The Search is Over

That is, according to the January/February issue of Women's Health magazine! Aren't you glad that I had so much time on vacation at Shady Pines to do all this reading??? In a MUCH more useful article than the one blogged about below, titled "The Best and Worst Cities for Women, 2009", the author has some great advice. Apparently, if one is "longing to meet a mate" we should trek to "Manchester, NH, where there are 71 single women for every 100 single men - the most female-friendly ratio of any city" and that list included Alaska! I don't know much about New Hampshire (I'll tell you all about it when I get there), but it is closer to more cosmpolitan cities and great shopping/restaurants than Anchorage, Alaska!!!

How To Meet a Nice Guy

I saw this article in the January issue of Shape magazine (featuring Debra Messing, as pictured), and dug right in. I was suspicious from the start, as only 1/4 of a page was devoted to this article. I was intrigued that I would be able to learn how to meet a nice guy in only one paragraph! If it was so easy, how come this article wasn't published YEARS ago???

The article is actually titled "How to (FINALLY) Meet a Nice Guy". Sounds good enough! The (FINALLY) really gives the article a sense of urgency, which I can appreciate. According to the author, "Men who are self-obsessed, unpredictable and dishonest have more luck with the ladies than nice guys do". No sh*t. The author goes on to state that "these characteristics make a man appear more confident and therefore more attractive." Have I really been interpreting selfishness, unpredictability (that means keeping us on our toes by not calling or keeping us at arms length - doesn't it?) and dishonesty as confidence??? I can't imagine that I've been that stupid in love, but stranger things have happened. Actually, my ex, The Alcoholic Workaholic, displayed all of those non-redeeming qualities, plus more!

Apparently, "as women get older, they learn from their mistakes; they become less interested in bad boys and are drawn to men who make better life partners". Okay.... this is not breaking news. The article ends one sentence later. In that last sentence, there are NO TIPS on finding said 'nice guy.' Although not what I was hoping for, the article did have some interesting information, however I think the author should have just titled it "Try to Meet a Nice Guy - Sucka!"
Argh!!!

Yes, Ma'am

My vacation at Shady Pines is almost over. I have enjoyed almost every minute of it (except for ones mentioned in blogs below) and will miss spending days poolside, soaking up the sun and checking out the eligible silver foxes. I will not, however, miss being referred to as "ma'am."

What is up with that??? It is a dreadful term used mostly by Americans (they are SO sh*t upon, but for this they REALLY deserve it) and most commonly in southern states. It is SO insulting - why not just call me "old lady" or, as I'm more commonly known "old, old, tragic spinster". It's a term that I associate with older Southern women (see picture above - I do not look like that). What kills me is not so much when young kids say it, but when men MY AGE refer to me as "ma'am" - who do THEY think THEY are??? Not sure what the term is for men, but would they like me to call them "Oldtimer", "Granddaddy" or "Colonel"?

I'm not sure how many of these offending Americans that this blog will reach, but I emplore all offenders to immediately stop using the term ma'am among any women who do not display any of the below visual signs of aging:
* crows feet
* saddle bags
* laugh lines
* age spots
* sagging skin (except for that on the upper arm - there seems to be no effective way to combat this specific location after the age of 30)
* wrinkled skin ON THE BODY
* blue/purple rinsed white hair
* white hair full stop

How I Spent New Year's Eve as a 3rd Wheel

Yes, I'm celebrating New Years at Shady Pines with Ward and June. Throughout the entire vacation, I've been either the 3rd wheel (spending time with my bro, Beavis, and his gf) or the 5th wheel (spending time with the dynamic duos of Beavis/gf and Ward/June). I have grown accustomed to being the 3rd or 5th wheel when spending time with my married friends, but I've never had to spend a night such as new year's eve with the smug marrieds. Speaking of 5th wheels, did anyone ever see that show? It was hosted by Aisha Tyler and it was HILARIOUS. Anyways....

Do you know how hard I had to search to find a picture of THREE champagne glasses clinking??? That is because NO ONE wants to have an extra appendage around at new years. I haven't spent this occasion with any smug marrieds in ages, as they all want to hang out exclusively, thereby forcing the tragic spinsters to spend hundreds of dollars to buy a ticket to a bar (that will decorate with sad, measly streamers and run out of champagne before they get to MY TABLE at the dreaded hour) and get all dolled up in an attempt to get loaded and try to find someone to make out with at midnight. It's hard work!

I know that Ward and June won't mind having me around for this momentous usherance into 2009, as they are older, have seen many new years and simply don't give a sh*t any more. Still, I will (reluctantly) be looking straight into June Cleaver-Blogshaw's eyes at midnight to see if I can detect the look of pity and despair over my single status that I have grown to know and fear over the years. Honestly, if I got loaded and made out with one (or more) of the waiters at midnight that would please her more than if I sat there not trying!

Happy New Year Everyone!

Recession Dating

I have recently been thinking of the recession in terms of what it might do to my career and how it is affecting my shopping on ebay. Today, after watching sickening reports of economic turmoil on CNN, I am wondering how the economy is going to affect dating.

I was recently reminded of the story of The Black Dahlia. She, Elizabeth Short, was a young singleton during the depression. She participated in what was then called 'dating for dinner.' She was not considered to be a prostitute (well, barely...), but the girl seemed to have the right idea.

Apparently, lots of young spinsters turned to 'dating for dinner' during the depression. Basically, it was how they ate. That must have been hard work for those ladies - it's no small feat to have to sit through dinner with someone whose stories you'd prefer not to hear. I'm not assuming that they had to trade sexual favours for dinner, as the term would have been coined 'hooking for dinner' and that is a different situation. Ask me more about this if I lose my job in January.....

What I'm trying to anticipate is how my dates are going to play out from now on. I am becoming more conscious of what I'm spending and I'm trying to save up a contingency fund in case of dreaded unemployment. I'm assuming that my dates may be feeling the same way, so hopefully they will all understand if I pick cheap venues and show up in recycled date outfits and last night's makeup.

Perhaps we might try group dates, which would be economical and efficient - maybe 4 or 5 men with 1 or 2 women - there's a lot of potential there. If all goes well, it could be followed up by group sex, which is also economical (a box of condoms doesn't cost much when 6 people have to pitch in), efficient AND could also increase a woman's chances of getting what she wants in ONE session.

The Silver Fox

I have blogged about Sugar Daddies (somewhat jokingly, but not entirely) in the past. Today, sitting poolside at Shady Pines, I realized a whole new dimension to the traditional sugar daddy. This is, of course, the Silver Fox.

The Silver Fox can typically be found in gated golf communities, as well as at restaurants serving early bird specials, medical centers, pharmacies and funerals. I would like to tell you about one Silver Fox in particular. He was chatting on a cell phone (yep, he was hipper than his hip replacement) and staring at me as I was applying sunscreen. I ignored him until I realized that he was REALLY staring (could it have been a bad case of cataracts?) and started to wonder what that could mean for me. As I am one of the youngest people at Shady Pines by a decade or two, I'm getting lots of welcome attention. I watched him, in his George Hamilton-tanned splendour, with his white-haired chest, incredibly skinny arms and legs (atrophy?), beer belly (gas?) and bright yellow swim trunks. It was quite a sight.

Now, the opportunity that exists with the Silver Fox is not to be ignored. If divorced or widowed, they (at Shady Pines, anyway) have homes in a safe, gated community in Sunny Southern State, a luxury car, retirement funds complimented by old age pensions and a desire to be taken care of by a young hottie. For those commitment-phobic singletons, please remember to consider the shelf life of entering into a relationship with the Silver Fox, as factors such as age and quality of health will dictate the length of the union. I think Blanche Devereaux, that incorrigible senior slut, had the right idea on tv. This could be a golden opportunity, girls!!!

Family Feud

It's hard to believe that another year has passed since the last Blogshaw family Christmas. This year, we found ourselves spending Christmas in a gated golf community (fancy talk for retirement villa) in a sunny southern state. Once we got used to our new surroundings at the lovely Shady Pines, we sat down to our classy Christmas dinner from Publix.

As 2 of us were exhausted from the flight, the Christmas convo was pretty slow and not at all offensive to any particular member of the Blogshaw family, which was a nice change. It was not, however, to last. The tryptophan from the turkey, which is supposed to induce sleep, had the opposite effect on my father, Ward Cleaver-Blogshaw and my brother, Beavis Blogshaw. The topic turned to an estranged friend of the family, thereby taking the focus off any of us. As my father and brother discussed what Estranged Friend might be up to these days, my father asked me (as I sometimes bump into Estranged Friend on nights out in downtown Cosmopolitan City) if he is in a relationship. To the best of my knowledge, I replied that I didn't think so. This led my father to wonder (out loud, of course) what Estranged Friend's problem is with relationships. My interest in the conversation piqued at this ponderance. The convo took a dangerous turn:

Ward: "Why is he not married? What's his problem? Do you think he's gay?"
Beavis: "Probably"
Carrie: "WTF???"
Ward: "Well, why is he not married at his age? He goes through girlfriends like Hefner. There must be something wrong with him"
Beavis: "Yeah"
Carrie: "What? I'm not married, so am I GAY???"
June: "You're not gay"
Ward: "You've had some serious relationships... All his relationships fail."
Carrie: "Newsflash: ALL OF MY RELATIONSHIPS HAVE FAILED. Does that mean I'm gay?"
Beavis: "Uhhhhhhhh..."

That exchange brought upon a diatribe that would make most spinsters terribly proud. It also ended the annual Blogshaw family dinner.
What really bothered me about the opinions expressed by my family is that they feel that there is something wrong with Estranged Friend because he has not found a life partner. What bothers me more is that they feel like he's such a lost cause at his age. He's only 3 or 4 years older than I am!

Like every new year, I hope for myself and my mother that I might meet someone great to go on more than a dozen dates with, but all I can do is remain hopeful and resist the urge to import an Asian husband. Or, as my father put it, as I'm thirtysomething and single, would that be an Asian wife???!!!

A Partridge in a Pear Tree

When I did a google search for a picture of a partridge in a pear tree, I didn't actually hope to find a picture of Danny Partridge up a tree, however this is what I got, so enjoy.
Now, I would like to regale you with the single gal version of the Christmas classic 'Twelve Days of Christmas.'

On the first day of Christmas, my TRUE LOVE sent to me Look #10 from the SS09 collection by Fendi.

On the second day of Christmas, my TRUE LOVE sent to me sumptuous elbow-length leather gloves and Look #10 by Fendi.

On the third day of Christmas, my TRUE LOVE sent to me 3 Montblanc pens, long leather gloves and Look #10 by Fendi.

On the fourth day of Christmas, my TRUE LOVE sent to me 4 buff nerds, 3 Montblanc pens, long elbow gloves and Look #10 by Fendi.

On the fifth day of Christmas, my TRUE LOVE sent to me 5 platinum rings (set with a minimum of 2 carat brilliant cut diamond solitaires...), 4 buff nerds, 3 Montblanc pens, long leather gloves and Look #10 by Fendi.

On the sixth day of Christmas, my TRUE LOVE sent to me 6 sugar daddies-a-paying, 5 platinum rings, 4 buff nerds, 3 Montblanc pens, long leather gloves and Look #10 by Fendi.

On the seventh day of Christmas, my TRUE LOVE sent to me 7 men with bodies like Michael Phelps (but with faces like Clive Owen) swimming, 6 daddies-a-paying, 5 platinum rings, 4 buff nerds, 3 Montblanc pens, long leather gloves and Look #10 by Fendi.

On the eigth day of Christmas, my TRUE LOVE sent to me 8 maids-a-cleaning (my messy flat), 7 hotties swimming, 6 daddies-a-paying, 5 platinum rings, 4 buff nerds, 3 Montblanc pens, long leather gloves and Look #10 by Fendi.

On the ninth day of Christmas, my TRUE LOVE sent to me 9 Chippendales dancers dancing, 8 maids-a-cleaning, 7 hotties swimming, 6 daddies-a-paying, 5 platinum rings, 4 buff nerds, 3 Montblanc pens, long leather gloves and Look#10 by Fendi.

On the tenth day of Christmas, my TRUE LOVE sent to me 10 lords-a-leaping (preferably good looking, wealthy lords from the English countryside), 9 rippers dancing, 8 maids-a-cleaning, 7 hotties swimming, 6 daddies-a-paying, 5 platinum rings, 4 buff nerds, 3 Montblanc pens, long leather gloves and Look #10 by Fendi.

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my TRUE LOVE sent to me 11 pipers-piping (hash pipe is one thing, but crack pipe is absolutely unacceptable...), 10 lords-a-leaping, 9 rippers dancing, 8 maids-a-cleaning, 7 hotties swimming, 6 daddies-a-paying, 5 platinum rings, 4 buff nerds, 3 Montblanc pens, long leather gloves and Look #10 by Fendi.

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my TRUE LOVE sent to me 12 BMW's with motors humming, 11 pipers-piping, 10 lords-a-leaping, 9 rippers dancing, 8 maids-a-cleaning, 7 hotties swimming, 6 daddies-a-paying, 5 platinum rings, 4 buff nerds, 3 Montblanc pens, long leather gloves and Look #10 by Fendi.

I hope this helps to put you in the holiday spirit.
I would like to remind you all, however, that TRUE LOVE like that doesn't really exist!

The Reluctant WoMANizer

I was suprised to read in my last edition of STAR magazine (I know, I know...) that Britney Spears is having trouble meeting men. It seems that every time I watch TMZ or pick up a tabloid, she's getting it on with someone new. Now, she is apparently on a man hunt and is "frantically searching for love again."
As ridiculous and potentially untrue as this (fascinating) article may be, I was interested to learn that the poor pop tart is "desperately lonely" and has been pursuing "several hunky candidates, only to be rejected!"
I can relate.
I can relate to Britney Spears.
The article insists that "when it comes to guys, Britney has a type". So do I. Frighteningly, we seem to have the same type. Now, the article, though still fascinating, is starting to scare the sh*t out of me... At this point in her unfulfilling love life, she is "becoming more and more willing to be less and less picky." So am I. "Her list of requirements has definitely become shorter and shorter." So has mine.
To have this many similarities to the beleaguered and embattled Ms. Spears is concerning me. Although I know that she has made great strides towards a full recovery, I feel that she is NOT QUITE THERE and the fact that we are on the same page and experiencing ANYTHING the same way is a worry.
The funniest part of the article is at the end, where STAR is trying to convince Brit to try online dating. Poor Britney - has she not suffered enough??? They've given her an online name "Louisiana Lass" and even a tag line "Womanizers need not apply!" They even wrote her profile for her. What luck. I'm not sure if Britney is going to take the advice of this arguably ill-respected tabloid, but if she does, I'd like her to know that in a state of fragile mental health, I think it would be best for her to wait a little while or, at the very least, to ensure that she's taken a full dose of medication before she logs in to let the games begin!

About Last Night

What a great film.
I saw this in the late '80s on video, however I was too young to really understand the complexities in the relationship between Rob Lowe and Demi Moore (who, I should note, looks better today than she did in 1986). Having taken a sickie due to exhaustion and stress brought on by having lost the will to live after my last dating disaster, I was in luck when I saw this movie on afternoon tv. Perfect timing.
I was hooked from start to finish. I had no idea that the problems that I have been contributing to dating in the noughties actually existed in the '80s. I am bewildered that the same old same old has been going on for over TWENTY YEARS and we seem to be no closer to figuring things out now than we were back then. Perhaps it was all the shoulder pads (kept us from getting too close to others) and extreme amounts of hairspray (excessive inhalation has obviously had lasting effects...) that kept us from making any revelations or great discoveries about dating and cohabitation.
In case you are having trouble remembering the story of the film, here is a synopsis:
* Rob and Demi meet in a bar (so cliche, but it DOES happen sometimes)
* They sleep together on the first date (she was mortified, but it worked for them)
* He intends to call her after they had gone on a few dates but his guy's-guy, loudmouthed, beligerent best friend advises only to "call broads once a week" (FYI: I'd like to mention that ALL men have a jackass friend like that)
* That BAD decision leads to a bump in the road, but she takes a risk and calls him on it
* They make up
* They move in together
* They break up

I was able to identify with every situation and issue in that film (except for the moving in part - I've never reached that level of commitment or foolishness, depending on how you look at it). I have attributed the psychological torture of dating to living in a society where choices and options abound and everything is disposable. I guess things were like that 20 years ago, but it didn't seem to be quite as prevalent back then as it is today. Still, we are struggling with the exact same confusion as Rob and Demi. Were they able to figure it out? The ending suggests that they walked off into the sunset to live happily ever after, however maybe they walked off into the sunset, had YET ANOTHER big fight and resumed their roles as bitter, jaded exes...

Men Are Like Dogs

I don't mean in the traditional way (the way that men have been compared to dogs in terms of behaviour and practice as it pertains to women and dating). I mean that men are like dogs in terms of pheromones.

I continue to torture myself by keeping my profile up on Unnamed Dating Website. Some days I find it entertaining and some days I find it utterly depressing. Lately, however, it was stagnant. I had no interest in meeting anyone, as I thought I was dating someone cool, and no one had contacted me on the website for quite some time. I decided to make my last internet boyfriend jealous by logging onto the site a few days ago and let me tell you, it's been insane. I got a message from someone who seemed decent (don't worry, I'm sure that if I meet him he'll turn out to be quite like Dexter in no time), and all of a sudden men started popping up out of nowhere. Where had they been??? I was getting views, smiles and instant messages like I was the last woman on earth. Like their canine counterparts, men can SMELL the interest of other men.

It's so true that when you have a boyfriend, other great guys appear and test your relationship. It's the same with work - when you NEED a job it's impossible to find one and when you HAVE a job, interest from other companies comes pouring in. Men, like dogs AND prospective employers, can smell the interest of others a mile away. Action (like dating) breeds action and inaction (like being a tragic spinster for years on end) breads inaction... I think I'm on to something here! Ladies, I guess it doesn't matter if he's a geek or a greek god - it's all about quantity so we better start dating them all!

The L Word

At the end of each failed romance, I usually take the time to wonder if it will be the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back, the point where I've had it up to here or the breakup that broke my tolerance. What I'm trying to express to you is that I wonder if he will have been the guy who pushed me to the other side. You know, the other team.....
If I can't make it with a man, should I be trying with a woman? With every exercise in dumping a partner, I get pushed closer to forming a dependence on alcohol and cigarettes. Maybe sex, drugs and rock and roll are next, but might homosexuality follow closely?
I get a lot out of my platonic relationships with women, so why is it so hard for me to imagine being gay? I would be a lipstick lesbian, not a butch, but it just doesn't appeal. Should it? I am able to admit that I appreciate good looking and well dressed women, but, alas, I have no desire to date them.
I thought that the most recent train wreck relationship might change my mind......................but nope........... still hetero.

If it's not one thing, it's my mother: Jesus Christ

Obviously, this has to do with my mother, the incorrigible June Cleaver Blogshaw. As many of you have requested more stories about her antics, here you go.
She continues to ask about one of my exes, as if there is a chance that we might get back together (despite all of the information that I have provided her to the contrary). She seems to live under the misguided hope that The Alcoholic Workaholic and I might reunite. There are a few reasons why this is unlikely and I would like to share them with you:

1. I'm over him.
2. He's married.
3. He has a child.
4. He's mentally ill.

As soon as I am able to get her off the topic of reuniting with past lovers, she tries to focus on new lovers for me. This has also turned out to be useless time and again. She spends the summers up north and tries to find men to hook me up with while she's up there. There are usually some problems with these attempts at matchmaking and I'm thinking of one hockey player in particular:

1. He's married.
2. He has a child.
3. He's a hockey player, for f*ck's sake - he probably has the wife AND 20 girlfriends!
4. I'm not blonde, therefore it would never work.

I remember once, when I spent 2 years in London trying to work things out with The Alcoholic Workaholic, I met a man who pursued me and treated me exactly how I wanted to be treated and then told me he was in a relationship. I was very upset and did not want to go there. I told my mother, thinking she would agree, and she tried to pursuade me to keep at it and eventually, hopefully he would "dump the bitch."
No Joke.

God bless her - I know she means well. I'm hoping that, at some point in the new year, I might date someone that would please her and would allow her to brag to her friends... Or at the very least, I could become a kept woman in an adulterous situation which would please her even more!

To be or not to be... single

Just as I was entering the depths of despair this morning as yet ANOTHER dating saga seems to be coming to an end, I read a very intersting article in STAR magazine (don't judge - I know you secretly read it too or, at the very least, like to look at the pictures...). It features a story about an article that Amy Sedaris (actress and brother of the hilarious writer David, whose books I adore) is featured in for the magazine Singular (see picture).
Amy, 47, has apparently been single forever (my interest was peaked immediately) and prefers it that way. Please see below quotes from the article:

"Amy dishes to Singular magazine about living solo in the Big Apple - and why she wouldn't have it any other way.
The upside to being unattached? No need for 'endless weekends shopping at Pottery Barn with other dead-eyed couples,' jokes Amy. 'I'm too independent to be in a relationship,' she asserts. 'I like dating, and I've had plenty of boyfriends, but I like being alone a lot better.'"

Needless to say, Amy Sedaris is my new hero. I still idolize Carrie Bradshaw and strongly identify with Bridget Jones, but Amy has reached a level of consciousness that most Buddhists never reach! I wonder if I will ever reach that state of acceptance, where I will be able to laugh at the hopeless state of affairs that I refer to as my love life. Where I will be happy to be alone, not look at loving couples like the spawn of the devil and be able to see a girl excitedly meeting up with her date for the evening without thinking that she's the whore of the infidel......

Happy Effing Holidays

I guess the good thing about being single at Christmas yet again this year is that, due to the uncertain economy and the fact that I'm afraid I might be jobless in the new year, it's not so bad to be on my own. I have one less person to shop for, which is ultimately a blessing in disguise (this time).
Back in my youth, when I was actually capable of maintaining relationships with men, I would always stress about buying the perfect gifts for those ungrateful, spoiled bastards (who never managed to give gifts as good as the ones they got). Now, I will not have to bother myself with such worries - no making of a list and no checking of it twice. I will not have to poll my male friends for ideas on the perfect gift and I will not have to deal with crowded malls, screaming children, runaway strollers and a frustrating lack of parking (due to the fact that all the spots are taken by minivans full of screaming children and runaway strollers...).
I will also have more free time to think about the gifts that I won't be buying for my friends (sorry guys - I really am concerned about what the new year will bring in terms of perhaps finding out what it is like to live on the dole...), as well as saving a significant sum of money that is better suited to buying myself necessities, being stored under my mattress or being the amount that I might spend on eHarmony in the new year.
happy effing holidays!

Thought for the Day

If a man says something in the forest, and no woman is around to hear him, is he still wrong?

Dating Etiquette 101

Seriously.
It seems that some of us (I'm lying... I mean those of the male persuasion) need to go over the expectations of etiquette that apply to dating. Unfortunately, there are quite a few men out there who have lost track of how to go about things, or perhaps never really knew how to behave properly from the start. I'll start off with my rules of etiquette as they apply to dating online. I would also like to offer up some pointers for dating in general, but I just can't stomach tackling both at the same time. Please stay tuned.

Online Dating Tips for Men:

* If you are on a dating website, then it is assumed that you are interested in DATING. If you are not quite sure what you're looking for, or if you are interested in playing games with women, you should not be on a DATING website. Try a GAMING website instead. If this is hard for you, then please take your profile off the dating and relationship sections and just keep your profile on the casual sex section.

* If you are married, you should NOT be on a dating website.

* If you put up a picture from 10 years ago and have possibly changed since then (???!!!), try putting up a more recent picture.

* If you put up a picture of yourself when you had hair and now you do not, put up a picture of your damn bald self.

* If you are ugly and put up a picture of one of your better looking friends, please bite me.

* If you are shirtless and wearing fireman pants and suspenders in your profile picture, please stop contacting me.

* Don't describe your attractiveness and, for the love of god, if you feel that you have to, PLEASE don't put it first. The typical "I'm a good-looking guy..." sounds awful and is so superficial. Plus, it doesn't really matter how good looking you THINK you are, as I will be the judge of that!

* Please avoid at all costs the "Ambush Introduction". What is this, you ask? The Ambush Introduction occurs when one instant messages a member without testing the waters first. What do I mean by this? I mean, send a smile or a poke or something first. If you do not receive a response in a reasonable amount of time, please forgo the instant messaging. The lack of response was our way of rejecting you without having to end conversations or log out when you contact us out of the blue and are shirtless and wearing fireman pants and suspenders in your profile picture.

Is this thing ON????

How many times have I sat around, starting at my phone waiting for it to ring?
Too many times, really. Perhaps the worst part of all is that, after all the anticipation, the phone FINALLY rings but it's not the person who was expected to call. The caller can hear the disappointment in my voice.
"Oh (in a strained voice with a mix of sadness and crushing desperation). Hi Mom"
Although I consider myself to be a modern woman, I struggle to act as a modern woman when it comes to dating. It's hard for me to suppress my traditional sensibilities. I am starting to realize now that it's impossible to date in this day and age and have any traditional values at all, but it's hard to let go.
What is phone etiquette supposed to be like these days? Are calls to be initiated in turns? I make one call and they make the next? Are we supposed to make the majority of calls?? Are they??? Do we seem desperate or too forward if we call too often? Do we seem aloof, disinterested and overly confident if we don't call often enough? Am I over-thinking things a bit???

Six

How soon is too soon???
It's not very often that I date someone I like enough to get down to business. In reality, it's just not very often that I date someone I like. So when I do date someone who I'd like to make it work with, it's always a dilemma which requires much feedback from others. Seriously, how many dates (on average) should one wait?
It is pretty well decided that sleeping with someone on a first date is not good (not to say it's not GOOD, it could be very GOOD indeed, but it doesn't seem to send the right message). The first three dates seem to be sex write-offs, but after that it's a free for all of opinions and experiences.
It becomes a complicated situation indeed - as complicated as a military strategy which requires careful planning, cunning and troubleshooting. I feel the need to pick the perfect amount of dates in order to avoid disaster. I don't want to come off as a prude, so I don't want to wait TOO long, but I do want to come across as serious and interested. I would like to be considered the kind of girl you could take home to mom... So, how many dates does this take? Some people measure this in weeks or months and not dates. This is an interesting approach, but if one was to be going on an average of 2 dates per week, 8 dates could have been had in one month, which is A LOT of dates compared to people dating on a once-a-week type schedule.
I've read Madonna's SEX book, which is very insightful in the free-love, experimental, woman of lesser virtue, oh-my-god-how-many-people(of different genders)-can-you-get-off-with-in-one-eveing kind of way.
There is a great website on dating tips (www.topdatingtips.com) that resonates more to wholesome and excessively proper people like me. I see how going for it too soon can make one come across as "easy", however sex is an important part of a relationship and if it's not going to work, it's better to find that out early and move on.
Three dates or fewer is too few. Four to five dates seems early but more reasonable. I'm thinking of a better number here - the number six. Not only does it rhyme with sex, making it both straightforward and a mnemonic device, but also, it's a great compromise between the numbers 1 (hooker) and 10 (frigid bitch).

Baggage

How much is too much?
If we compare dating to travelling, then the airport is the meeting stage. There, our baggage is counted and weighed. If our baggage is determined to be overweight, we have to pay for it, however we are still allowed on the flight.
The flight is like the dating stage, where it is hoped that the baggage will not weigh down the plane. The heavier the load, the more fuel is burned up. The dating (or flight) stage allows one time to sleep, read, relax and watch movies OR talk to the person in the next seat, learn something new and broaden one's horizons. It is like opening the baggage and going through it - maybe there are some things that are worth hanging on to, but if there are items in there that have not been used or proven to be of value in months or years, it's time to let it go.
The arrival of the flight is like that infamous 3 month dating point where one usually reaches the stage of fight or flight. If one is travelling with overweight baggage that hasn't managed to decrease in size during the flight, one might decide that fleeing is the option that makes the most sense. As most of us who travel know, it is much easier and more pleasant to carry small, lightweight baggage then it is to lug around heavy, cumbersome baggage. The same goes in relationships. Partners are supposed to help each other lighten their loads or partner up and have the ability to tackle issues and problems with twice the power of one person. I'm finding this all very interesting to contemplate.
I will make one exception to this analogy, however. If any future partner of mine is travelling with overweight and cumbersome baggage, I will try my best to work it out if it turns happens that he's carrying a set of gently used Louis Vuitton steamer trunks.

Is it wrong to idolize Karen Walker???

I love her.
I aspire to be just like her when I grow up.
The longer I spend looking for love, the more appealing a loveless marriage of convenience sounds. Karen Walker, by far my favourite character on the dearly departed sitcom Will & Grace, was a great woman. She had everything - except love. However, when one is a pill-popping, vodka-swilling, verbose fag hag with money to burn and all that free time, would one even be aware of absent distractions such as love???
She had a fabulous penthouse in Manhattan, a driver, a pharmacist, a maid, a gay boyfriend, she was dripping in diamonds and furs and, on top of everything, she was able to hang on to a part-time job! What a woman!
Of couse, it came at a price. She did have to sleep with old, fat and ugly Stanley Walker, but at the end of the day, it seemed to be a small sacrifice for all the fun she was having. The entire scenario is pretty well covered: in tough times, you have vodka and pills to dull the pain, sumptuous furs to cushion the blow and drivers to whisk you away from any unpleasant situations. There are women out there who have been able to achieve this sort of lifestyle by partnering with unfortunate looking men, such as any of Donald Trump's ex-wives or anyone who's ever dated Hugh Hefner (vodka must be a major stimulant for those girls - god, they work for it!).....
I'm not saying that this is an immediate goal, but I'd like to leave this out there as an option.

Craig's List

This is perhaps the most insulted I've ever been..... Through all the frustation and confusion that I've been dealing with while pursuing the toughest possible task - dating - this revelation is perhaps the most damaging that I've been dealt yet.
It turns out that Mr. Hello Wall (see previous related posts), who I really can't say that I miss in any way, decided to start looking for women on CRAIG'S LIST after we broke up!
WTF???!!!
He was apparently bragging to a mutual friend that he met a girl who could "suck the chrome off an exhaust pipe/bumper/fender (however the exact quote went...)". I had to laugh, as he could also have said, due to his lack of endowment, that she could "suck the yellow off a pencil". Fucking needle-dick.
Anyhoo, I just cannot believe that someone would stop seeing me and think: "where to find a great girl now?....... of course! Craig's List!".
God help me.
Isn't Craig's List where one would go to, say, list or buy an old couch? old chair?? old rug??? old, crappy, roach-infested apartment downtown?????
Apparently, though, it is a great place for one to find chrome-sucking sluts!!!

Remembrance Day

I would like, on this Remembrance Day, to take some time to remember the best times I've ever had in relationships or on dates:

* ummmmmmm
* hmmmmmmm
* uhhhhhhh
* wellllllllll
* mehhhhhhhhh
* yeahhhhh
* mmmmmmmm
* arghhhhhhhh

Okay, then................ Nevermind!

Love Story

After recently suffering YET ANOTHER dating disaster, I am now even more confused than ever. What really makes me scratch my head is that, after much research, it seems that some of the best love stories and songs are written by men. Why is it that men pretend not to have feelings and emotions when they are able to pour their hearts out into movies, books and songs that are so moving they make us melt??? I've thought about this a lot, maybe even too much, but it confuses me. Why is it so hard for so many men to confront or discuss their feelings when many others are so in tune with them that they have written the best love stories of all time?
Let's look at a few examples of romantic movies/stories written by men that are so emotional they've turned us all into blubbering messes:
* Love Story
* The Notebook
* Romeo & Juliet
* Dr. Zhivago
* Casablanca
* Pretty Woman (both written and directed by men, which may explain why Edward Lewis ending up meeting a hooker and not, say, someone at the library or in a coffee shop...)
* Bridget Jones (okay, it was written by a woman but it continues to move me to tears each time I see it and I aspire to find a man like Mark Darcy...)

All I'm asking for is to meet a man who is not only in touch with his feelings, but might also be able to put them into words. If not words, fine, but write me a screenplay or SOMETHING. Cut a girl some slack!!!!

The Right Hand Ring

Please excuse me, I'm barfing.........
The concept of the right hand ring drives me crazy and has since I first heard of it a few years ago. I understand, as a tragic spinster, that I occasionally have to buy myself a drink when I go to a bar (well, more than just occasionally and usually in multiples of 6...), but to have to buy myself a diamond??? I don't think so!
What kind of world are we living in where women now have to buy themselves diamond rings? I find this offensive, not to mention depressing and nauseating.
I am a super-consumer and love to shop. I have bought myself many things, including shoes, sandals, boots, booties, mass amounts of clothes, earrings, bracelets, necklaces, vacations, nights out with the girls at swanky bars, a car and even a bloody condo. The one thing I REFUSE to buy myself is a diamond ring. Is nothing sacred? Is it possible that I will lose faith that someone out there (male, older than me, tall, dark, handsome and gainfully employed if possible...) will one day buy me a ring? I hate to think that might happen.
In case of that eventuality, I can assure you that the finger shown in the picture above is exactly the digit that will sport the right hand ring!

The Emotional Fuckwit

It doesn't have to be a new year for me to make this resolution. In the wise words of my hero, Bridget Jones, I vow from today to:

"find a nice sensible boyfriend and stop forming emotional attachments to any of the following: alcoholics, workaholics, sexaholics, commitment-phobics, peeping toms, megalomaniacs, emotional fuckwits or perverts"

I'm finding that it's easier to identify workaholics, sexaholics and alcoholics from the bunch, but the emotional fuckwit is pervasive and usually remains undetected until I'm emotionally attached. Since I continue to attract the emotional fuckwit, does that mean that I, too, am fuckwitted??? Or would that be fuckwitty???
Honestly, the last person I want to attract is someone who is emotionally unavailable or completely confused, however they seem to keep finding their way into my life. Perhaps they are attracted to me in hopes of getting help, or maybe (scarily) they are attracted to me because they feel we have a lot in common....... I feel badly for the fuckwits, I really do, but I would prefer for them to date elsewhere and I am hoping that, from today, I will not encounter another Daniel Cleaver disguised as Mark Darcy.

MANhattan

I LOVE New York! I travel to Manhattan on business once every couple of months and have been doing so for years. Somehow, I failed to notice until last week, that Manhattan is full of MEN!!! They are everywhere! I urge anyone to go anywhere in that city and not find one. I should qualify what I mean when I say men. They could be old, unattractive, beer-bellied burpers who frequent sports bars or baseball games, but no - the men found in Manhattan are mostly tall, dark and handsome suits. It's a man-mecca!
Needless to say, I feel that I should be spending much more time in MANhattan and plan to do so going forward. Below is a list of places with a higher than average man to woman ratio (opposite of the man to woman ratio in Toronto, which seems to be a number best suited to lesbians.....).
* Del Friscos - a steak house near Radio City Music Hall and it is just heaving with handsome, successful guys. There is NOWHERE in Toronto that compares to Del Friscos.
* Tao
* Buddakan (this is where the rehearsal dinner for Carrie and Big's wedding was filmed - I was hoping I might have mine there when I find my Mr. Blog)
* The Hudson Hotel bar (particularly in the summer)
* Basically any major street in the city, including 5th, Madison, Park and Avenue of the Americas
* LaGuardia Airport - I'm not kidding. The 6.30pm flight back to Toronto is packed with them, but they seem to disappear once we get back home!

The Other C Word

To women, the C word may be cougar but to men, the C word is worse... way worse... it's the scary, dreaded word that many women are afraid to utter in front of their guys at this point (myself included)... the C word for men is COMMITMENT.
I would like now to take the time to define commitment for the benefit of my male readers only. Webster defines the word commitment as "an agreement or pledge to do something in the future; something pledged; the state of being obligated or emotionally impelled". OOOOHHHHH, SCARY!!!!!
I've read a lot about this and we've certainly all heard a lot about men who can't commit. In fact, anyone who has tried online dating lately would almost certainly agree that commitment-phobia has extended from real time to online. It's getting ridiculous. Below is a link for an article on how to get your man to commit in 10 easy steps. Since I'm having trouble enticing men to show up for dates lately, please give the below a read and if you have any success, let me know!

http://www.selfgrowth.com/articles/Weinberg1.html

The C Word

Someone threw the C word at me today. It was a terrifying experience. It shook me to my core. I was shaky, sweaty and heard the buzzing sound in my ears which usually indicates that I'm about to pass out. Although it was a joke, I didn't really find it funny - I'm EXTREMELY sensitive to THAT word... that dreaded C word..... COUGAR. I hate it with a passion. Grrrrr..........
My greatest fear is that someone will call me a cougar and mean it. When I was younger, I thought that any single woman over 30 who wore leopard print, huge gold earrings with matching necklaces, stilettos and faded denim complimented by blue eyeshadow, bright red lipstick and excessive amounts of fake tan was a cougar. Although I do not fit this description in the wardrobe or makeup sense, I am now over thirty and single. Now that I see my contemporaries in the same boat, I feel that the average age for a cougar is now 40 or over. This number increases as I age... I have a distaste for younger men, so technically I may never fall into this dreaded category (even if I was wearing leopard, red lipstick, stilettos and faded denim...), but still.... I HATE that word. So for any of you who are single and over 40 with a penchant for younger men, please beware of this season's fashion trends towards animal skins of all sorts (cheetah, leopard, zebra) - it's dangerous territory!

Crystal Ball

I wish I had one. I'd simply like to know if I'll ever meet someone and have a family. Or not. Is that too much to ask??? When I think about the amount of money (and time) that I've spent on visiting psychics over the years, it sickens me. Instead of paying psychics to tell me what will (or, most of the time, will not) happen, I could have:
* bought tens of pairs of designer shoes on Ebay
* bought ten pairs of designer shoes
* bought 5 pairs of designer shoes and 5 matching handbags
* taken ten fabulous vacations to exotic destinations with fabulous girlfriends
* made a significant difference towards the payment of my mortgage
* sponsored hundreds, if not thousands, of children in need (but please, I have my own problems...)

Remote Control

One of the most irritating things about not having a man around to fix things is when complicated items, such as the intimidating clicker, break. My clicker broke a few weeks ago and I tried replacing the batteries, pushing all the buttons, banging it on the coffee table and then crying, but nothing helped. It is dead. Now I have to turn the tv on and off manually. I can live like this, but I think it's a shame that there's no one around to help out with these gadget-y things. There are lots of things that need to get done around the house (including me...) and no one to do it except pricey professionals (oh, the implications of that statement!!!).
I should mention, however, that a friend and fellow blogger informed me that once there is a man on the scene, I will lose access to both the tv and the remote!

A New Tradition

I am a traditional girl. I like to be approached by men (but I don't like to be propositioned - please refer to Friends with Benefits post below). However, this doesn't seem to be getting me anywhere lately. So, I have just been very forward and made the first move online! This is a first for me and I will advise you of my progress. I feel like a new woman (yet also kind of scared)!

My Couch

In addition to the fabulous fringe boots in the post below, I've also developed strong feelings for my couch. My couch and I have been spending more and more time together lately, due to the fact that the dates just haven't been working out. Being the main piece of furniture in my place (besides my bed, which I also have a strong affection for), we are together most of the time when I am at home. After a (bad) date, my couch is there to cradle my sad ass. In fact, it is the throne from where I am sitting as I compose these thoughtful posts!

Fabulous Fringe Boots

I would like to say that, at this point, I have more feelings for these gorgeous boots than I think I ever could for any man!

Dating Against Type

I have a type, I can't seem to help it. I like tall, dark and handsome men. I know some people who have a type and some who don't. I definitely do. In order to change things up, I tried dating a blonde (ended up being a bad experience) and a ginger (also bad). A friend once criticized me for not being more open to different types, so when I had the opportunity to go short, fat, bald..... I did!
It was ridiculous. We looked silly together and he was so nervous on our second date that he ended up choking on his wine. After a long dinner with strained conversation and fighting horrible images of what our children might look like, I was not the first person in the restaurant to get up to help him out. He lived.
The moral of this story is that attraction is ingrained. I suppose that my attraction to tall, dark, handsome and older men may have something to do with my father, but I'd prefer not to go there.... I think it's a great idea to date different types and try new things but at this point, I'm also okay with sticking to what I like.

Superman

I met Superman at work. We ended up with cubicles beside each other, though thankfully we worked in different departments and the shared office space was only to be temporary (just like our relationship). We flirted with each other like mad and used to sneak out of the office for coffee or meet up for drinks after work. People were suspicious, especially his coworkers (he worked in IT and all of the IT nerds were in awe that a fellow IT nerd had scored!). Once our new spaces were determined and we didn't have to sit next to each other, we began dating. It was new and exciting and we were really anticipating getting it on, as we'd been tempting each other for months. Finally, we went out, got loaded and ended up in bed. I noticed that he had a Superman tattoo on his right shoulder and, I must admit, I was hoping for the best. What ended up occurring was the dirtiest, slimiest kink-fest ever. I've only ever had my body parts referred to with swear words before by men who I've been in close relationships with... I'm assuming that he'd learned most of his moves from porn. I nearly got whiplash from his not too subtle attempts to direct my head towards his kryptonite. He was and remains the only man who has ever spat on me during sex........ This was Superman sex.
We broke up shortly thereafter.

Re: Online Dating

I would like to tell you about the outfit that I finally picked for the ill-fated online date (please see post below). After many hours of consideration, I decided on skinny jeans tucked into high heel boots with a black button down shirt accented with a black sash belt and simple crystal earrings. Although I did not get any male feedback that evening, my supportive friend (who wholeheartedly joined me in getting SH*Tfaced that night) said I looked great......
I've put up a picture of jeans tucked into fringe boots, which was originally a suggestion for the evening but was quickly discarded as a first date option. Apparently, though, this look would be perfect for a daytime date, such as coffee or brunch.

If It's Not One Thing, It's My Mother

I was 26 years old when I broke up with a boyfriend that I had been seeing for 7 years. My mother was devastated. I clearly remember her sage advice at the time: "You know, Carrie Blogshaw, that it gets harder to meet people as you get older". She was right.
My mother, June Cleaver Blogshaw, is very concerned regarding the state of my love life at this time. Many of her friends children (who I used to babysit, I'd like to add) have gotten married and are now HAVING children. I, the eldest, remain single... This causes her (as well as myself!) great concern. In a passive aggressive attempt to remind me that I should get married, she used to leave the thank you cards from the weddings she attended at my place at the table. Sometimes I didn't recognize or had not even met the people in the pictures staring back at me. I moved out.
Two years ago, she attempted to set me up with one of her friends sons. I had some questions:
"Is he cute?"
"No"
"Is he tall?"
"No, he's short"
"Does he have dark hair?"
"He's bald"
We later found out that he has a terrible drinking problem and gets so drunk that he sometimes can't make it to the washroom and ends up urinating in house plants in the living room. I was shocked. My mom didn't seem so shocked and was quick to remind me that it wouldn't be much of a problem, as I have laminate floors......

Fag Hag

Yes, I've spent some time in that role. I love it. I love my gay friends and cherish my relationship with one person in particular, who acted as my "gay boyfriend" for two years while I lived abroad. However, when I got back I met the man of my dreams. If I could have drawn the perfect man, it would have looked just like him. He was gorgeous, tall, smart, funny, successfull, worldly and the most masculine man I'd ever met. I'd seen a psychic years before who had predicted that I would meet someone with a particular background, and this guy had that background. It was bizarre but so exciting. We met a few times but nothing ever happened and then he moved away for work. Still, a common friend continued to try to set us up, as we'd seemed like such a good match. This never worked out.
I have been crushing on this man on and off for 3 years, hoping that one day he would move back to the country and we could begin our romance (which had been building up in my head for too long). I got a call from our mutual friend this week to let me know why it was always so hard to set the two of us up.... The guy is gay.
I've been crushing on a gay guy for 3 years.
On a positive note, although it's a cruel loss for women (myself in particular), it's one hell of a gain for the dudes!

Self Help

Before anyone recommends that I seek help after reading these posts, I would like to let you know that I am very familiar with the Self Help sections at most book stores and I have become a fan of life coach Louise Hay.

Friends with Benefits

This was the most hilarious yet inapropriate proposal I have ever received from someone that I have dated. This happened in the summer of '08. I had just been passively broken up with (meaning: he had apparently decided that he didn't have enough time to devote to the relationship, but he had forgotten to tell me and decided that by stopping to communicate entirely, I might get the drift.....).

After 5 weeks of no communication (this was with Mr. Hello, Wall), I got an email from him. He told me he was not able to give 100% to the relationship at the time, but was wondering if I was interested in a friends with benefits situation. He felt that would be a way for us to both enjoy the summer without too many demands. Thanks for the suggestion!

I was unsure how to handle that one. At first, I thought it might be liberating for me to find my inner Samantha Jones and go ahead with the arrangement. That was, until, after searching for Samantha for a few days, all I was able to come up with was Charlotte. Also, I remembered that the sex hadn't been good for me, therefore this was no longer an option. In an effort to play the game and keep it friendly (we have friends in common), I jokingly replied to inquire about the benefits scheme he was offering. What sort of benefits were on offer? Was it competitive in the market place? I guess after faking orgasms for many, many years, I'd become good enough at it that he didn't even realize that I'd been unimpressed with his benefits for months!

A Post-It?

I got dumped by email.
After 3 months.
Not sure if a Post-It would have been more personal..............

Hello, Wall

Before my misadventures in online dating began, I did have the pleasure of meeting men in real time. My last dating experience involved a man who seemed decent when he would talk, but unfortunately for me, he spent most of his time not speaking. The second-last time that we went out (I felt I needed to see him one more tooth-pulling time before I would know FOR SURE that this was a waste of the pretty), I felt I needed to address the fact that he had propositioned a sex-only relationship and I did not agree. I feel, at this point in my life, that I am looking for more. In university, this might have been acceptable. In thirty-something land, this sh*t doesn't fly.
Compounding the non-speaking issue was the fact that, as hard as it was for him to talk, he was completely unable to discuss relationships of any kind (the one that we were in, the one he'd been in before, the ones I'd been in before...). I tried to explain to him (kindly) that I didn't feel comfortable with a "friends with benefits" relationship. He sat there and stared blankly at me while I struggled to shoot down the proposal. It was painful. It was like trying to talk to a wall. In hindsight, it was hilarious. At the time, it was "Hello, Wall".

Re: Online Dating, Take One

I would also like to point out that I spent 2 days and involved the input of several friends and coworkers to pick out the best possible outfit (plus 2 contingency outfits) for the date that never was......

Online Dating, Take One

This is my first post and the subject of this post is what inspired this blog. I've been experiencing a less-than-successful dating life for the past few years and some of my recent experiences have pushed me into territory that I never thought I would use to hopefully meet someone decent..... Yes, I went outside my comfort zone and into the world of ONLINE DATING.

I took some time to create a somewhat thoughtful profile (complete with photo carefully chosen so as to look pretty but not overly made up, friendly but not friendly in a guy's opinion, which would just be slutty, fun-loving but not drunk - it was hard to find a photo!) and let the magical world of digital dating take its course.

Four weeks, 76 viewings, 37 smiles received and 5 smiles sent later, I met someone decent online! He seemed decent, I should say. We had lots in common and had funny conversations over the highly impersonal instant messaging service. We made plans to meet well in advance, as I was busy travelling. After 2 weeks of waiting, we made a date, time and area to meet, but he wanted to choose the exact location. Fine with me! He took my number and said he would call me the next day to set it up but I never received the call. He never called me the day of the date or the evening of the date! I ended up at the pub that night with a friend, commiserating over several drinks. My friend told me that it could take 100 dates to fnd 1 decent man. I understand the logic, but how will I ever go on 100 dates when I can't get someone to show up for ONE???!!! I'm unbelievably frustrated.