Archive for the ‘Boys and Girls’ Category

I came upon this blog entry about the blogger’s experience at a grocery store, where one female cashier felt it okay to tell another female cashier, loudly and in front of customers, that all men are pigs.

I’ve written before about the bitter single woman. I hate, hate, hate male-bashing. Really! Listen, I’ve dated losers who dumped me by email, did the fade out, or stood me up to watch a baseball game. I’ve gone through excessively long dating droughts. I’ve watched many female friends — intelligent and beautiful and great catches — get their hearts stomped on by unfeeling guys. And you know what? I still love men! They’re cute and tall and somewhat awkward when girls confuse them, and they get that ruggedly handsome 5 o’clock shadow. They can fix broken household appliances. They’ll go out of their way to walk you home at night so you’ll be safe.

Ladies, there is much to love about men. I get that you’ve been hurt, but it’s counterproductive to blame an entire gender for the bad behavior of a small minority. Dating is a journey, and you make mistakes along the way. Haven’t you ever had to cruelly break up with someone? Haven’t you ever avoided a guy’s phone calls and texts so you wouldn’t have to go out with him again? Or maybe you’ve done worse — cheated on a boyfriend, or left him for his best friend. Women are just as guilty! And yes, many men will say that all women are crazy (I hate that too!), but they’re still chasing after us.

Approach dating with a crappy attitude, and you’ll get crappy results. Treat men with respect, and assume their intentions are good. If you’re bitter and angry and have an emotional wall of man-hatred built up, men will catch on. And you’ll be the crazy one they tell their friends about. You want that to happen?


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Glory be!

My modem broke and I was without internet access at home for a little over a week. Granted, I could check my email and stuff from work, but I don’t blog from there. And I wasn’t about to try it from my phone. Anyway, now that I’ve caught up on about 9 days worth of friends’ tweets, I’m back to blogging. I massively reduced my internet usage while it wasn’t working. I was a lot more productive!

A conversation with a friend led me to an interesting realization: Men are expected (according to society and all) to approach women they find attractive, while women are to be chased. However, men are not as good at reading social cues as women are, so they freeze up during the approach because they can’t tell if the woman wants it.

The friend offered this metaphor: “It’s like God gave all women red plumage, and then made all men red-green colorblind.”

So true.

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Forget Christmas. I love me some warm springtime weather. The flowers are out, people are walking their adorable golden retrievers, and for the first time in months, everyone’s showing some skin. Said skin might be dreadfully pasty, but it’s skin nonetheless. Today I rocked a denim miniskirt I might be getting to old for (but according to Stacy and Clinton, I have ten more years until my hemlines need to stay closer to my knees).

I get seasonal affective disorder in the winters, which means I go through three months a year where I hate leaving the house. It’s cold, I can’t muster up the strength to put on anything nicer than fleece under a puffy down coat, and it gets dark at 5pm. Summer, though uncomfortably warm, wakes me up. Girls are in dresses, guys are in shorts (I have a thing for toned calves, so this excites me greatly), and it’s light out past 8 every night. It’s no wonder that in April or May, people everywhere are declaring it “their” summer. It’s their summer to date, go out, have fun and travel.

Could it be the summer of CHO? I should hope so. Since moving to this city three years ago, I haven’t dated anyone for longer than two months. I’d say I’m due, and summer is the perfect time for something to start. Summer dating is fun — you can go for bike rides or eat at outdoor restaurants. You can picnic or go to wineries. By the time winter comes around, you’ve already become a boring couple who never goes out anyway. Perfect timing!

So wish me luck, readers. My straight male friends have all told me they don’t get how it is I’m still single. Maybe an awesome guy will show up who agrees.

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I think I’ve figured out the answer to one of dating’s great mysteries: Why women date assholes. We say we want a nice guy who treats us like royalty, and then we often fall for the bad boy. Are women stupid? Are we just lying about what we want? Do we secretly enjoy being cheated on? Not all of us, no, and no.

It’s not that women seek out horrible guys. It’s that we like some of the qualities that assholes exhibit. Namely, they’re a bit mysterious and they don’t totally suck up to women. Women like to be chased, but we like the thrill of the chase, too. We don’t want someone who’s falling all over themselves to hang out with us ALL THE TIME because that’s kind of creepy and annoying. We like the witty, sarcastic rapport we can have with someone who isn’t afraid to poke fun. Some women also like to think they can change an asshole into a nice guy. They can’t, but who doesn’t love a challenge? And as weird as it sounds, when a guy who’s kind of a dick is actually nice to you of his own volition…it’s kind of an honor. It’s like you get to see a soft side of him that he won’t show anyone else. It’s like he deems you worthy. It’s validation from the unlikeliest of places.

There are qualities nice guys exhibit that we want, too. Nice guys are caring and dependable. They will never hurt you on purpose. You always know where you stand with them. But if you’re too much of a nice guy, the girl you’re dating will get sick of being put on a pedestal. We want to be taken care of, but not worshiped. Simply put, women not a boyfriend. Not a bitch.

Moderation is key. In the continuum of nice guys to assholes, you need to be somewhre in the middle, and be able to move back and forth as the situation calls for.

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I was out for drinks this past weekend with a friend of mine and a few relative strangers we met at an event. There were four guys in our group: Two conventionally good-looking ones, one who lacked both looks and personality, and one who I sat far away from at the event so I hadn’t even spoken to him, much less looked at him.

Until my friend pointed out that she thought he was cute in a kind of nerdy way. Then I figured I should find out what she saw in him. Was he conventially hot? Not really, but he was in shape and dressed well. He had good bones, so to speak. He was also intelligent, interesting and kind. And suddenly, through the power of my friend’s comment, he was cute in my eyes. And the conventionally good-looking guys, who I noticed first, turned out to be total douchebags.

Often, those unassuming people make the best dates. I’m not talking about the introverted, socially awkward guys who are book smart but have no redeeming values otherwise (I don’t need a fixer-upper here). I’m talking about the guys who are 6’s or 7’s, instead of 9’s or 10’s, who are confident, educated and fun. They might not catch your eye at first, but the interest you take in them grows slowly.

The same goes for guys, by the way. You might notice the hot, skinny, tall blonde first, but it’s the shorter brunette with the normal BMI and psychology degree who’d make the better girlfriend. If you’re lucky, you have a good friend by our side to point this out.

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“Enough,” my mom said to me as I lay on a hospital stretcher. In two of her past three trips to visit her kids, she’s ended up in the ER, first with my brother and now with me. “You need a husband to take care of you.” I’ve been thinking about what she said. I’m educated, employed and self-supporting. I’m living the typical single-gal-in-the-big-city life. If I’m sick, I heat up my own soup. If I’m tired after a long day at work, there’s no one to go to the grocery store in my place.

“The women in this town look so tough,” my mom said a few days later, after I was up and about and we rode the train together. “They don’t look sweet or caring. No one wants to marry that.”

A controversial stance, that. I’m sure some of you are reading this in disgust, and thinking quite ill of my mother, but you don’t know her. She’s no Stepford Wife. I have to say she made a valid point. Men who like women want to date women. They like us in dresses. They like that we smell nice. They like that we get concerned if they haven’t been eating well. They want the future mother of their children.

At the same time, women who like men want to date men. Taller than us, stronger than us, protective. They say that women date men like their fathers. I don’t know if that’s true, but I know that the men in my family are good at repairing things. To this day, even though I’m decent at fixing household stuff myself, I tend to call up my brother for help. When my dad’s in town, he busies himself making small repairs around my apartment. At work, my co-workers are mostly male, and I’ve definitely played the “you are tech-savvier than me, please help” role. Does it make me seem like a defenseless little girl? I don’t know. But I do know that I can’t do everything alone.

I’ve been hearing a lot about Steve Harvey’s relationship advice book, Act Like A Lady, Think Like A Man. He was on Oprah while I was home from work with the back injury, and he said this about men:

We profess, we provide and we protect. A man has got to see where he fits into the providing and protecting role. If you’ve got everything, you can do everything, you’ve got your own car … you’ve got a guard dog and a handgun. The guy is thinking, ‘Where do I fit in here?’ You’ve got to make a space for him to fit in so he can come in and do what men do.

A lot of people advise making space in your life for new things to come in. Suze Orman says to clean out your wallet to attract new money. Patti Stanger tells you to throw away things that remind you of exes so you can finally move on. Steve Harvey says to leave some unfulfilled needs in your life, so that someone can come in to meet them.

Does this mean that if you’re single, you should throw yourself a huge pity party and whine about how lonely you are to anyone who will listen? No. You should have a life, friends, a job and hobbies. But neither should you be so rooted in your self-sufficiency that you will refuse any person who doesn’t fit into the life you’ve created. You need some wiggle room so they’ll have a place. If you’re overscheduled and refuse to meet new friends and potential dates, you’ll find potential dates coming around less often. A person you go out with when it’s convenient for you, who moves out of your way when you’re busy, who doesn’t interfere with the life you created before you met them — that’s a mistress. A person who quickly becomes an essential part of your life — that’s a relationship.

Let someone take care of you. And while you’re at it, take care of them, too.

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On Valentine’s Day I struck up a conversation with a gorgeous guy at a bar. Too bad he was just in for the weekend and lives halfway across the country! Relevant to the story: It was cold out, so I was in jeans, a black shirt, and a cropped blazer, with a huge coat and scarf draped over my arm. I had contemplated wearing a dress, but I can do no such thing when it’s below 40 degrees.

Gorgeous Guy commented on the fact that I was pretty conservatively dressed, and complimented me on it. While guys like to look at scantily-clad women, they can actually see themselves dating you if you leave stuff to the imagination. This is contrary to what, say, Patti Stanger might advise. (Yes, I watch Millionaire Matchmaker, and I totally ordered her new book and will be reviewing it here. Shut up.)

On her show, Patti always emphasizes that men are visual creatures so you need to show ’em the goods — toned legs, pushed-up cleavage, long hair — but if I could get the attention of Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome when the only skin he could see was on my face and hands, there’s hope for ladies who have to spend four months out of the year swathed in coats. My secret weapon that night was a smile, which got the guy’s attention. You don’t need to get a spray tan for that to work! Experiment with chatting up guys when you’re in a turtleneck and jeans.

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