Read Any Good Books Lately?

What better place to find a sexy sophisticated suitor than the library?  Unfortunately, I've never had the privilege of meeting a man in the library, but that doesn't mean I've given up hope.  Should this opportunity ever come my way, I am prepared.  Surrounded by some of my lady friends earlier in the week, we developed a list of pick-up lines that are surefire ways to catch that studious man (or woman) of your dreams. 

1.    Is your name Dewey?  Because I've been looking you up and down.
2.    Put down that book and check me out.
3.    Let's play a little game of non-fiction.
4.    I'd like to run my fingers through your pages.
5.    Excuse me, do you know where I could find the graphic novels?
6.    Care to examine my stacks?
7.    Would you like to solve my mystery?
8.    I found you in the card catalog filed under "sexy."
9.    Do you know where I can find Moby Dick?
10.  I lost my call number; can I get yours?

Dating: It's Not A Game

Tonight I attended an event called Love Is Blind that not only featured a male dancer who stripped down to his goggles, snorkel and swim trunks, but also several rounds of the Dating Game, complete with three contestants and bachelor/bachelorette mysteriously hidden behind a curtain.  Alas, my raffle ticket was not selected, which would have enabled me to participate, a fact that is most unfortunate not only because I therefore did not win a fabulous date with a handsome man, but also because this blog entry would be far more exciting had I been chosen.  However, watching the others on stage answer the questions posed to them by the men/women searching for love made me contemplate what three questions I would ask a potential suitor, had I only three questions to ask.  At first it seemed quite obvious, as there are three major things I look for when dating:

1.  Do you smoke?

2.  What is your political affiliation?

3.  Are you religious?

I won’t tell you what the “correct” answers to these questions are, but I can tell you that they are my only deal-breakers.  And #3 is open to some debate depending on ethnicity vs. moral obligation.  These questions, however, would not make for a particularly entertaining dating game.  While the answers to these questions remain of importance to me, there are three additional questions that would not only go over far better within the Dating game scenario, but also have answers that would honestly make a difference to me:

1.  If you were a word, what word would you be and why?

2. What is the weirdest tradition in which your family participates?

3. Name one child that has had a positive impact on your life.

And now, allow me to explain.   First of all, the word “love” or “hope” will not gain you any points here.  Please.  There are so many remarkable words in the English language.  What about “menagerie” or “waffle” or “placenta?”  Just feel the way those words roll of the tongue.  I don’t care if the word is selected simply because it’s fun to say; that is a far better reason than the Miss America response of, “because it’s a beautiful thing and what we all live for blah blah blah.”  Men give those answers to because they think it’s what we want to hear.  They are wrong.

As for question number 2… loving your family and bonding with your family is important to me.  Maybe you grew up in a dysfunctional family but turned out okay.  There still has to be some kind of tradition your family adheres to, even if it’s chasing each other around with the butcher knife every Thanksgiving.  Let’s keep it exciting, people!  My answer to this question would either be Drunken Boardgame Fest with my cousins or the Ceremonial Passing of the Collared Pecary.

And lastly, children.  I do not want a child today or tomorrow or even in the next several years.  But I want a child some day.  I know plenty of people who have not had an abundance of children in their lives, but I feel it’s impossible to have never had your heart melted by a child.  Did a baby ever smile at you on the subway?  Did a little girl or boy in a film ever move you in the slightest?  A child somewhere must have had an impact on you at some point, one way or another, no matter how small.  Three years ago, this would not have seemed important to me, but since then I have dated far too many men who, in their 20s, were already contemplating Vasectomies.  Seriously?  You’re not even 30 years old and you want to get snipped?  Preposterous.  I need to at least know there is the possibility of children at some point in the future.

I don’t think it’s any secret that I’m pretty fed up with the whole dating scene and ready to find someone with whom I see a future.  And who sees me in his future.  I don’t date for fun.  Of all the things that dating is, “fun” is not one of them.   I have kept an open mind and dated smokers, dated men who voted opposite what I voted in the 2008 election, dated men who were estranged from their families.  And you know what?  I have not fared well.  I know that relationships are all about compromise, but one should not have to compromise her/his ideals.  Yes, relationships require sacrifice, but likewise they cannot exist in the first place without harmony.

What if the Dating Game consisted of the questions people really wanted to ask?  Oh, Jim Lange would have been in for such a treat!  Though I much prefer Chuck Woolery.  I wonder if he’s single… and how he would answer my questions.

Dear Diary 4/25/95: Couple-skating at the roller rink

The below was artfully sketched on April 25, 1995:

The accompanying diary entry is from April 23, 1995:

Dear Diary, on Friday I went to the roller rink.  I couple-skated with (drumroll please!)  Jason!  As friends, of course.  Now I can't get him out of my mind.

Top 5 guys:

1. Jason

2. Jamin

3. Thomas Ian Nicholas

4. Nate

5. Marc

Note from me, April 25, 2011: Come on, I was a hottie, no?  Who wouldn't want to coupleskate with that hot piece of ass?-

I've surrendered to the Twitter beast!

Dear Diary 4/6/01: In which I ask my first love to prom

Before I begin the diary entry itself, I'd like to provide a little background information that will prove helpful: the conference mentioned is a seminar for high school students in which half the week is spent in NYC learning about social issues at the UN. The second half of the week is spent in D.C. lobbying senators/representatives.  Chaperoned, of course, but with a good deal of freedom.

And now for the main event!

4/6/01: Dear Diary, No guy has had me so whipped for a long time! I think the last time I was this crazy about a guy was over a year ago when I liked Justin (again). But now... Adam. We were together nearly the whole week of the conference. He always waited for me so we could walk together [to and from seminar sessions]. We get along so well -- our personalities totally mesh. I'm crazy about him.

I asked him to prom and I'm writing down the conversation so I don't forget it. After working up much courage and finding my balls:

Me - "Adam, would you go to prom with me?"

Adam - "That's an odd question."

Me - "It's an odd question?"

Adam - "Not odd, just... unexpected."

Me - "I'll warn you next time... Adam, I'm warning you."

Adam - "Warning me about what?"

Me - "I'm going to ask you to prom."

Adam - "...yeeeeaaahhhhh..." (Said like "rrrriiiiiigggghhhhht" not like "Sure! I'll go to prom with you!"

*The Next Night*

Adam was going to take the elevator [up to his hotel room], but I decided to just take the stairs instead, and he followed me. We were alone, so I brought it up again.

Me - "Adam, sorry for catching you off-guard last night."

Adam - "Oh, it's okay."

Me - "But... I was serious, so if you could mull it over, I'd appreciate it."

Adam - "Okay, I'll mull it."

* Then we started making jokes about mullets. *

When I asked him to prom we were on a ferry. It was so beautiful and it was just the two of us standing there, and to be honest, it was kinda romantic. I thought I'd scared him. On the ferry on the way back, I was inside the third level talking to my friend Phil and Adam was standing outside the third level. I told Phil I thought I scared Adam and he said, "There are three levels on this ferry. If you really scared him, do you think he'd be outside the window?" That really helped. :) [I actually drew a smiley face in my diary at this part.]

Adam promised me before the conference that he'd dance for me there. [He was a breakdancer.] I'd been asking him all week and he hadn't yet, but after we got back to the hotel from the ferry ride, he danced and kept doing it until the end of the week! Coincidence? I don't know. I don't want to read into anything, but it sure drove me wild!

I never asked a guy out in person before, but I think there's something to say for not getting a yes, and not affecting our friendship. Nothing was awkward; we just kept on joking around and hanging out. How often does that happen? When I left the conference, I gave him a hug and told him to e-mail me, so I'll let you know what happens. My hand is really tired.

Note from the author 4/6/11: The prom in question was for my junior year of high school. Adam was (still is, go figure) a year younger than me and attended a different high school about an hour away.  He declined my invitation to be my date to my junior prom, but accepted a year later when I asked him again and he danced the night away with me at my senior prom.  Ladies and gentlemen of the internet, that night remains one of my finest memories.  The boy I had loved for over a year went to my senior prom with me, gave me a huge bouquet of flowers and danced with me all night long.  It was glorious and I felt like the luckiest girl in the world!  Since he lived too far away to drive home that night, he slept over at my house. We went home after prom and started watching Big Daddy in my family room and since that room of my house is completely secluded from the rest of the house, I was hoping for a little making out action.  Isn't that what you do on prom night?  However, halfway through the movie when I started to yawn, Adam informed me that I should probably go to bed... so I went upstairs to my room and he slept on the sofa.

Adam and I hung out that summer before I went to college and before his senior year of high school.  At this point, I had been head over heels for the guy for two and a half years.  I pulled him aside one day that summer and laid it all out for him, something along the lines of, "I'm going to college in a couple weeks and will probably meet a guy there and we'll fall in love and get married... but not if I still have a chance with you.  I can't move on unless you tell me there's no way you'll ever change your mind."  I remember Adam's response word-for-word: "I think we'll just always be really good friends."

And so I went to college a few weeks later.  I honestly thought that everyone who hadn't already found his/her husband/wife found that person at college simply because that's where my parents had met.  I assumed that's just the way it was done.  I never dreamed that I'd be no closer to finding true (reciprocal) love ten years later.  But I really and truly was in love with Adam, and not just puppy love.  We were extremely close and my feelings for him were deep and unconditional.  I think I've been in love twice since then, but Adam was the first. My first love.

So where is Adam now? Well, we continued to talk and hang out throughout my freshman year of college, but the communication became more sporadic and we gradually drifted apart.  He actually randomly ended up as the college roommate of another friend of mine, a guy who knew all about my love for Adam and who I had cried to about Adam on at least one occasion... so that was kind of weird. A couple of years ago Adam married that friend's cousin, a girl I was also friends with... so that was also kind of weird. 

She once tried setting me up with some guy named Ed.  I'm not sure if it was because she really thought that Ed and I would be a good match, or if she felt guilty about taking my first love, but there are no hard feelings there.  She and I were friends, but not the super-close kind that have rules about stealing men from one another (and it wasn't stealing since he never wanted me anyway).  My only sadness stems from the fact that Adam was one of my very best friends and I have not talked to him in six or seven years.  I do miss his friendship, but everything else played out exactly the way it should have. 

Terrible Poetry

Last night I came across poems that I wrote at some point in my past... unfortunately they were not dated.  But FORTUNATELY, they are terrible, and so now I share them for your enjoyment.

My best estimation is that this one was written in 8th or 9th grade.  I give you, Lovesick:

My chest is aching
I can feel my heart breaking
Why won't you give back this love you are taking?


You're in my every thought
You're always on my mind
No one knows how hard I've fought to leave this love behind


My only wish is for you to feel
The way I feel for you
But in my heart and in my mind I know it won't come true


I've tried to forget my feelings
Again and again
Because I know that you love me, but just as a friend


I've never felt a love like this
A love so strong and pure
I have a disease called Lovesickness for which there is no known cure

The second piece was written while I was experimenting with un-rhyming poetry.  Embarrassingly, I believe it was written when I was in 11th grade.  Warning: it's a little dark.

You Don't Love Me
If you can't stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen
If you can't stand the hurt, there is no place to hide
You make me feel important
Your smile lights up the darkest room
Your face is always bright and shining,
Never full of tears
You make me laugh
So hard I cry
But you don't love me.
My feelings are like a whirlpool
Swirling all around me,
Filling me up,
Choking me,
Drowing me,
Killing me.
I love you
But you don't love me
And it breaks my heart.

And what aspiring poet's repertoire would be complete without a Haiku?  Without further ado, Untitled:

My heart, full of pain
My body yearns to touch you
You're near, yet seem far.

That one is pretty deep, so I'll just leave you now to digest the symbolism.

Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match...

Last weekend I overheard a woman in a cafe say, "My dating stories are just ridiculous. I really should start a blog. I think I could get a pretty good following!" As I am not open to sharing readership with a blog of a similar nature, my first thought was, "Back off, sistah friend!" I then heard her say, "Of course, I never tell them that I'm single!" My female intuition told me she was no longer referring to dates. Her friend then left and my currently single, potential blog competition was soon joined by a gentleman that she was clearly meeting for the first time. It quickly became apparent when she began asking questions such as "How do you react when you first meet a woman?" and "Have you tried on-line dating?" that this woman was a matchmaker. I decided to eavesdrop on her conversation, though I hardly consider it eavesdropping as she was sitting two tables away from me and talking at a volume that facilitated easy listening-in. She also asked: "When do you go out to meet new people?" and "What is your social outlet?" and "Do you like to be challenged in a relationship?"

The matchmaker I was observing was in her late 20s and cute, not the babushka grandmother I usually envision when imagining a matchmaker (though I suppose Patti Stanger has already done the legwork on putting that stereotype to bed). Patti Stanger, the Millionairre Matchmaker herself, is also single. Her viewers went nuts when her six year relationship with fiance Andy Friedman fizzled. With all of these single matchmakers running around, it does cause one to wonder whether or not they are qualified for their jobs. It's slightly disconcerting to think of someone who has failed to find a successful relationship for herself getting paid to find successful relationships for her clients.  Would I trust that type of person to find a match for me? Are matchmakers too busy finding love for others to find it for themselves? Do they simply put work before their personal lives? Are they living vicariously through their clients while searching for something they have thus far been unable to find on their own? So many questions! However, my roommate made an excellent observation when she pointed out that plenty of music producers are terrible musicians, but know how to create amazing hits. Something to think about.

Matchmaking is still a common practice in many cultures and I have to admit that I have often thought that life would be much easier if I lived in such a culture. No messy dating world! Far fewer broken hearts! The downside to this is that I once asked my mother who she would choose if she were to arrange a marriage for me. Her response was a close friend of mine whom I adore, but who is gay, so I'm pretty sure that marriage would have ended fairly quickly. And still, it's something I think of from time to time. I recently saw a news piece in which a young Muslim woman living in the United States elected of her own free will, by no coercion of her parents, to have a matchmaker find her a husband. You find someone suitable, you get married, and over the years you fall in love. Who doesn't tear up in Fiddler on the Roof when Tevye and Golde realize that after twenty-five years of marriage, they are in love? In a way, I am envious that the young Muslim woman was raised in a culture where such marriages are acceptable. Yes, I live in America, the land of the free and the brave, but I no longer enjoy the dating freedom and by no means do I feel brave.

Meanwhile, back at the cafe, I overheard Little Miss Matchmaker say that there are three rules that make for a successful relationship:

1.) Internal validation. One must be emotionally stable.

2.) Full life outside of couple-dom. Oh god, yes.

3.) Be the best that you can be.

Nice advice; but really, these items are common sense. Do I need to pay a matchmaker to tell me such things? I think not. And yet, I was torn between deciding if this woman was a total nut or if I wanted to ask for her business card.