Wednesday, December 31, 2008
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!!!
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!"
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
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
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!
Monday, December 29, 2008
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.
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!!!
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?"
Ward: "Well, why is he not married at his age? He goes through girlfriends like Hefner. There must be something wrong with him"
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?"
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???!!!
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
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!
Sunday, December 21, 2008
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!
Monday, December 15, 2008
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...
Thursday, December 11, 2008
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!
Monday, December 8, 2008
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.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
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."
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!
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......
Saturday, December 6, 2008
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!