Friday, September 28, 2007

Damaged is good

By the time we reach our mid-20s it’s easy to consider each and every one of us damaged goods in some capacity.

What if our new suitor discovers our past?
Truly knows who we were...
before we became half of the us we now find ourselves in???

From sharing numbers to discussing why we’re so bitter...
the past still exists
behind that door we’d rather keep closed.

Slammed shut.
Bring on the bolts.

But that door is both an exit
and an entrance.

Proof that...
We've seen.
We've experienced.
We've felt.

And I'll always believe that it's better to feel something...

(however disappointing it may be)

than nothing at all.

Because we're still good.

Despite all that damage.

How good are damaged goods?

I'm a dented can of cream corn.

I grew up poorer than mayonnaise. I once told my bff that wearing my winter parka inside my home (which ranked second to Alaska in the 1999 Cold Contest) was part of an innovative diet sworn effective by Katie Holmes herself.

I grew up in a family with more dysfunction than cloned beef. What do you say to a dad whose three-month crack-smoking "phase" sent your college tuition fund up in smoke? (Thankfully, he is no longer purchasing rocks with my future.)

I grew up pretending to belong in a different aisle. I was Susie, the girl with the backyard pool, two Labs (Coco and Muffin) and a dad who coaches JV soccer.

Some (like the author of "Stop the Cycle of Crazy Chicks") would say that misshaped tin is a sure way to get soiled underwear and a second viewing of your lunch.

I say, Why not save 10 percent off your grocery bill? Why buy the silver spoon (which requires polishing, might I add), when you can get the damaged can at a discount and slurp its creamy, delicious insides?

What's your view on damaged goods?

Thursday, September 27, 2007

From Point A to Man C.

Am I Crazy in Love or Crazy for Loving Him?

At the catastrophic collapse of J. and I, I presented this LOVE conundrum to a professional trained to doodle Sponge Bob lookalikes while I recount the most horrific events of my life... including the time my brother made me eat pooh (which I'm now seeking shock therapy for).

Her conclusion: You tell me. (QUE?????)

That's when I thanked her for the stupindous counsel, which, no doubt, would help me develop a cure for the exploding toad phenomenon (Not A Lie). Then I walked out the door and dialed my insurance company to make sure this session was free. It was (phew). But the next one would cost me my dignity, the rep. said.

I felt defeated. I wasn't any closer to question A) Would I ever get over him? and question B) If I did, would I continue to attract losers like J. causing back-t0-back sessions with Dr. No Answers.

What I couldn't see then was C) You'll soon learn the significance of J. which will lead you to C. (the love, not the letter, of your life) and you can stop trying to fit your life's questions into Alphabetic symbols (because you're going to run out and have to use AA or B1, which the highway department does and it annoys the coleslaw out of me.)

Before you start calling me a Dr. No Answers WannaBe, try to remember this: There is hope at the end of the English language.

Chrissie Potter

Where do you go with your broken heart in tow What do you do with the left over you and how do you know when to let go where does the good go where does the good go look me in the eye and tell me you dont find me attractive look me in the heart and tell me you wont go look me in the eye and promise no love is like our love look me in the heart and unbreak broken it wont happen
-"Where does the good go" by Tegan and Sara

Saturday night, in the company of couples and everything in-beTWEENER
I brought up an EX’s name.


To which I replied,
“You actually expect ME to let it go???”

This is not going to happen.
One might as well expect me to suddenly turn into a wizard…

Well if I'm "Chrissie Potter," then my wand is broken.
Seriously, significantly broken.

But maybe if it wasn't...
Then all those exes and tweeners
and creeps and “nice guys -in-disguise”
would be nothing more than little puffs of smoke...

rather than the fog of my past that continually creeps in.

And SO! Today's topic:
Letting go.
How do YOU do it?

With or without the wand of course;)

Wednesday, September 26, 2007


WARNING: This blog is hazardous to the health of people suffering from HIDs, Humor Impairment Disorder.

How do you know if that's you?

If you took anything that has been written in the Odd Couple realm too seriously -- you have HIDs. I have a PH.D. in Learning to Laugh Science from Uptight University, so obviously I am qualified to diagnosis.

If you posted any comments with the words "spoiled," "brat," or cursed with characters such as "@" "#" or "&" -- you have HIDs. It says it right here in my "People Who Overreact" handbook.

If you continue to read this blog even tho you hate it -- you have an extreme case of HIDs (And we thank you for the Web page views. Please keep on reading, because how else will we keep statistics on the number of HIDs cases in the mid-Hud. Valley?)

There is no cure for HIDs, but before you get those tissues out, there's NEWS! The Odd Couple has received a grant from the New York State Association of Angry Bloggers, and we will be hosting "How to Dislodge Objects From Posterior Places" demos next week. Don't worry. We'll post a Web video for those who wish to remain (and have posted as) anonymous. Get started on the path of recovery here!

As to the angry e-mail I received after I had written about parking in fire lanes at grocery stores in a previous column, THAT'S JUST RIDICULOUS SIR. I can assure you, I only park in the fire lanes when all the handicap spots are taken!

I bet you think this blog is about you…

Don’t you?

Every man I’ve “dated” since this blog began has been convinced that nearly each and every entry was about him.

If I wrote about love unrequited, he assumed I loved him.
If I wrote about tweeners, I or he was specifically being tweened at that time.
If I wrote about cake eaters, and nice guys, and fruit loops it all somehow went back to
that guy who was in my life.

But the truth is this.

However "un-dateable"this blog may make me…
The entries found within it are the product of time and circumstance.
The product of a whole life: past, present, and future…
all before or after him.

Just because you’ve tweened me, doesn’t mean I haven’t been tweened before.
And just because you’re Peter Pan, that doesn’t mean you live all alone in Never Never Land.

These entries are universal in their appeal for one main reason...
They are the product of relationships in general.

Not necessarily all of MY interactions.

So the next time you assume that I’m staking out your work place, or outing your dirty laundry in public, realize this:

YOU are NOT the only person in my life.
YOU are not my muse.

But my oh my…
You’re so vain.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

It’s all an EXCUSE.

There aren’t any REAL reasons that there isn’t a RING on your finger...

He doesn’t want to marry you.


And I’m not talking about the guy you’ve known for 2 months… or even 2 years.

I’m talking about the eternal bachelor.
The Peter Pan… if you will.

Because if you’re without the “ring” then he’s still envisioning a future…
Without you.

Let's face it, if we have what we want…
we hold on to it.

“When you’re 30”
“When you graduate”
“When you’re done with school.”
“When you get tested.”

None of these future dates promise that he'll still be there.

So what I want to know is...
when are YOU are going to wise up…
And realize that the only thing his EXCUSES prove is that he should be your EX boyfriend…

Rather than your future EX HUSBAND
when _ _ _ _ hits Peter’s Pan.

The difference between "soon" and "sue-en"

Her word: Soon.
As in, I'm hoping he'll propose soon.
Definition: Within days, possibly months, but not longer than one year.

His word: Sue-en
As in, I'm going to ask you to marry me sue-en.
Definition: Vaguely relating to some sort of time measurement in some alternate world somewhere.

Monday, September 24, 2007

The "N" word of dating

Those who know C. know I truly landed myself a definition "nice guy." That's all I heard about him during the 1st year: "You're C.'s girlfriend? He's so nice!"

Nice was not something that I was accustomed to. The nicest before C. was the guy who showed up to my family's Christmas Eve party with a half-eaten apple pie and blood shot eyes.

So, I THOUGHT a guy who was 1st described as the N word would never also fall into the category as "hot" or "masculine" or "contains a backbone."

I expected for C. to put on ballet slippers and swoon me with his twinkle toes. I prayed that Barry Manilow wouldn't started signing from C.'s radio. I hoped with all my might he wouldn't comment on the shade of pink of my lip gloss.

He didn't! Not even close.

What did happen is I learned how to be loved by someone who deserved my love in return. And this Christmas, my family is expecting the full pie.

Meet a “NICE GUY!”

Chrissie’s recap of an actual nice guy!
I get a lot of grief for my “man-hating” ways.
I can’t say the words
nice and guy together without making little quotation marks with my fingers.

Yes. I’m bitter.

But there’s hope!

As that guy points out in The Secret, we get from people what we expect…
what we choose to give back…
it encourages, “the practice of joy and gratitude as a way of life.”

So in light of this
(and because of my hope for something nice in return)
I’m planning to illustrate my encounters
(however few and far between) with actual nice guys.

They do exist.
Sure, they aren’t dating me… but they are out there;)

Nice Guy #1 – The Cab Driver

ME: “Excuse me sir… can you take me to __________ street in Hyde Park for 13 bucks? That’s all we have left.”

CABBIE: “Let me check… Yep. You’re in luck, it’s exactly 12.50.”

ME: “But then I can’t tip you…”

CABBIE: “Don’t worry about that… just get in the car.

And so my friend and I threw ourselves in the van/cab and began ranting and raving at how appreciative we were… and how hungry.

FRIEND: “I wish we could afford McMac… I’m STARVING.”

(4th meal time: 3 a.m.)

ME: “Me toooooooooooooooooo!”

So we picked up a slew of Culinary girls on our way north and CABBIE had to sign all sorts of security papers in the security office. I offered to help him with the clipboard and even asked if I could be his “assistant” by riding shotgun.

He left us to our own devices while he went into the security office to finalize the “SAFE RIDE” paperwork and even locked the doors so we’d “be safe” too.

And upon his return, he proved to be a NICE GUY.

For with him... he brought
a pizza for us.
Courtesy of the Culinary’s very own kitchens.
Roasted red peppers, red onion, and mushroom.
Presented perfectly into our hungry hands.

Looking the gift-horse right in the mouth I said:


So the CABBIE went back in the security office and heated up our pizza…

But the real proof of a nice guy???

He didn’t even want a slice.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

My doodie brown TIPS for dating

I truly believe the only thing good about rules is that they can be ignored. So that's why I'm calling these TIPS!

Tip 1. LADIES, if you ever have to choose between true love and owning a dog, remember four legs will bring you more happiness than two.

Tip 2. If you've forgotten how to make yourself happy, you are screwed. Men in relationships need to be given the HOW TO manual. Otherwise, what you are left with is a THING that has been put together upside down, minus a few parts.

Tip 3. Don't be too eager for someone, anyone to love. From "Why Men Marry Bitches": You'd be ... turned off by a guy who brought two dozen roses to a first coffee date and told you he felt like the luckiest SOB on the planet in the first five minutes."

Sharing is caring -- add your OWN top 3 rul um tips!

Friday, September 21, 2007

My Golden Rules

When it comes to dating I can think of 3 very important rules to live by:

Rule #1: Don't lose yourself
It seems easy enough... but many fall victim to the dating zombie. They forget their friends, they forget their own interests, and they forget that they are a person too... even BEFORE they met him. If you suddenly love only him and all the things he loves, he's bound to get bored loving you... how much fun can talking about each other really be?

Rule #2: Don't date your friend's EX
An old rule... but my version has a different twist: Don't date your friend's EX for no reason. If you don't see it going anywhere worthwhile, then get out and maintain that friendship. But if it's something that may make you happy in the future, then go for it. My old BF and BFF got together 4 years ago and they're still going strong... people get over their initial anger (or at least I did;)

Rule #3: Don't listen to my advice
Who am I to make rules? I've only learned from my own experiences... and however entertaining they may be, they aren't things I'd recommend anyone else going through.

What are YOUR rules?
And do YOU agree with MINE?

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Serve me up a slice of happy

A person can eat all the cake in the world. But in the end, they are left with an inability to see if their socks match.

Scientists who studied sharing have come up with a better approach to securing a pleasurable, fulfilled life.

Why not cut the cake up into slices and let your friends and family pick their pieces first? You're given an incentive to divvy up the goods fairly and you're content with what's leftover.

Think about it. Do you really want to have to sit down in life because you're out of shape? I prefer to skip the whole way!

The Cake Eater

He wants what every man wants…
to have his cake and eat it too.

A best buddy when it suits him.
A bed buddy when that works.
And an understanding, open-minded cupcake willing to roll around in rainbow colored sprinkles regardless of the outcome simply because that's all she can get.

My advice is for the CAKE itself:


Because after the Cake Eater is finished with you...
The only thing left will be crumbs.

(And with an appetite like his, that won't be enough).

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Holidays I'D rather celebrate THAN SINGLES WEEK

Hmmm... is it just me... or do others think it's completely unnecessary to declare a whole week to people who enjoy their freedom every day of their lives?

Singles week is almost as unnecessary as these other high-ranking holidays:

National Pig Day
Peanut Butter Lover's Day
Old Stuff Day
I Want You To Be Happy Day
National Anthem Day
Holy Experiment Day - Yes it has a MySpace site
Multiple Personalities Day - When you do something crazy and it's OK
National Frozen Food Day
National Crown Roast Of Pork Day
Be Nasty Day
Panic Day
Festival Of Life In The Cracks Day
Worship of Tools Day
Alfred Hitchcock Day
National Potato Chip Day
Everything You Think Is Wrong Day
Everything You Do Is Right Day
Supreme Sacrifice Day
Proposal Day
Festival Of Extraterrestrial Abductions Day
National Goof-off Day
National "Joe" Day
Something On A Stick Day



“Singlehood is no longer the place where people mark time until they find The One (or The Next One). More and more, people are living their single lives fully, rather than trudging through a phase they regard as merely transitional.”

Apparently, we get an entire WEEK to celebrate our one-ness with ourselves and boast to everyone who is taken why it rocks to be single, this week and the next.
Here’s how I will be celebrating…

1. Wine. Red wine and an immaculate apartment all to myself make me very, very happy.

2. I plan to see all of my closest friends before the week is out… I spent Sunday with my mom, Monday with ex-roomie, and Tuesday with the BFF, I’ll have to squeeze the wing-men in there sometime too...

3. I plan to dance around my empty apartment in my skivvies and listen to loud music that no one else likes: The Magnetic Fields, Tegan and Sarah, Britney Spears. All the while without the fear that some S/O will pounce and ruin my me-time.

4. I WILL do something fabulous this weekend that involves live music, overly expensive martinis, and obscene amounts of flirting.

5. I WILL kiss someone I’ve yet to meet… it’s my singles-week-end mission. (How exciting is THAT;) ???

Send this eCard

So singles, comment and make all those taken jealous with your weekly plans;)

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

My mom cares, that's who....

But I'll tell you anyway...

When anyone asks how we met, they get the shortened, politically correct version. Below is both the half and the (full) story.

We were both "out" (at Mahoney's) (and both drunk) when we started talking (I made him show me his license because I thought he must have bribed the bouncer to let him in) (He was thinking "look at the rack on this girl") (I may have been showing some tasteful cleavage).

We talked the whole night (OK, maybe it was more like one song) and swapped phone numbers (only he didn't remember he gave me his business card because he was THAT drunk). I said I would call him (then we swapped more than digits). I left gracefully (my best friend pulled me out of there) and dreamed about him the whole night (Or at least I would have, if I hadn't passed out). The next morning, he woke up smiling (and wondering if I was even good looking). That afternoon, after leaving him a voice mail message I thought, he was nice (but I bet he doesn't call me).

And that, my friends, is our romantic first encounter.

Who cares how you met anyway?

“Yeah, but who wants to tell their kids they met ONLINE or in a BAR?”

What I want to know is...
if you stayed with this person long enough to have kids


That being said, there are only a few places/ways that I think should bring about SHAME when it comes to the story of how you met.

Feel free to say, “in the supermarket” if any of the following apply:

1. You met him at a family reunion. It doesn’t matter if he’s your 5th cousin through marriage, this should NEVER be brought up to your children, or anyone… ever.

2. You spent 3 months being intimate with him without knowing his last name. There is nothing romantic about “that time daddy introduced himself… in my bed.”

3. You met “at the clinic.” It’s nice to be safe and clean, but if your first encounter involved pamphlets about STDs and unwanted pregnancy, some might wonder what exactly you had in common.

So how did YOU meet your

Monday, September 17, 2007

Three's company camping

It was ALL a girl could ask for -- a weekend getaway with her man and her best friend. The tricky part here was figuring out who, if anyone, was the ODD MAN OUT.

I wondered whether a man could find a place among gossip, food recipes and beauty supply reviews. What would he have to contribute about Jenn's breakup and Liz's break out? At the same time, hadn't I earned at least an attempt after two and 1/2 years of "Not tonight baby, the Yankees are on", or 24-0 old man league hockey games, or "checkout that broad!" comments? How many "ear muffs" did one girl have to take before she needed her man to give up wing night for once?

With the roles reversed (finally an outing that wasn't a sausage FEST), the boyfriend became the invisible man. He melted into his chair, tuning us out and the Yankee/Red Sox game in. He hiked ahead of us on the trail, performing his "duty" as the "mule" w/ the backpack. He paddled us around in the canoe making less noise than the fish.

In the end, my man didn't exactly live up to my own talents as a "wing-woman" around his buddies. But, my best friend points out -- "At least he showed up."

I guess that'll do... for now.


I’ve been many things in my life,
but I’ve only recently turned into the “wing-woman.”

I’ve found myself transformed into “the girl who you can still talk about other women’s 'figures,' ” around.

Breast talk, and sex talk are “OKAY” in the company of Chrissie.

Except, maybe not.

Sure, I can mostly blame two men in particular for this phenomenon, but they have their own issues.

After all, one spent years courting me and never succeeded.
And the other spent minutes courting me and succeeded… if only for a minute.

Either way, I sometimes find myself in their company wishing I had another woman around.

My own WING-WOMAN to stare down all the tall, dark, and handsome with.

Because while their discussing THAT girl's chest
I just sit wondering what’s wrong with mine…
and contemplate why it’s all they have to talk about.

Friday, September 14, 2007

Yin and Yang?

The Odd Couple is ditching the yellow and searching for a new "look" that YOU think suits us best.

As readers, how do YOU see us?

Is Sarah really the tea drinking, knitting, quiet one?
Is Chrissie really the cigar smoking, man hater dressed in black?

Let us know (with a comment below!) what you want our new Odd Couple logo to look like and odds are... we'll actually take your advice.

Code Red Clothing?

"We don't have a dress code. We rely on our employees to use common sense, good judgment and good taste," Mainz said. "It's so rare for us to have to address a customer's clothing issue."

So after at least two women have been scolded for their choice of dress by Southwest Airlines, I have to wonder…

Who exactly are these “employees”
And how is it that THEIR common sense can tell a woman what to wear?

I don’t have a problem with dress codes.
I understand that while at work we don’t wear mini skirts and cleavage tops.
I get that going from "beach-wear to restaurant-wear" may take a little planning (bikini-tinis are fine, but bikini-tops are not).

What I DO have a problem with is some random employee telling me what is appropriate based on their opinion of fashion when I may have an important flight I can’t miss.

I’d never wear the 3 inch mini-skirt anywhere… ever.

But then again I’m not 5’10 and 100lbs.

Regardless, I wouldn’t want “Keith” telling me I couldn’t.

If a company has “standards," of dress, then it should have a dress code that is followed by everyone… always…. rules are rules.

They shouldn’t be subject to one’s opinion.

Especially if that opinion revolves around someone else’s body.

"What really tops the whole story off is that Ebbert wore the same outfit on the return flight to San Diego later that day. A female flight attendant also took note of it, according to Ebbert.

“I was complimented by the stewardess on my return flight,” she said.

Why I traded in "hoochie" for LL Bean stretchy pants

I was enraged, no infuriated. I was embarrassed. My whole body rattled. My fierce expression froze.

While everyone got a memo on dress code, my LESSON was delivered loud and clear -- and in person.

"We want you to do well in this company," I was told. "That means you shouldn't show your midsection."

Midsection? I glanced down. Oh no, somehow I had worn my Britney Spears Halloween costume to work that day. (That link was for you Sean.)

Wait, no I hadn't. Really, I picked out a pair of baggy black corduroys that sat comfortably on my hips, and maybe a minute bit of skin showed -- if I waved my arms over my head (which I do all the time at work).

"Yes m'am," I muttered, like a scolded pre-schooler, and walked out of her office, tripping on my tail.

At that moment, I felt that injustice had been served. Why was I being singled out, when others came to work in wrinkled T-shirts and flip-flops?(mostly the sports writers) I jumped to conclusions: She hates me. That's what it is!

Fast forward 3 years.
I'm trying on some pants I used to wear to work. They are so tight, I had stopped breathing. Hmmmm.... Either I gained weight (which I refuse to believe) or MY BOSS WAS RIGHT.

OMG, I used to be the workplace hoochie mama, I thought, as I frantically reached for the remote to compare my style w/ those on "What Not To Wear."

After a consultation with some friends in their late 20s, I found out that the CLOTHING EPIPHANY is something most women go through, usually around my age. Except for maybe this one.

I felt relief knowing that others my age have flipped through the LL Bean catalog ooohing and awwwing over frumpy sweaters and stirrup stretchy pants.

Thursday, September 13, 2007


So I know when you’re single.

And when you’re taken.

And the rest of the 1,385,000,200,2820,028 people in your “network” do as well.

I think social networking sites are a disaster waiting to happen to relationships (and un-relationships).

After you’ve been dating for months, he’s suddenly LIVID that you WONT CHANGE YOUR STATUS!

And that girl who loves you but you don't know, is at home crying because some chipmunk-looking girl left you the "MUAH Miss You <3" comment.

Does Myspace (or Facebook ← for you TGH) put added pressure on those people who are “dating” or “tween-ingtheir way through a relationship?

And how long
is too long

for it to be wrong
to be with someone
and claim to the online world
that you’re still SINGLE ?

A crash course on the iGeneration

(from HELIO)

You get a text from your boss = he's trying to be cool
You get a text from your coworker = booty call
You get a text from your college buddy = drunk again

Your boss has myspace = conducting background checks
Your mom has myspace = she's appalled by your actions

You get an e-mail from your co-worker = ill-advised booty call
You get an from your college buddy = bored at work

He's not interested if:
His auto reply says "I'm dead"
He always puts you on speakerphone
He tells you he's getting married on myspace

She's not interested if:
She changes her IM status to "Please stop"
She leaves you a voicemail about the joys of abstinence
She changes her IM icon to a picture of a can of mace

Emoticons 101
Guys shouldn't send other guys emoticons, unless they like the other guy. A lot.

(dedicated to my friend whose CLASSY boyfriend broke up w/ her by changing his myspace status back to single.)

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Last Saturday, I went on the pawfect date.

1 - I wore whatever felt comfortable. He didn't care.
2 - There was no panic that what I wanted to do would conflict with the midday Yankees game.
3 - No need to stop for breakfast because he refused to eat on-the-go.
4 - He leaped out of my car with such enthusiasm, you'd never know that I wanted to go there for selfish reasons.
5 - He stayed by my side at all times, despite the temptation of many other hot dames.
6 - Others deemed us "the perfect duo" all day long.
7 - No fights ensued when I showered other males with my attention.
8 - On the ride home, I listened to my favorite music without complaint. He slept.
9 - We arrived home and he gave me space by curling up on the couch alone. Yet an invitation stood that he was willing to cuddle. It was up to me.

That's why I'm dedicating this post to HIM


After a few weeks of chatting, I was ready for the “next move.”


So, he was out with friends, I have friends… and what better thing to do than meet up for a casual Wing Night at Darby’s??? (ooops, I forgot I hate Darby’s...).

Anyway, his picture had him looking tall, dark and handsome.
He claimed to be a 27-year-old teacher who had traveled the world.

Who showed up at Darby’s ? ? ?

A 40-something who hadn’t shaved in months and had that “blue collar” look about him.

Anyway, Mr. B C (Blue Collar, Bastard Cupid, Big Creep... whatever works) greeted me warmly.


I, however, was horrified.

Conversation was at a standstill and I pulled the “turn my back to you and talk to my friend” move.

Although it works well on people you’ve literally just met, the guy you’ve chatted with for hours on end doesn’t take the hint so well.

What I learned?

Unless you MEET someone and FALL FOR HIM… it’s not going to happen.

Cupid distributes arrows for ONE reason.
They are not for “inflicting” singles with love.

They are for carrying around in your purse for protection.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

What happened to the ancient art of eye contact?

Why are people trading in face-to-face meetings for instant messenger icons? First impressions to profile views? Trading e-mails instead of swapping phone numbers?

What's wrong with meeting your mate traditionally?

I just don't believe that a dry spell can be cured by or eHarmony, even if they do have Dr. Phil, mainly because the virtual world is filled with representations of who people wish they were. In the virtual world, I'm 5'8", thin like a Cheez-It, and I have two nostrils of equal size, instead of one the size of Hunter Mtn. and the other the size of an M&M.

Shut down your computer (after you've finished reading this blog, of course)... I have a BETTER idea!

You don't need cyber space, you just need some old fashion eye contact. Ya'all know, I didn't invent this smooth move, but I did master it!

The method:
Step one: PREPARE for a night out as if you were going on a date with the man of your dreams, even tho you haven't met him yet. Take the time to actually curl those eyelashes, blow out your hair, pick out clothes that make you feel on top of the world.

Step two: When you make your ENTRANCE at your event, plant a confident smile on your face that says I'm single and happy. Make sure you don't go overboard. You want to feel like Jennifer Love Hewitt in Can't Hardly Wait, not Jaime Pressly in Joe Dirt.

Step three: Once you feel your self-esteem soaring, you're ready to SKIM THE ROOM for someone who grabs your attention. When you spot him, send THE SIGNAL, with eye contact. 3 RULES: Glances not stares. Smiles not drool. Confidence not stuck up.

Step four: If he smiles back and continues to glance at you -- and you are pretty positive there's no girlfriend in the picture -- approach him or create an opportunity for him to approach you. E.g. he's standing in a bathroom line, stand by the bar nearby. E.g. he goes outside to make a phone call, accidentally bump into him as he re-enters the room.

Now get on out there, because an avatar will never take the place of a REAL MAN!

Cupid the Con Artist

For the sake of this blog
(okay, okay and MAYBE my lackluster love-life).

I took it upon myself to endure a 2 week stint on

And I didn’t even make it a full 2 weeks.

Here’s what I’ve learned:

1. Regardless of the age range you put in for what you’re seeking, men old enough to be your grandfather will still message you. (and their comments may remind you of the usual "dirty old man" routine you find elsewhere).

2. If you thought you could take it slow through all of the online features, then this is not the case. “Hi I’m Mr. So&So, what’s your name? Can I have your number.” This never works in real life… and it doesn’t work for me… online either.

3. If you thought the majority of people who sign up for online dating services are desperate and lonely or workaholics, you are correct!

4. All those assumptions that unattractive people put up blurry 10-year-old pictures of themselves… are also true!

5. If you exchange AIM names with people, they will become your AOL-Stalker… so if you ever hope to chat with your friends, they will surely be badgering you with “Hey, you there? Where did you GOOOoooo?”

I’ve always said that online-dating services add a lot of pressure
they don’t let nature take its course
and you’re likely to find a date with someone who just wants someone
not particularly you.

(Horror story of over-zealous Cupid-Stalker to come tomorrow)!!!

Monday, September 10, 2007

The slap that stings the most

Question: "I have been in an 8-year relationship with my boyfriend,
but he does not want to commit to marriage,
he just wants to live together,

and see how we do as a couple.
Should I move on or try living with him?
I asked him if he ever plans on getting married
and he honestly couldn't answer me...
Am I wasting my time? Please help!

Sarah Lynn says:

Sometimes asking the "where is this going" question gets you nowhere.

You can look deep into his eyes, confess your feelings, and hope he says where he stands. Or, with a face full of tears, admit your frustration and demand the truth.

Whatever your approach, in my opinion, if you have to ask, you aren't going to like his answer (or his non-answer).

I'm not saying it's a question that I don't ask.

Those words spill out of my mouth uncontrollably while a sting walks across my face. Because ultimately, the fact that you have to ask (especially over and over) is the biggest slap of all.

WHERE is this relationship going test

He'll never tell

The dreaded “where is this going?” talk
According to the above article, "when men hear the words, “Where is this going?” they freeze up. Women ask this question because there’s a lack of communication and they want to know where they stand. For example, if she wants a commitment but he doesn’t want to be tied down, then that’s an issue that needs to be brought into the open. Problem is, men don’t like to be put on the spot and discuss their feelings. And between us girls, we know it’s because they don’t know their feelings or how to handle them. So instead of trying to guarantee your future together, focus on your guy’s actions. Look for the little (and sometimes hidden) signs that he’s committed to the relationship. Does he open the door for you, answer the phone when you call and make an effort to impress your friends? If so, he’s investing in the relationship’s future. On the other hand, if the only time he calls you is to invite you over for hanky panky and can’t remember your favorite color or food, it’s safe to say he’s just not that into you."

I’m a girl, not a professional interpreter.

I don’t have time for the “little hidden signs.”

I don’t want to scrutinize his every move to determine if he’s “into me” enough.

Women are often thought to be CRAZY because of this very expectation, that we are to read the signs rather than listen to the words coming from the mouths of men everywhere.

“Well, he calls me everyday!”
“Oh… but he introduces me as his “friend.”
BUT we’re intimate!”
“Oh… well… no one would know it the way he pats me on the back in public.”

I dunno, maybe I’m CRAZY for saying it... but just ask.

Chances are if you have to… you already know the answer anyway.

(also, listen here if you missed me on the radio this morning;)

Friday, September 7, 2007

Just say NO to HIM

I realized in my last relationship the importance of SAYING NO.

Do NOT go to parties where all of his EX-GFs will be.
Do NOT go to ‘NOISE ART” shows where you’ll be forced to watch amateur videos of women being degraded in the name of “art.”
Do NOT go to see his mom’s new house, (even after you’ve broken up) because she’d like to see you.

WHY NOT you ask???

Because it won’t be appreciated ANYWAY.

Because your discomfort in any of these situations will be what’s remembered, not the effort you made by enduring them.

We have a stage five clinger! - Wedding Crashers

Drawing a line between man purse and girlfriend can be difficult.

A man purse girlfriend is constantly with her boyfriend, no matter where he goes, who he's with or what he's doing. She loses her identity and becomes his accessory. Keys - check. Watch - check. Clingy girlfriend -- check.

Despite my determination, I find myself in similar uncomfortable situations. I fall for the "Why don't you come with me?" line, only to realize after it's too late that I really should have let him go it alone. This generally happens when his friend tells me to do "Ear Muffs".

He's being polite with the invite. But there's just some parties that you shouldn't attend. Golf outings (no thanks)! Co-ed softball (I'll pass)! Sunday afternoon football games (Isn't there a TV marathon for "The Hills")!

What are your rules to standing by your man without stepping on his toes?

Thursday, September 6, 2007

Sharing is for toddlers, not for first dates

We all learn that "sharing is caring" in preschool. But when it comes to dating, the rules change a bit. Too much sharing is actually scary.

How much should you open up in a new relationship? My advice is to just be, well, normal.

Normal: "Did you grow up in a big family?"
Not Normal: "Would you like to be a part of my family?"
Normal: "What is your favorite holiday?"
Not Normal: "What's your favorite position?"
Normal: "Yankees or Mets?"
Not Normal: "When we have kids, I'm going to coach their Little League games."

Whether you want the answers to personal questions or want to share your own life's intimate details, you must first establish comfortability. You have a lifetime to get to know each other, so why try to fit that all in on the first date?

What have people shared or asked you on a first date that made you feel uncomfortable?

Trust issues, or instinct?

After opening up (somewhat) to a potential suitor we can be struck with the OH NO syndrome.

The OH NO what have I DONE this time syndrome.

Sure, "they say" we’re never happy if we don’t take risks, but what about if we do and then we regret it... a lot?

I’m wondering if my reaction (panic) is “normal” or riddled with warning…

Because after recently letting my guard down I immediately had a nightmare.

I had a nightmare that Mr. Guy-Who-Made-Me-Open-Up was married.

In my dream, he also had 2 children, one of whom was 10 years old (how do people hide that sort of thing)??? His wife looked like the opposite of me... tall, brunette, and super thin.

And after I showed up at his house and demanded an answer...
he calmly told me that it didn’t matter if I knew or not because I was disposable.

I drove off, peeling out of his driveway crying
and telling myself I’d NEVER do THAT again.

Needless to say, I woke up wondering...

was this dream evidence of trust issues

or a warning to trust my instincts?

(I’m shaking my magic-8 ball as we speak, but what do YOU think)?

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

Skinny enough, for now... almost

ME: "I need you to come over before we go out."

FRIEND: "Why, what's wrong?"

ME: "Nothing, I just don't know which top to wear."

FRIEND: "Well what do they look like?"

ME: "I've narrowed it down to the black maternity shirt or the floral old lady curtain top with the little cap sleeves."

FRIEND: "Um, go with maternity."

And so, I enter my late 20s.
Maybe a few months too late... but it's finally happened.

Now, it's not a matter of finding the outfit I look the "thinnest" in.
It's finding the outfit that I feel the most feminine in.

And this sometimes includes maternity-looking fashion, high-wasted jeans, and clothes that show curves rather than bones.

But I wonder, how do men feel about the "maturing 20-something."

Should we leave the billowy, feminine, clothes on the rack and still trek out in our tight black tops?

(Somehow, I think I know the answer to this).

Tuesday, September 4, 2007

Keep your single friends close

We piled in my SUV in search of ladies night FUN. What we got was:
-- A bar with a good band and no people.
-- A bar with a banjo and lots of odd people.
-- And, after driving from Pok-Newburgh-New Paltz, a bar with a DJ and four people in their late 30s trying to do the electric slide to "Party Like a Rockstar."

The problem: 1) College was out. 2) It was raining. 3) The Yankees were playing.

But the NO. 1 Factor against us: We have been out of that scene for four years.

We had no idea what bars are good on what nights.

Had one of us been single, I'm pretty sure she would have been able to provide a list of what bands/DJs play where, what the scene is like, who the bartenders are, if the crowd is cool and what the specials are.

Heck, she probably would have given the bouncer a kiss hello, and in we went, had there been even a slight line.

Lesson learned -- consult w/ my single, bar hoping, beer chugging friends before a ladies night out!

Ms. Fun, but never Mrs.

"Want to go out this weekend"
"What are you doing TONIGHT?"
"You at Mahoney's?"
"I'm out, where are YOU! I assumed you'd be here."

Above you will find the many messages I receive from my female friends who are in relationships... usually between 5 p.m. Friday and 3 a.m. Sunday morning.

VERY seldom, do those with boyfriends, send the "What are you doing toDAY?" text messages.

Because daytime things are for couples.
And as a single woman, I apparently represent the "other half."

Ya know, the half whose company is sought when those girls with men need an escape.

They need to have fun... and I'm supposed to bring it.
So my phone is silent most of the day.

When it's beautiful outside
and all I want to do is have conversations over coffee,
I know I have to do that alone...

Because apparently my conversation
and my life are entertainment better served in a martini glass.