk around and get to know someone. You may thank me later.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
