Table for One

Do you know what I can’t stand (other than bigots and bad grammar)?  Whiny single people. What’s worse than that? That would be whiny single people on Valentine’s Day.

I am single. I am single by choice.  Maybe it’s because I refuse to settle for the wrong person just to have someone, or perhaps I find compromising a pain in my ass; but either way, it’s my choice. I truly don’t understand people that find their self-worth in having a boy/girlfriend.  If someone is desperate to have someone on Valentine’s Day then they should go ahead and settle for someone with whom they have nothing in common, someone who hogs the remote control or a loser that treats them like shit - and have a wonderfully romantic day!

As with most things in life, you have two options: Feel sorry for yourself for the hand that this big, mean world has dealt you; or, see yourself as an intelligent, independent happy person and TREAT YOURSELF for Valentine’s Day. 

Here’s how:

First, understand that Valentine’s Day is basically a Hallmark holiday.  If someone doesn’t show their sig-other how much they care about them on a daily basis, they are an idiot and don’t deserve to have a sig-other.  That being said, I like chocolate.

Second, decorate your home with hearts and flowers for February, regardless of whether you have someone in my life or not.  Don’t see it as a glaring reminder that you are single, but a wonderful reminder that you are loved by your parents, siblings, kids, your friends and yes, even your pets.  Show those people that love you when you are at your worst that you love and appreciate them for it. Make them little treats, buy or make them a card, or just tell them that you love and appreciate them.  Valentine’s Day does not have to be just about lovers but just about love.

Most importantly, love yourself first (I don’t mean in the physical sense but if that makes you happy when you wake up in the morning, go for it). We have all heard it a million times and it’s true: you will never find someone to love you if you don’t love you.  Every year on Valentine’s Day I do something special for myself.  Last year it was a massage and it was probably one of the best Valentine’s Days I have ever had (remember, there are nearly always openings at the salon on this day because all of the attached people are out to dinner or whatever).  I had an awesome massage late in the day then went home all warm and mushy, had a glass of wine and a nice dinner, read a great book and relaxed for the evening. I didn’t have to argue with myself about what to watch on TV and I was not disappointed in the least in the gift I had received. 

This year - this evening - I am getting a facial (insert dirty joke here and see footnote on facials). I scheduled it months ago and have been looking forward to it ever since.  Again, Valentine’s Day doesn’t have to be a reminder that you are single, but more a reminder that you are loved and that you love youself.  

And now for my advice to men for the day:

Whenever I tell certain friends that I am scheduled for a facial, they giggle. Of course they are thinking of the dirty sense of the word.  I typically giggle too because most of the time I have the sense of humor of a 17 year-old boy; however, I am here to tell you men the truth: women don’t enjoy your kind of facials. If you have been with a woman that told you she did, she lies.  She is trying to look either cool or freaky in bed but either way, she lied to you. If you are a guy and you are into that kind of thing, you really should date a porn star. Porn stars don’t like it either but they don’t really have much of a choice if they want to get paid.  Your girlfriend/wife can thank me now.

 Have a great Valentine’s Day everyone, particularly if you are single!

Phuket is Not Just a City in Thailand

So clearly the dating game has hit a brick wall. A brick fire wall. You know the kind that keeps fire on the other side of the wall? Yeah, that kind. Granted, I may be a little gun-shy after the last guy (that I almost dated) who couldn’t even remember which chick I was; but the point is, things have been a little slow. On the other hand, I have been very busy adjusting to my new life as an empty nester. I have been filling my days with such life-changing things as cleaning out closets, reorganizing bathrooms and making a Facebook page for my dog (true story).

My most recent venture (and as it turns out much more interactive than my dog’s Facebook page): a neighborhood book club.

Two years ago I belonged to a book club that I enjoyed a great deal. It allowed me to read books that I would not normally read, and the women involved had vastly different viewpoints (conservative) than the people with which I usually hangout (not conservative). It was a very diverse group that brought interesting input to the discussions. They even put up with my crazy antics and choice of mindless books (usually of a sexual nature). What I didn’t like about it was driving all over God’s creation to go to the meetings (which left drinking to a minimum. Boooo! ). Eventually the vast differences in the members created bickering and in-fighting that led to the club’s demise. I believe it’s still active, but many of the original members are gone.

I remember on one particular evening we were finished discussing the book and somehow the talk turned to sex and then, our number of sexual partners. Normally I know better than to share that information but Of COURSE the conversation began with “you can be honest” and “no one will judge you”. So when I said my number (or the closest I can get), one of the girls (who has been married for many years and whose number is supposedly 4) said, “Wow. You were a real slut, weren’t you?” Typically name calling doesn’t bother me. No one is surprised by the fact that I enjoy sex and when you enjoy something, why would you want to have the same kind every day? It’s kinda like eating cookies. If you really like cookies do you want the same kind of cookie day after day? No. You want a variety of cookies so they don’t get boring. But it wasn’t so much the words coming out of the girl’s mouth that bothered me, but rather whose mouth out of which they came. I never suspected this woman to be judgmental until that night and I never looked at her the same way again in the future.

Anyway, eventually I quit that book club but I did miss the camaraderie and discussion so I thought I would start one in my own neighborhood (where I can just stagger home after an enlightening evening of profound discussion and massive quantities of wine). I already had a few women in mind to invite but I know these women well and we are all pretty likeminded. I wanted some real differences of opinion so I thought of an older woman that lives in my hood. She is probably in her 70’s, is a lot of fun and seems young at heart. (Come on! She even got her first tattoo at 60!) So I assumed she would be okay with our group. I phoned and invited her to join telling her I thought she would be a great addition and would bring some different perspective to the club.She told me she was interested but the only thing holding her back was that she “didn’t like the ‘F’ word”. Uh-oh.

Anyone who knows me (or reads my blog) knows the love affair I have with the word “fuck”. The way it rolls of the tongue when used in the middle of a fucking sentence; the harshness of it when it’s over annunciated as an expletive. FUCK! It’s awesome! And don’t even get me started on its versatility. Furthermore, it’s become so main-stream with so many variations used - even in freaking television these days - I just assumed that it was no longer offensive in casual conversation. Obviously I wouldn’t use it in business; but, that girl in the suit speaking in a professional voice and acting like she cares what you have to say isn’t the real me anyway.

Needless to say, I was pretty surprised by my friend’s reaction to the word and the fact that she hated it so much it would keep her from joining our group. What happens if someone chooses a book that uses the word freely? Would that offend her too? I needed to know more. “Really? Why?”, I asked. She didn’t really give me a specific reason but rather told me a story of a bunch of women with whom she used to go camping that used the word freely. She said that she eventually confessed her disdain for the word and in lieu of using the word they started calling it the “PH” word. Wait, what?? It’s one thing not to use the word or to call it the “F” word in lieu of that, but even the acronym for it has to change? WHAT THE PHUK IS THAT???

Of course I love words and I have always been of the belief that words are only powerful if you empower them. I mean, let’s say someone calls me an idiot. I know I am not an idiot and therefore those words are powerless. On the other hand, let’s say someone calls me a slob. I don’t consider myself a slob but if I am honest with myself, I would have to admit that I do have a tendency to be messy; so that may hit a nerve. Another example: a famous politician is giving a speech. If you lean toward that candidate’s way of thinking, you find it to be powerful. But, if you don’t agree with the candidate and you don’t believe a word that is coming out of his mouth, then his speech doesn’t mean shit to you. So why give so much power to one particular word?

Some of my friends have issues with certain words and I find it amusing (and totally use it against them). One of them doesn’t like the word “panties” and another hates the word “moist”. I can annoy them both in one fell swoop by saying “My panties are moist.” BAM! As for me, I can only think of one word that can physically make me flinch when someone uses it: the “N” word. I don’t believe that word should be used by anyone be they white or black. I do however believe that I have good reason; having seen the movie Roots as a child and having been impacted by the horror of that movie, it takes me back every time I hear it. Other than that, words don’t bother me.

Anyway, as there is no way for me to curb the entire group’s language, much less my own (nor would I want to), unfortunately there is one less addition to our book club. What a shame that one word can be given so much power as to keep a woman that doesn’t get out much from having a fun evening out. We do, however, have a great name for our club: it’s a Fucking Book Club.

So now I am curious if there any words in particular that my readers can’t stand? If so, is there a reason behind the disdain for the word or is it just the way it sounds?

Dating and the Internet: The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

The Good:

You can meet a shitload of people these days over the internet.  Back in the day you met potential mates at a bar, church, a party, etc.  It required you to remove your ass from the couch, get all gussied-up, and actually walk out of your house if you wanted to meet someone (unless you were looking for a nice Jehovah Witness, in which case you just needed to answer the door).  There were far less potential partners to choose from.  Maybe you met one or two at a party, three or four at church and a half a dozen at a club. This is not the case anymore.  I can sit on my couch in my pajamas with bedhead and no makeup and meet dozens of guys online. Based on their profiles, I can also determine their level of literacy (kind of a deal-breaker for me) before the sappy love-notes even start (that I would feel the need to correct for spelling and grammatical errors and return to them).  I can “ignore” them if I choose, or email them if I want more information.  It’s awesome in an incredibly lazy kind of way.

The Bad:

Choose a previous Antics blog post.  Read it.  Insert story here.

 

The Ugly:

When I was younger and fell head over heels in love with a guy (and it ended in a fiery inferno), I admit that a few times I would show up at his work or his house to see if he was (a) where he said he was going to be and (b) with someone else in that place he said he was going to be.  Some people would call that stalking.  Stalking is such an ugly word.  I prefer “Curious As To His Whereabouts And Company” (or CATH WAC).  Doesn’t that sound better??

Whatever you want to call it, back in the day before Facebook and cell phones, one could only CATH WAC someone for a relatively short period of time before they had to be at work or do their laundry or get other shit done.   These days, with all of the technology we have at our disposal, you can CATH WAC someone from the comfort of your own home, or car, or sitting on the fucking toilet for God’s sake. Sometimes, it is whether you choose to not. 

For example:

 A good friend of my daughter’s broke up with her long-term boyfriend when she left for college.  She was pretty upset that the relationship had ended.  She did her best to put on a brave face but her first mistake was remaining friends with him on Facebook. Inevitably, every time he made friends with a new chick, it came up on her news feed (Hello, Salt! Please jump into my wound!).  Then of course, she would creep on those girls’ FB profiles (let this be a lesson to you, HIDE YOUR FB PROFILE FROM PUBLIC VIEW!!)  She tortured herself daily, hourly and even secondly at times; literally watching him move on from halfway across the country! (Clearly we have come a long way from sitting in our cars in front of someone’s house.)  To make matters worse, when she wasn’t creeping on FB, she would get text messages from “friends” telling her all of the shitty things he had done/was doing while she was away. She couldn’t get away from it even if she had wanted to.  

Eventually she got smart and blocked his ass on Facebook and told her friends to knock it the fuck off, but the damage had been done.  What should have taken a few weeks to get over and begin to heal took a lot longer because technology kept pulling the scab off.  (Yes.  That would be the ugly part.)

Seriously, how many people do we know that may have stalkerish tendencies that soon turn into full on get-a-retraining-order-whack-jobs because of the ease of technology? My guess is that it is far more today than ever before.

And don’t even get me started on camera phones and camcorders!  I am forever looking for holes in the walls of department store dressing rooms…

So what do you think? Has technology helped or hurt the dating scene? Has anyone had any similar experiences with break-ups and technology?

Guest Blog: A Man's Point of View

As one of the author’s readers and close friends, I have immensely enjoyed the wit and wisdom of her blog. Yet in spite of the classically distasteful spin regarding online dating sites, I have ventured down this scary road on my own recently. With little time for the bar scene, and rare other chances to meet someone of the opposite sex, I thought I would give it a try. I figured it could not be as bad as everyone says. Certainly the horror stories and blog posts are exaggerated, under artistic license, to enhance the reader’s enjoyment. But alas, I was wrong.

The stories, if anything, have been underplayed. Either in an effort to protect the guilty or at least to not completely disenfranchise the reader, she has made it seem that online dating is suspect, inconvenient, and fraught with small dangers. It is a lot worse than that. It is a minefield of misrepresentation, outright lunacy, and enough unresolved issues for a thousand doctorate degrees in psychology.

I joined a common dating site, and like most, the users are encouraged to post pictures. In fact, I am sure that profiles without pictures are readily dismissed, as it is a prominent criterion for any search you may want to do. The site makes it convenient to quickly eliminate the profiles without pictures. Yes, we are all still hard-wired to be physically attracted to our mates, at least initially. I know beauty is only skin deep, but butt-ugly is more often than not a deal breaker. So I have had to peruse thousands of pictures of single women. Seriously, what are these women thinking? If a picture is worth a thousand words, some of these photos are screaming in a foreign language.

As a community service, I thought I would share some suggestions for female dating site users that may help.

1.       If your profile says that all your kids are over 18, then the picture you have with your son when he was 8 may be considered outdated.

2.       If you only post one picture, and it is a group shot of you and your girlfriends at some event, try letting us know which one you are.  Me: “Are you the one in the middle?” Her: “No, I am the one second from the left.” Me: “Can you introduce me to the one in the middle?”

3.       If you are posting a picture of you with your pet, that’s great. If it is just a picture of your pet, don’t bother. I am not looking to date your pet (though some men on the site might be).

4.       If your profile says you are not looking for sex or “one night stands”, avoid the pictures of you on your bed dressed in lingerie. It sends a mixed signal.

5.       If you want to post something sexy or provocative, avoid the overhead shot looking down your cleavage. It is way overdone. Every woman has tits and there is probably a classier way to insure he knows you have big ones. If you’re not looking for sex, see suggestion above.

6.       If you post multiple pictures and they are all close-up face shots, we are going to assume you are "larger than life" (and I am not talking personality here). 

7.       If your profile says you drink socially, it's probably best to not have every picture you post be of you in a bar with a drink in your hand. Unless, of course, you mean “socially” as in anytime I am near people.

8.       Don’t post an old picture of you and your ex from your wedding. Not sure exactly why this doesn’t work, but it just doesn’t.

9.       Don’t post pictures in which you are not pictured. No one cares about your favorite poem, the cool picture of butterflies you found on the internet, or your grandma’s cookie recipe.

10.   Don’t post the picture you got from “Glamour Shots”. Men can recognize them easily and we know you don’t look like that without hours of hair and make-up work done in a professionally lit studio.

11.   Be aware of your background. The great pic of you can be a turn off if behind you is a kitchen table full of junk, dishes overflowing out of the sink, or your 200 count Prozac prescription bottle.

12.   Don’t take a picture of yourself in the mirror holding your phone. This screams that you don’t have at least one friend who would be willing to take a picture for you.

Thanks for reading and happy hunting!

 

In his spare time, Brad writes his own incredibly intelligent blog.  Check it out:

http://commonsensiblyspeaking.com/

Hugs, Gina