Monday, June 29, 2009

Location-based Dating


Speed dating took off around 2001 and recently I've heard the term "hurry" dating thrown around, but the newest and most tech-savvy way of meeting a significant other has got to be Meetmoi, location-based mobile dating. 

You can go to www.meetmoi.com to join the latest internet version of dating. Just set up your phone, create your dating profile and as you move around meetMoi updates your location in real time. When one of your matches is nearby, you get an alert on your phone. Open the alert and view your match’s pic and profile and if you like what you see, you make a connection via email, instant message or a wink. Or if you’re feeling really adventurous, you can meet in person. 

This does cost a fee and I'm not sure how much but if anyone has tried this, I would love to know. In theory, it seems like it makes sense but since a large majority of the population have jobs, it may be difficult to carry out. But I don't know. Maybe I'm just being cynical. Either way, I think it gives another meaning to the term 'smart phone.'


Sunday, June 28, 2009

My First Dress - the Mayor


My first post-marriage dating experience was actually a pretty good one. The way it happened really worked out to my advantage. The stars were aligned and I was about to try on my first dress in the world of single people. Again.  

We met at a networking event when I happened to notice what my mom would call “a good-looking fellow,” and I gave him the once-over … with positive results. This was big. It was the first time in years that I had noticed someone and could actually picture myself with him. For the presentation, we ended up sitting next to each other and had a pretty good chat. (To borrow from my pre-teen years in New Jersey), this was MAJOR. I was ok (sweating profusely, but ok) talking to an attractive man I’d never met before, and he seemed to be thinking I wasn’t too bad either.

When the presentation ended he casually turned to me and said, “are you hungry?” “I’m starved,” I said (because I really was. I can’t stand these networking events where they pour wine down your throat but won’t give you so much as a cracker to go with it. I’m a lightweight, people, and I need food to sustain myself for the actual networking portion of the evening).

We left and met at a restaurant downtown and it wasn’t long before he spilled the beans. This was actually a set-up. A mutual friend suggested he attend the event because I was going to be there and she thought we’d hit it off. I hadn’t a clue but it was fine with me. We were having a nice dinner and he was nice to look at. He seemed really genuine, too. Our mutual friend had told him about my situation so he told me his, which wasn’t much different. He seemed understanding and I felt completely comfortable talking about the big “D” on our foreheads. Dinner went on, me with another glass of wine (come on, I wasn’t that comfortable) – and he with a coke. I learned during dinner that he was the Mayor of a local city and the lead singer of a rock band. I felt a little awkward, maybe even a tad unworthy, but what the hell? He asked me out.

What I didn’t learn during that dinner but could have easily guessed was that he was a player as well. But honestly, even if I had known, I really don’t think I would have changed things. I was dating someone. Someone other than my useless ex-husband found me attractive. It was out with the old and in with the new. I was surviving and enjoying simultaneously.

I knew we didn’t have a long-term future together: he ate out three meals a day, drank ONLY coca-cola, turned the a/c off in his house when he wasn’t home (In south Florida!!!) and he jumped at a free meal like the best of the Boca Raton Red Hat Ladies. But possibly the most irksome quality about Mr. Mayor was that he communicated primarily through text messages. But I was dating! We did movies and dinner together. We had a weekend getaway in Naples. I watched him rock the crowd on Friday nights and he loved my dog.

When we had been dating for a couple of months, however, he decided to tell me a little more about his past, specifically about how he cheated on his last live-in girlfriend with one of the area’s newscasters and as a result, his city will never get any news coverage from her. Why he decided to share this information is still a mystery to me. But even more specifically, he explained how the two women involved found out about his charade and confronted him, together, in his house. I got a great chuckle and a minor bout of stomach cramps from this conversation but since he was being so forthcoming, somehow it ended with us deciding to date only each other.

Or at least that’s what I thought. A couple of days later – 3 to be exact – a good friend breaks the news to me that Mr. Mayor asked out one of her colleagues. Since she knew we were supposedly together, she emailed him and asked him if he was seeing anyone. He gave a very vague answer and went on to say how he really wanted to take her to this upcoming event. I was going to be out of town for the event so I guess he needed an escort.  

Ok. Fine. He didn’t want to be monogamous. I had noticed while we were together that he had a virtual checklist: a checklist of all the things he wanted in a wife and I knew he wasn’t going to stop until he got them. All. And I didn’t possess them, nor did I really want to. And the final straw was incredibly immature way he handled the situation.

After things blew over a bit, I called him to see if I could stop by. I wanted to end things quickly but painlessly. We were both adults, right? Not exactly. As he opened the front door, I got a really strange feeling. Maybe it was because he had rearranged the living room as if a therapy session was taking place with he as the therapist and me, of course, as the patient. I guess he knew that I wanted to end things, but he wasn’t going to let that to happen. HE wanted to end things. And that’s what he did.

He cut me off before I could say anything. He wanted me to commiserate with him that although we had a good time together, there really wasn’t any spark. What bothered him most was that he didn’t get butterflies in his stomach when he saw me. But he felt really bad for feeling this way.  He wanted me to know that I didn’t do anything wrong. He told me I was smart. And pretty. And asked me if I was ok – again, and again, and again. Yes, Mr. Mayor, although I will no longer be hanging out in a house with 2 liter Coke aplenty, I think I’ll be ok, especially because now I don’t have to watch the last movie in the “Lord of the Rings” trilogy. 

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Yours and Mine


As I’ve mentioned, I’m pretty familiar with the dividing-of-the-stuff process that’s required with break-ups. I happen to think my ex-husband took a unique approach but then again, I’m sure everyone thinks that. What is not as fresh in my memory is the merging of the stuff. 

At the point of moving in with your significant other, you’ve already established a number of things: your side of the bed and whether or not you’re a snoozer, how long it takes you to get ready in the morning, your partner’s eating habits and what they like to watch on TV. But this all takes on new meaning when you live in a home you share, and you can’t just leave and go back to YOUR place.

How many times can you press snooze before pushing your partner over the edge? Do you leave the TV on when you go to sleep? Who gets the bathroom first in the morning? And does that person have to walk the dog as a concession? Eating habits aren't too difficult, but what about their clean-up habits? Do they leave dishes in the sink or send them straight to the dishwasher? Do they empty the dishwasher all at once or one by one?

The dividing of housework is probably most complicated. Do you go grocery shopping together? Do you cook together or switch off cooking and clean-up? Do you do your laundry together or separately? Does he or she leave the laundry in the dryer for days until you can’t stand it any longer and throw it on his or her side of the bed? Does he take out the garbage because it’s a “guy” thing, or are you forced to take it out because you can’t stand the smell? And it’s super fun when the leftovers you were about to grab for lunch on your way to work are suddenly m.i.a. You know who had a midnight snack.

The bathroom stuff is probably them most sensitive. Do you close and lock the door when you go? What if an odor lingers after your most recent trip? Do you still get embarrassed? Do you use Q-tips, or did you mom advise you against that when you were little? Do you pop your pimples or have to trim your nose hair? These are all things that come to light when you cohabitate and it ruins the romance at times, if you let it. 

I think the biggest unknown is, how often to do you have sex? Do you continue along the path you've been on? It’s a touchy subject (no pun intended) – when you start saying good-night and meaning good-night, when you go to the bedroom to go to sleep or even read. (Yikes!) You don’t have limited time together anymore so you don’t need to make the most of it. If you’re tired, you want to go to sleep. But what do they want? Are they tired too? How can you tell? Soon enough you learn to read them and they you. And soon enough, when they pass out on the couch in front of the TV, you leave them there because that means you get the whole bed to yourself for a while. 

I think Hollywood captured the moving in together ritual well in 'When Harry Met Sally' when Harry and Sally's best friends moved in together and attempted to combine their stuff, only the wagon-wheel coffee table didn't make the cut. Sometimes it's brutal, but as a woman (and a feminist I might add), I still think our taste prevails, unless the man is some sort of artist, interior designer or possibly an architect. Sorry, guys. 

This post is dedicated to a young friend who is moving in with her boyfriend this weekend. As much as I enjoy the benefits of living alone and being accountable only to the dog, there's nothing like sharing a home with a loved one and starting a new stage of life together. Just remember you're human -- there will be bumps but it's all worth it. Establishing boundaries is OK. He'll still love you even when you tell him you'll throw his towel out the window the next time he leaves it on the bathroom floor or if he insists on talking to you before 7am.  Plus, you can always gripe about it over lunch with your girl friends. Good luck! :) 


 

 

Monday, June 22, 2009

Feverish Liaisons


I honestly didn't know there were so quite many books out there on love, dating, divorce, relationships -- you name it. Here's possibly a more scholarly version: a review from the NYT that MIGHT make you see your intimate life in a new way.  http://www.nytimes.com/2009/06/21/books/review/Roiphe-t.html

Husband Chasing Heels?


Not bad, and definitely entertaining, advice. One thing men should try to understand is that shoes are very important to women. This can create a conundrum, however, if you see the man of your dreams walking down the street and you're in kick-ass heels, not running shoes.

Us Floridians are pretty lucky. We don't have too many weather elements to deal with except the heat. In this situation, the author warns to steer clear of flip-flops. Agreed. Running in flip-flops is NOT recommended, especially if you are trying to impress. The one other weather element Floridians have to deal with is lightning and this one is obviously a bit more tricky. I would recommend staying in during the lightning storms. They only last a couple of hours in the afternoon anyway, and running toward your husband-to-be (especially since he doesn't know that yet) in bright yellow muddin' boots just isn't a good way to start off a relationship. Sorry. :(

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Man Seeks Woman - Man Finds Woman


Even before I was married, I noticed that there always seem to be more single women than men. (And by single, I mean non-dating or not in a relationship, not necessarily unmarried.) Time and again I've seen relationships end and before you can say "good riddance," the man immediately starts dating someone else and the woman does not. I definitely fall into this category, but I know it's not just me. 

Men, no matter what their occupation, age or score on the looks scale, always seem to be able to find someone to date (or just sleep with) while us women are home pondering the reasons the relationship didn't work and wondering how we'll meet our next companion. Again, I look to my female friends. They're beautiful, smart, funny, personable, lovable people. Yet they're single and their exes are onto the next relationship in a snap. How is it so much easier for men to find women than the other way around?  

I guess there are a number of possibilities. First, men are willing to settle for less. They really don't need a good figure, nice face AND brains. One or two of the above will suffice. And the figure and face can be real or fake - they don't discriminate in that area. Second, they can't be alone. Can you imagine a 38 year-old guy sitting home alone on a Friday night seriously thinking about the pros and cons of his last relationship and how he can make the next one better and last longer? Third -- and I'm making these all up as I go, of course -- third, they knew they weren't good enough for you in the first place so it's time they find someone they feel superior to. And that's certainly easier than finding an equal mate. Lastly, they think of their partner as a status symbol and they need something to illustrate where they are in the world and accompany them to whatever they do on the weekends. Guys don't just hang out, chat and enjoy each others' company the way women do. They need a buddy, hopefully one with benefits. 

But this still does not answer my question -- where do they find these women? Who are these women that are so readily available? It's just something I cannot get straight in my head no matter how hard I try. Smart, quality women: single. Not-so-smart, mediocre men: dating. Baffling. So if you have any thoughts, please contribute. I'd really love to get some reason insight into this.   

Modern Female Anxiety Disorder


The newest disorder to be added to the psychological journal of medicine. I can't decide whether to laugh or cry. 

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Mr. Offerdahl


One of the reasons I experience so much angst over the thought of dating is that I’m not really comfortable around men (yelp!). Never have been, at least not at first. But I do look forward to the day I grow out of this stage. I’m sure there are some unexplored paternal issues there, but I won’t get into that right now. Once I get to know a guy, I’m fine -- but at first, it’s rough.

This is one of the reasons I like working with a group of women my age (well almost anyway). It’s fun to gossip at lunch, hear about others’ love lives, crazy roommates and in-laws and basically feel better about my own life for an hour. But it can also be good for your love life, as I found while out to lunch one day. 

Four of us went out to a casual salad/sandwich place in town called Offerdahl’s and I happened to eye a nicely dressed, nice-looking guy. He was no Johnny Deep, but I was impressed with his outfit and most importantly, his shoes. This might not seem like such a big deal, but it’s not every day you see a nicely dressed man in south Florida, so ... to the shock of my fellow colleagues, I expressed my interest to them.

Apparently they were so shocked that I pointed out a cute guy in public that when I very innocently headed to the bathroom, they very not-so-innocently rummaged through my purse for my business card and passed it to him. Did they tell me this? I’ll let you answer that. Suffice it to say that I learned of this behind-the-scenes matchmaking when we went to leave and the man I happened to think was pretty cute calls out my name. 

I have to say, I was surprised and not surprised. So when he said my name, I turned around and I replied with, “they didn’t?” He, of course, said, “they did.” Keep in mind that the three giggly asses I work with were safely to the getaway car by now, hidden behind dark tinted windows. Unfortunately, Mr. Offerdahl was not quite as cute up close. He was nice looking enough but shorter than I thought and with the mouth of a hockey player.

The nice part about this story is that it ends with a lunch date -- one. The sad part is that it happened at none other than Offerdahl’s a couple of weeks later. And I still can’t run in there for a lunchtime sandwich without running into him. I don’t know how (I did well in physics but not that well), but every single time I’m there, he’s there too. I always make a point to look like I’m in a very big hurry and he usually follows up with an email about how good I looked and if I ever wanna get together again … Nah. 

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Does love make you gain weight?

I’ve often heard friends talk about how they always managed their weight well … until they fell in love. There’s something about being smitten that makes you crave pizza on the couch with a romantic movie, ice cream sundaes on a park bench on a hot summer night and sleeping in instead of getting up early to exercise. Snuggling under the covers with a new loved one is much more fun than sweatin' to the oldies or pounding the pavement in the south Florida sun.

I don’t think any of us are immune to this. Plus, I always think that if I’ve found someone and he likes me just the way I am, no reason to hit the gym, right? Isn’t that part of the reason why the gym is so intimidating? Because it’s full of good-looking, in-shape single people wearing make-up and cute hair accessories (the women in particular, of course)?

So here’s a new article from the Chicago Tribune about this very subject.

http://www.chicagotribune.com/health/sns-health-avoid-couple-weight-gain,0,7641761.story

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Annoying Things Couples Do - this should be good!

http://www.examiner.com/x-8510-Real-Relationship-Examiner~y2009m6d13-LizList-Top-10-Annoying-Things-Couples-Do-Part-1

This is not my beautiful house ...

It’s late Saturday morning and I’m in the midst of one of my favorite single gal activities – sleeping in, big breakfast, catching up on ‘Sex and the City’ reruns. (I even took the “which Sex in the City” character are you quiz? Not shocking the result was Charlotte.) Sipping from my favorite giant coffee mug is the cherry on top. I love sleeping in on Saturdays and I love not having to ask anyone else what they want for breakfast or having to decide who’s gonna walk the dog. But I can’t help but think about how I got here.

I’m 34 and divorced. Now I know that’s not wrong or indicative of any serious character flaws, but no matter how much I tell myself that, there’s still doubt in my mind. There’s still the look in people’s eyes when I tell them. And maybe it’s just my imagination, but sometimes I think people are secretly asking, “You?” “You’re divorced?” “What happened?”

The “what happened” question is my least favorite, because no matter what happened, no one will ever understand; unless, of course, they’ve been through it. And it never ceases to amaze me who has been through it. I look around at my friends and still can’t believe how many of them are in the same boat and in particular, which ones. I think back to high school and if you lined up my friends and I, we never would have been the ones picked out as those who would end up in divorce court. We were the ‘most like to succeed,’ ‘best dressed,’ ‘best all around,’ group and in long-term relationships. I guess that’s how meaningful high school is and goes to show you, we’re not in high school anymore.

And no matter how hard you try, you can’t predict anything. Some of us married our polar opposites -- the exact people our parents warned us against. The smarter ones married the men our families adored – they were perfect on paper and looked perfect next to you. And still, divorce has reared its ugly head. So my only advice, if I’m permitted to offer some, go with your gut and never look back.

Friday, June 12, 2009

Social "Divorcing"


Not only have the advances in technology made dating more complicated -- with so many ways to break up with someone and so many different accounts and sites to check and see if your potential date has gotten back to you. According to Time magazine, it's got a place in divorce, too. Interesting and somewhat frightening article.



Sunday, June 7, 2009

Walking on the Moon


One of the things that worries me about dating at 34 is the bedtime preparation ritual. Since I’m not 18 anymore, I can’t fall into bed or even just go to sleep with someone without performing the bedtime routine. I mean I could, but I would look extremely frightening in the morning and more importantly, in the years to come. 

Sadly, I’m not even 25, so the routine doesn’t include just brushing my teeth and washing my face. There’s flossing, there’s eye cream, foot cream, the hairdo (sometimes even ear plugs or an eye mask, but that’s rare). Now I know I’m a bit more neurotic than most but aging isn’t pretty and I’m trying to do the best I can. My ex-husband didn’t really understand the whole thing, but he’s gone now.

The routine stepped up a notch when I started sleeping with a night guard in my mouth so my jaw doesn’t walk off with half my teeth and gums one day. It could be worse, of course, but the 12 year-old with a discolored retainer isn’t the exact look I’m going for. Talking doesn’t really work well with a night guard and usually involves drool. Kissing, as you can imagine, is out of the question. This, is my conundrum: if I don’t wear the guard, I wake up with a headache. But if I do wear it when I ever have an overnight guest, I'm afraid he'll never be my overnight guest again.

THEN, the routine leaped a GIANT notch recently when my podiatrist gave me a night splint for my heel spur to wear to bed. Now this thing (pictured here), is out-of-this-world ridiculous. If I were preparing for a trip to space, I would pack this very night splint, confident that it would enable me to walk on the moon. And the FOUR Velcro straps would keep me tied in snug as a bug in a rug. Clearly I don’t need to explain why I am sitting here puzzled.

And to answer your question, no, it does not fit under the covers.