Hidden Treasures

Written By: Emily O’Neill

What are friends for if not to help facilitate breaking and entering?
Last week, I received an email marked urgent to my inbox at work. My
best friend, Liz, went home with a stranger and left her amethyst
cocktail ring on his bedside table. She didn’t even know the guy’s
name.

This is where you play detective and help your friend retrace her
steps to a pre-war building in Union Square and knock on the first
door to your right on all five floors. In searching for a man with a
British accent, you are disappointed to encounter only a handful of
born-and-bred Americans. Driven by desperation, your friend scribbles
a brief note addressed to no one, providing her phone number and a
plea for the jewel thief to please return the ring at once. She then
sticks it under door 541.

Despite my love of playing detective, my life does not have a Miss
Scarlet-in-the conservatory-with-the-wrench appeal to it. That’s for
amateurs. The femme fatale of my version of Clue would undoubtedly be
Miss Emily in the hallway with the bobby pin. Well, how apropos that
the Brit’s mailbox was opened just enough for someone to maneuver a
small object inside. Using my bobby pin, I attempted to expose the
name of Liz’s one-night stand by plucking a message from the slot.

Remember Ashton Kutcher's popular celebrity prank show, Punk'd? Well,
I felt like the victim of candid camera when, just as I had retrieved
the letter and felt confident that I was straight out of an Agatha
Christie novel, the Brit came cruising through the door. I was caught
red-handed.

This is one of countless misadventures that women in New York come
face-to-face with. The home of Bernie Madoff and A-Rod is undoubtedly
a place of enormous opportunity. But any woman in the five boroughs
will tell you that with a surplus of choices comes the option to never
commit. For those with the XY-chromosome, moving from job to job and
woman to woman is the norm. And although we are normally endowed with
a smidge of common-sense, honking horns, deafening bar music, and
pre-recession stock-market cheering have left women with an inability
to hear the voices in our heads, much less pay attention to them.

Well, whoever said that the hardest person to trust is an addict
wasn’t living in Manhattan. Those living within the five boroughs are
well acquainted with the fact that the hardest person to trust is the
man next to you. It’s a strange thing, dating in New York. For those
in the serial monogamist category, feeling abandoned and humiliated is
the norm. And just as trends start in New York, the craze to avoid
being emotionally connected to other people is spreading to other
cities, as well. In New Orleans, Christine has resorted to having an
affair with her married boss. Devastated by her boyfriend’s decision
to leave her for a recent SMU graduate in his home state of Texas,
Holly quit her job in DC and headed for Austin. And in New York,
constant rejection has prompted Liz to replace men with drugs and
date-nights with late-nights frequenting warehouses in Brooklyn.

Of course, there are some success stories—or, as “He’s Just Not That
Into You” would call it— the exceptions. For instance, Andrew and
Jonathan— my two gay friends living in Boston— just announced their
engagement. And after years of playing the field, my friend Chris—now
thirty-five-- has finally proposed. Just last week my one non-single
girlfriend told her boyfriend that their relationship lacked passion,
only to have him reply with “I have passion for you.”

If parting is as sweet a sorrow as Juliet once said it is, then there
should be a nectarous rhyme to the reason that my personal Romeo of
11-months keeps turnings on his heel. Until I figure that out, I
continue to search for missing treasures.

Bad Boys

Written By: Dara King

It is said that every girl likes a bad boy. The good guys never finish first. I myself prefer a tattooed, tight pants wearing, young professional-- a doctor on a motorcycle, stethoscope flying in the wind. Although I like that perfect mix of good guy gone bad. Am I adverse to dating wholesome, plain, nice guys?

Counting my past relationships, I realized my good boy vs. bad boy scale tipped overwhelmingly to the bad boy side. What is it with girls and their bad boys? I mean I am an upstanding young lady. I don’t curse, I don’t drink, I don’t smoke, and I keep the partying to a minimum. Yet I like a boy who does all of the above. My only requirement on the good boy scale is employment.

Bad boys are like high heels. You know when you tried them on in the store that you wouldn’t be able to walk very far in them. But they were beautiful, and they made you look so skinny. But they weren’t a perfect fit. And you purchased them even though you knew you would only wear them to one party and they would spend the rest of their lives in your closet looking pretty.

That is a bad boy. You meet him and you know he wont fit you. But you try him on. And you mull over it. And in the end, you decide to take him out for a spin. And then after a painful few weeks, or even months of dating you realize what you knew when you first decided to purchase. They just don’t fit.

So you break up and he becomes just another in your closet full of skeletons. You may even decide to wear flats for a while and vow never to buy heels again. But then you go to the store. And you see the beautiful Proenza Schouler heels on the shelf and you want to try them on because they are just so beautiful… it’s the Justin Bobby effect for all of those who watch the Hills (I know you all do).

Long Distance Relationships

Written By: Dara King

Long distance relationships never work. At least they never work for me. The saying “absence makes the heart grow fonder” Never really worked for me. It was in the same unrealistic vain as a “penny saved, a dollar earned”. I embraced the mantra ‘a dollar spent is a shoe in the closet’ just as I embraced the philosophy “out of sight, out of mind”. So as soon as a boyfriend moved away, no matter how in love we once were, our ships soon sailed on to other destinies.

I once dated a man that lived in Brooklyn. Even though I was hesitant to travel to any borough outside of Manhattan, I dutifully trekked to see him a couple times a week. I was impressed with myself. I embraced this new bi-coastal lifestyle like I was a jet-setting A-lister. With me being on the East River and he on the Atlantic Ocean, we were seas apart.

Our distance became more apparent when I finally asked him to meet me in Manhattan instead me coming to Brooklyn. Even through the phone line, I heard the panic in his voice. He repeated the word Manhattan like I asked him to visit me in the jungles of the Amazon. Eventually he agreed.

We were supposed to meet at Columbus Circle. I took a rickshaw there (yes, a rickshaw… I believe in experiencing life) and patiently waited. An hour later and 23 phone calls to his cell phone (each phone call going straight to voice mail) I gave up and went home. It was too much for him to handle, my long distance lover was not coming to see me.

An hour later I received a frantic phone call. He had been on the subway for the past hour (yes, it literally takes that long to get to Manhattan from Brooklyn) and now he was lost on the mean streets of the Upper West Side. Hearing the panic in his voice I asked him “Haven’t you ever been to Manhattan?” He informed me that he hadn’t been to Manhattan in over a year and even then he never went past 14th St.

I was shocked. We were more than an island apart, we were worlds apart. People come from Tokyo to visit Manhattan and they fare better than he was. With that realization and despite his panic, I left him there. We never spoke again. While I am all for traveling to foreign lands, I decided it is probably best to keep my relationships local.

To Flirt Or Not To Flirt

Written By: Ashley Morgan

Dating someone long distance means having to survive in a weird symbiotic relationship where you get all the loneliness of being single coupled with the constant agony of missing someone you love. Luckily, it gets easier over time. I’ve learned that with patience, trust, and most importantly, unlimited texting, dating long distance can be almost bearable.

But other things in my life have changed outside of my cell phone plan. For one thing, I shave a lot less often. Why bother when I know no one will be feeling my legs? Another change is my attitude about long phone conversations. I used to hate them but now, they’re kind of necessary. But the most notable change for me is my going out routine.

Before I met my guy, I would get all done up in one of my ‘going out-fits’ which included lots of sparkle and little fabric. I’d dance with my girlfriends and thoroughly enjoy collecting free drinks, compliments, and the occasional sloppy make out with a friendly classmate in a dark corner of a sleazy bar.

Then I started seeing my boyfriend. We’d go out together. Me, in a more understated yet still adorable outfit, getting drinks for each other while occupying said corner with him.

However, now that we’re apart, I find myself pausing in front of my closet when I’m getting ready for a night of drinks and dancing. Do I reach for my fun, flirty outfits when I’m clearly not looking for anyone? Is it wrong to advertise when the goods aren’t up for sale?

I tend to think no. Sure, I’m happily in a relationship but I still want to look great and have a good time. My friends are mostly single and looking for Mr. Right Now so they’re decked out in their finest; I’m just trying to keep up.

I have limits of course. You won’t see me getting dirty on the dance floor with the nearest available crotch. But I will bust a move with my friends in my sexy heels. I tend to not accept drinks from people—I don’t like to lead guys on—that being said, if they insist…who am I to be rude?

Sounds like I have it all under control, right?

Nope.

Although I am an independent person and I know my boyfriend is very trusting, I feel a little guilty when I go out without him. I’m always thinking, ‘Am I dancing too close to this guy?’ ‘Should I have laughed at his joke?’ ‘Was that flirting?’

My rule of thumb is, if the tables were turned, would I be upset if he was doing what I’m doing? If yes, I change my behavior. But it doesn’t stop the guilt. Like say my friends are trying to work a group of guys and I’m cockblocking by not flirting with the guy no one wants. Do I screw over my friends to be faithful in my relationship?

Another one of my friends is in a long distance relationship as well. She is of the mindset that being ostentatious in anyway is a type of infidelity. In her defense, she was never a big fan of going out and her boyfriend is the jealous type. But I’m not going to only go out in a burqa and avoid any hip swinging. I’m going to enjoy myself, single or taken.

As for the guilt, I’ll gauge each situation as it comes, try to keep the girls in check, and end each night out with a text that lets my guy know just how much I love him.

She's With The Band

Written By: Emily O’Neill

On a recent Saturday at the National Underground, the Texas-style music venue in the Lower East Side, I ran into Becky, my old friend from college.

“Don’t look now, but I’m dating the drummer!” she squealed. “Well, one date. But he did invite me here tonight.”

While I’m not known for being a willing ear or a frequent dispenser of good advice, my immaculate heart couldn’t resist reaching out to my dear friend. And so, to my surprise and the sheer disbelief of my closest gal pals, I managed to dole out my first practical tip for evading heartache: to take that one last shot of tequila and then run.

Judging by my actions of late, it seems that I’m a bit common-sense disabled. Coupled with the indisputable fact that I’m a lightning rod for unwholesome men, the consequence is that I recently found myself on the fourth and final date with the semi-famous drummer of a legendary band.

Rather than indulging in my usual routine of sulking and harping on what might have been, I’ve set out on a goodwill mission, devoting myself entirely (at times I exaggerate) to warning women about the perils of dating men with star-studded hearts. Although peace, love and drugs seems glamorous to those of us who were captivated by the rock n’ roll world of tour buses and “band-aids” illuminated in Cameron Crowe's Almost Famous, dating a musician is right up there with attacking Israel on Yom Kippur or the Treaty of Versailles. It’s just a really bad call.

As with all relationships, being in the eye of the storm renders you incapable of seeing the danger around you. This is especially true when it comes to men in the music industry since they are, by definition (mine, probably not Webster’s), purveyors of bad-boy status. Emitting high levels of untamed masculinity and confidence, musicians are undeniably aphrodisiacs in themselves. Case in point: I received a voicemail from Becky yesterday. “Why didn’t you stop me? All he talked about was himself!" she screamed. "All he cared about was HIS needs! He’s the Bill Clinton of the band world!”

Alas, the stereotypes about band dudes seem to be true. Ask anyone who has dated a musician and they will confirm that their guitar-strapped Don Juan was narcissistic (“His ego is so big he doesn’t even realize he’s balding”), financially irresponsible (Why am I supporting him?”), impervious to criticism (“He thinks he dumped me!”), and has a sincere aversion to growing up. Essentially, they are male versions of me.

Of course, I am not referring to men who were once members of their high school marching band, attended the Juilliard School, or spent years preparing to become an orchestral player for the New York Philharmonic. Seeing as it's not cool to put time, effort, or energy into anything these days (look no further than the hipster craze and the paperless post trend), these accomplishments are the epitome of nerdy. Rather, I am talking about rock stars who learned early on that the easiest way into any in-crowd is through unstructured, uncivil, and slightly out of control behavior. These men were probably not known for their good grades in school, and they sure won't be earning A's in my book anytime soon.

Being up close and personal has its perks. But when it comes to members of the band, I will be opting for the cheap seats in the back.

A Man And A Vehicle

Written By: Dara King

For some reason, men think being stationary decreases their chances of picking up women. I rarely get approached by a man at a club or a gathering that seems like the appropriate time for exchanging information. Instead, men usually seem to feel most comfortable when in the security of a moving vehicle. It is like when you were 11 and your mother arrived to pick you up in the car pool lane. At that stage in your life, you were too cool to acknowledge her and she embarrassingly yelled your name until you responded. Men use the same tactic.

We have all had those men that yell out the windows of their cars telling you how much they want to get to know you. It is as if men expect you to go cheetah on them and chase their cars down the street. Or even worse, yell your number at the top of your lungs and then wink and say call me. It is like their car is their armor and if you shoot them with bullets of rejection, they can quickly drive to safety without too much collateral damage.

Point in case: I seem to be a Maserati magnet. Walking through the streets of Manhattan, I seem to stop Maserati owners in their tracks. Why, I do not know. I would never give a man my number who is in a car regardless if the car costs more than most suburban houses.

But Maseratis aren’t the only moving vehicles that seem to bolster a man’s confidence. Taxicabs offer free rides, bus drivers nearly run over school kids while yelling at the lady walking up the street. I even had a man once ask me for my number on a crowded bus while he was comfortably sitting and I was standing in 5inch heels. He didn’t even have the decency to offer me a seat before going in for the kill.

What is it about a man and a vehicle? In the history of mankind, has there ever been a woman that has walked up to a man in a car and gave him her number? I am beginning to suspect that there has been. It is either a successful pick up tactic that I do not know about or it is a knee jerk reaction akin to boobs walk past, man looks.

Whatever it is, just like I didn't respond to my mom yelling at me from the carpool lane (and she often sped off to teach me a lesson... and in that case, I often did go cheetah and chase her car down the street) I feel that most women don't respond to the battle cries being yelled out the window. But for those 2 percent that do, I judge you. You give men that false sense of confidence that the rest of women kind have to deal with on a daily basis. Thank you.

Upgrade

Written By: Dara King

The other day on the subway, I saw a man with a Walkman. Since I
haven’t seen a Walkman in years, I thought to myself, does this
man know the meaning of upgrade? On the same train, a few seats
down was an older gentleman with a younger wife and much younger
children. Considering my earlier question, I realized this man
was probably on his second wife and second set of children—and
that he obviously understood the concept of upgrading.

This led me to think, what is the benefit of upgrading? Why isn’t
love like a house? Why doesn’t love appreciate over the years or
at least gain that comfy lived-in feeling that can’t be
replicated by the new condo across the street? On the flipside,
why would you stay in the tiny brownstone when you could live in
the high rise with the skyline views?

Having recently upgraded my old PC to a brand new shiny Mac, I am
no stranger to wanting the newest and latest model. I am in my
early 20s and I prefer to date men who are in their mid 30s. I
figure that at 10- 15 years younger than them, I have enough of a
shelf life to survive their mid-life crisis before being traded
in for my younger counterpart. I also figure that by the time
they are looking at my blue book value, I may be ready to trade
them in for a younger model as well, so no love is lost.

But then I step back and look at my logic. I once had a friend
tell me that she thought her current boyfriend would make a great
“first” husband. Is this what love is supposed to be? Is it love
until your first tune-up? Or are we still abiding by till death
do us part? I see cute couples on the subway and hope to be that
one-day. I have parents who have been married for 25+ years and
are still in love. It is beyond cute. But since I need a new
Blackberry every 6 months; I am programmed with the idea of built
in obsolescence and unfortunately I am convinced that an upgrade
will always be—oh so necessary.

Friend Sex

Written By: Dara King

We all have that friend that we have slept next to fully clothed
and not once pondered what that person looks like naked. The
friend who announces he is coming over and you throw your dirty
underwear that’s on the floor in the hamper but don’t bother to
wash the dishes in the sink. He is the friend that has seen you
in your glasses and sweats as many times as he has seen you in a
dress and heels.

We all have these friends. That is, we all have these friends
until we don’t. One day while watching the football game and
throwing back a chicken coup full of chicken wings you suddenly
look at that friend in a different light. Who knows what the
reason is, you may be in a yearlong drought or you may just be
bored with the football game, but the next thing you know, you
are sleeping next to your friend without a stitch of clothing in
sight.

This is when it all gets confusing. You suddenly find yourself
asking-- can men and women be legitimate, platonic friends? With
all the games played between the two sexes, is it possible to
have a perfectly good player on the bench that never wants, or
gets to play in the game?

You are now looking at your friend in bed. He just quickly went
from spectator to pinch hitter and now you have to decide whether
to promote or to demote; whether he is now a starter or whether
you to have to cut him from the team. This is always the
unfortunate situation faced when one engages in friend sex.


We all know at this point the relationship has changed. Will
there be more sex? Or will this incident never be mentioned
again. Is he now a boyfriend or still just a friend? If he still
is just a friend, what happens when he tells you about the chick
he just met at the bar the other night?


We all know the answer. He has to be cut from the team. Friend
sex is never good sex, no matter how toe curling, sweaty, and
hair pulling the actual event is. My best advice is to avoid all
friend sex at any cost. But then again, I am the same woman who
usually errs on the side of avoiding men at all costs and filling
your life with shoes instead.

Falling Asleep on the Job

Written By: Sarah Jacobsen

I had an embarrassing experience a few weekends back. We’ve all been there – those nights when we drink a bit too much and think we’re superwomen capable of hours of fabulous sex without dozing off. Oh, is that just me? I had one such evening recently. It was all the fault of the sake bombs at my favorite sushi restaurant (and maybe the fault of those soco and lime shots too). I don’t know what it is, but it seems alcohol just makes people want to get it on. It’s a terrible side effect, really – when you think about it, not only does the drink make you look uglier and act sloppier, but often, it renders you unable to get the job done. It hits your bloodstream and suddenly you want to have sex with everyone around you, and yet, you’re often too tipsy to do so.

Gentlemen often complain that alcohol incapacitates their member. Ever heard the phrase whiskey dick? Well, it doesn’t just happen with whiskey. Men are criticized for these moments, moments when they’ve simply had one beer too many and are unable to get it up, let alone get it in. But what happens when the tables are turned? When the girl is the one who can barely keep her eyes open? Do the men hate like the ladies do? Certainly, there’s something to be said for a blue-balling experience. We all know no one likes that. But should the gals be as embarrassed as the guys when one too many makes them a bad hookup buddy?

Men, I need your opinion here. After my failure to perform (and by failure to perform, I mean I’m pretty sure I fell asleep), I apologized profusely. Come morning, I was shameful, though the feeling was momentarily shut out by the thudding headache that accompanied my horrible hangover. Is this cause for a dismissal? My friend with benefits and I have no rules, and we’re certainly not exclusive. But lord knows what I said when I didn’t know I was saying anything at all. I’m hoping it was nothing offensive, but at the very least I know things were supposed to happen that didn’t because I was unable to operate any sort of machinery.

My guy says it’s fine. He forgives me; but I’ve got to make it up to him. The problem is, with my beer goggles on, I’m all for getting it on. But once I take them off and my hangover subsides, I see that we’ve got nothing in common and I don’t really care to do much at all. But since I’ve already propositioned him while tipsy, I feel a bit caught. Must I hold up my end of the deal? Why is it that I’m so enraptured by him when I’m sloppy but once I’ve cleaned myself up I have no interest in him? I may have fallen asleep on the job, but now that I’ve woken up, I’m lost in a state of guilt mixed with relief. One thing is sure: sake bombs aren’t for me. As for my inability to follow through when I’ve had too much to drink, I’m lucky I’ve been forgiven. Where we go from here, however, I’m unclear. Any and all suggestions appreciated!

Don’t Judge a Book by its Text Message

Written By: Sarah Jacobsen

In grade school we were taught not to judge a book by its cover. This meant that if the girl next to us wore ugly shoes and smelled funny, we were still supposed to be her friend, and if the boy two-seats-ahead in our Math class wore the same shirt every day and had a weird haircut, we were still supposed to give him a chance. Now that we’ve grown, we’re taught that we can’t judge a person by their looks. But what about their text messages?

Call me judgmental, but I think there’s quite a bit that can be told from a text. This is a modern age, and I’m a modern gal. The text is as ubiquitous as the email, and is often used in place of a phone call. In the olden days, women over-analyzed their calls, discussing everything from word choice to tone of voice.

If this is so, why can’t we analyze the text? Recently, I was set up on a blind date. In texting back and forth with my date (who, I should note, chose to text instead of call and I did not judge him on his choice), I came across a big no-no in my book: what I like to call “the LOL.” Since seventh grade, when “the LOL” overtook my class notes and AOL Instant Messenger conversations, I’ve despised it. I’m proud to say I’ve never used it in a conversation, mostly because I rarely find myself in situations where I’m laughing out loud to the extent that I need to write down that I’m doing so. I despise the way it looks and the way it sounds; I’d even go as far as to say I believe it makes the speaker sound dumb.

This being said, in my date’s first text, I was hit square on with not just one “LOL” but two. I might add here that my date is almost thirty, way past an age during which usage of the terrible abbreviation could be seen as acceptable. I was immediately turned off. Would I be dating a guy who acted younger than he was? Was he a frat boy who couldn’t carry on a legitimate conversation? Terrible possibilities swarmed my brain…

…Until some friends snapped me back to reality. I was being way too judgmental, they claimed. I couldn’t judge a guy on his text message, especially not on his usage of one specific word. The thing I hadn’t divulged? He was also a “u” type of guy. It’s another pet peeve of mine. As an English major, I always prefer that those around me spell out full words. A “C U Later” doesn’t do it for me; I’d like the real thing. The angel on my right shoulder told me to get a life and stop giving my date such a hard time. I hadn’t even met him yet. He could be the one! Except that my one wouldn’t say “LOL.” I’m sorry, angel, but he just wouldn’t.

The devil in me wants to judge, but my angel has prevailed. I’m meeting him for drinks next week. If he talks the way he texts, I’m outta there. But in the meantime, I’m going to attempt to keep my judgmental thoughts where they below – in my imagination, because as my mother taught me, you can’t judge a book by it’s cover, and you most certainly cannot judge a man by his text message.

Playing It Cool: The Phone Call Screen

Written By: Sarah Jacobson

When I was young, I told myself that someday, when men chased me around, I’d “screen all my phone calls” like Gwen Stefani did in my favorite song of the era, “Don’t Speak.” However, now that I’ve grown up and men aren’t exactly chasing me around as often as they did in my childhood dreams, I’ve had fewer opportunities to do so. Such a chance arose for me recently via a blind date set up by a family friend, and, willing to take the plunge, I gave out my phone number to said potential date. I hoped that when he called, it would show up as a number I didn’t recognize, and my screening sixth sense would immediately kick in.

No such luck. When my date did call, I not only picked up the phone thinking it was someone else, but made him feel awkward about the fact that I’d been hoping to screen. Additionally, I had a crazy weekend coming up, and asked if it would be all right if I gave him a call on Sunday. Strike one against me, clearly. Hoping to clear the air, I sent a text message later that evening apologizing for my awkwardness over the phone and promised to give him a call in a few days. As promised, on Sunday evening, I picked up the phone and called him back.

My date, it seems, was one step ahead of me. Not only did he screen my call (which I congratulated him for in my message), but after two days, he still hadn’t returned the favor. Now, it’s one thing to screen, but it’s quite another to make a girl wait. I’m a single twenty-something who went out on a limb to even accept the offer of a blind date (what on earth was I thinking?), and here he is making me think I said something wrong by mentioning the screen.

I have, as I said above, always been a fan of the screen. It gives you a chance to evaluate the person calling on their voice, their composure, and most of all, their choice of words. Following the above experience, however, I’m beginning to wonder if I am, as I’m often told, “too judgmental.” Is the screen a bad thing? Am I the only one who employs this tactic? No. I’m not. I know for sure that I’m not. But I’m beginning to think that what turned off my potential date was the fact that I mentioned “the screen” – I shouldn’t have said “I’d have done the same”, because now it seems he thinks I’m an asshole who screens all her calls and then judges her potential dates. Which, I suppose, I am.

What does this mean for my dating future? More importantly, what does it mean for the city of New York, an island that probably collectively screens their calls more than any other city in the country? I’m looking for some input here, men of New York. Was it a bad move to joke about the screen? Clue me in. Is the screen the muggle dating world equivalent of mentioning Voldemort?
~
My date called on Wednesday evening. Three nights had passed since the message in question, and I did as I always do – I let the call go to voicemail. He didn’t mention the screen in his message. We’ve got a date for this weekend. Perhaps it is all about the screen.

Finding The One, and Why We Shouldn’t Need to Find Him

Written By: Sarah Jacobson

From the moment we pop out of the womb, women are inundated with hetero normative signs. For those who find that word a bit big to swallow, we’re talking the pink blankets and pink clothes, the fact that we’re taught in kindergarten that if a boy hits you atop the head it means he likes you, the fact that if in seventh grade he spreads an evil rumor about you it means he like likes you. All that jazz, in short, prepares the heterosexual woman for a long life of attempting to find Prince Charming among a selection of seemingly toad-like individuals. Society programs us to begin our hunt for “the one” quite early on, which is probably why once we start, we just can’t stop.

Everyone knows a serial monogamist. You know, the type of girl who swears that after her last disastrous relationship, she’s just going to “take some time to focus on herself” but has a new boyfriend by the end of the week. Feminists claim this particular breed of woman doesn’t feel secure with herself and keeps a steady string of men around in order to boost her self-esteem. Shy girls call these women sluts. The women themselves? They claim they can’t help it – they just keep meeting people they like.

The idea of a need for constant attention plays its part, certainly. There’s no denying that everyone wants to be wanted. It’s a basic human instinct to crave attention. Perhaps the serial monogamists tend to crave it a bit more than their non-monogamous peers, though it could be argued that those who sleep around are just as bad as the perpetual daters. What it comes down to, however, is the want we’re instructed to think is natural from birth – the want for “the boy” to like “the girl.” It’s why girls who have one guy in one state will have one in another for the summer and tell themselves that neither one means much (but they both mean a lot). It’s why women go to bars in short skirts (super feminists, quit your wining, I know you dress for yourself).

What is it with this need? Is it true that women can’t be truly satisfied if they don’t have a man by their side? The concept of finding “the one” seems outdated at best, but the tenants of the idea – the thought of having a partner who knows your ups and downs and insides and outs and will stick with you through anything is an appealing one. Not to mention, when you put it like that, it doesn’t sound bad. Why shouldn’t we women consistently have a man at our side, a guy who tells us we look pretty even when we smell and are wearing our sweatpants? Don’t we have the right to feel good about ourselves, to enjoy the company of someone we like?

Of course we do. The issue at hand isn’t the right to have a guy, it’s the need. We’re taught that we need a man in order to complete ourselves – that we’re unable to stand on our own two feet. If we’re not looking for a relationship, we’re either weird or jaded, and if we’re looking for one too often, we’re needy. We can’t win! Society has, in a sense, set us up to fail. What’s a girl to do? For starters, we’ve got to learn to stand on our own – to tell ourselves we look beautiful even in our sweatpants. Once you get used to living with yourself, then bring in the man. As my dear Carrie Bradshaw says, maybe we’re our own white knights. Is that so bad?

Wait… You Aren’t the Only One in His Universe?

Written By: Alex G. Smith

So you make it to the first date of coffee and lunch. You indulge in dinner dates, movies, and flawless conversation and you think, “Wow, this guy is too good to be true. I’ve finally found Mr. Right.” Everything seems to be going so well—then you catch his peripheral vision checking out another girl.

Living in Los Angeles has its good and bad, pros and cons. You can order delivery at one in the morning, and there is always something to do regardless of how much money you have. However, living in metropolitan cities, including New York and Los Angeles, have underlying drawbacks. When you’re single, you might enjoy embracing the club scenes, nightlife, and are just looking to have a good time. But when you’ve been with someone long enough to develop something resembling a semblance of feeling, it suddenly feels like every woman who walks down the street is a model or actress—point is, their all very attractive.

Now, my experience in this field is based on an event that happened a few years ago. I was younger, but even now, still look back and laugh because of the absurdity of it all. I was having a conversation with my now ex-boyfriend about the split of Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt. I had made a lackadaisical, off-handed remark about how Pitt should have divorced Aniston prior to messing around with Angelina Jolie. My ex simply said, “Well, the truth is if Angelina Jolie walked into the room, any guy would have to “do” her.”

Hence the break-up several months later. What a loss. In any case, my young self got very irritated at this news. After enduring my fury of “So you would just cheat because of who she is, regardless of us being together?” my ex obliviously looked at me and said, 
“You’re getting mad at me as if it will actually happen!”

It was suddenly so clear. I was the silver medal to his gold (Jolie) and in reality he had done nothing wrong except mouthing-off a hard truth. I am here now, so that’s what matters. But if Jolie's car broke down outside of his apartment and needed to use his Triple A card, I’d be out of a boyfriend.

This caused me to stew for two years after. I assumed that no man could really be satisfied with a TV dinner when there’s a prime rib on his Internet Browser or located on his On Demand. But since being pessimistic is more depressing than anything else, I decided to give it another shot. Unfortunately for my new guy, I jumped into the relationship with guns blazing, preparing myself for a letdown with his wondering eye.

All was going well, until one night, we were driving down Melrose and from the corner of my eye, I saw her. Tall, and too skinny to balance in her heals with so much top-heaviness. The “little green monster” in me immediately went to watching his gaze. And like a normal human being, he had seen her too. Now, I am far from the Hollywood stereotype that has set the stage for our “sexy” standards. For one thing, I eat food. I am also a red head, and never considered any sort of augmentation, except it is apparent that LA women get their “girls” done like most people get a haircut. How could I compete with that?

After that, all I could see in my vision was “THREAT” blinking in front of my face like a mental pop-up. The dance went like this: I’d see a group of cute young girls emerge from a club on Melrose or Santa Monica, I’d watch his gaze, then I’d sit fermenting in anger while he rambled on about something I couldn’t hear because I was so filled with self-pity.

After a while, he finally spoke up. He told me I had made him paranoid about looking around, and he was exhausted with me constantly watching him, making sure he didn’t notice the exact same person I had noticed. That was exactly what I needed to hear.

We are visual creatures, no doubt about it. We like looking at pretty things, analyzing what makes them attractive and just enjoying the view, whether it be a man, woman, or a flower. It was unfair of me to watch his eyes when I had noticed the exact same person. We are not afraid of our guys looking around, but more so worried about what he is thinking about them.

A friend of mine was upset because she found some “videos” on her boyfriends browsing history. She asked me, “Is that what he wants me to look like? Is that what he finds attractive?”

I then asked her, after dealing with similar problems with an ex, if she ever looked at “videos” herself.

“Well yeah,” she replied, “but that’s different. He is looking at bimbos that are superficial and fake. How can I compete with someone who has paid to look so perfect?”

All I could say was the truth — He’s not looking to these videos to find a life partner, that’s what a relationship is. He was simply looking for a quick fix to get his rocks off while she was at work. And one shouldn’t throw stones at glass houses. Jealousy is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.

I have found that there is a huge difference between “enjoying the painting” and “jumping into the scenery.” If you’re at a restaurant and you have an attractive waiter bringing you your food, the night with your guy will end up quite nice. But if an attractive waitress comes into the picture, then there’s a whole lot more going on in your head than what you’re getting for dessert. Does he think she’s cute? Did he ask for the wine list just so he had an excuse to talk to her? Maybe he does think she’s cute, because you’re already thinking it yourself. But in the long run, this “competitiveness” will actual be the downfall for your relationship.

When a guy is slightly jealous, it can be adorable. But you would never want to date a guy who watched your very move and guilt trips you into feeling shamefaced for looking around. And he does not want to be with a girl who he constantly needs to reassure—it’s apparently very fatiguing.

The woman every good guy wants is one who is confident in herself, and in her relationship. No one likes to be blamed for something they haven’t even done. It is the obsession that has caused women to be so hateful and competitive towards each other. Yes, there is a difference between a glance and a guy who has a wondering eye, but that judgment is inevitably up to you. Most girls do not have the intention of steeling away your man, and most good guys are not looking around to find a replacement for you.

I have basically given in to his wishes. I refuse to be the jealous girlfriend who constantly gets annoyed by these inevitable factors and tests in life. There will always be cute, young, fit girls walking the streets and running their errands. There will always be a cute girl at the checkout line at Ralph's, and it is within your power to either be the distressing paranoid girl who gives these other girls dirty looks, or the self assured and kind woman who can smile and think, “wow, a lot of women are really beautiful and that’s okay.” A week ago, my guy told me he was at his friends’ house, and a girl at the pool lost her top. Sure, he saw her without a top for a few seconds, but do I care anymore? No. I might have when I was younger and self-doubting. Because in the end, I have developed a trust, and that is much more important in the relationship and dating world than worrying about “what could happen.”

Call me cliché, but at the end of the day, he is in my bed and not in the girl on the street. There are times to be jealous, and with good ruling, you can realize that. Then there are times to roll with the punches. I know there will be a lot more girls for him to admire in the future, but as long as true feelings are there with me and he doesn’t instigate a bond with them, it is just to tiring to care. When you are in a monogamous standing, you feel like any pretty thing he lays his eyes on could defeat you. Men have “bros before…”well you know. What do women have but unnecessary rivalry? It’s time for this silly competition to end between women, because in the long run, you lose, and you have no one to blame but your own distrust.

Is He too Good to be True?

Written By: Porsche Simpson

Do you think we meet people that are too good to be true, or is that person just actually incredibly fantastic? Because let's put the shoe on our other foot for a second. Say you met a man or woman and they thought YOU were too good to be true. The words that extracted forth from your mouth were perfect to them, and let's not forget about how beautiful they thought you were. If they tell you that you're too good to be true, are you going to deny it and see it as this horrible put down, or agree and say "Hell yeah, I sure am?"

I ask this because a new guy in my life seems to always know the perfect thing to say in order to put a smile on my face. We met almost two months ago while I was enjoying a girl’s night out. We talk often and he's absolutely great, and of course handsome. But he falls under the too good to be true category.

Why? well because apparently he thinks I'm the most beautiful girl in California, and he has no problems telling me all the time. He's the type of guy that girls dream about. I wake up and find the sweetest messages on my cell that he sends while I'm sleeping. He wants to make me smile and feel great; his words not mine. Now don't get me wrong, all this is great but I guess since I'm not used to a guy being so caring (sad I know) I'm not sure how to react.

It's ridiculous when you have bad luck with men, or women, because when a great one comes along you expect them to be another asshole like the last one. But don't we want better for ourselves?

So when I get messages such as: "Just in case nobody has complimented you today, you are the hottest girl on Earth.."

Do I sleep with one eye open because who knows how many other girls he's telling this too (although he claims none) or take it for what it is...a guy who wants to make me happy unlike the past jerks in my life?

What do you think?

A Girl’s Guide for Guys: The First Date

Written By: Sarah Jacobson

First dates are tough. Reading the signals of a person you’ve just met is a difficult task, and one that should be proceeded towards with utmost caution. I tend to meet my first dates at Starbucks. It’s a neutral location – there are always plenty of people around, so if it turns out the guy is a total weirdo, the big guy with the venti frappucino can protect you.

Additionally, the average person drinks some form of coffee/tea/water, so the coffee shop appeals to all types. Most importantly, a coffee date can only go on so long. If things are super awkward, you can finish your drink and say, “Well, it was so lovely to meet you” and end things right then and there.

If it goes well, you can bat your eyes and say, “how about dinner?”

So, gentlemen, let’s say that we’re at Starbucks. We’re on a first date. We’ve recognized one another, grabbed our drinks, and picked a table. Here are some things you, as the man, should know:

Please don’t stare at the girl you’re with. It’s one thing to make eye contact and act as though you’re hanging onto every word we’re saying, but enough is enough. Do be attentive, but the whole staring contest thing just doesn’t work in your favor. It makes you look like you’ve got a tinge of serial killer in your eyes, and we don’t like it.

Don’t just talk about yourself for an hour. We get it. You really love going to the gym and your job is fantastic and your life is just really freaking fabulous. We’re glad to hear you have a younger sister and two dogs at home and an overbearing mother, but once again, enough is enough. Try to work in a question after your statements. Let’s try it together: “I have two dogs at home. Do you have any pets?” See? Simple. Easy. Done and done.

Don’t tell us you don’t like coffee. Or tea. Or water, for that matter. If you don’t like any of these things, you should not have agreed to meet us at Starbucks. We also don’t care if you don’t like vegetables, or fruit, or meat. In fact, we don’t care if you subsist on foraged nuts and berries from the backwoods of upstate New York, so long as you don’t ask us to do the same. We’re not expecting you to be totally agreeable, but admitting that you have really weird eating and drinking habits while we’re supposed to be eating and drinking isn’t going to do either of us any good.

So what can you do? It’s simple, really. Laugh at our jokes. Tell us we look nice. Ask questions that correspond to our statements, and offer something of your own to compliment them. Don’t brag, but don’t sit there like a statue. We do want to hear what you have to say – we just want to hear it in doses. If you think things are going well, do ask for our number, and do call. Don’t make us wait three days just to play it cool, and leave a message if we screen your call (which we inevitably will). Most of all; be yourself, because it does neither of us any good to pretend to be something you’re not.

Once the date is over, please read our signals. If we don’t invite you back to our place, we probably don’t want you there. Here are some helpful hints.

If we say, “Well, I have to go, I’m making dinner for my roommates,” do NOT interpret this as an invitation. If we wanted you there, we‘d say, “I’m making something yummy for dinner tonight, would you like to join me?”

If we say, “It was really great to meet you, I had a wonderful time” and pause for effect; ask for our number. We’re waiting for you to make the next move. If you walk us home and we pause at the door, we’re waiting for a goodbye kiss. Especially if we fumble with our keys.

Don’t go in for said kiss in the middle of a crowded Starbucks. Whatever urges you’re feeling, they’ll be just as strong in your bed. PDA is never classy, and we’ll probably be embarrassed if you start sloppily making out with us at the table (even if we want to do it too).


 Lastly, do call. Please call. If you don’t plan to call, don’t lead us on by asking for our number. We’re not fragile creatures, but we do have hearts, and those hearts are easily hurt by the lack of a ringing phone. Not that we’ll be sitting with our phone clutched to our chest (ok, we will), but we’d appreciate a call, because chances are, if you felt something, we felt it too, and we can’t wait to do something about it.

Superficial Vs. Substance- What Makes a Better Date?

Written By: Alex G. Smith

As I was standing in line at a local grocery store, I couldn’t help but get bombarded by the unbelievable amount of women’s magazines in my sight. All I wanted to do was buy some orange juice and a pack of gum. Now, I’m wondering if I need to know the “secrets” to perfect hair, perfect skin, and which foundation will match my fake tan. I am so proud of my generation’s priorities. Not one of these magazines can tell you how to be more confident or accept your body type without trying to sell you something.

“Your mouth isn’t big enough? Buy this lip plumper—He’ll be dazzled by your big and pretty pucker!” Or “Loose that flab by following our cardio workout. All you’ll need is a yoga ball, weights, and a mat—He’ll compliment your tiny waist.”

Give me a break...

No wonder it’s hard to find a real and true person to date when everyone is brainwashed with idiocracy, bullcrap, and having little else to connect on. It’s one thing to want to appear put-together and sexy to gain that initial attraction, but you cannot build a relationship based on being attractive. I could be on a date with a male model who read every subscription of “Muscle and Fitness Magazine,” but if that is all he can really talk about, the date will be very short and I will be very bored. In my experience, there are a few simple things that you can do to make that first date follow with a second. Even if it is not a first date, there are general guidelines to becoming more confident and make better decisions when trying to find the right guy or girl to spend your time with.

First, put down the Cosmo and the Glamour—these magazines, though entertaining, are built on stereotypes that men would be very disappointed in hearing. Men are not from another planet, as these publications would like you to believe. I promise they are from Earth, with problems and hopes and insecurities like any other person. They are also not simple animals that just want to get lucky or be complimented on their muscles and eye color, although everyone enjoys praise.

On a date, you are meeting and engaging with another person, with a past and hopefully with some future aspirations. These are much more interesting things to discuss. One of the magazines I saw stated something to the effect of, “Men can become very bored when you begin talking about yourself. Try to keep the conversation low key—talk about music, a movie you just saw, or a book you just read.”

Sure, these are fun things to discuss on a first date, but at the same time, there’s only so much you can do with recapping every scene from “The Hangover.” Having similar interests is vital when connecting with someone for the first time, but they could also just become a friend if you cannot open up with more personal revelations like funny stories from your adolescents or the last trip you went on to San Diego.

You both probably want to know about what events in your past made you who you are, and even though every women’s magazine would argue with me, it’s okay to ask about what happened in their past relationships. A lot of personal details aren’t necessary, but it is still a good talking point because you both want to know anyway. The point here is that you should not underestimate the guy you are with. You might have a nice lacy top to show off your cleavage, or you might have mastered the whole “smoky eye” thing because a magazine told you that this is essential when finding a soul mate, but I can guarantee that if you are just something pretty to look at, your relationship is already over.

Like it or not, there are tons of pretty men and women in the world, and if you aren’t interesting or engaged with the world around you, he will eventually need more substance. We are just creatures constantly interested in finding the most unique, rare, and exceptional person, and it could probably be you if you allow that side to show and stay true to your opinions.

Another essential key is to try and figure out what type of person you are on the date with. Even before you go on a date, there are signals into what he or she is about before you even go out to dinner and a movie. There have been many times where a guy has come up to me on the street and said, “Hey, can I have your number?”

If you’re looking for a fling or a fun night, then giving out your number to this guy might be a fine idea. But if you are looking for a more serious venture, don’t do it. These guys who walk right up and ask for your digits before he even knows if you’re a serial killer is not a good sign. I want to be careful not to stereotype, but get real—this guy has asked for a lot more number before you wondered into his peripheral vision. Maybe you looked nice, and that’s all it took for him to approach you, but is that someone you want to have your personal information? To him, you were just someone pretty who caught his eye. But in another five minutes after you leave, he is probably already looking for the next girl who will give out her number.

That’s how it is sometimes, but luckily you have the control in that situation to make a smart decision.

This may sound cliché, but stick to a guy who you’ve met at least once. Even dating someone you hung out with at a party or club is dangerous territory, because you have no idea how many times he’s already hooked up with someone in that environment. And if you feel you’ve outsmarted him by asking, “Do you normally pick up girls here?” he could very easily bend the truth to get some of your “sweetness.”

Also, there have been a few times where I’ve met up with people at a party and gave them my number out of drunken stupidity. If it’s hard for you to say no, or you want to be “polite” for some reason, then take his number and once you sober up, decide if you want to hang out with him again. Otherwise, he now has your number and can call or text you—then you have to ignore him until he gets the point or write a friendly, “I don’t think I felt any chemistry with you the other night besides a good buzz.”

No one likes to write or receive these types of messages, so keep the ball in your court and have some control over whom you give your number out to so that when a date actually happens, it is with a person who you decided to go out with based on what you want.

When on a date, I liked to think about how I was presenting myself, outside of the superficial. You don’t want your date to go to his friends after and say, “Well she’s dumb as bricks, but she’s got a great mouth/ rack/ body,” unless you’re looking to date one of the guys from “Laguna Beach” or “A Shot at Love.” In the end, it all depends on what you’re looking for. Before you start dating, and even before you rush out to whiten your teeth and pick up a lip-gloss and some Altoids, think about yourself. What are you trying to do with your life? Do you have room for another person or are you too preoccupied?

It’s okay to not give out your number to every person, and it’s okay to focus on your own future before anyone else’s. Being selfish, against common rule, is okay because no one else is going to affect how you feel about yourself more than you and your actions. If more people were selfish and took care of their needs before anyone else’s, then there would be a lot less blame and resentment towards others who you feel stunted your personal growth.

Ask yourself these questions, and decide what type of “dating” and companionship you’re looking for before you even go out. Do you have time to waste with boy-men who don’t want to grow up while you are trying to get a job or finish school? That’s perfectly fine, as long as you go in expecting this and not expecting to change him; he’s young at heart and not looking to get tied down by a go-getting-girl whose going to suck all the fun out of him with serious life changes, so expect him to be looking around at other girls, and expect him to get annoyed when you confront him about looking around. If you aren’t looking for something like that, though, then look in the right spots.

A lot of the good guys are off the general dating radar by working all day, going to school, or hiding out in their apartment to ponder the universe. They are probably as equally fun, attractive, and spontaneous as the men in the common dating scene, but they are just taking care of themselves and waiting for a chance meeting with an equally passionate person. In my experience, it’s quality over quantity. You can find dozens of eligible single guys at “Club Dance” and you won’t risk any rejection because they are there for the exact same reason—to have fun. You dance with him, he thinks you’re hot, you have some drinks, and maybe you end up loosing your favorite bra on the floor of his bedroom.

But as you move on, past just having fun and begin looking for something more regular and substantial, you might need to move past what your favorite club song is and patiently wait for a one of the keepers to come out from under his rock. I feel embarrassed, and almost empathetic, with the desperateness I see in my fellow women. Have a little pride in who you are, what you want to be, and understand that the more superficial and uninteresting you are, the more replaceable you are.

Every woman reads “girlie magazines,” but not every girl has shot a gun or learned another language, and the more well rounded and interesting you are, the more indispensable, mysterious, and desirable you become. Show them that you have pride in yourself, not just your body and your loose waves, because the good guys will be impressed, and the disposable guys will disappear like a magic trick. At this point, know yourself and your goals, so that you can share them with another person. After all, that is what dating is supposed to be—finding an equal, a partner, and a friend who you can share your immediate life with. It makes this whole “living” thing a lot more bearable, and a lot more fun.

Adventures In Dating

Written by: Marie Kennedy

Dating in New York. Where to begin when you’re talking about a city that never sleeps…

Let me start with some background about myself. I was raised in the South and dating rituals (and men in general) below the Mason Dixon line are quite different than some that I have encountered here. I have lived in New York for a year now and can tell you that even in a city of 8 million people, it’s hard as hell to meet a decent guy. But let’s be real, I’m 23 so the places I usually go are filled with “fratstars” who still act like they’re in college. Which is fine – a lot of guys don’t grow up and mature until later in life. And I’m still very good at acting like I’m in college.

But I will tell you, as someone coming out of a 5 year, on and off, long distance relationship, this is definitely a city to forget about past lovers…

Let me share a couple stories from a current dating experience I'm having. We’ll go date by date:

I ran into a guy I went to college with (we’ll call him Dave) on the street. I didn’t know Dave that well, as he was 2 years older than me, but he was in the same fraternity of many guys that I had dated and “come in contact with,” if you will. We ended up exchanging phone numbers, blah blah blah, and he asked me to go to dinner. It was on the same night that he was getting back from a business trip so I was pretty impressed that he was landing at the airport and coming straight to dinner.

We went to Sushi Samba in the Village and had a great dinner. Because we kind of knew each other, we had some things in common to talk about and there was none of the awkward first date-ness that can sometimes happen. The check came, it was pretty pricey, and I offered to help pay just to be nice. He was having none of it, paid the bill, and then we walked around the Village.

At one point he asked me if he could hold my hand. Thinking he was just being a smart-ass (his style) I ignored him and kept talking. He asked again and I was like oh shit, he was serious. Dave said that he knew I was from the South and was trying to be a “Southern Gentleman.” And while that could have been cute, I like a guy who will just take charge and initiate a hand hold. So he called me a cab, we kissed (he did initiate that) and then I got in the cab. The cab driver was all pissed and said “I should have charged you for your make out session.” Thanks, asshole!

It was one of those great first dates where we had so much to talk about and everything was just so new and fresh. Even better when I got the post-date text 15 minutes after I got home. I had a couple reservations before we went out (as I think most girls do) but I came away from the date thinking “why not see where this goes and just have fun? I’m freaking 23 years old, I have no commitments, and I live in New York City. I need to take advantage of my opportunities here!”

So there’s a recap of date #1. From here on out, I will be sharing my “Adventures in Dating” in New York with y’all, the CWG readers. Any suggestions and/or advice are always appreciated…

Too Tired for Sex?

Written By: Porsche Simpson

So I was cruising the net, when my girlfriend, who loves to asks me for male advice, texts me yet again asking for...you guessed, advice! Now usually I'm quick to give her an answer, but her current situation brought me to a halt. Unlike me, my friend seems to always have a boyfriend. Well this current boy, or man (let's hope) has been pampering my dear girl for the past year. But here's the catch, I received a text message from her saying, "He said he's too tired to have sex...is this true?"

Of course I tell her that it is, I mean we're all human and sex isn't mandatory or anything. But as I texted her my answer, I became unsure. Is a guy ever THAT tired that he does not want to have sex with you? I mean it's her boyfriend for goodness sake.

This hasn't ever happened to me before, but of course my life isn't that exhilarating. I was giving my girlfriend an answer, like I always do, but I wasn't sure if I believed what I told her. She did tell me that they recently came from spending the weekend in Arizona, and he didn't get any sleep.

The question... is a guy ever too tired to have sex with you??... is boggling my brain right now.

When I think of man, I think of sex. And what man is going to resist it, especially from your girlfriend? I don't know, maybe he really was tired.

The only way to get an answer...was to ask a man! Which is what I did. Between all of my confusion, I just happened to be instant messaging my best guy friend/former high school crush. I asked him if a guy is ever too tired to have sex and he said, "It depends, but if a girl starts, he won't stop".

"Well, what does it depend on exactly? If he's attracted to you, haven't taken medication to prevent a hard-on...what?!"

"You know what, read between the lines!!"

Okay, okay I got it!

So my male friend says, it depends, but! 'IF YOU START HE WON'T STOP'...so in the end, I guess it doesn't matter how tired he is because if you make the first move, then apparently he’s not going to stop you.

Is this true? Who knows, I title it another male answer that makes no damn sense. So ladies, as long as you make the first move in bed, the man won't say NO....right?

Like Porsche? Check out her Single Girl In San Diego Blog.

Why Selling Your Soul to the Internet Dating Gods Might Be a Bad Idea

Written By: Sarah Jacobson

Here’s the thing. I don’t really believe in online dating. After a short stint on Match.com, which was fueled by a burst of social anxiety and resulted in a few short dates with awkward men that I’d rather forget, I went back to the real world. Which is, I should add, where I think dating should take place. Face to face, not over the Internet.

There are many who disagree with me. I know many who’ve not just dabbled in online dating but think of their Match.com (interchangeable with eHarmony.com and Chemistry.com) profile as a segue to their knight in shining armor. Funny, the Craigslist Killer looked like a knight in shining armor and turned out to be a total crazy.

This begs the questions: “Are all online daters crazy? What’s wrong with them? Why are they dating online as opposed to in person?”

Supporters of internet dating claim that you do meet them in person eventually, that you merely get to know them online. This, they say, allows you to feel them out before you go on that terribly awkward date with, say, your one night stand from last Saturday night, who doesn’t look nearly as good, sans beer goggles. Fair enough. I’m all for getting to know someone before I dare to sit through a meal with them.

Hence, an experiment: Posing as none other than myself, I took the plunge on a site that didn’t require payment: Craigslist. With the Craigslist Killer lingering in my subconscious, I crafted an ad that was honest, witty, and funny (or so I thought). I hoped to garner responses that were normal, intelligent, and most importantly, that would help me figure out why on earth one would turn to Craigslist to get a date. Here’s what I found:

Many cite time as the main problem. They’re working too hard/too late/too much to meet people in real time, hence, they head online, where they can meet people at all hours of the day. Others claim they’re “sick of the bar scene.” In fact, I can’t count how many men gave me that line, verbatim. As though they don’t love grinding up on biddies in a hot and sweaty club. Many were older. Though my listing clearly stated that I was 23, I got responses from men ten years older than me. As if!

Kidding. Sort of – but seriously, aren’t guys a bit older at least supposed to be dedicated enough to mission “find a relationship” that they’d pay for Match.com?

Every single man that emailed me felt compelled to describe not just his looks, but how he maintained them. I got the old, “I’m an outdoorsy type” multiple times. A couple felt the need to give me their measurements. Others said they enjoyed working out; many cited “going to the gym” as one of their hobbies.

MEN (and I refer to you as a collective being on purpose), I say this with love – most women don’t care if you go to the gym five days a week at 5 p.m. sharp. In fact, we could care less, because as long as you’re good to us and good in bed, it doesn’t really matter.

So, what did I learn? Well, for starters, it’s of note that I didn’t receive one email that made me stop and think, “Hmm, this one’s a keeper.” My instincts were quite the opposite: RUN! RUN QUICKLY! DO NOT MEET THIS MAN IN PERSON.

I let each of my lovely e-mailers down easy, and returned to the real world, where people take the chance and pray that they’ll meet their great love on the subway. Do I believe all online daters are quacks? Not necessarily – I have friends who have dedicated themselves to making online dating work, and I respect them greatly for putting themselves out there. I, however, would prefer to put myself out there in person, instead of in cyberspace.

Pick Me Up, I Dare You!

Written By: Jodie Westerman

Really good ice breakers…

1) I see you're into ______. What do you think about _______?

Um… can you say intriguing? Not only has he taken the time to notice that “Go Green” pin I have on my bag… he wants to learn more about it… maybe even debate me on it. Sure, it may seem weird… challenging the views of someone you hardly know… but in doing so, you’ll stick out as someone who was not only dynamic and self-assured enough to engage a stranger in intelligent conversation, but different enough to capture their interest long after that conversation has ended.

2) I feel like I know you from somewhere…

This one is pure genius… Not only does it give you a mandate to explore all the places you “could have known each other from” (thus learning a lot about the person as they learn about you), it’s also ambiguous enough to render the other girl “rude” if she simply ignores or casts off such a fleeting, harmless observation.

After all, you were considerate enough to remember her… she should at least TRY to remember you. In the end, she’ll probably conclude you were mistaken and you never knew each other… but by that point… it won’t really matter. You’ll have broken the ice… and that’s all you set out to do in the first place!

3) Looking for a really good place to eat around here… know of any?

The cool thing about this line is its casual nature suggests you’re just hungry… but its effective application leaves the door open for her to come with you. Time spent eating at her favorite restaurant or snack bar?

Now that’s a successful ice breaker. And hey, even if she’s on the run or just simply a little leery of spending time with Mr. Stranger… she’ll be flattered that you chose her to help with your vitally important dining dilemma… and you’ll learn where there’s great sushi.

4) Hi, I'm _____. Look, I'm not very good at coming up with all kinds of clever lines to catch a girl/guy's interest… so I'm going to put it to you straight… I think you're really attractive and I'd like to get to know you.

When in doubt… just be honest. Girls respect honesty… and with all the game-playing that goes on these days… I, for one, would definitely reconsider my pre-programmed “no” when responding to something so new and refreshing as “I think I might like you… care to give me a chance?”

Not so good ice breakers…

1) DAMN girl… that ass is bootyLICIOUS.

No brainer? You would think. But I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen guys try to win a girl over by complimenting her body. Ok we get it that you wouldn’t be interested if you weren’t physically attracted to us. But when our bodies are all you can talk about… we know that’s all you’re interested in.

Call me an idealist… but I don’t think that’s true.

2) So sorry… but do you have the time? I seem to have forgotten my watch/phone.

This one’s been done over and over… so much so that when I actually have forgotten my watch or phone I make sure I ask a woman for the time just so no one thinks I’m hitting on them. But even if you DO need the time and you’re simply an OPPORTUNIST figuring you’ll kill two birds with one stone and catch the interest of that pretty girl at the corner table… this line is really a very bad ice breaker because it only does two things… tells you the time… and lets her know that you didn’t know the time. And I mean, really, how are you supposed to make a conversation out of that?

Oh, my, really? 2:05 PM you say? That certainly isn’t noon… but it’s also not 3:00PM either. Yes, I’d wager to say it’s definitely 2:05 PM. Which is what you just said. Thank you for your
accurate response to my inquiry.

3) I know you probably hear this all the time… but you look just like ________.

Sure, this sounds like a great way to tell a girl she’s hot without making a shovenistic comment about her appearance… but the risk of offending is just too high. What if she thinks Angelina Jolie has weird lips… or Keira Knightly is just too skinny.

Sure… all you meant to say was that the girl is pretty… but you’d better believe she’s over-analyzing the situation – and the odds are not in your favor.

4) Your man is a fool for letting you out of the house lookin that good.

Ok guys, we girls get it that when you mention our “boyfriend” – you’re really just asking if we have a boyfriend. We even find it rather endearing that you think you’re being clever. What we definitely don’t like is the idea that you honestly believe that if we had a boyfriend – we would obviously be doing everything he told us.

So, of course, our present situation… has been preapproved by the dominant male in our lives. Feminist-esque you say? Perhaps. But keep in mind that first impressions are very important. So if you can avoid appearing domineering… it’s best to do so.