Look What the Inbox Dragged In.

Once upon a time many years ago a little sister found herself not a big fan of her older sister's dating choices. So rather than roll her eyes, she rolled up her sleeves and quietly stepped in to see if SHE couldn't do better...

Cleaning my inbox tonight, I found a Craigslist post...about me... that my sister had put up moments before admitting the same to me (the admission came via IM. smart girl)

In honor of our sisterly mutual admiration of Millionaire Matchmaker, and mostly because I don't want to ever lose track of this entertaining piece of history, I'm sharing it with you here.

*******

i have a sister who is awesome (and 28 years old). she's been single for awhile, and i feel like all the guys she dates are eye candy/dumb/just not right or nice to her (she usually goes out with hunky tall, dark and handsome assholes - if you're tall, dark and handsome, please keep reading, but if you're an asshole, then there's no need to continue.)
i hereby am holding auditions for the role of 'potential future boyfriend', which may develop into the role of 'potential future friend' or 'potential future funny story to tell everyone we know' to apply for the position concerning my awesome sister who does not know i am writing this, please read the following.


things you need to know about her:

1. she has an irrefutable love of madonna that you can attempt to hold against her, but if you do, then you should probably stop reading at this point.

2. she has sarcasm and wit to boot, so be on top of your email and your comebacks because no one can dish it like her. i would also venture to say that she's probably the funniest person on the planet.

3. she also has an irrefutable love of books: milan kundera is one of her favorites, she likes salman rushdie and rainer maria rilke and 'the prophet', lots of middle eastern literature, david sedaris, etc.etc. her aforementioned wit and humor are a product of her love for books. can you read? do you read? let's start there!

4. she loves to do stuff. i feel like she's always out and about. she runs, she dances, she gets really big groups of friends together to do ridiculous fun things like bar crawls complete with scorecards and 'rex kwon do' lessons. she is always up for adventure, laughs a lot, and has a good time everywhere she goes.

5. she really does not like guys who are players. you must return her phone calls, and you must not annoy her little sister (me) because i will vote you off the island. you must treasure the art of the mixtape, even when it has things like britney spears "toxic" on it and maybe have a really funny blog that she can read when she misses you or wants to be reminded of how awesome you are.
interested? give me the 5 things she'll need to know about you.
p.s. if you own a faux silk shirt that you usually wear unbuttoned exposing all your jeri-curl'ed chest hair, i think you need not apply.
this is in or around san diego, ca
no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Text the Ways.

I've said I’d write about this before, and here it is:

Technology will be the downfall of romance.

I’m sure I’m not the first to say it, but hopefully someone soon will be the last. It's something I've thought about a lot, and finally was motivated to put down (ironically in e-format). I needed to address the situation after hearing an ongoing stream of horror stories: Reading a tone wrong. Realizing that the guy you have so admired doesn’t have basic spelling on lock. Being sent a text clearly meant for someone else. Being sent a photo that begs to be forwarded to your entire address book.

I am particularly sensitive to the intersection of technology and romance for two reasons- one, I myself am guilty of relying (too) heavily on electronics for communications. And two – I am extremely sensitive to the way people communicate. Whether it's because I pick my own words carefully or if I’m just the sensitive type, I choose every word I use specifically because it’s the word to use, and I assume others do too. (This is a really, really bad idea. Just trust me.)

Someone already established that men and women hail from different planets, and adding techno-translation is frankly a problem we all don’t need. Yet, we increasingly rely on technology to communicate with the people we are bringing into the innermost parts of our lives. On the one hand, we over-rely on it, and on the other, we ourselves become guilty of the over-reveal. Can we preserve a little mystery, people?

The following is (sadly) only a partial list of electronic communications that are throwing a wrench in it for all of us.

TEXTING

The most common guilty pleasure. You know you do it. Texts can be cute, we think! They’re a way to tell someone, in a limited number of characters, how you’re thinking about them. They’re offhanded, they’re fun! But here are the catches:

a. Technology is not reliable.

Now, I think a lot of people use this fact as an excuse (“Sorry! Never got your message!”), but it’s gotten so bad that recently my friend and I had to decide to “roger” this or that so we know our texts went through (cough cough, SPRINT). Sad state of affairs for 2011, but it is what it is. So when you send a text, it’s become a little more of a message in a bottle than we previously anticipated. Which creates a dilemma when there is an awkward pause. Did you make an off-color joke and get silence back? Now you’ll never know if you pissed someone off or if they didn’t get it at all.

b. You are minimized to a few sentences.

Bcuz u b turning women off with u letters instead of words.

Look at how dumb Twitter can make people look. Texting does that for you every day. Writing on the fly is the quickest way to show someone that, if you aren’t paying attention or if you're limited for space, you can look ignorant of basic grammatical rules. Ok, that’s not a dating dealbreaker (for most people), but I’m just saying, it doesn’t help. And don't even get me started on sexting.

And then there’s the whole tone thing. No one has developed sarcasm font, which I have been pushing for for ages. Women in particular are guilty of hanging on those sentences, unable to read tone. Was he kidding? Was he serious? Now she won't know, but she'll save the text and ask 23 of her closes friends. Ay.

Some men try to convey tone with emoticons, but we all know that is really just tough territory. Note: avoid putting noses in your smiley faces at all costs.

EMAIL

Email represents a problem that exists with technology as a whole. That is: not everyone is on email the same amount. Someone told me about a teenager they know who sleeps with her phone ACROSS HER EYES so if it buzzes with news (text, email) she will wake up. The point is, we’re all connected to a different extent.

I have a desk job and many people I know do too. So we respond quickly to most emails. They are a welcome break from spreadsheets, powerpoints, and emails that make your eyes roll. So yeah, given the choice between reviewing someone’s latest report and reading a juicy email from a friend, I’m no dummy. I’m gonna hear that “bing” on my personal email and get happy. And the fact that I type 100+ wpm makes it easy for me to respond quickly - and sometimes, at length – to you. It doesn’t mean I’m in love with you. Well, it might. The problem being that it probably gives that impression regardless.

Last weekend my friend and I discussed the intersection of technology and dating at length. We imagined (remembered?) what it was like dating back in a day when people went on dates, then had a week of silence in between and didn’t think anything of it. Because it was NORMAL. She pointed out that, back in the day, a you would never expect the other person to check on you in the middle of her workday. People had their own lives, which they could then discuss on a scheduled date. They did not have a constant thread connecting them to the boring minutae of each others' days.

No matter how busy a person is these days, you could be a surgeon on the fields in Africa, and the person you’re dating expects that, since you have a phone on you, you will be connected. Today, knowing that you can reach someone at virtually any point, there is an expectation there. The fact is, yeah, sometimes we leave our phones on the dinner table, sometimes it's on our desks, but not always. Having access to someone's phone isn't the same as having 24/7 access to them. Or is it?

As if we aren’t all reading too much into everything anyway, non-communication becomes a void, a failure, if someone we like isn’t responding. If someone texts someone else and doesn’t hear back for 4 hours, it becomes an implicit statement of disinterest. Which is, frankly, insane. Check yo’self before you wreck yo’self. And yes, I just said that.

THE WEB IN GENERAL: RESEARCH TOOL OF THE MASSES

Stalking is a fine line, my friends. My people and I have debated at length the propriety of doing a Google search on someone before a date. I am anti. When I have Googled (rare) it has been because someone told me to or because I need a picture. Ok, and maybe to check that there’s no outstanding criminal situation.

The technodilemma we’re facing in the day of Google is that much of the fun of first dating-- the revelation stage - is taken away. When someone tells me where they’re from or their education or about their travels, I get to enjoy exhibiting genuine surprise. My friends cannot always say the same. (I’m sure they fake it well) But what Google has you doing is creating even more preconceived notions, one way or another, about the person. The organic getting to know you process is totally obliterated.

And don’t even get me started on the Facebook friend add. You don’t bring your high school yearbook on a first dinner date, do you?

SOCIAL MEDIA, OR AFTERMATH REPORTING

I think we can all agree that, in the day of social media, privacy is gone. One girl I know decided to break up with a guy because he "checked in" somewhere with another girl while they were dating (in her defense, he’s obviously an idiot). Social media gives us a venue to cross-check what someone tells us about themselves, because most people don't even realize where they are inconsistent.

This becomes highly problematic after a date, after a relationship, if someone posts something vague but unpromising. You will automatically read into what it means. (“You’re so vain” is about all of us, honey.) Even worse if they are blatant about it. And yes, for a minute I felt a wave of regret for the blog posts I’ve written about certain dates. But just for a minute.

BACK TO THE BASICS

Well, the good news is I can identify the problem. We are relying on modern technology to communicate where we’re all still getting the hang of said technology, much of which has only appeared in our lives in the last decade. The bad news is I’m not sure I have a solution in a world where online dating is on the rise, everyone has a laptop, and the new iPhone model is like crack on the streets. Obviously we’re online all the time, we’re on our phones all the time.

I don’t want to get crazy, but maybe we can mix it up and go old school once in a while. Didn’t you hear? The ringing of the phone is the new mating call.

Singles' Guilt: Admitting is the First Step

Some people discover hidden planets. They give it a name, and they live on in whatever scientists' version of fame and fortune is.

I have discovered a phenomenon myself. And I named it. It's called "Singles' Guilt".

Maybe I should have been a sociologist- I like examining social phenomena and giving it a name, and then making people around me use it whenever they talk to me about an applicable situation (see also: Friend Poaching).

DEFINING IT.

This weekend I was having fun hanging out with a friend and promised her I would finally set my latest theory/find to paper - so here it is: Singles' Guilt. The punctuation is intentional; it refers to the situation in which a single/singles make themselves feel guilty for being single.

The consequences of Singles' Guilt can be mild to severe, depending on the stage of affliction. It can begin with a poorly thought-out visit to an ex, or it can end with a tearful, sloppy rendition of Love is a Battlefield. By educating yourself, you can best protect yourself and those around you.

WHY ROMANTIC MATH IS ANNOYING.

Singles' Guilt is endorsed and perpetuated by society. I think of this every time I get pushed onto the floor at a wedding to catch a bouquet -- which by the way, is pretty much a feminine gladiator ring (those girls throw 'bows!). And let's be honest- Singles' Guilt is visibly nurtured in society by the modern day tarring-and-feathering that is bridesmaid dresses. It's like a scarlet letter A, but scarlet at least goes with my skin tone.

Social mathematics is also at fault- by which I mean the simple equation: Single + Single = Couple! Many people believe this math (for example, a certain someone who mentioned a guy to me with the sole descriptors "over 30 and looking for a wife). But since the singles are too busy reading self-help books and being set up on awkward dates to take the time to disprove mathematic hypotheses, people around the world continue to believe said equation and throw singles together in the hopes they will spontaneously mate. It's like the "only two people left on the planet" theory in action. If two people are STILL single after so long, they must be drawn to one another, no?

I, for one, know that even if I was left on the planet with only one man and if that man was disgusting to me in some way (ex. Tea Party candidate, wearer of strappy man-sandals, racist, or a fan of Andie MacDowell- not in that order), that nothing could shake my vow to stay single in that situation. I could disprove the couple equation of social math, but we have more important work to do here, folks.

SIGNS AND SYMPTOMS OF SINGLES' GUILT.

Lately I've noticed lots of girlfriends (in particular) going on dates because they feel like they're supposed to. Giving a guy a second shot because, again, they feel like they're supposed to. What is this "supposed to" business? Well, they're doing it because they feel Singles' Guilt (when you use it, remember to capitalize, 'kay?)

I'm not saying women shouldn't be open-minded- we ALL should-- Mr. Awesome may show up on date two or three, when the guy you've been dating drops his guard a little and stops talking about himself and making forced jokes. I definitely believe in staying open minded... but you owe it to yourself to have that *curiosity* about the person. If you take a deep breath of relief after you close your door and lock yourself into your house for the night, then methinks this isn't the match for you. If you force yourself to march forward, that's not dating, that's a modern-day form of arranged marriage, but instead of parents (or in some cases, including them), you're being nudged by your own "guilty" conscience.

AND THEN THERE WAS ONE.

Singles' Guilt is apparent to me in how so many people around me (and sometimes even myself) act like they did something *wrong* by not settling down yet. It's as if we are playing a game of musical chairs and we are really, really bad at it. Everyone else got a chair! You're still standing! LOSER! Maybe you're standing because you were still enjoying the music. If there was a chair, I would have taken it! we cry.

So then the single finds themselves self-flagellating (as soon as they look up what that means) -- they didn't "pick" someone in time, therefore they lose the lovely option of choice. They start forcing themselves to hurry up, like it's a romantic freakin clearance sale. That is just sad, people.

SINGLE AND PICKY AREN'T ALWAYS THE SAME THING.

Let's be clear. In some cases they are. But a lot of times they aren't. Sometimes you're just single because it's not your time to be dating someone. Sometimes there is something else you should be doing. Sometimes there is someone coming your way and you won't meet them at 22 like your college roommate did.

SYMPTOM: THE SEARCH FOR AN ALIBI.

On more than one Friday night I've talked to friends who almost whisper their whereabouts into the phone.

Me: "Where are you?"

Them: "...home?...I think I um... I might be getting sick?... or... I might have to work?"

What they have is a case of the Singles' Guilt. They FEEL like they should be out that night because they are not paired off. They are tired, they had a long week, they have family drama, maybe they are getting over a breakup. But in their Singles' Guilt-ridden minds, they (ahem, WE) are slacking...slacking on their part-time job of finding someone to propagate the species with by staying home with their ice cream and comfy blanket on the couch. You know Singles' Guilt because you really do start to feel like it's a part-time job to de-single yourself. You feel like you're playing hooky by staying in, cooking dinner, and having the nerve to enjoy your own company.

THE SHOWMANSHIP OF SINGLES.

Singles' Guilt also manifests itself in what the lovely Carrie Bradshaw in one episode described as "singing for your supper" when around married friends. In that episode, Carrie talks about how couples almost expect singles to regale them with tales of dating. I confess I am one such storyteller (trust me, my stories are GOOD) but Singles' Guilt takes an angle on this. Sometimes you, oh victim of Singles' Guilt, find yourself rattling off your list of dates and stories just so that people will know you are TRYING, therefore "not guilty."

Believe it or not, I've found that my friends are just as interested to hear about my latest tour of the world, my stack of books, my hobbies, and my other adventures that don't center on dating. Try it, you might be surprised.

BYE BYE, GUILT!

Well, as Miss Diana says (and later, Phil Collins, thereby violating my fatwa on his doing covers of other people's songs), You Can't Hurry Love.

So if you're gonna feel guilty about something, do me a favor and let it be about the fact that, deep down, you actually like his version of "True Colors".

Because that, my friend, is the only thing you should *really* lose sleep over.

A Tale of Two Italians

I slump over and sigh when I think of the idea of typing up my recent dating adventures, it's true. But I continue to remind myself that my (mis)adventures are to someone's great, great entertainment in the cyberworld. Without further ado I'll entertain you with my latest and greatest.

Date #1 (Wednesday) was with a guy who sounded promising on paper- a mix of my people and Italians (I figure when you add Italian genes to anything it can only be good!).

When I first got matched with him I almost deleted just on the basis of his name, which is an old man name, the equivalent of "Stanley" or "Melvin" or "Milton". Our emails were brief and text banter was funny, example: I had texted that he was "confirmed" for Wednesday night and he responded with a confirmation code.

So, fast forward to the date. Upon walking in, it was immediately clear to me that he was slightly cuter than his pics, more... "petite" somehow than he had appeared in two dimensions. Luckily I knew that lots of guys lie about their height in general, so I didn't wear my big clonker platforms and went with more conservative heels. But that always throws me off. Once a guy said he was something like 5'6 and I wore my clunkers and I spent all afternoon looking at the top of his head while we walked through the museum. I'm not saying don't be short, I'm just saying 1) give me a heads up and 2) I'd have to really, really like you to put my future kids through that genetic sandtrap.

I will now share with you the pro/con list I have made for the entertainment of my friends about said date.

Pro:
*self-motivated, successful, friendly
*thoughtful (suggested we meet for Chicago style pizza when he heard I was from there)
*multicultured (half Persian, half Italian)
*likes to travel (!)
*polite (!!)

Con:
*bottom braces. Ironically, these were not the problem (I realize beggars can't be choosers) until at the end of the meal, when he announced "I have bottom braces, so sorry if there's a garage sale in them". (gagging as i type)

*said Chicago pizzeria was chosen because it's across the street from his house. he has a tab there

*when i commented on his unusual bicultural background and said there must be a fun story to his parents' meeting, he answered that his mom had died when he was 9 and so he didn't know. Um, there are a LOT of reasons you don't have to know, but tossing that out as your reply 40 min into the date is just awkward. Naturally I tried to steer the conversation to something less probing. Silly me. I asked if he had siblings (which, can we agree, is a VERY fair first date question) and he said "I was afraid you were going to ask that..."

Talk about down on his luck: "my sister died too. Of an overdose..." I know right now you're thinking I'm a monster, the Barbara Walters of the dating world, cornering her innocent interviewee until they burst into tears. But rest assured that promptly the phrase "In a lot of ways it was was a relief" was used in reference to said sibling passing. Also said: "When someone dies, you just go 'Ok, they're dead, moving on." Um. Someone call Dr. Phil.

CONs, continued:
*repeatedly commented on the fact that I was his first eH date. fine. but standing on the streetcorner repeatedly saying "YOU POPPED MY EHARMONY CHERRY! POP!" is not ok.

*recent travel = Dubai. Which was fine until I asked him what he liked about it and he said "The women were really pretty, with just their eyes showing. It was cool" When i pointed out that it probably wasn't fun for the women and that, as a women, wearing a burka might be, I dunno, disturbing, he was genuinely surprised, and sat back taking in my counterpoint. UM YEAH.

*politesse involved insisting he walk me to my car and repeatedly saying "Don't worry, i won't try to suck face with you". Did i mention he was 36?

Saturday I tried to bounce back with Date #2. Now, Patti, the Millionaire Matchmaker, is quick to warn that coffee dates aren't dates - "they're auditions". But I thought it was fine; the guy was native Italian, so maybe that's just how Italians roll! When with Romans, etc., right?

My date showed up and looked much like his photos, albeit something inside me kept saying "Jay Leno, Jay Leno" to me, which I wasn't happy about. He smiled a lot and had very pretty eyes, and I'd like to send a shout out to the waitress (thanks a lot tramp!) who stopped by our table to lean over and compliment him on them. We got into a talk about art licensing and he asked how I knew so much about it/how I got into licensing and of course found out I was a lawyer, at which point I felt interest wane a little, but realize that may just be my sensitivity to the fact that how attracted a guy is to me is inversely proportionate to how much he knows about my education.

He was very friendly but after a while I noticed he was not into asking me about myself AT ALL. We talked about his art hobby and his job for the most part. If you quizzed Mr. #2 about me, I think he could tell you that I like sitting in the chair facing the sun and that I have black hair.

That said, I like learning about people and I was interested to hear what he had to say. He did ask me about my sister's art. Like, a lot. The optimist in me says "this is a guy who is family oriented!" the realist in me says "this is a guy who wants suggestions on how to sell his art successfully!"

So the truth is I didn't meet my future husband tonight, but look Ma, I'm trying! And about Date #2 I'll leave with these parting words of wisdom: "Hint: heterosexual male looking to make positive impression on female hereby advised against Cirque du Soleil tee shirt"

Just Because It's Pink Don't Make It a Valentine

I loved the movie Up in the Air. I didn't like the ending, but I loved the writing. And the corporate culture of firing is something I have never ("Tanks God!") been privy to.

Now: a dating story.

It went like this- I met a guy online, and we set up a date. I didn't actually want to go on said date, because the guy seemed like a dud, BUT he had a picture of himself with a painting and a picture of himself in the role of a volunteer Big Brother, so I decided not to judge. We obviously know where not following my gut instinct has taken me before, but OH WELL...

So anyhow, our phone conversation, when we finally connected, was such a dud that I rushed to set the date. He asked for a weekend date, so I gave him my happy hour Friday slot- it seemed like the right thing to do. Don't bank too much on him, don't give him a whole weekend night when I knew barely anything about him (except that he had stood in front of a painting in Dayton and that he passed some sort of volunteer screening test and children don't run screaming from him). I offered to let him pick the place and his suggestion was "Ok! How's Cozymel?"

Um, Cozymel is fine. In the same way El Torito is fine. In the same way ChiChis is fine. In the same way TGIFriday's is fine. As in, it's fine if you're 16, not so much if you're 40. Which he was. And we'll find out why he was 40 and single after the jump...

So anyhow, I show up for the date and to my surprise he's better looking than his pictures. Dude was apparently not photogenic and/or he had posted pictures from 10 years ago and had aged better. He looked good. The kind of all-American good where the waitress leaned in a lot when talking to him.

We started talking and while we had a lot to talk about, we had zero chemistry. We got along, but there was none of the playful banter one might hope for on a date. To be honest, at points I was afraid to make jokes, worried they might go a little over his head. He was a successful businessman and was obviously a sharp guy. I gasped audibly when he said he was a Republican, but was distracted by the fact that this conversation came up in the context of him revealing he'd been at the last Madonna concert. (Come on, people, you know my weaknesses).

Anyhow, it was going FINE. First dates are awkward, we all know that. But I knew things were going ok, because he had already mentioned that we should go downtown for our next date, etc etc. So I just went with it, figuring that there was enough interesting material there that I should stay open to date 2. Plus he had a nice smile, and I'm a sucker for a smile.

He asked a lot of questions, so I would answer. He asked about my background and what languages I spoke, so I told him. We found out we did the same MBA Marketing program. Then he asked me if I remember how tough the GMAT was. I'm not one to lie, so I told him "I don't know". He asked why and I confessed that I waived out of that requirement. He kept pressing - HOW did I waive out? I told him I was a lawyer.

At this point he sat back, and crossed his arms. I am not exaggerating, this was his actual physical reaction. And then he said -- in a voice that was none too approving -- "Well aren't YOU accomplished? A lawyer, an MBA, you speak 4 languages..." This was followed, in no short order, by him asking the waitress for the check.
Yikes. I felt like I was on a game show and I'd given the wrong answer! I even tried to backpedal and explain that I never tell people I'm a lawyer because I don't have that personality and people always assume this or that based on knowing it. But dude was checked OUT.

I received an email the next day. It read (AND I QUOTE)

"I'm glad I had the chance to meet you. While it was clear that you have many virtuous qualities, I am seeking intangibles that can only be assessed upon meeting in person... I wish you the best of luck with your search."

Seriously, he might as well have added "We will keep your resume on file..."

I was FIRED!

I wish I could say this was the first time I was dumped by someone who I wasn't dating, but sadly, it isn't. Maybe someone somewhere out there in cyberworld has insight into this phenomenon.

I wonder if he thought I'd tell people he's the owner of a prominent yoga studio in La Jolla and that I'd smear campaign him. But I'm not into smearing, lucky for him. Plus he didn't wrong me. I don't mind that we didn't click (and hellz yeah was I quick to reply that "I felt the same way!") BUT such a formal rejection note was a bit much for my taste. Presumptive, don't you think? I got pink slipped from a job I never applied for! The least they could have done was send George Clooney over to fire me, sheesh.

So here's the lesson: you can't judge a book by its cover, but you sure as hell can judge a guy by where he takes you on the first date! Buyer beware.

The Resume

We always use resumes to apply for jobs. Well, the other day I was whining to Jon via Twitter about hanging out before he left town for a trip, and I realized I sounded like a nag, so I followed it up with a comment about how "today, the role of Jon's needy girlfriend will be played by Lilly". Which was funny given that I'm not his girlfriend. I'm just a friend of the female persuasion who wanted to get in some hang out time (but seriously - Jon, if you're listening, call me when you get back...)

Since Jon does not have a naggy girlfriend, he suggested that I apply for this position formally, and submit a resume/application.

Which of course led us to consider what such an application would look like. What would a dating application, if it was a pen-and-paper thing, possibly consist of? If we put it into the typical resume format, it might go a little something like this. As a girl I'm gonna come from that side of things, but I'd love to hear how a guy would approach it. (Jon? Jon, are you out there? Call me Jon!)

-------

Objective: Well, here's what, just like in a real resume, you'd load it up with what you know they want to hear. These I'm sure would range from the truthful to the blatantly false.

"Looking to find someone to have fun with and take care of."

"To create a relationship that other people will envy."

"To find the person who will compliment me the most on a daily basis."

I'm not sure how the golddiggers would spin this (can the gold diggers even spell?).


Romantic Education: I would not recommend that ladies tell the truth here. No one wants to hear about how many Lifetime movies you've watched. Romantic Comedies are not the school of education a guy wants you graduating from, and we all went there for undergrad. In general, romantic comedies and television suggest that men are always properly groomed, have witty conversation, and are motivated to date. They essentially set up a domino chain of expectations, and guys know this. US Weekly is bad news too. This is one job where work experience is more important than pedigree -- pull a Bill Gates and move on to the Employment section. Skip education and move to the real world.

Current Employment: If you are currently "employed" as a girlfriend, you probably shouldn't be applying.
Memo to Tiger, who apparently faxed his resume all over town.

Previous Work Experience: Here, your goal is to list each previous relationship, duration, skills learned, and of course the "Reason for Leaving". No one wants to see that you're a job-hopper, you know? If I had my way, you'd be able to take some space to critique the job (wish that was true of the run-of-the-mill resume too).

Sample from the Resume of Jenny A.
"Bradley P. 1998-August 2005
Reason for Leaving: Relationship intercepted by maneater.

Samples from resume of me

"Mr. Y June 2002- Sept 2002
Reason for Leaving: Subtly Fired.
Rebuttal: I learned the valuable lesson of not dating someone who refers to himself in the third person...
and using his nickname."

"Mr. X November 2 2004- November 11 2004
Reason for Leaving: On second date, the other individual confessed previously owning an ear collection
(put together and preserved by himself), ie. I resigned. (true story)"

This section would really give a person perspective on where you're coming from, any habits you seem to have (example: just heard about a woman whose fifth engagement broke off. future daters might want to see the previous work history on that one)

Skills: Get your minds out of the gutter! This ain't that kind of party. Skills could include "ability to entertain myself on football Sundays"; "great interest in cooking for poker night then making myself scarce"; "forgiveness"; "learned talent for grinning and bearing inlaws"

Interests: Just like a job, you're gonna tweak this to impress the audience. No one is writing "surfing porn" on their resumes, now are they? But they're doing it, 20/20 says so! So your interests can be charming things like "learning new meatloaf recipes!" "finding new sports teams to root for!" (note the exclamation points- they exhibit enthusiasm)

References: This is a tough one- while girls wouldn't mind a girl friend or two vouching for a new guy, the idea of a girl having references is just shady. References might be avoided unless you have a friend in common.

Of course, as with any application process, the resume would best be accompanied by a flowery cover letter explaining why the candidate feels they are a good match for the other party. It would also, for those of us who are complete snobs, help us weed out the people who simply can't write.

And resumes leave a written record of the person. Resumes that are passed over by one party might be passed around or saved for future reference. You know, on a lonely weekend, you could just go through your file and ask if they're still interested in the position.

The more I think about it, instituting a resume application procedure could really revolutionalize dating. For one thing, as soon as a fight broke out, one party could pull out the resume and point out any misrepresentations. "You said you were a world traveler. An annual ski trip to Canada does NOT make you a world traveler!"

Ah, love.

Moon. Black. Dating: A Conversation in Threes.

There's a lot of material to cover, mostly because my mind is racing (thank you Stumptown coffee!)

1. New Moon. I feel like we just need to get it out of the way. I saw it despite the fact that I didn't read the book; Twilight was more than enough for me, thank you. It was a great example of a book I would have rolled my eyes and thrown on the floor and never in a ZILLION years accepted as a submission, and yet it's been published to the accolades of pubescent teens worldwide.

I feel like I need to mention that I didn't pay for the movie, like that somehow makes it
better. I should also add in that it was pouring out, and my credit card had already taken quite a beating. We were at an outdoor mall, so this was the only option. Kinda.

Anyhow, the first 20 minutes were dreadful. I never saw the first movie so I got worried. Like "Is there a book in my car I can go read instead?" kinda worried. Jacob's hair was a major concern, mostly because it looked like mine for the duration of junior high. But then it picked up. Once I got past any bad acting and questionable special effects, I was able to enjoy the movie. And by the movie, I mean Taylor Lautner's abs, which deserved their own credit. When he took his shirt off I might have said "God Bless America!"... out loud.

Bonus round: found this parody online.

2. Black Friday. So I've decided that doing the whole Black Friday shopping thing is a learned behavior. Because my parents never did it, neither did I. So I decided at the ripe old age of 32 to give it a whirl. A friend was driving out to the Cabazon outlets in Palm Springs to do midnight shopping on Thanksgiving, and I invited myself. I liked to think of it as a sociological undertaking. I was the Jane Goodall of Shopaholics. But I wasn't totally, because Jane Goodall would have worn a button down and khakis and I wore jeans and 4" platforms just in case there were dresses I wanted to try on. I might have also worn a camasol for easy trying-on of clothing minus dressing room (my friend: "We have to beat my fellow Koreans! No dressing rooms!") I saw things I had only heard about- whether it was the 5 hour line for Gucci or the fact that there wasn't a parking space to be had at midnight (we parked in someone's lot, which turned out to not really be their lot, as noted by the "tow" sign on our window in the morning).

The sad part is I didn't even score crazy finds, but I did get fingerless gloves and a pair of cheap looking Ugg knockoff cheetah print boots. What else could a girl want?

3. New Rules of Dating. The more I date, the more I have to add to my mental list. For example, new rule: sharing is caring, but it can also be trouble. On a recent date, I told him the story of the ear collector. It was an icebreaker! It was a funny story to tell (re-enact). But then when we got around to the conversation about planning a second date, he brought up a good point: "You gave the ear collector a second date, so if I didn't get one, that would just be sad."

Checkmate!

The good news is this guy seems nice and isn't quite the freakfest that "Jason Ears" (as he's saved in my phone) was. Also, to my defense, I didn't know the guy was a reformed "ear collector" until date two. It's not like he told me on date one and I was like "ooh, tell me more! next week! meet me at 7!"

But I think we've all learned a little lesson about sharing.

Microsoft Love.0

Just when I thought I'd seen it all, last week shot me a curveball. So here it is: I was dumped by a guy... who I wasn't dating.

I know, not quite what I expected either. Long story short, as soon as this guy and I were matched online, he gave me the full court press. His initial email was one line, which of course did nothing for this literary girl. But then I decided, hey, not everyone is a big writer, and maybe he'll be interesting on the phone. Judge not, etc etc. (we all know where this has gotten me before.)

So we emailed, then he added me on facebook, which I thought was weird (and did against my own good judgment, a mistake I won't be repeating).

Then he started with the calling/texting. I should mention here that somewhere in there he figured out my last name (which is how he added me on FB) which I found eerie but figured if you google "awesome persian girl san diego" I must come up.

Now, at the time this all felt very sweet. He wished me well with my sister's wedding, asked how it was after, and called when he said he would. He had a great phone voice. He had interesting things to say, and was interested in what *I* had to say. I tried to suppress the "too good to be true" feeling (also known as my "gut instinct").

We started talking on the phone and had things to talk about for hours. We had grown up more similarly than I could imagine, and we had relatively serious talks about growing up bicultural. Not the usual "get to know you" fare, but I was up for it.

Anyhow, this went on for about three weeks I'd guess. Because I was so busy with the wedding meeting up hadn't been set up yet. So one night we had one of our long conversations and then, for a few days- radio silence. And then I got the Dear John letter. It said that he had decided to see someone he met before me "exclusively" and that he thought I seemed like a really fun girl and hoped we could stay friends.

He obviously misread the dating cliche handbook. "Just friends" is for people who KNOW each other.

I want to say this is weird, but it's just another day in the life, people. The funniest part is that I was telling the story to a friend and said "I just got dumped by a guy I wasn't dating... for the second time..."

I know you want to hear about the first time.

So the first time was during law school. I had a friend in class and it evolved into dating. I don't really remember the details, the random details I do remember involve a sloppy law school night out, him using the word "esoteric" on his birthday gift to me (a book! the first guy who got it!!!) and me having to look it up, and him writing me an absurdly inappropriate (and completely uncharacteristic) email way after we broke up... that I unwittingly opened while sitting at the family computer with my sister and brother. Good times all around.

Anyhow, so this guy and I had dated but it just wasn't going anywhere. He was getting attention from a younger girl at school and came to me and said "My stock is going up!" and I said "Cool! I"m selling."

Apparently he didn't realize I was serious. I got over him via flirtations with an old friend and then later a hot LA musician. So I was happily moving forward when (isn't that always how it is) I heard from Mr X again when he asked me to dinner. Interesting move on his part; I was intrigued so I said yes. I mean, after all, we were now "just friends" (cliche is appropriate here, as we had actually, um, met in person). We went to a sleazy local Chinese restaurant and he ate while I drank tea and waited to hear what was going on.

Him (slurping soup): "I don't know how to (SLURP) say this (SLURP). I think you're great but (SHIT-EATING-GRIN)... I think we should see other people."

Me: (SILENCE)

Him: I feel REALLY bad about this! I mean, really bad. Look at you, you look so upset...

Me: (LAUGHING) Um. No, that's not it. I, um.... were we still dating?

CLOSE SCENE

I really like to think that some sort of phoenix might emerge from the ashes of these little episodes in my life. And I came up with it today.

I'm going to invent Microsoft Love-point-O.

When we send an email, you get a warning if what you're sending has no subject line, or if you've misspelled something. I think we need the emotional equivalent.

"Are you sure you want to send this message? It grossly misinterprets the relationship you have with this person. YES/NO"

"Are you sure you want to send this message? It is generally not socially appropriate to dump someone you aren't dating. YES/NO"


Bill Gates, you know what to Google if you want to find me.

Kinda Like a Blind Conga Line

Somehow it has entirely escaped me, the most obvious rule of single living. That is: she who takes dating advice from her single girlfriends is exemplifying "blind leading the blind". Lately I'm realizing that I need to rustle up the advice I take from my MARRIED girlfriends. Or at least those who have boyfriends or, in many cases, the 3+ date sequence. My terminal daters, while lovely human beings, may *not* be optimal for doling out advice. I mean, you ask Paula Deen for her recipes, not Kate Bosworth, right?

Married friends feel they become irrelevant after they nuptualize-themselves away from Saturday nights spent getting all dressed up for nothing. They listen to our dating stories and feel like they don't have a full grasp of what we're going through (we=single people, because yes, I speak for them ALL). But you do remember. We just forget to ask you!

We usually just ask each other. Part of it is that sometimes it feels like if you talk with a single friend, you both learn from it. It's one of those rare conversations where it's about you but the other person feels like they get something out of it, more than just waiting for their turn to talk. Everyone can learn!

But problems exist with the current state of affairs. One such problem that needs to be highlighted (and I may even be guilty of?) is the Membership Obstacle. Which is: you kinda need a quorum in order for being single to still be cool. If everyone is coupled off except you, then you become the creepy aunt-uncle. You become the third (or thirteenth) wheel. So while you want your friends to be happy, you don't want them to be TOO happy, ie. married/dating/disappeared. Or you want *just enough* of them to be happily paired off that you still have a pool of people to choose from when making your plans for this weekend. So while we all do our best to avoid being selfish, the undercurrent of mixed motives is there.

Secondly, when the dating banter begins, we quickly forget that our single friend has his/her own set of criteria. It's probably part of why he or she is still single- they have the laundry list and hasn't found the guy who fits it all. And when she gives you advice, she is probably superimposing HER lengthy list on YOUR lengthy list. So now instead of me looking for just a guy who is "Teva-averse", I need to look for a guy who is "Teva-averse" (for me) AS WELL AS "no prominent forehead veins". Veins might be fine for me but my friend will have a bias upon finding out my beloved sports them. Just like if she brings her Mr. Perfect in front of me and he's rocking socks with Tevas, I'm going to give her advice based on the fact that I'm a mandal (man-sandal)-hater, even though she didn't ask. We operate from the mindset we're in.

Likewise, we might approve of funky behaviors just because we do them too and by ratifying another person doing it, we are therefore more normal than ever. I'd insert an example here, but it would be too self-incriminating.

Those are just a few of the problem points with our current single-conferencing behavior. I'm sure there are many more I'm not even aware of because I'm so freakin entrenched in them.

When you take a step back, you suddenly realize that singles advising each other is a truly weird phenomenon. In no other world would a rookie ask another rookie. It's the same reason athletes are coached by guys with championship rings and not some beer-bellied guy in his armchair with Cheetos breath. Everyone has an opinion, sure, but you gotta be smart about whose you take.

I think this really brings it back to my new Sex and the City Theorem. If the girls didn't brunch and dissect things every single weekend, if they didn't call each other after every hookup, date, or night out, would things have been different? Would Miranda give a guy the time of day if Carrie wasn't there to roll her eyes to? Would they possibly have dated more if they spent a LITTLE less time having a lunch of estrogen with a side salad?

Guys always say that women are hard to approach in groups at the bar. And now I'm wondering if this is part of it. Maybe by talking amongst ourselves we end up focusing on the wrong things. And more to the point, maybe we make ourselves "exponentially single" by hanging out in flocks.

I'm still working out my thoughts on this (and awaiting Jon's), but I have to admit: Lately, when I need some guy advice or just a dating pep talk, I find myself dialing the houses with kids running around in the background a little more often. And if the mom isn't home, the kid probably knows more than me anyhow, so let's chat.

Matchmaker Matchmaker, Make Me a Match

Ok, so my latest obsession is the Millionaire Matchmaker. When I first turned it on, I have to confess, I did so for the obnoxious title. But now all I can talk about is Patti. As in, if you heard me talking, you'd think she was a personal friend. While I can tell you all about this third-generation matchmaker with a 99% success rate, I actually don't know her. But I feel like I do, in a creepy fan way.

Every week Susie and I swap commentary on the episodes "Oh. My. God. you have to see what the Chicago guy does to his date!" and so on. When we're together we imitate the client's accents and generally ridicule everyone on the show. Except Patti. NO one ridicules Patti, not on my watch!

The entertainment includes but is not limited to:

1) being mesmerized by her bangs. I almost cut myself some (I wish I was kidding) but my sister and Michael cautioned me.

2) being mesmerized by the fact that everyone on the show has a spray tan. To the point that one guy tried to come to an event without one, and she CALLED HER PERSONAL SPRAY TAN girl to come with her little wheelie case and make it happen.

3) watching some guy make his butler feed him grapes. of course this guy was the *one* Persian on the show. of course.

4) watching a guy refer to himself in the third person in the most obnoxious Chicago accent ever. "it's JIMMY D time!!!" "Jimmy loves Polish girls" etc.

5) watching her assistant quietly take suggestions and apply them to her own life. Chelsea has gotten way better looking over the season.

6) watching a woman who looked like she had been microwaved (she was an import from Minnesota) tell Patti she needed a makeover. YIKES!

7) watching a guy pick twins as his date as if they counted, together, as ONE date. and having the girls say they're half Indian and half Persian. knowing it was NOT their Persian side that allowed them to go on a tv dating show. Laughing thinking of how their parents will kick their asses when they find out.

and that's just a sampling, folks. It's an hour a week of Patti calling people out on poor manners, bad behavior, and gross appearances.

The good news for the bookworms out there was that Patti wrote a book. My sister emailed me immediately about it, OBVIOUSLY. So I ordered it and 2 nights later it was here. The same night I was 150 pages into her wisdom. She is just as freakin funny in the book as she is on tv. I didn't learn much more than I would have thought before, although there were new tips like "men like long, straight hair" and "text him only 1 for every 4 times he texts you" to ponder. She constantly reiterates that "women are jewels to be adored", which I can appreciate when I'm not rolling my eyes about it.

For like a half-second I was tempted to go to one of her "casting calls", but then my bank account called and said "Um, you aren't hiring a photographer to do Glamour Shots.... Besides, Patti won't accept the mall variety of Glamour Shots. Everyone knows that."

Then my Pride clicked in on the other line and said "Um, I don't think so."

This same self also reminded me that I don't do cattle call meatmarketing (see also: my accidental Bachelor audition).

So now I have a reason to become a Millionairess! I'm very excited about my new plan. I'm going to write Patti stat and let her know to save some room.

Finally, someone to do the dirty work for me.

"We're not cynical, we're just experienced."

Jon beat me to it and has revealed to the world (ie. his reading public) my new proclamation: an immediate cease on the acquisition of new guy friends. Lilly Code 44.2201 states that "A single woman over the age of 31 will proceed forth with romantic dating, and continue to pay great attention to current friendships. However, under no circumstances will she seek out or allocate more than a modicum of time to new platonic male associates unless an exception applies, such as professional necessity."

The fact is, I am blessed. I have more guy friends than I can count. I have guy friends who are handsome, funny, caring, thoughtful, brilliant, artsy, sporty, you name it. I have a rainbow of wonderful friends. And because of this, for a long time I didn't notice that I, well, wasn't dating. It began back in high school and has followed me until now. A friend pointed out a few months ago that it's really not typical for a girl to have so many guy friends (unless she's one of those "I don't have girlfriends" girls, who we don't trust farther than we can throw her).

As it turned out, I got so caught up in always having a guy around for company that I didn't realize I didn't have exclusive rights to any of them. In the time I was accumulating charming guy friends, everyone else on the planet my age was pairing off (Source: Facebook.com). I can't be the first one this is happening to in history. I wonder if at the end of the ark's line there was a lone animal (perhaps a Lillymonster) galloping forward as they lifted the bridge and saying "Wait, Noah, I didn't get the memo! Wait for meeeeeee!"

Then more recently my girlfriends, in an impromptu session of self-analysis (perfectly timed with the looming of V-day), constructively pointed out that I have a habit of immediately boxing men into the "friend" category. I plead guilty as charged on this one. It just seems to easy to do- nice guy, not sure how I feel or if it has longer-term potential --> friend! And then we can have fun without any of the strings or drama or whatever. It's very rare actually that I *don't* put a guy in this category. My friends have also pointed out that these completely platonic guy friends can sometimes hover protectively, thereby affecting the potential advances of other guys when we're out.

The inspiration: I have lived much of my life (say, oh, 30 years) thinking that you could make the jump (I accidentally typed "hump". yikes) from friendship to relationship later on down the line. You know, get to know him while everyone's defenses were down, and then he'd wake up and realize he loved me and I wouldn't have to go through the awkward "what to wear on the date" thing that I detest.

Perhaps Miranda says it best for us (she's not a tv character, in my sad little mind, she's a friend), "I'm not sexy. Smart, yes, cute, sometimes. But sexy is what i try to get them to see me as after i win them over with my personality!"

But the clock is a-ticking. Not even the biological clock, just the "if I respond "Lilly+0" to another wedding invitation, I will scream" clock. I had to do something.

Please understand, I've had to take preventative measures in part because the species guyus friendus has evolved. Back in the day (example: high school), you had guy friends who you bummed around with after school. You had some beers on the weekend, you went to see a show, you hung out at home and listened to music. A guy was a guy was a guy. You knew what to expect.

Now the lines are blurrier. Just like a cracker jack box, when I open a friendship file with a new guy friend, I don't know what to expect. In multiple cases I'm finding that my guy friends have mutated from the kind where you knew what to expect. Certainly they offer more in some ways, but they also require more TLC than the most sensitive of ferns. They bruise when their calls go unreturned (as in, within the hour), they want to hang out all the time, they text obsessively while they know you're doing something important, and want an explanation when you can't hang out. I have actually had to have a "status of the friendship" talk with a guy friend. I don't initiate those talks when I'm dating; why are we having one now???

Fortunately for me, these guys are not blog readers, so don't think me callous, dear reader. Just reflective.

So because sometimes Guy Friend 2.0 has the potential to require 3x as much attention as a female friend, and because many of my female friends are pairing off and I need to replenish said girlfriend roster (guy friends can be game for most anything, but you always need a battalion of ladies for chocolate runs, mani/pedi afternoons, and the recession-proof shopping spree, no?) -- because of these factors, I have to build a wall at the border, and I don't know how we're handling visas just yet.

Fortunately for lazy me, Jon really summed it up, this new dictum of mine. Basically, if a guy was my friend before January 1, 2009, he will continue to be such, happily for me. If I meet a new guy, he either has to enter the dating line, or we're just friendly acquaintances. Thanks to that wonderful gene of obliviousness that so many of them carry (not you, Jon, not you), they'll never be any the wiser to the new system. Let's just keep this between us, shall we?

Thanks for the Memories

This morning I woke up with a raging hangover. I wish I could tell you it was because I'd done my age's worth of shots, danced on the bar last night, etc., but I actually had a nice and mellow night out with friends. Apparently my body just rejects light to moderate amounts of alcohol. Or maybe it was rejecting my bad attitude about V-Day, who knows.

Anyhow, the morning began (after what amounted to maybe 3 hours of actual/comforting sleep) with some texting with my friends. One of them suggested that I drink Pedialyte in order to feel better. She said "it's the one thing I learned from my ex. ha" Which got me to thinking- what takeaways have *I* gotten?

I'm ever the fan of education. I need to constantly read or be watching something insightful or I get bored. I often end relationships because I'm bored... I wonder if there's a correlation? I've never sat and tried to compile the lessons I've learned from the boys I've been romantically linked with, adored, or otherwise dined with. (I'll exclude "fun facts" or trivia; for example, I won't include facts such as "Miller Lite is a 4x ribbon winner") Without naming names, I will go ahead and try to list them here:

1. how to grind coffee. first "boyfriend". he loved coffee and made fun of my coffee maker, thereby replacing it and getting me a coffee grinder to go with it. i wish i could say this was a huge gesture, but given the track of our relationship, it was more about accommodating his need for caffeine than insight into my own.

2. how to put someone in a headlock

3. how to break someone's arm (in the interest of fairness, #2/3 came from a Mixed Martial Arts fighter. a beefy guy, to be sure, but extremely smart and i've always been a sucker for the brains. i wish he'd taught me more about his legal specialty or something classy, but these days on the dating battlefield you take what you can get. that said, upon reflection, i do admit that this is slightly creepy. And perhaps foreshadows that I'd end up inadvertently go on a date with a self-professed reformed "ear collector".)

4. how to tie a tie. I love how women do this for men in the movies, and I felt inadequate not knowing myself, so a guy taught me and I got to do it maybe once or twice, thereby checking off one of my "must have" lady skills.

5. how to swing a golf club

Oh my God this is so depressing. Do men really have nothing to teach me? Wait, don't answer that.

Sexless in the City.

Perhaps there is no female bonding ritual greater than watching Sex and the City with one's girlfriends and bonding through ongoing commentary and categorization. By commentary I mean (as anyone who has watched this show knows) the points at which laughter occur, at which people exclaim "What a JERK!", or mumble an "Oh my God...". You can tell a lot about a friend from these gasps and murmurs.

And categorization is of course the art of figuring out which of your friends is most like which character. This sport became formalized in a Facebook quiz, which I took, only to be told I"m a Miranda. My friends say I'm a Carrie, and hopefully after I finish my obsessive watching of the show, I will know my true identity.

For someone who loves pop culture as much as I do, it's surprising that it took me until 2007 to begin watching the show at all, and TBS edits at that! I had seen a handful of episodes before seeing the movie, so it was a mystery to me why Carrie would marry Big after all. I've borrowed the series from a friend and am now dutifully watching from the beginning so I can understand it all, working backwards, as it were. After Season One, my question is more of "why does Big put up with her needy crap?", but I know the next five will show me the light.

What I love most about the show is its slice-of-life analysis of male-female relationships. I've realized this is something every woman does, with her friends, in her journal, on her blog, but it's another story to put it into a column as beautifully and as succinctly as Carrie does. (another New Years' Resolution: write as well as Carrie Bradshaw)

Today the topic of conversation amongst my email buddies regarded the issue of "hints". Someone omitted to bring up a topic I was waiting to hear about, and he knew I was waiting for said topic to come up. So I immediately sent a missive out to my Charlotte and my Miranda to ask their opinions. Was his lack of mentioning aforementioned topic a BIG HINT to me? Should I take it personally? How could he mention subject b without mentioning subject a?

The email replies came quickly (one wonders what the effect to the American economy's productivity would be if personal email servers were shut down for a day...) And they both said the same thing: men don't make hints, women do. Men don't do subtlety. And they aren't as obsessive about the nuances of conversation and interaction as we are.

The question is, how did this happen? How did women learn the art of the hint and guys avoid it? It's not a clear line between subtle people and unsubtle people; I have very forward female friends who can drop a great hint if they want to. Do we have different communication weapons in our artillery? If so, what are guys'?

I try to think of cases in which men I know have "dropped hints", but I can't think of a one. The more I think about it, the less grey area there seems to be in men's behavior. My guy friends have often told me that a guy either likes you or he doesn't. When I ask if it can be that simple, they affirm: "If he likes you, he will make it obvious and he will go for it. If he's not going for it, he doesn't want it." (author's note: see also, "He's Just Not That Into You").

I need the guys to weigh in on this. If a guy doesn't mention something, does it mean he's just not thinking about it at all? Or do men have the same avoidance tactics we do, and just do them differently? For example, when I've tried to set up a guy with a female friend, if he doesn't mention her again, is he just not focused on the issue or is he silently rejecting her? Do they hint at all? Is it a case-by-case thing?

The good news is that today I learned that maybe everything I read as a silent dis is not so. This is good for my ego. But the bad news is that it reaffirmed the existence of my personal "window of interest". But he can blog about that one :)

You're So Vain. I Bet You Think This Blog is About You.

Today! My first nomination! I didn't wait for anyone to vote him in; I knew they'd agree as soon as I cast my vote. He's in, and it's official.

Once upon a time, a friend told me about yet another guy who had recently broken her heart. I listened and supported and nodded and rolled my eyes at all the right places, but then it came to me just what the problem was. She was attracted to a very particular type of guy, and it's the type of guy that was the problem

She is drawn to Guys Who Are Victims of Their Own Good Looks.

We all know the type. That guy who has been told just one more time that they are cute. Whose mommies adore them just a little too much. Who don't even fake that they don't know how cute they are. Who don't even notice that I used a double negative right there because they were so busy reflecting on their own beauty. She would constantly date them -- she'd date guys who were former models, or current models, or actors. And it's not that every model/actor/performer is beautiful, but she'd find them. Or she could find the guy who worked at a restaurant in a very low-key job but had that aura. And what was the aura? Say it with me now...

I myself have never been attracted to the pretty boys. A guy who takes longer to get ready than me will be rightfully ridiculed. I like modesty in a guy. I mean, don't get me wrong, I like a cute guy as much as the next girl, but vanity is a no-no with me, especially when that vanity has a darker side. These are guys who use their beauty to seduce women, usually multiples at a time, but after a brief period of success with this, women are onto them. We usually proceed to mock and ridicule them. We know they're hot and we will speak of it, but they have also tainted themselves through their greedy sluttery.

Today I finally came to terms with the fact that I may have dated a candidate. There, I said it. I too have dated a Guy Who's A Victim of His Own Good Looks. A guy who thought his good looks would make up for some shady behavior, but oh no, I'm onto you! Remember: I'm not just a member, I'm the club president.

I'm pretty excited about this. I feel like now when I accuse my friends of dating guys in this sub-species I will have more authority, more street cred if you will. This appears to be reason to rejoice (or feels like it at 1:40 a.m.) Now that I have a PERSONAL investment in the Hall of Fame, I'm taking my role seriously, monitoring for membership and trying to raise public awareness of this social disease. Feel free to help me compile additional qualifications for nomination. I think my favorite clue is that they believe their prettiness makes them have game. "But all they have is pretty." (rubber bracelets with this key phrase are on the way and will retail for $3 each, to be applied to consolatory drinks for Women Who Are Victims Of Guys Who Are Victims Of Their Own Good Looks...)

On another note, one of my friends recently suggested something that might border on brilliant (and were this the academic battlefield I wish discussions of dating etiquette would be b/c I think we could use some scholars, she would be invited to lecture on her revolutionary theory). She suggests that girls should date guys "just above the threshhold of acceptable attractiveness" for us. Like figure out what's a notch above "nope, couldn't kiss him" and stick with that. Not hot. Not really cute. But just there. Just enough to be happy you're with him, but not enough to cause anyone trouble. I mean, think about it!

I haven't quite figured out what the voting procedure will be for The Guys Who Are Victims of Their Own Good Looks, but I'm thinking it involves a complimentary chest or eyebrow wax. Gentlemen, get your mirrors.

So Are We, Like, On a Date?: A Scientific Study of the D Factor

I'm calling upon my friends everywhere to help me with this simple question. It's a short answer essay:

How do you define a date?

Some would say that the fact that I'm asking means I don't know/haven't been on one, whatever. Okay, stop stoning the single girl! I'm just WONDERING. It came up because another friend suggested that when I had hung out at the zoo last summer with a guy friend, that would be construed as a date. [I should add that this individual denied the aformentioned assertion upon further cross-examination this evening, claiming it was a joke.]

So how do you define a date? Like, what if one person thinks it's a date and the other person doesn't? I've definitely had this one. I've had to do the dive-roll out of the car for sure, to avoid any "unwanted tensions". Or, well, if there was going to be tension, you bet your sweet ass I wasn't going to stick around to enjoy it. When I've been interested in a guy and not felt that it was reciprocated (a certain field trip to watch a film for our French class comes to mind. O Unrequited Love. SIGH), I did NOT assert, verbally or mentally, to myself or publicly, that it had been a date. I feel like there's some mutuality involved.

So do you have to know at the time? Or can you look back and be like "Hmmmmm. I guess we WERE on a date!" On the flipside, can you go back after an okay date and be like "Nuh uh, I did NOT date him!" based on things besides the actual date interaction? [Case study: I had to backtrack after having a nice dinner with a guy a high school friend set me up with, who quickly revealed himself to be The Fastest Silent-But-Deadly Farter In the East. He trapped me in the Horror aisle at Blockbuster! Nice guy, decent conversation, good taste in music, detrimental genetics. I just could NOT say that I'd dated him, not even once. I Un-Dated him.]

Is there a time length? Is 45 minutes a date? If a group of 3 or more of your friends concur that it was a date but you don't, does that make it a date and just make you a super-denier? Is there a financial responsibility factor- like if someone invites and pays, have they taken you on a date? And then would your choices only be to have enjoyed the date or not so much, but either way it was a date? Because I can definitely be accused of exclaiming to a girlfriend that "Ohmygosh, dude, he PAID! That is SO a date!", which suggests that this may be subconsciously how I think. It also suggests that I'm not as eloquent as I'd like to be ;)

Do certain environments automatically mean that this event has become a date? Beaches, fancy restaurants? The Eiffel Tower? A blanket under the stars? Do other environments work against the date factor? Like if you guys go to, I dunno, CostCo or the old people's home together, would that then NOT be a date just by virtue of the lack of social precedents?

I'd like to take this moment offer an Amen to Jon's email today that "two single people hanging out does not constitute a date."

Then he posed a question back to me that I've been struggling with. His question was, Is prom really a date? Oh shit. He was basically saying it's an Auto-Date. Where DO auto-dates fit in? Is a blind date an auto date, and thus not REALLY a date, but more of a screening interview? If it's not a date... and if you strip me of my high school dances and my sorority events... the violent decrease in the number of 'dates' I've been on would be devastating if it weren't so damn funny.

So I'm putting it out there and I'd love to hear your thoughts, reflections, appropriately quoted song lyrics, etc. Formulas would be great (engineers, start your calculators).

If you're reading this and THINK we may have been on a date together, um, let me know ;)