Age is Just a Number, Right? Right? July 3, 2008

I’m always curious as to how much information you need to share about yourself before going out with someone. When you meet someone at a bar or a party, the first introduction may not reveal all of the necessary details.

Case in point: I recently met a guy at a bar. Nice guy, smart, blah, blah blah…but I could tell right off the bat that he was really young. There was nary a line on his sweet little face. So I asked him how old he was. His response? 24 (I’m 30). He never asked me how old I was, so I didn’t offer up the info, but I did give him my card.

Fast-forward about two weeks, when the young laddie asked me out to dinner. I had some reservations about going out with him because of his age (and, because I’ve found that even older men can act like babies sometimes). Let’s put it this way: As a pop culture junkie, I typically gauge things in terms of movies and music. This kid wasn’t even born when Thriller came out—and I practically know the Thriller dance by heart. But, my friends were urging me to give him a chance, so I thought, “What the hell?”

I have to say: I felt a little bit guilty about not sharing my age with him earlier. Before the date, all I could imagine was a look of shock or disappointment on his face upon finding out my age and realizing that he was out with a CIT (cougar-in-training).

Anyway, we ended up going out to dinner, and although the subject of age never came up, it was pretty easy to tell by where I’ve lived and for how long that I’m clearly older than 24. Three years in NYC, nearly six years in SF…it’s pretty easy to do the math.

I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself anytime he would say something like, “Back in college…” like it was a really, really long time ago. And I knew that there was a disconnect when, during a conversation about Cartagena, he revealed that he’d never seen Romancing the Stone (in fact, I’m pretty sure he had no idea what I was talking about). Was it a big deal? No. But it made me feel like a granny.

The date was over pretty quickly and there was no suggestion of a drink afterwards, so I’m assuming (maybe incorrectly, who knows) that the age thing might have turned him off. Or perhaps he just didn’t like me, which is fine, too. But let’s just say when I got home, to borrow a line from Vincent Price’s Thriller rap, the midnight hour wasn’t nearly “close at hand.”

So should I have told him how old I was before the date?

Pre-Date Homework? No Thanks. You Fail. July 2, 2008

A friend of mine has been feeding me tales of the douchebaggery that exists within the world of online dating, from obnoxious profiles to bad email exchanges to ridiculous dates.

This one killed me: One guy contacted her through OkCupid recently, and sent her a list of bands she “needed to listen to” before they could go out.

Um, seriously? As if we aren’t all busy enough as it is, she’s expected to do pre-date homework before it’s acceptable to go out? And is this guy really so scared that he’ll have nothing interesting to talk about other than his favorite bands? I think someone needs to broaden their horizons—and realize that it’s not all about them.

As my friend so eloquently put it, “I’m 37. Do I really have to be into cool bands to impress you?”

If you’re a douchebag, I guess so. I’m seeing a possible update to the D-Bag Questionnaire.

The Modern-Day Hypocrite June 30, 2008

No, this isn’t a “men suck” posting. It’s actually quite the opposite.

I was instant messaging with a friend this morning, who was asking me for some advice. Last Thursday night, after a couple of cocktails, she had a steamy makeout session with a very cute boy. Well, since their tryst, said boy has not contacted her, even though he has her email address (long story, but they were acquaintances before that fateful evening).

I found myself saying, “Go ahead! Email HIM!” when I knew full well that I wouldn’t do the same thing if I found myself in the same situation. Now, I know plenty of girls out there are going to think I’m way too much of a Rules girl, or too old-fashioned or uptight, but hey, that’s just me. I’m just not one to initiate contact. In fact, when I have in the past, it’s turned out to be a mistake because, well, the guy wasn’t into it.

So why do women do this? Why do we offer up advice that we ourselves wouldn’t follow? I know in this case, I wanted my friend to feel empowered and confident—but why tell her to do something that I wouldn’t?

I asked a couple of my girlfriends if they often gave dating advice that they wouldn’t follow in their own love lives, and here are some of the responses I got to the question:

Friend #1: “When my friends aren’t sure about a new suitor, I am always telling them to give him a chance. There was no spark on the first date? Maybe he was nervous. Go out with him again and see what happens. If I wasn’t feeling it, though, there is never a second date.”

Friend #2: “Maybe not that I wouldn’t follow, but that I don’t follow. I think most of my advice is best-case scenario stuff. Sometimes as I’m giving it, I think, ‘This would be hard for me to do.’”

Friend #3: “Yes (as you know all too well!). I am always 100% honest (read: blunt), and I will tell people if they’re in a bad situation (e.g., “I think you should break up with him”). Does that mean that, if I were in the same situation, I’d find it so easy to break it off with a guy? Not at all. It’s borderline impossible to admit the truth to yourself…I always tell my friends who are starting to date, ‘Do not text him! Do not call him! Do not email him!’ even though I break that rule myself when I get too excited about a guy. It KILLS me that most girlfriends will encourage you to call a guy, or say things like, ‘There’s no way a text message could have scared him off.’ Um, yes there is. Guys are freaks. If you text or call someone before he texts/calls you, it only makes you look desperate and unappealing, no matter how hot/smart/cool you are. PERIOD. Playing the game may not be appealing, but you gotta do it. I hate myself when I forget that.”

I don’t know what the answer to this is. We want our friends to feel great about themselves and the guys they’re seeing—but are we creating false hopes? From now on, instead of saying “Go for it! Call him!” I’m going to say, “Call him if you want, but I wouldn’t.” Or at least, I’m going to try to.

“If You’re Psychologically Normal, Call Me…” June 26, 2008

We’ve all had someone not call us back, but rarely do we get the opportunity to hear how different people (especially crazy people) deal with it.

Well, these might be two of the funniest voicemail messages I’ve ever heard (I’ve been told that they’re real, but who knows?). They star Dimitri the Stud, who clearly thinks pretty highly of himself, and is flabbergasted that the lady of his affections hasn’t responded to his messages.

Just listen for yourself. I don’t want to ruin it.

Dimitri-TheStud -

You Might Be on a Bad First Date If… June 25, 2008

Ah, the incomparable joys of going on a first date. I shudder thinking about it: The stilted conversations, the fumbling over the check, the downing of one too many drinks to “relax” (which is sometimes the best way to go)…I could go on and on.

Luckily, though, my seriously funny friend Sonia (she of The Sonia Show, who also wrote Ten Online Dating Tips right here on The Dating Lame), has already given the topic some thought, especially the signs as to whether or not you might be on a bad first date. Take it away, Sonia:

“So, as I sit here staring at my copies of He’s Just Not That Into You and Sex Tips for Straight Women from a Gay Man and try to figure out which one I should be re-reading, I can’t help but think that dating sucks.

When I was in college, I had this idea: I wanted people to be like Garanimals. Everyone would have a tag with an animal on it and that’s how you would know if someone was right for you: ‘Hey, you’re a blue giraffe! I’m a blue giraffe!’ That person would be your soul mate, I thought. I don’t know if I believe in the idea of soul mates anymore. I think I stopped believing in that when I realized that Milli Vanilli didn’t sing their own songs.

I want to believe in it. I really do! My friends say I will believe in it when I ‘meet the right guy.’ Hello? I’ve been looking for the right guy for a while now. Mr. Right isn’t very punctual. I hate it when people aren’t punctual.

So anyway, in my quest to believe in the concept of soul mates again, I’ve been going on a lot of first dates. Unfortunately, you don’t really get to know someone on a first date. As Chris Rock says, ‘You’re only meeting their representative.’

For example, how many women don’t really eat on a first date, because they don’t want their date to think they are a ginormous pig? Then, when the relationship gets serious, that dainty, sweet flower who used to eat like a bird now stuffs her face like a competitive eater.

The last time I went on a first date, I cleaned my plate and then his. I just wanted to the guy to know what he was getting into. So much for first impressions.

It is first impressions that ultimately doom us on first dates. We are so busy trying to hide the fact that we killed the last person we went on a date with and ditched the body at the Transbay Terminal that we don’t really spend the time getting to know the person sitting across from us in the restaurant. … Or maybe that’s just me.

So, here we go: signs you are on a bad first date. Yes, I realize all these jokes are about men being bad dates, but I don’t date women (not since college anyway – kidding … I swear!), so I’m not really the person to make that list.

• He takes you to Burger King: ‘Oh, what the hell: Order anything you want off the Extra Value Menu. It’s a special night.’

• He asks if he can bring his ex-girlfriend along.

• ‘I’ve got the munchies. I smoked a big, fat one before I came to meet you.’

• ‘This is my first date since I got paroled.’

• After dinner, he wants you to come back to his place and watch all his Family Guy DVDs.

• ‘So, why don’t we go back to my place and you can watch me do the dishes and fight with my roommate?’

• ‘I think sex is highly overrated.’

• When he picks you up, he’s listening to Nickelback, Staind and/or Lifehouse (or some other faceless band that dominates top 40 radio). OH, and it’s his parents’ car.

• The entire dinner conversation is about his ‘lying, cheating, bitch of an ex-girlfriend.’

• ‘If I could just get Mary-Kate Olsen to notice me, I know she’d fall madly in love with me.’

• ‘You know, they say size doesn’t matter. Let’s test that theory.’

• He can’t decide who he loves more: George W. Bush or Dick Cheney.

• He scratches himself all through dinner and then claims that you have fleas.

• ‘I would ask you to come back to my place, but my parents go to bed at 10.’

• ‘So, then I said, ‘Are you sure it’s mine? …’’

• ‘I can’t wait for White Chicks 2 to come out. Of course, it couldn’t be better than the original. I mean, what movie could be?’

• He asks you to translate the Taco Ball menu for him.

• ‘Wow, it’s been a long time since I had a meal that I didn’t have to dig out of the trash first.’

• He is being paid by the hour.”

A Single Girl at the Stove June 23, 2008

Okay, so this post isn’t so much about dating as it is about being single—but one of the joys of being single, mind you.

First off, to give you some context, I adore food. I went to cooking school, and, as a freelance writer, have the good fortune to occasionally write about food and dining for a living. There’s something about cooking that’s relaxing and cathartic to me—maybe it’s the chopping, or concentrating on the smells and the noises that relaxes me, no matter what else is going on in my life. Whatever it is, I love it.

So, this leads me to the meat of my post, so to speak. In my apartment building, there’s an area at the top of the stairs where people often leave books or magazines for others to take if they so please. The other day I spotted a book called Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant: Confessions of Cooking for One and Dining Alone. Being a food junkie and a single girl who lives alone, I just had to pick it up, and started reading it yesterday.

The book is a collection of essays and articles; the very first one, by Laurie Colwin shares the same title as the book. In it, Colwin makes an observation that made me smile: “Cooking for oneself reveals man at his weirdest. People lie when you ask them what they eat when they are alone. A salad, they’ll tell you. But when you persist, they confess to peanut butter and bacon sandwiches deep fried and eaten with hot sauce, or spaghetti with butter and grape jam.” So true.

Another of the essays, which I remember reading in the New York Times a few years ago, is by the fabulous Amanda Hesser. In “Single Meals,” she takes the concept of eating alone a step further by writing about the meals she made when her soon-to-be-husband was out of town. Usually, they were quite simple and soothing—and designed to satisfy whatever craving she was having at the time.

If you ask me, this is one of the greatest joys of being single: being able to indulge yourself, with food or otherwise, at the drop of a hat, no matter how odd your cravings may sound to other people. I do really love cooking for someone else, and will typically make more elaborate meals when I’m dating someone (after all, they say a man’s heart is through his stomach). But there’s something so gratifying about being able to make and enjoy your own peculiar little creations that other people might find crazy.

Much like Hesser, I’ve had a hankering for eggs lately: I’ve been scrambling them with arugula, lemon, a dollop of plain yogurt and a little Parmesan cheese, then spooning the mixture over whole wheat toast, which I find to be the most delicious lunch. I’ll put a sunny side-up egg on top of a bowl of pasta with whatever veggies or greens are lying around, or will sautee onions and tomato with chickpeas an a big old dash of curry powder and garam masala, then put a fried egg on top to quickly quelch a hankering for Indian.

I’m also a big breakfast eater, and usually it’s oatmeal made on the stovetop with lots of cinnamon and a drizzle of honey. Unlike a lot of people, I wake up ravenous, but I love when the oatmeal’s had a little time to cool and get all caramelized and sweet. So I’ll eat half of it to end my hunger, leaving half in the pan, then come back a few minutes later to eat the yummy, gooey rest with an even bigger drizzle of honey. Weird? Maybe. But it’s my “secret single behavior,” as I believe Carrie put it in one episode of Sex and the City.

Anyway, the book got me thinking about how I need to relish more in the freedom that comes along with being single—even if it’s something as small as cooking whatever you want, whenever you want. It can really be a blessing. The teensy, seemingly insignificant things that you do to make yourself happy are all your own—although now you know about a few of mine.

I have to go eat the second half of my oatmeal now. Bon appetit.

Let’s Talk About Sex June 19, 2008

One of the things I’ve noticed since I’ve started this blog is that once I tell people I write a blog about dating, their eyes immediately light up, and they tell me, “I’ve got a story for you!”

Even more interesting, though, is that men suddenly feel like they can tell me anything about sex—and I mean anything. It’s like I’m their own personal Carrie Bradshaw, or a licensed sex therapist or something. Since I’ve been writing The Dating Lame, I’ve discussed the following with men:

• Girls who like to be choked
• Girls who like to be choked HARDER
• Whether it’s normal to pee on someone in the shower
• The merits of waxing
• Which girls like to give the most oral sex
• A guy who touched his date’s IUD on purpose (this may have to get its own post)
• How long to wait before sleeping with someone
• The art of the booty text (no longer a booty call)
• How Botox could potentially improve part of the male anatomy

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. It’s fascinating, and often hilarious. My favorite quote so far? Regarding choking your partner in bed: “I never knew about it in junior high, but now it’s a go-to move!”

Take it from me, girls. If you want to hear more than you ever thought you would about men and sex, just tell ‘em you’re writing a blog. Just a word of warning: You may hear more than you first expected, so if it’s someone you’re interested in, have an open mind!

The Art of Rejection (As if there is one) June 17, 2008

One of the worst things about dating, aside from the lame small talk and awkward kisses, is rejection. Whether you’re the rejector or the rejected, it just sucks, plain and simple.

I’ve been hesitant to reveal too much about myself so far on this blog (having read Emily Gould’s “Exposed” in the New York Times Magazine, a great article, by the way), for fear of getting too personal or someone reading something they might not be happy with. Well, I’ve decided it’s time to open up a bit.

A guy I’d been out with a few times (who just so happens to be very nice, smart, funny, and an all-around good guy) emailed me today to ask me out again, and I had to tell him honestly that I wasn’t feeling a romantic connection. I told him that I thought it was best to just be upfront, and although I’ve had a good time and think incredibly highly of him, it just isn’t going to go any further.

I think it was the right thing to do, but I still can’t help feel like a jerk. I’ve certainly been on the receiving end of rejection before (and, even worse, the fade-out with no explanation)—and I know how much it stinks to put yourself out there and then not get the result you were hoping for.

Still, I think avoiding the situation would have been worse. In the wise, wise words of DeAnna Pappas from last night’s Bachelorette, “I don’t want to lead you guys on the way I was led on.” After all, what goes around ultimately comes around, right?

A Quick Addition to the D-Bag Questionnaire June 17, 2008

Do your jeans match your girlfriend’s? If so, chances are you’re a douchebag.

I just couldn’t resist taking this stealth pic at an event last night…

To Settle or not to Settle June 12, 2008

A comment on my post the other day about standards and expectations recommended I read a recent article by Lori Gottlieb in the Atlantic Monthly entitled, humorously enough, “Marry Him!” Single ladies, you MUST read this article, if you haven’t already. I’m not kidding. Whether or not you agree with her, it’s some great food for thought.

In it, Ms. Gottlieb, a single mother in her 40s who decided to have a baby on her own, figuring that she’d find her soul mate “later,” urges younger women to “settle”—while they still even have a choice. Now, she’s not saying that you should marry just any old guy who asks you out; nor is she saying that you should marry someone who is abusive, nasty or just plain completely wrong for you.

What she’s saying is this: All those little quirks (like, “I don’t like how he holds his fork” and “His laugh is irritating”) aren’t really a big deal. What IS a big deal is ending up alone. And when it comes to raising a family, priorities change anyway: Passion isn’t number one on the list; being a good partner is. So maybe Mr. Good Enough is enough?

Just a few paragraphs into the article, Ms. Gottlieb drew me in with this: “I’m guessing there are single 30-year-old women reading this right now who will be writing letters to the editor to say that the women I know aren’t widely representative, that I’ve been co-opted by the cult of the feminist backlash, and basically, that I have no idea what I’m talking about. And all I can say is, if you say you’re not worried, either you’re in denial or you’re lying. In fact, take a good look in the mirror and try to convince yourself that you’re not worried, because you’ll see how silly your face looks when you’re being disingenuous.”

You know what? She’s right. I just turned 30 last November, and I can tell you, I’m worried. As much as I love my life and my freedom and my friends, I have to be honest: I never thought I’d be single at 30. One of my closest friends in San Francisco is 25, and I often find myself looking at her and thinking to myself, “Wow, when I was her age, I never thought I’d still be dating.” No joke. Because no matter how great my social life is, and I do enjoy it, I’m still alone.

I can’t even tell you how many nice, smart, funny, attractive, good-on-paper guys I’ve tossed to the wayside because I “wasn’t feeling it,” as Ms. Gottlieb says in her article. Heck, one of my former college flames actually flew from New York to San Francisco a few years ago to tell me he’d been thinking about me since college and that he wanted to give it a shot—and I didn’t even give him a chance (mainly because I thought the gesture was a little TOO bold, bordering on crazy, but I’m just using this as an example). And I’m usually complaining that men don’t put it out there enough.

Again, whether you agree with her or not, the article does make some good points: that a companion, even a boring one, isn’t a bad thing, that as we get older maybe we get a little too critical and that, unfortunately for romantics like myself, passion isn’t everything when it comes to finding a life partner.

A little depressing? Sure. But, I do think it’s important to take a good look at what you’re looking for—and make sure you’re not ruling people out for things that don’t really matter.

I’m still holding out for chemistry. For now. But check with me in five years or so.

You can read the entire article at http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200803/single-marry/.