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?