Charming, but single

Love advice, 80s style November 20, 2006

On one of the first records I ever owned, a pre-Bobby Brown, pre-crack Whitney Houston asked, “How Will I Know?”

She was talking about a boy. She wanted to know if he loved her. And I remember thinking this was a lame song. Even as a young child, I thought Whitney Houston was pretty dumb.

“How could you NOT know?” I wondered. “It is LOVE.”

I’ve always expected the butterflies. The stomach flip. I’ve felt these things for people before – the physical signs of a woman who is flush with emotion over a man.

But what about the others? The nice guys who for some reason don’t make you weak in the knees as much as they deserve to? The ones who always return your text messages, who always open doors, who always comment on how pretty you look, who always sound excited to speak to you.

Do you penalize them for not wanting to vomit up your guts and feeling weak when you see them?

What about the ones who aren’t so much afraid to let you into the little intimacies of their lives? When it feels effortless and you kind of just know things about them, like how they like superhero stories and save their ticket stubs from movies and always eat mushrooms in their omelets.

Do those things matter? And should they? Am I so obsessed with waiting for lightening to strike that I’m missing all of the little signs around me that are pointing me back to one of the normal guys in my life, about whom I think, “He’s not the one, but he’s one of my favorites.”

How will I know, Whitney? I need to know, Whitney. Because I wanna dance with somebody who loves me.

Eventually, if not sooner.

Conversations about ghosts November 17, 2006

“I met the nicest guys the other night. It’s a shame you couldn’t meet us out,” Single Girl said, relaying her adventures from a night that turned from dinner into drinks into staying out late.

“Yeah, I just couldn’t go out. I was too tired,” I said. “Cute?”

“Very. I got their numbers.”

“Oh! How is your man?” I asked. Single Girl had been seeing someone casually for a few weeks. They’d gone out on several dates and he’d come around to meet us for drinks. A PhD candidate and professor, he was polite and funny and smart and easy to talk to. I definitely approved of him as a potential boyfriend.

“OH! I don’t think he’s my man,” she said. “I haven’t heard from him since last Saturday.”

“What happened? We just got drinks together last Thursday! And you left with him. He is so nice [Single Girl].”

“I don’t even know. We didn’t hang out on Friday because he was working on a big paper, but we talked on Saturday. He told me to call him after I was finished with dinner, and I assumed he wanted to hang out and take a break from work,” she said.

“Right, sounds normal so far.”

“And then when I called him he was very rude and short with me because he said I’d interrupted him,” she said.

“Um, then why did he tell you to call him? Why did he answer the phone if he was in the middle of something? He shouldn’t get angry at you after he asked that you call him.”

“I have NO idea. And he was all huffy to me when he said goodbye, so I just hung up without saying goodbye. But I felt bad about that later so I sent him a text message saying that I was sorry for just hanging up and that I hoped his paper was going well.”

“Right, ok, that’s forgivable,” I said. “And?”

“And nothing, I haven’t heard from him. To smooth things over I sent him a text the next day when his football team won. And still nothing.”

“That makes no sense. You did what he told you to do and he got mad at you,” I said.

“He’s just obviously not relationship material. Because if he was too busy to talk, he should have politely apologized and said he was working on a big project and that we could hang out another night. In fact, even if he called today I wouldn’t date him anymore,” she said.

I admired her for standing her ground. She wasn’t going to let a guy be rude to her for no reason, especially after they’d had a few dates. If I were in that situation, I thought, I’d make excuses for his behavior and wish that he would call and forget that he’d be impolite.

“I’m just glad I found out now and not six months down the line. But it does suck,” she said.

“We’ll just pretend he died,” I said.

“What?”

“We’ll just pretend he died and no one told you. And then you don’t have to think he didn’t call. Because he couldn’t call. Because he died,” I said.

“I love you. You are a great friend.”

“This is what I did with The Nurse,” I said. “Until I saw him — I mean, his ghost — at the grocery.”

“Oh! I saw him the other day when I was at work at the hospital,” she said.

“Really? How did he look?”

“Like the ghost of a man who wasn’t good enough for you,” she said.

“I love you. You are a great friend.”

More online dating observations for men November 15, 2006

Things you should not put on your online dating profile:

Pictures of you hugging different children who are obviously not your own. Seriously, dude, when I saw you hugging on young boys who look nothing like you, I thought you were a perv. Then I read your profile and saw that you were a teacher. But still, other people’s kids on the profile? Not good.

Pictures of you holding a gun. I know, I know, it isn’t pointed AT me in the picture. But it IS pointed at the sky, which makes me think you might go crazy and start shooting up at the clouds while on a date with me, which would really cramp my style.

References to how you don’t mind shopping for clothes with a woman, but you hate having to shop for accessories, especially purses. That is a very specific kind of complaint and an odd one at that. You’ll help me pick out a shirt but not shoes? Why are we going shopping together again? We haven’t even been on a date yet! Also, I want to surprise you with how pretty I look all of the time and you shopping with me is going to ruin that. And the fact that you said that makes me think you regularly date women who insist on dragging you to the mall, which makes me think you’re kind of a pushover. (Also, women? Please do not force your boyfriend to go shopping with you. Because I hate having to trip over bored men while I’m searching for the perfect jean or a new sweater. And I listen to them try to help you. And honestly, they’re no good at it. They’re scared to tell you anything negative about what you’re trying on. Bring a girlfriend shopping instead.)

That you’re looking for a date within 300 miles of your home. I want a date, not a pen pal.

References to sweating. Me sweating. You sweating. Us sweating together. My experience is that the guys who say they’re going to make you sweat rarely do. Also, Southern Belles don’t sweat. Because sweating makes you smell bad and look icky and Southern Belles NEVER smell bad or look icky. So we don’t sweat. We glow.

Something in a shade of gray November 12, 2006

It’s hard for me to comprehend that I’m actually actively seeking a man right now. It’s so odd. I’ve always shrugged off my single status as a consequence of me not finding the right man. And that I needn’t look so hard because he would find me. Or we’d find each other. Fate and all of that good stuff.

Then I turned 26 and all hell broke loose emotionally and I realized that I didn’t want to wake up 10 years from now alone and not at least be able to say that I’d tried. (If I’m never going to find The One, I don’t want it to be because I spent my life hiding under covers away from human contact.)

But what next? Bored with online dating, tired of trying to find Him in smoky bars and wondering where to go. I get tired of it all, spend weekends alone. I scrunch my nose up at the guys who might be available. I’m too picky. Or sometimes, not picky enough, so I end up wasting time of guys when I know there’s no hope for a future. And this causes me to wonder if I’m at the point in my life where it is worth dating someone who isn’t The One. And then I get all stressed that I’m overthinking and that I should be having fun and not worrying so much about biological clocks and life schedules.

I’m stalled. Or maybe I’m stalling.

There’s a fine line between the two.

Common sense advice from a not-so-smug married November 10, 2006

A few weeks ago I was eating lunch with one of my married girlfriends and we were talking about children. I had just seen my baby cousin that weekend and I told her that lately I’d been feeling very maternal. I was smiling at and flirting with every baby I saw in the line at the grocery store or as I walked through the mall.

“It is a bit disconcerting,” I said. “I see babies and I just want to hug them and kiss them and play with them and love them. I don’t know what’s come over me.”

“Oh, honey, I wouldn’t worry about that,” she said, very matter of factly, in between sips of Diet Coke. “You’re probably just ovulating.”