Ready, Aim, Date!

Since Kat and I have found ourselves in happy relationships (gasp!), there hasn't been much to write* about as of late. I've decided to resurrect the blog, taking a slightly different angle.

I have this friend -- we'll call her Amy because, uh, that's her name. Amy is what I refer to as your classic "inexplicably single girl." She's in her mid-30s, smart, successful, attractive, fun, medium-maintenance, low on the drama, high on humor, and an all around catch.

Why is Amy single? Well, aside from the fact that like many of us she spent most of her 20s dating commitmentphobes and douchebags, she's also a dedicated professional, and devoted daughter/sister/friend/aunt/puppy mom, and a disciplined musician -- all things that take a ton of time, effort and energy. And even though I can't figure out why some guy hasn't snapped her up, when I look at the long list of her priorities, it makes perfect sense -- it's a trap that most young women fall into. We get very focused on meeting our own needs (as we should) and suddenly there's not enough time to look for Mr. Right, say nothing of the time to nurture and grow a relationship.

It was en route home from one of our many "sushi and girltalk" nights when I commented on the above, and her response, laughing was, "Well, I don't know, can't you FIX IT?"**

Thus, "Operation Fix It" was born.

For phase 1 of "Fix It," Amy joined E-Harmony... an online dating service that differentiates from the competition by solely offering a "Matching" system, vs. the "boyfriend shopping" that comes with most other dating sites -- you fill out a series of rather intense questionares, and EH claims to use very sophisticated "compatability software" to match you with your soul mate***

BUT -- I am somebody who has really enjoyed the conversational, "strike up random conversation with whomever floats your boat" nature of other dating sites like Match.com -- I look at it like a giant cocktail party, where you see somebody that interests you, and randomly strike up conversation. I've been told by numerous sources that those who HATE match.com love EH, and vice versa. I know that Amy didn't enjoy Match the last time she did it, so I figured this would be a good idea for her.

Instantly, there were a few contenders, but one definitely stood out from the crowd: dog owner, philanthropist, career-oriented, home-owner... all things that are important and similar to Amy's lifestyle and desire for a partner. They emailed back and forth a few times, had a few wonderful phone calls, and then set out on Date 1.

Amy is a lot nicer than I am****, but I think I summed up her date in 20 seconds on Saturday at our girls night --

"Nice guy. Asked her lots of questions. Outdated pictures. Unhealthy body weight. Looks like somebody's uncle. And sweated profusely throughout dinner. Wait, he asked you that question already. Could it be that he is so obsessed with the Twins game in the bar that HE CAN'T FULLY FOCUS ON HIS DATE? Next!"

And.......... scene.

So Date 1 of Operation Fix It was a bust -- but here are the positives:

Amy got out there. She identified something about her life she'd like to change -- namely, she wants to find a partner - and made some changes in her life accordingly (dropped a few "extra curriculars"). She stepped outside her comfort zone and tried something new, and gave somebody a chance. And ENJOYED the process, with a fun attitude.

The negatives? I have only two:

They waited too long to meet (this might be why I don't like EH), thus building up way too many expectations. I'm of the "meet 'em and greet 'em and love 'em and leave 'em" attitude, meaning: let's cut to the chase, have a drink, see if there's chemistry, and if not, we both walk away unscathed. It's all about timing -- with EH, you are sort of FORCED to have a long "get to know you period." I don't like that. Becasue then if it doesn't click in person, you actually mourn the loss a bit... like losing a friend, a last call goodnight, or a mini-breakup. Also -- my totally-negative-but-accurate-advice is always "DON'T GET EXCITED!" Look forward to meeting the new guy, but don't build up too many expectations.

Online dating is a numbers game -- much like real estate and busses, there's always another choice right around the corner*****.

Phase 2 of Operation Fix It will most likely include a round of speed dating... where some girlfriends and I sit at the bar, watch, snark, and take notes. Stay tuned!

Sugar and spice.
~Jess

PS: If any MEN actually read this and want to be set up with my pal, email me at chicksonchicks@gmail.com. There will be a qualifying process, but I'd love to find a GREAT guy for my fabulous friend!

*read: whine, bitch, complain, snark, and criticize
**apparently I've earned a reputation as somewhat of a match-maker / dating guru among my friends
***I've done EHarmony twice now, and frankly, think this is bullshit -- I don't think that my dream guy is a CPA, programmer, or a born again Christian that doesn't drink, but what do I know...
****And I think I'm nicer than Kat, so I'd love to see what SHE has to say about this.
*****My dad gave me this advice about real estate when I was embarking upon my first home-buying experience -- well, technically, he gave this advice to my BROTHER, who chose not to listen to him like the stubborn youngest-child that he is, but then later, my brother repeated this advice to me on behalf of dear old dad. I'm sure my brother AND father will be thrilled to know that I've recycled their advice in my racy blog on dating, sex, men, and crazy chicks.

Christmas For Girls

The guy I'm dating right now refers to Valentine's Day as "Christmas for Girls." He seems to buy into the common belief that this day is a huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuge day of major importance for women.

Is it?

I'll tell you what -- the older I get, the less things like this matter to me. Lest I should sound like an old woman, I will tell you that my favorite way to spend New Years Eve is to invite over my closest friends for food, drinks, board games and movies. Sure, I love to entertain... but the REAL reason is because I can wear slipper socks instead of thigh highs, go to bed early, and I don't have to drive anywhere.

I have similar thoughts about Valentine's Day, but to put a finer point on it, I've realized that when you have "the real thing," you don't really need the flimsy veneer of flowers, chocolates, champagne, and jewelry.

By that I mean -- in the relationships of my past (read: insecure, unsatisfying, unstable, and just plain WRONG), the material / symbolic things seemed SO important -- I needed a dozen roses, a little blue box from Tiffany's, and a bottle of champagne over candlelight to tell me "I love you, and you are special."

Last year, I was officially single but still very close with my ex... I'd been in Mexico over the holiday, but he picked me up and brought me home from the airport. And brought me home to a spotlessly clean house, courtesy of him -- and I said "You could have saved so much money over the years if all you'd done was this." And it's true! I didn't need bracelets and earrings and flowers (oh my!) to feel loved, what I needed was to be shown that MY efforts in the relationship were not only appreciated, but duplicated (in prior years, when he was my boyfriend, the day had always consisted of a fancy dinner, champagne, roses, and usually some sort of gift -- it was always nice, and always thoughtful, but NEVER what I really needed, mostly because it was a half-assed attempt at making up for the 100 ways our relationship didn't work, and the other 364 days of the year that he didn't really care to try any harder).

Maybe it's the wisdom that comes with age, or maybe I'm just finally in the right relationship, but this year, I couldn't care less about all the things that Hallmark & Cosmo tell me I should care about.

I've got the guy, and plans to spend the weekend together (albeit in an AmericInn just outside of Fargo, attending a wedding for two people I've never met before), and quite simply, that is all I need.

In a relationship where -- finally, magically, beautifully -- I know EXACTLY where I stand, the rest seems completely insignificant. And I'm pretty sure he feels the same. Knowing that I'm respected, appreciated, admired, and adored... no bouquet of flowers could ever compare.

And that, my friends, is the best gift of all... retail be damned.

I'm interested in hearing from you -- what's important to you on Valentine's Day? In your relationship? What special things do you do to celebrate? Guys, how do YOU feel about celebrating? Women, what do you need/ expect from your guys? And most importantly, why have we allowed ourselves to get to the point where we focus all our energies on ONE "day of love" when we should be caring for each other all year round?

Sugar and spice,
~Jess

The Big O*

Dear Old Fashioned & Obsolete,

Back when I was in 7th Grade Home Ec class**, we had to do this stupid workbook assignent each week that was basically about self esteem and self awareness. The ONLY thing that I remember from this course, other than how to make chicken nuggets in the oven, is a tool discussed in the workbook -- the Three Legged Stool of Self Confidence. I don't have any clue what those three legs were, but the point is that self confidence was like a three legged stool, and if any of those legs was wobbly, unstable, shorter or thinner than the other, the stool wouldn't hold up to weight. Thus, it was important to be a well-rounded individual, made of equal parts of hard wood.

Or something like that.

When it comes right down to it, a relationship isn't that different -- it's a three legged stool,*** comprised of equal parts of physical intimacy, emotional connection, and intellectual stimulation. If any of those pieces are missing or unstable, the whole structure suffers, and ultimately, can't bear weight. NOW, do I think that means you should hop into bed with everybody on the 1st, 2nd, 3rd date? Absolutely not. I mean, if you both WANT to do that, go for it -- but I don't think that's necessary, and frankly, I usually find it refreshing when the guy doesn't ASSUME that's happening. I'm a little old fashioned about such issues -- been known to wait MONTHS before doing the deed with a new boyfriend -- but penetration or no, if I don't feel like this guy WANTS me... I lose interest.

WHY? Because as previously addressed in this blog, I wanna be the girl.

I want to be chased.
I want to be WANTED.

We spend hours dreaming up outfits and picking shoes, say nothing of makeup and gossip and waxing pink parts, all in the hopes that it's not without reason -- so while we're probably ALSO not committed or keyed up about hopping in the sack after 2 dinners and a movie, we've also gone to a LOT of trouble to look and feel sexy and desirable -- and we're not mind readers, and we want to know that you're feelin' it.

And if you're not, I'm pretty sure that makes us... Just... Friends.

As Kat indicated below, the relationship has to be moving forward in ALL directions -- firing on all cylinders, as I like to say -- in order to remain balanced. Some people kiss on the first date. Some people don't. Shrug. I think that's fine either way -- but a warm goodnight hug, after you've walked me to my car and opened the door, goes a really long way. A kiss on the cheek is never a bad idea. Or a hand on my lower back. SOMETHING to let me know that you want to touch me. Date #2 is a great time for some hand holding, maybe a kiss goodnight. And if on Date #3 I'm at your house MAKING YOU DINNER and then curling up to watch some TV after hours of intense conversation / bonding? Maybe I'm an idiot, but isn't that code for, "Let's make out and see if we have physical chemistry?"

Because, uh, I decoded that one in about 9th grade and haven't been wrong since.

All of this, O & O F'd****, hopefully leads up to THE BIG O -- and no, I'm not talking about the Obsolescence of Old fashioned values -- I'm talking about the kind of smokin' connection and ultimate sexual compatability that happens when a woman feels valued, appreciated, and understood on ALL levels-- physical, emotional, intellectual.

We're a little more complicated than you, yaknow, and it takes a little more to make us tick.

When you ignore us sexually, that's a huge part of the equation. Everytime you shut a woman out, you might as well be making kindling out of that three-legged stool. Little by little, the whole structure falls apart.

SO! My advice to you? Grow a pair! Haha! That's SO mean,***** and I'm terribly sorry about that,****** but seriously. You're a grown man. Stop whining. Stop putting a woman off. Make her feel like a desirable, sexy, woman -- she's not just your buddy, she's your DATE. Don't compromise your values, morals, or change WHO you are. But up your game a bit -- I guarantee it'll get you to the playoffs.

Sugar and spice,
~Jess


*Um, no -- that doesn't stand for Old Fashioned & Obsolete
**Excuse me, Personal and Family Life Sciences, PFLS for short (Prounounced, "Piffles." Gag me).
***Insert obvious joke here about your third leg, ahem, made of wood
****Nope, "F'd" doesn't stand for what you think it does
*****Whoa, did Kat and I switch places here? I thought I was the nice one!
******No I'm not, actually

Nice Guys Finish Last...Or Never Start At All

Dear Chix:

Lately, there's been a recurring theme among the girls I've dated, and that is that a lack of propulsion in the physical relationship has repeatedly sunk my boat. I liked these girls, but I guess there is one thing that I just don't get. People expect sex on the third date. I enjoy sex just as much as the next person but by the third date I hardly even know that person. I just don't grasp what the rush is. I would much rather take my time getting to know someone before I decide if I want to sleep with them and thus make the sex more meaningful. I guess I am old fashioned because I see sex as more that just sex. Am I wrong for thinking that way? Is there no one else out there who thinks like me? Am I obsolete? I am naive in this whole dating rules/expectations game and I am disappointed that the physical aspect of a relationship trumps all else and becomes a deal breaker. I am seeking advice...

******************************************************************************
Okay, Nice Guy, before I go all sex therapist on your ass, I want to say thanks for giving me something to think about today other than Inaugural Fashions and The Biggest Loser. This has been a long week and giving you some MUCH NEEDED perspective on your "problems" is just what I need today.

So, I just read this and thought to myself "If I were sitting across the table from this guy and he just told me this story, I would set down my beer, purse my lips, furrow my brow and say 'Have you made it to first base yet?'" So, Nice Guy, let's take a step back from "Sex on the 3rd Date" expectations and ask the real question...Have you put your tongue in her mouth/ear/cleavage/pink parts by the 3rd date?

Because if you haven't - if you're using "sex" as a metaphor for any sort of physical activity here, then we have one issue. If you're very consistently getting to first base, then onto hitting doubles, even eeking out a triple here and there - and these girls are still jumping ship due to lack of action - then we have a different issue.

Although I don't know what the answer is here...I like to give most of my female counterparts a fair shake. So that said, I don't think that girls bail on guys who don't want to have sex right away. I think they bail on guys who don't want to have sex (or make out or kiss or anything) at all. So, I'll proceed with the belief that the lack of sex is also a lack of heavy petting and oral olympics. K? K. Cool.

So nice guy, my advice to you is this - stick to your morals! Wait to have sex until you're in a relationship with someone you like/love/adore. BUT - in the course of dating, you MUST also show the girl that you're attracted to her. That you're going to be progressing the relationship both emotionally AND physically. Some people don't like to kiss on the first date, which is perfectly fine. But you have to kiss on the second date. A third date needs to progress - not to sex - but how about some passionate kissing and maybe a tit grab? Don't worry, you're not objectifying us!! We like it! We feel attractive and desired!!!! And do you know what happens when we don't feel desired and attractive? We jump ship. Sex or no sex on the 3rd date.

But we're all big kids here - so if you're thinking about waiting until you're married or some other such nonsense (sorry God) then you owe it to someone to tell them that upfront. Because I can tell you, that would be a deal breaker for me.

Why? Well, its a well known fact that I'm a ridiculous hornball. But also, its been my experience that guys that want to wait usually have some "issue". See: premature load-blowing, teeny weinies, STDs, etc (Let the onslaught begin)

And so Nice Guy, there you go. If you're King Cunnilingulus on Date 3 and Lady Lovely still bolts for the door due to no hot beef injection - you're dating the wrong girls and stop picking up chicks on AFF.com.

Warm regards and bed sheets,
-kat

Sparkless

Carrie Bradshaw calls it "Sza Sza Szu," an expression that makes me physically cringe when I hear it. Some people call it "butterflies in the stomach," and others just call it attraction. I call it a "spark," and once you've experienced it with a potential partner, it's virtually impossible to settle for anything less.

That said, sometimes those relationships that start out hot and heavy don't have any staying power -- the slow burn is the one that, in true tortoise-and-hare fashion, wins the race.

I don't know all the answers, but I do know this --

Guys, yeah, we want a nice guy. But when we say "nice guy," we don't mean one that takes 4 dates to kiss us on the cheek, and doesn't have the cajones to make the bold move. We want men of integrity and kindness -- who still know how to pick up the CHECK, and pick up the CHICK.

In other words, don't be an ass, but at the same time, don't confuse "nice guy" with "I won't touch your boobs until the 6th date, and only after you've given me verbal permission."

"Nice guy" is a positive thing.

"Wus" is not.

I've been in the situation a dozen or more times when I've WANTED to like somebody so much -- the anxiety of the relationship isn't even found in whether or not he likes me or whether or not he'll call, but why we're not smokin' physically... the symptoms of which are: not excited to go out. Not excited to see his name on my caller ID. Not excited that the relationship seems to be continuing or that he seems to be interested. Yet I've tried to be excited; tried to stay interested. When I finally admit it isn't working, more often than not, it's because try as I might, my "good on paper" guy was, in real life, as pale and milquetoast as a sheet of 8 X 10 matte ivory finish.

Yet over and over again, I've "tried to feel a spark." Tried to convince myself there was something there, even though there wasn't.

I've also been on the other end -- where the guy feels every little wonderful thing for me in the world... except the spark. I didn't really understand what that meant, until I dated a few sparkless guys. And once again, these were men that were wonderful guys... we just didn't have that intangible, magical chemistry.

On a first date with my current flame, he said to me, "Yeah, you women... you get all wrapped up in that spark. Personally, I think that's overrated."

A month later, he said "Actually, I totally get that now -- I'd never felt it before, until I found it with you."

"See," I smiled at him, "I told you it's not overrated."

The problem, of course, rears it's ugly head when you've never felt it before -- if you only have past assclowns and crazies to compare your current relationship to, EVERYTHING feels like an improvment. If you don't know "the spark," how long to you tough it out before packing it in?

I'm of the belief that you have to be connecting on all levels (physically, emotionally / mentally, intellectually), in order to feel that spark -- I think of it as a three-legged stool, and if any of those legs is short, broken, or otherwise stumpy, the entire stool is adversely affected, and the structure isn't stable -- similarly, if you have amazing conversations, and you're intellectual equals, but can't seem to get things lifted off in the physical department, you're just friends.

Sorry, but that's how it works.

You're. Just. Friends.

Sometimes, you need that the physical element in order to grow the other two -- if you know right away that you spark physically, it makes things more interesting and exciting -- it's the draw that brings you back for more, over and over again. It's the thing you can come back to, even when the going gets tough or the path seems unnavigatable. Getting to know each other physically is FUN -- say nothing of it being just as important, in terms of lasting love, as the intellectual / emotional connection. And each of the three support, enhance, and reinforce each other.

When you don't spark, you're sparkless -- not to be confused with sparkles -- and it shouldn't take more than a couple of dates to figure that out. Try as we might to "make things work," it's a lie you shouldn't want to tell....

...because trust me when I say -- there's SO much better out there. There's somebody out there who will spark for you just as much as you spark for them, and when you connect those two fuses, the outcome is pretty amazing. Rubbing two sticks together, trying to make a spark, only clouds your brain and gets in the way of allowing the RIGHT spark to find it's way to you.

Sugar and spice,

~jess

The Dreaded Friendzone

Over drinks with a girlfriend the other night, the topic of The Unrelationship came up -- she'd recently ended a "something" with a "someone," but was laughingly trying to explain it to me:

"...At first I was apprehensive, even though he's totally hot. Once I got together with him, it was hot and heavy right from the get go... the physical was like nothing I've ever experienced, but I got sort of swept away in it (see: "sex haze" for details). Then I found out that he was on match.com - at the very least, looking at other women, but maybe dating them too. So I put the freeze on sex.

From then on, we kept seeing each other, but nothing physical. I assumed we were sliding into friendship-land, but every time I'd bring it up and ask "do you just want to be friends? Are we just friends?" he'd protest... "No, we're not just friends!"

But we weren't having sex. And then... then we weren't even KISSING anymore."

Finally, my friend ended her UNrelationship - much to the dismay of her UNboyfriend. They said they'd have a friendship, but haven't seen or spoken to each other since.

Let me ask you, dear reader, where is the line between friend and boyfriend? Personally, as the wise Kat once said to me, I like to let a guy's sex drive move a relationship forward -- if it ain't there, neither is the potential. And if a guy is only interested in nailing me -- without kissing me -- I think that sums it up pretty well.

As another friend of mine quips, "I've been FWAK'ed -- fucked without a kiss."

But if this is the case, why is the guy so hesitant to say "we're just friends"? Is it because being pushed into "The Friendzone," removes all possibilities for future sex? Is it because he's not yet sure how he feels about this woman? Is he trying to let HER steer the course? Is he just so wrapped up in NOT having his manhood insulted by putting in The Friendzone that he's in denial?

I just don't get it.

Usually I can put on the man pants and see things from a different perspective -- but in this case, I"m truly baffled. If there's no love, then why not just be pals?

And once you've been put in that Dreaded Friendzone, is there ever a way out? Do two people go from lovers to friends and back to lovers? Or is the Friendzone the death knell of sex / intimacy?

Thoughts?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And while we're on this topic of platonic relations between men and women, I"ll ask the age old favorite:

Is it possible for men and women to truly be "just friends," or does sex always get in the way?

And what about the jealous boyfriend / girlfriend who can't handle it when his/her signifant other goes out with a "just friend" of the opposite sex?

Protective, or posessive?
Concerned, or control freak?
Justified, or jackass?

I have my own thoughts on this, but I'm interested in yours.

Sugar and spice,
~jess

Controversy, Discuss

I was recently given the advice that the best relationships are those where the man loves the woman just a little bit more.

Discuss.

Counterpoint: Don't Tell Me You Love Me -- Show Me.

I know that when we all think of The Grand Gesture, we're met with various Hollywood images that have been imprinted in our brains over the years -- since adolescence, we've thought about Lloyd Dobler holding up the In Your Eyes boombox; Richard Gere in his white limo, posing as the White Knight that "rescues" Julia Roberts*, or most recently, Mr. Big hopping a flight to Paris to rescue Carrie from a life with that Russian assclown artist.

It typically goes like this:

Step 1: Introduce male and female leads

Step 2: Outline problem that needs solving (usually, singledom coupled with a sad state of affairs, be it hookerdom, nerddom, or a sub-par relationship)
Step 3: "Meet Cute"
Step 4: Fallout
Step 5: The Grand Gesture
Step 6: Happily Ever After

The Grand Gesture has been around for AGES -- dating all the way back to Shakespeare, or some would argue the crucifixion**. A quick consult to my Handbook of Literature talks about The Grand Style, "a concept traceable back as far as classical antiquity . . . involving a host of lofty elements: nobility of character, sublimity of conception, dignified simplicity or severity of utterance, and grandeur of scope***."

My oh my... how this concept has changed over the years! Because these days? Rarely is it about "nobility of character" or "sublimity of conception," but more like this:

"WOW -- I just woke up from whatever dreamworld I was living in and realized that (Vivian Ward, Diane Court, Carrie Bradshaw) is pretty frickin' awesome -- and PROBABLY the best thing that will ever happen to me. I also realized that when I (called her a hooker in public, ditched her to marry a stick figure with no soul after jerking her around for four years), I was a MAJOR douchebag, yet I don't have the balls to simply admit I was wrong and TALK about it, so I think I'll (show up in a limo, get out the boombox****, fly to Paris), and knock her socks off and win her back! BRILLIANT."

Guys, here's the deal - if you don't act like an ass, The Grand Gesture isn't necessary. Sure, like any girl, I like flowers and romance and the little things you do to make me know I'm special to you; the things that set me apart from A Girl Friend as opposed to a girlfriend. I love the picnic in the park with wine and the iPod, not because it's SOOOOO ROMANTIC, but because it tells me that you took the time to think of something special, albeit simple, where we're spending time alone, talking, with no distractions. I don't need you to make it grand with a string quartet and and catered food... that's not what hooks most women. Similarly, I don't need a dozen roses on Valentine's Day to make up for the 20 times you've fallen short in our relationship -- nothing makes up for the idea of being there, patiently and consistently, even when it's not convenient. As somebody very wise once told me, "When both people in a relationship put the other person first, everybody's needs get met." To that end -- it's not the grand gestures or the endless "I love you's" that make me sure of my place in your heart (and secures yours in mine), but the simple act of BEING there, and being there in the right way, time and time again.

I'd much rather you hold my hair when I've got the flu, bring me coffee at midnight when I've been working since dawn with no end in sight, and follow with a $4 bouquet of flowers from Super America than some huge, overblown, cliche act.

We don't need diamonds*****, we need dependability.

But most women (ahem, yes, myself included) have fallen sucker to The Grand Gesture, assuming that (he bought me a dog, he flew me to Italy, he punched out my ex-boyfriend) equates love. And while it certainly indicates a CERTAIN level of commitment on a man's part, I think it's more like a Get Out of Jail Free card for the 1,000,000 times that man has been lazy in the relationship.

Of course, when we turn the tables on The Grand Gesture, rarely does it work this well: men see a female grand gesture as slightly crazy. Women, I encourage you not to do this. When a guy is done, he's DONE... and no amount of begging, pleading, or grandiosity will change his mind. What WILL change his mind? If anything, it's time alone in his own head (and bed), after which it dawns on him, "oh... I goofed." And chances are, at that point, you'll be on the recieving end of a Grand Gesture of his. But rarely does a woman show up on her trusty steed (write 18 pages letters******, hire a minstrel to play at a romantic dinner in the park, throw rocks at his window in the middle of the night), and whisk the man away to live happily ever after. Noooo... usually that stuff ends up with a restraining order and, well, being written about on this blog. What we women might think of as Grand and Romantic is usually just enterpreted as "psycho," and happy hour mockery with the guys ensues.

Double-standard? You betcha. TRUE? Would I lie to you?

But like Kat said -- it's not Hollywood. There are very few "Meet Cute" scenarios these days, unless you count Match.com and 8 Minute Dating as supercute ways to meet a mate. Similarly, we're not in Fair Verona and you are not the Romeo to my Juliet*******

This brings me back to Kat's discussion of When Harry Met Sally. Did Harry NEED the grand gesture? No. He didn't. Because for decades, through thick and thin, he showed Sally that he was her guy. He did the time; he showed up for her tears and her cramps. He loved her, unconditionally, through sweatpants and ponytails, even though the definition of that love changed over time. And the main theme of the movie, that I love so much?

"When you meet the person you want to spend the rest of your life with, you want the rest of your life to start right away."

Sugar and spice,
~Jess


*I'm not sure how Vivian Ward got this gig -- just happens to be a hooker on Wilshire that gets picked up by a multi-millionare, and then he's such an assclown that SHE walks? And HE begs HER to come back? Clearly I'm in the wrong line of work. ALTHOUGH, you can only hear that Richard Gere / gerbil story so many times before you start wondering if it's true...
**If anybody out there has any stories about crazy chicks dying on a cross to profess their unrequired and unconditional love, I want it. NOW.
***Something tells me that back in classic times, dude was working a little harder at grandiosity than just blaring music below the fair maiden's window, thus waking up the entire neighborhood (Say nothing of her dad. Mine would be pissed. You couldn't even CALL after 10).
****I just realized that Lloyd Dobler is possibly the one exception to this "rule," because in Say Anything, it's Diane that acts like kind of an assclown and dumps HIM, giving him a PEN as a parting gift. WTG, Diana.
*****That said, a well timed 1 carat princess cut solitaire in white gold is always a nice touch. When the timing is right, of course.
******I mean really -- didn't we all learn from Ross and Rachael on Friends that the 18-pager is NEVER a good idea?
*******If you want to get technical, Romeo and Juliet were NOT, actually, a depiction of true love -- even though they downed poison and defied their families wishes. In the beginning of the play, Romeo is in love with another women -- he's fickle -- and the darkest interpretations of this work define it as a COMEDY. How's THAT for depressing?

Unrealistic Expectations of Love

Please note that due to a complete and utter lack of effort on your part, dear readers, I've resorted to recycling posts from my other blog that I have with my oh-so-brilliant friends. One posted a link to a story that claims that people who watch Romantic Comedies in turn have unrealistic expectations of relationships and lack communication skills...We then opened season on the hypothesis and this was my response:

Okay, so first off, I'll admit I've likely seen EVERY romantic comedy that has hit mainstream audiences in the past 10 years. I'm not proud of it, but in a way, I may be a pathetic expert on this topic.

Guess what? I'm so bad that I not only suffered through an entire novel (I grate my teeth to even call it that) comprised of 700 some pages of torturous writing - so committed was I to finish that book that I put myself through physical pain. Then do you know what I did? I watched the fucking movie in hopes that it would redeem the story and I would FOR ONCE be able to spew forth the words: The movie was better than the book!

To my, and Hilary Swank's, disgrace - I did not speak those seven words. I sighed and chalked up 2 more hours of my life wasted on "PS I Love You". I kid you not, even Denny from Grey's Anatomy couldn't save this horrific flick.

But that sad experience aside, I love me some chick flick. Do I especially love them during break ups? Hell yes! Do I own many on DVD and rewatch Hitch and French Kiss on a regular basis? You bet! But in my esteemed opinion, there really is one main Romantic Comedy by which to benchmark all others. This film is the be-all, end-all of Rom-Coms, if you will. And I set forth the example of "When Harry Met Sally".

This movie and all others within the genre follow the same general composition and the inevitable and CONSTANT ending - The Grand Gesture.

What is with that? Why can a movie NOT end with The Grand Gesture? In my life this is the only thing that I think may have influenced my relationships. I mean, wasn't every relationship supposed to have its ups and downs always resolved by one member of the relationship providing The Grand Gesture and solving EVERYTHING?

Riiiiight....

No, I totally thought so! I swear! I always thought that after every scuffle, every fight, one of the many exes would race through the barren woods on a snowy winter day, screaming my name, risking twig and limb, only to come back to me standing on the side of a cliff with my hair blowing in the wind, tears steaming down my face and he would arrive, bloodied and breathless and proclaim his undying love. He would tell me everything would be all right, that as long as we had love, we could endure anything together.

Fuck me. Right. But really, I even picked fights in hopes of the grand gesture. God my 20s were awesome!

That said, what about parental influence? Did this study even look at what sorts of homes these people were raised in? In a society where more homes than ever before are headed up by a single parent, isn't it only natural that children would lack an understanding about communication between life partners? That they would lean on movies about relationships in order to gain better understanding about them? I think more than anything else, any delusions or visions I had about the way things "were supposed to be" in my relationships came from my parents and they way they interacted with each other. And that one time my dad raced through the forest to my mom standing on the white cliffs of Dover. Or something.

And I think that people in their 20's - romantic comedy viewers or not - spend much of their time trying to learn how to navigate relationships. What to say, what not to say, how to say it, when to say it, and we ALL crash and burn at some points. And this isn't just with significant others, it happens at work, with friends, with family. Your 20s are a huge time when you learn how best to work your way through relationships of all sorts as you're no longer protected by the umbrella of school or friends or parents. Its you, 20-something, versus the world.

Which I suppose ropes back in someways to the lessons we've brought forth to you, friends thus far:

Date people your own age - or date cougars as they're pretty cool too.

Don't date the crazy, don't be the crazy - and if you're measuring your relationship against that of Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks in Sleepless in Seattle - We may have a problem.

Tit for Tat

Dear Chicks,

I'm your average red-blooded male -- 36 years old, and I have a girlfriend I'm crazy about and VERY attracted to. The problem (you won't believe me, but here goes)? She wants sex ALL the time. And believe me, more often than not, I'm more than willing to oblige -- but sometimes, I just don't want to have sex. And she takes that verrrrrry personally. And then we get into an argument, or she starts crying, or something like that. I don't know how to make her understand that sometimes, I'm just not in the mood... it's been a long day, I have an early morning, etc. etc. Plus, sometimes when she pursues me so much, I feel a bit emasculated, like, "hey, I'm the guy, let me initiate." What do I do? She's crazy, right? HELP!

Signed,
RBM

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Since Kat and I are preparing for a girls weekend away in the north woods, I thought I'd leave you lovelies with something to ponder whilst we are away -- namely, YOUR wood.

AKA, why does this idiot not want to get laid?

Ha. I kid, I kid. But, RBM (is that code for Ridiculous Bonor Malfunction?), believe me when I say that this is an issue I'm ALL TOO FAMILIAR with, not only because of my own experiences, but that of most women in my social circle. And here's why:

Personally, I think it's mother nature's cruelest joke that just when women are ramping up, the men are slowing down -- from a sexual perspective (say that ten times fast). It's common knowledge that women hit their sexual peak in their early 30s, and men? You peak at like, 18. You spend the next decade trying to nail anything in a skirt, while most of us focus on being a moving target, and then when we're primed and ready to go, you kinda sorta can't be bothered.

Le Sigh.

Let me tell you what happens to a woman at 30 --

For one thing, biology is SCREAMING at us to have babies. So even if we're not necessarily terribly interested in having kids, our ovaries don't agree. Thus, the hormones that make us... how shall we say (um, kat would say "horny" here, but since I'm a delicate little flower*, I prefer to use a different word), amorous.

All the frickin' time.

ALSO, at the same time, we're past that 20-something fear of "oh my god, what if I get pregnant?!" and have moved on a bit into the "oh my god, what if I NEVER get pregnant" phase of life -- no no, I don't mean we're all sitting around neurotically waxing*** on fertility, I just mean that instead of fearing pregnancy, it's more like "Well, I've got my shit straight, good job, enough money, responsible, weeded out the assclowns, I'm sexually confident, and I feel pretty good about myself -- if I want sex, God damnit, I'm going to go out and FIND it, pregnancy be damned!"

And if you aren't interested? I'll find somebody who is.

So in this sense, the roles are a bit reversed. AND there are the hormones.

Men, never underestimate the power of the hormones. You think PMS is a joke, or a scapegoat -- and sometimes it is -- but hormones are very real, and at times, very frustrating.

It's the female equivalent of you sprouting wood during the swimming semester of 7th grade gym class. Uncontrollable, uncomfortable, and leading to situations we didn't intend.

(ie, sniffling, sniveling, semi-drunk girl brain crying about why she must be so fat and ugly that her boyfriend doesn't want to have sex with her).

And then there's the other piece... ahhh, yes. Emasculation. My very favorite topic.

I hear ALL the time that men LOVE IT when we initiate sex. Um, okay, who are these men and where can I find them? Because for the past few years, it's been MY experience that while they might love it some of the time, they also don't really love it. Because, like most red-blooded males, they like to do the chasing. And when they can't chase, they get bored. Or worse, they are afraid the women can outrun them (outearn them, outperform them, outwhatever them), and just sort of shrink off into the corner. Guys, RELAX. Your woman taking the lead in the boudior is NOT code for "I don't value your manhood and I want to be in control," it simply means "I'm confident enough in our relationship -- and in myself -- that I can tell you when I want it, how I want it, and where I want it." DANCE, SUCKA!

(teehee).

Let me set the scene for you here:

Girl and guy are watching TV... they've been together a few years, they have a regular and satisfying sex life. The guy typically initiates, but there's no indication of that happening tonight, and girl is feeling... amorous (there's that word again!). So she starts sort of hinting that maybe... honey... dear... sexy.. it's kinda sorta time to turn off the TV... and come to bed... And then perhaps there's some touching... and hinting... and he's just not picking up on it. OR he's not interested (not sure which is more annoying, frankly). Finally, she thinks "for fuck's sake, I'm done hinting at it," and says "Honey, I want you, right now, let's have sex." He looks at her like she's crazy... and what's running through is head is one of the following:

1) "WHAT!? We were up doin' it all night last night, she cannot be serious. I'm exhausted."
2) "I can't believe she just SAID it like that -- she could have at least hinted!"
3) "I hate it when she intiates, I feel so emasculated"
4) "I had such a crappy day, I don't want to think about anything or do anything, I just want to lay here with my beer and the remote, and try to forget about it.
5) "I have to get up so early tomorrow."

VERY RARELY is it:

6) "God, I'm so turned off by her, she's not pretty, she missed a strip while shaving her leg and now I'm horrified, sex?!?! With that wildabeast!? She's gotta be kidding. Ew. Pass the fritos."

But here is what girlbrain hears, no matter WHAT the circumstances:

"I'm fat. I'm ugly. My boyfriend doesn't like having sex with me, and I might as well go adopt 12 cats and join a convent."

Again, let me explain:

Since from age 18-29, we've been basically conditioned to think that you will nail anything that moves, the INSTANT you DON'T want to nail us, we take it personally. We've heard all your gross stories of bar conquests... of being the wing man and taking one for the team. We've heard that sometimes you creatures are even guilty of having sex with girls you don't even LIKE -- let alone lust after -- simply because it's like eating ice cream -- what's bad ice cream, right!? So the instant you don't want to have sex with us, all reason goes out the window, and we are just... bad ice cream.

Sour, lumpy, and unappealing.

Most marriage / sex counselors would advise a woman to do it anyway, even if not in the mood, because ultimately, once things get heated up, she'll probably BE in the mood really fast (assuming her partner is an attentive lover). With men it doesn't work quite that way - because obviously, um, if things aren't working, they just aren't working and that leaves us with some harsh limitations... which then can lead to embarrassment... which can then lead to further problems. However, I've yet to meet a woman (or at least associate with one!) who would not handle this situation with delicacy and kindness -- if this is a one night stand, that's different... if this is a long term relatoinship?? Guys??! TALK about it.

You're supposed to trust us, after all.

And now, with all this talk of your wood, sprouting wood, and the north woods, it's time for me to go do laundry and pack for our girls weekend... where we'll talk about boys, laugh our asses off, drink wine & build cozy fires with... (wait for it), you guessed it... chopped wood (aaaaaaaaand scene)****.

Sugar and spice,
~jess

*actually, I just really hate the word "horny," because ever since Austin Powers, all I can see in my head is his gross snaggle-tooth and thorny pinkynail being drawn to his mouth. Ew. Or worse, his nipples.** Shudder.
**I hate that word too.
***I think we've made it very clear just what kind of waxing we're doing. And it's definitely not philosophical, although it could be called neurotic.
****Contrary to popular belief, there will not be semi-drunk pillow-fights in our bra and panties*****, but if that's what it takes to get you boys & your wood revved up for our return... fantisize away.
*****I hate this word more than any other word in the english language, other than "moist," so now that we've got that out of the way, I promise never to use any of them again. OH, and slacks. I hate that word. And blouse. Banish them immediately, okay?

Kthxbai!!!

The Hypocrite In Me

I'm currently stuck, stranded, marooned...ahem, snowed in at General Mitchell International Airport in Milwaukee. I like to think that I do some of my best writing in airports since that's where I spend the majority of my time these days.

So, then, kiddies, we've nothing but time together, isn't that lovely?

Let's take a little trot back in time to one of my very first Chick Blog Entries when I got myself hiked up onto my soapbox and read you poor guys up one side and very succinctly down the other regarding spineless and unacceptable break up tactics.
Ay yei yei. Kat, you fucking hypocrite.

I realized the extent of my hypocrisy while having a chat with one of my dearest guy friends about the ways that his girlfriend is trying to get him to be more giving and invested in the relationship. I have to say, she's either not very well-versed with guy-brains or one very wily fox because I don't really understand what she's doing at all. Most recently she's cut him off from sex...(wait for it)... and she's in her 30s!!! How can she do it? I mean I'm horny like a teenage boy and we've seen the sorts of things they'll fuck. How can she can turn away a perfectly good boyfriend??

I digress...

This discussion of her tactics drove me from thinking she was trying to get him back into the swing of things to thinking she was trying to get him to end it with her to spare her the responsibility and the dirty work.

Aha!

And then I got to trot along memory lane of all the horrible things (conscious and sub-conscious) I'd done to get the hell out of a relationship.

1. I became a stark-raving bitch. He earned it, he wouldn't let me end it, kept on weaseling his way back in. Not my fault that I had to treat him like a miscreant.

2. I convinced him to go to a college VERY far away and then said we'd see each other when we could knowing full well that I was just trying to get rid of him. This culminated in a very unsavory Homecoming Dance incident.

3. I don't even know if I can say the last one but let's just say it wasn't very stand up but neither was telling him that being intimate with him was like "fucking my own thumb".

I'm a very bad person. Its a good thing I purge myself of these things via the blog so they don't taint my soul.

So I'm A Bitch, Dump Me Then.

Question for the ladies in the Hizzouse:

How many of you have acted like a complete bitch in hopes that your boyfriend will break up with you thus sparing you the ugly task of being the end-er of the relationship?

I've done it. I just heard about a girl doing it to one of my guy friends (note: she seemingly failed and thus went with the "No Sex For You" route which will likely prove effective in this case). I'm wondering if this is a widespread phenomenon worth exploring or if its just limited to the cowardly.

If its a phenomenon, I'll noodle on it and throw out thoughts/ideas/schemes to debunk the bitch.

-kat

Love Lockdown

This touches a bit on Kat's previous discussion of How To Tell If You're Her Holischmuck, but I feel it bears mentioning.

I have a male friend who went on a second date with a woman he likes -- but already, by the end of date #2, he's got an invitation to meet the friends and be her date at a holiday party.

Two. Dates.

Now, keep in mind, this friend of mine has an entire harem of women he's dating right now -- he basically has his pick of with whom he wants to fish, and whom he wants to cut bait (Okay, I butchered that expression, but I tried, give me some credit. I did so without ending my sentence with a preposition).

There are a few theories here --

1) You two have an honest connection, and you're both comfortable with moving forward. If that's the case, by all mean -- invite away!

2) You're trying to "lockdown" yer man. Bring him as deeply into your world as possible so that he won't want to -- or can't -- get away easily.

3) You like him so much that you want to show him off and impress your friends, family, co-workers, whatever. Understandable (until he dumps you for being A Loony and then you have to explain how you ruined things with The Awesome Guy).

4) It's your first holiday season single, post-breakup, and you're terrified and sad about attending holiday functions sans significant other. (Been there, done that, have the t-shirt -- and my best advice? Get it over with. Like ripping off a band-aid, it's never as bad as you think it will be. In fact, my first holiday season I had post-serious-breakup, I was terrified at the notion of being single, even within my own family. Turns out, it was even better than it had been with my ex, because he just made things SO complicated.)

Here's the bottom line -- women have a tendency to bring a Uhaul to the first date -- we're nesters, by instinct and biology, and for the most part have spent our lives waiting for our partners "light to come on.*" It's said that women get married when they meet the right person, and men get married when the timing is right -- and not a moment before or after, regardless of the person or situation.

Guys, if you're READY for this, then go for it! Go to the holiday parties, meet the girlfriends**... and move forward with the relationship. But a word of advice? If you're NOT ready? Just SAY so... for fuck's sake, we are not as fragile as you all think we are. It's okay to say "Hey, I'm really enjoying getting to know you, and I want to get to know you better, but I don't think I'm quite ready for the "meet the friends" stuff just yet."

There's no need to fake it, make excuses, stop returning phone calls, or fall off planet earth. Just be honest.

(Personally, I don't wanna be doin' that with anybody until we've established exclusivity -- can you imagine how awkward it would be the following Friday, after they've all gaga'd about your guy, when ya'll run into him out on the town... with another woman on his arm? Yikes.)

Women.. make sure your attemps are coming from the right place. I think a lot of women instinctively try to force their way into relationships because they think they HAVE to, or they SHOULD -- it's less about feeling a genuine readiness or genuine interest in BUILDING something real, rather it's about forcing it. Locking it down. There's nothing natural about that, and don't we all really want these things to grow organically? Blossoming because you're both happy and at ease, confident, comfortable, and natural? Not because somebody has forced an ill-fitting object through a poorly-matched space, confining and conforming it into an unnatural setting.

Didn't Kanye say it best?

I’m not lovin' you
Way I wanted to
What I had to do
Had to run from you
I’m in love with you
But the vibe is wrong
And that haunted me all the way home

I'm not lovin' you
Way I wanted to
See I want to move
But can’t escape from you
So I keep it low
Keep a secret code
So everybody else don’t have to know

Sugar and Spice,
~Jess

*yeah, there are going to be lots of Sex and the City references here. Deal with it. I'm a single career gal in my 30s. You do the math.
**hey, if nothing else, you've just met a whole other pack of single women to pluck from if things don't work out with Lockdown Girl.

Let's Talk Turkey.

I don't know about the rest of you, but it's just not a holiday without a hefty dose of crazy family drama! Of course, here in the chickadee lounge, we're a bit more interested in hearing drama about your non-familial women -- c'mon, c'mon, c'mon... I know SOME of you must have some awesome stories. Girlfriend meltdowns? Mother-in-law drama? Fiance freakouts? Not-yet-official-girlfriends who are PO'd that you didn't spend the holidays with them? Alcohol-induced chickbrain overload?

Spill, dudes. Email us at chicksonchicks@gmail.com and show us whatcha got...

Sugar and spice,
~Jess

Anonymous' Question

Anon! Anon! You asked us a question in the comments section and it got totally lost! I'm sorry!

So here's her question:

I had a first date with a guy I met on the Internet on Wednesday. Prior to the date we had spoken on the phone several times and exchanged a few texts. The date went well and at the end of the date as he was dropping me off, he kissed me quite passionately and asked if he could come up. I said no not this time and that I wanted to wait until I got to know him better. He expressed how attractive he found me and that he couldn't wait to see me again. He drove off and I went up to bed. Got a call from him later saying how much he liked me and that he thinks that I am beautiful. The next day (Thursday) I had a short business trip to Las Vegas, just for the day. He knew about this trip. Once on the plane as I reach down to turn my phone off, I realize I don't have my phone. I have left it in the car. Oh well. I am with my boss on the plane and I am still connected to the office through him. I go about my day and fly back. Get in my car and notice 2 texts from him. The first one saying at 8am "Hope you slept well" and the second asking how my flight was at 11am. I respond a telling him about forgetting my phone and explaining my crazy day then asking him how his day was. This text was sent at about 7:30pm. Since that, no word from him. Ok…what's the deal? Should I be thanking my lucky stars that I avoided getting more involved with someone who is clearly a bit crazy OR was he really not that into me? Confused in California

CIC, Can I call you Cack? Just cuz I want to? Cool. Thanks.

I have a story to tell - in its own very special manner - it may also be an answer:

I had a guy friend about 4 years ago that was an AVID match.com'er, we'll call him Himbo. Actually, I think I was on match, saw Himbo and we reconnected on a PURELY platonic level. Here's why: About a week into our daily IM chat sessions (aka novels) he began to admit to a high level of sek-sual activity. Dig, dig, dig, pry, pry, pry. Himbo FINALLY admits that he's slept with nearly every Match.com date he's had in the past years and that although he lost count in the 100s, it's a lot.

WHAT?! Okay, so Himbo is now ManWhoor and I'm CONVINCED that he's trying to impress me with his sexual prowess and virility. Until I get secondary confirmation a la mutal friends that yes, ManWhoor is the dirtiest dick in the greater Minneapolis St Paul area.

Fine. But what about all these loosey goosey ladies that he found himself in compromising positions with? How did he find so many that would be with him, in the biblical sense? Was he really that good at the game? Were they really that horny? (Now that I'm 31 I admit the latter may have been the answer.)

All that above, take what you will from it, but apparently Match.com can be synonymous with AFF.com (don't go there from your work computer) and it sounds to me, Cack, like you got a guy that thought he was on par with ManWhoor.

But that's just me and my charming cynical nature assuming that no guy would ever be that attentive right away without an alterior motive.

Carry on, anon but beware the ManWhoor,
-kat

**FOOTNOTE!! ANON! You said you met him on the "internet" in your question. With today's advanced marketing and technology savvy - there are a few places on the World Wide Web to meet men. As mentioned above, AFF.com is one of those. Can you please (and thank you) provide clarity into the site upon which you found ManWhoor?

No Fairy Tales Here, My Friends

First a few housekeeping Items (Please note: I want to sing out "Housekeeping" in a high pitched sing-songy voice):

*Sorry for the time away from the laptop - I was workasaurus rex last week at a conference and during the 3 free minutes a day I had - I returned calls and emails from my customers. Call me crazy.

*We got an email, a good one I would say and I'll address it below. But not before addressing one of his points - The blog seems to have moved a bit away from its intended purpose and we will try to right the ship by giving guys advice about the inner workings of girls not trying to fix the inner mixed-up workings of you guys. Plus I find crazy chicks way funnier than asshole guys.

So, the letter today was from a guy we'll call Tigger. I won't cut and paste the entirety of the email but it goes a little something like this (again, I want to sing, what the fuck?):

Boy meets two girls. Boy is currently on the metaphorical teeter-totter with two girls. Girls are on polar opposite sides of the spectrum from personality to accessibility - thus boy brain devises scheme in which he gets ass and sass from Girl 1 (whom he aptly names Mulan) and gets intelligence and potential companionship from Girl 2 (whom he, again, aptly names Belle).

Let me give you a quick snippet of a few things I know about these girls and see if cutting out the bullshit makes it more apparent:

Mulan On their very first meeting, Mulan shares religious beliefs, a propensity for swinging, having sex on first dates, past history of her STDs and her love of World of Warcraft. And yet this vixen, doesn't kiss or canoodle on the first date and informs him on date two in a babyvoice that there's no playtime until 5 weeks into the relationship. (God, I'm ITCHING to scream the issues here right now but I need to build up some suspense as best I can)

Belle She cancelled date number one in order to spend the evening with the animal she'd adopted that very day. She then rescheduled the date for later in the same week. She set a time allotment for the date and exceeded it by 3 times and ended it with a kiss on the lips and a thank you text afterwards. She was upfront about her busy schedule and her recent move from out of state. She's been non-commital, yet flirtly, about date #2.

Oh my god, this is too easy.

Tigger, get your fucking head out of your ass on the Mulan front. She's a god-damned nutcase. First of all, she told you she's into swinging and has had STDs and then she won't fuck you for 5 weeks? You can be a lot of things, Tigger, in the name of getting laid but you can't be the science project to see if this chick can shake the Slut Gene. Because you know what? She can't. She flip-flops from being promiscuous with others to being chaste with you. If she was truly trying to clean up her dirty coot she would NEVER EVER tell you about those times. EVER. She sounds like she'd be fun in bed, sure, but depends how much you enjoy open sores and burning urination. Stop the Tigger Train, avoid Mulan Station and save yourself before this gets any further. Jesus.

Now, assuming we're all in agreement that Mulan is firmly in the past, I have a few thoughts on Belle.

I can't remember if I'd written this here on the site or not but I've said it to my guy friends a million times. I think that there are a lot of girls on Match that use it, not to find a boyfriend, but use it to find a date. This can be tough for those guys out there that are honestly hoping for love but in reality, its an online shopping tool and an ego boost wrapped in one. I think that maybe Belle is one of these girls (not a slam by the by, I've been this girl too) and here is why:

*She's newly moved to town from out of state. Why? Who was there? Why didn't he come? I think women often times undertake massive life changes after massive heartbreak. I'm not even the giving sort and I filled out a Peace Corps application once. Big moves, big changes can often relate to big breakups. NOT ALWAYS, I know, but sometimes...

*She's a workaholic. So are Jess and I, but we still make time for the man we want to see when we want to see him. My thoughts are she's got up her defenses and fences for that matter and usually that's due to protection of thine fragile heart.

*She just adopted a pet. Many times feline or canine love is just want the doctor ordered.

I'm merely reading beneath the surface here but my thoughts are that Belle is rebuilding her world. So tread carefully, give her space, keep you fingers crossed that you'll see her again but don't stop dating girls (other than Mulan) until you get a clearer picture from her.

So Tigger, I hope that helps. If not, tell 'Roo and Piglet to come over and we'll have some beers.

Bounce on,
-kat

Rescue Me

I guess the one request / requirement / piece of advice I forgot to mention throughout my many diatribes lately is one that I didn't even thought bore repeating: don't be rude.

This past weekend, I was absolutely blown away by the rudeness of a man I went on a date with -- and I'm still so stunned speechless by it that I don't even know how to detail it out, other than to say, he won't be getting so much as a returned text message from me ever again, and it's pretty easy to lose complete interest in somebody when they act like such a jackass. His number / email address were deleted from my crackberry before the door hit me in the ass on the way out.

Let me repeat in case you missed it the first time: Don't be rude.

And I don't buy any argument that you didn't know it was rude. Unless you are feral or were raised by wolves, you know the difference between good and bad manners, common courtesy and jackhole behavior. Because you've at least FAKED IT well enough to get to the point of an in-person meeting (and actually, this was a SECOND date).

We do have feelings, you know.

And no matter how confident, charming, ballsy, funny, and strong we may appear, underneath it all, we're just girls. Girls who like a boy and are hoping he likes us back. When you cut me, I still bleed. It still smarts when the cute boy doesn't like me, and even though the next day I might crack up about it with my girlfriends, and write funny/scathing emails to my co-workers, in that moment -- sitting at the bar, with my tail tucked between my legs, it hurts. In 24 hours, it won't be a big deal, but in the moment? Ouch.

Don't be rude.

Luckily, my evening had a happy ending, the kind that can only come from being rescued by a friend, somewhat of a knight in shining armour... one that has clearly been reading up and taking notes. The stench of Bad Date was quickly washed away.

Sugar and spice,

~Jess

Question of the Day

Question of the day --

How do guys just FORGET to call?

I think that this is a myth. I think "I forgot" or "I got busy" is guycode for "I just really don't like you that much."

Yet... lately I've been hearing this gripe from the world of online dating.

"We guys have to make all the moves. Why is it so one sided? Why don't the women ever initiate?"

Uhhhh... wellllllllllllllllllll.

I don't know about you ladies, but personally, I like to be chased a bit. I touched on this in our original response to Tony, Toni, Tone, and I'll say it again -- when did all the men become women? I spend most of my life making decisions, having choices, being forceful and strong, courageous and bold... managing my house, my dog, my career, my finances, my car, and STILL managing to look cute and have dinner on the table (even if it's just for me).

When it comes to my love life -- or at least the first few dates of it -- I want YOU to come after ME.

Repeat:
I WANT YOU TO COME AFTER ME.

If you don't, I'll assume you're not interested. It's just that simple. And frankly, I've dated enough to know that when you DON'T have that chase? Ahem, boys?

You get bored really damn fast.

It's like we've gotta keep you on your toes or you get distracted by a bright shiny new object.

(aka, T & A).

Don't disappear to The Island of Lost Men, only to half-assedly reappear -- case in point, I got an email today from a guy I'd totally written off. We went out a week and a half ago, had what I thought was a great time and a promising connection, exchanged several texts over the next few days, and then...........

~crickets~

He totally went dark. Complete radio silence. Until tonight -- when I get an email:

"How's it going? Thought you'd enjoy a couple of pictures from the show I went to. Hope you're doing well."

Uhhhhhh.

I don't even know what to do with that. Men? Women? I'm curious as to your thoughts. What do I DO with that? Is that an invitation to restart the courting process? Just a conversation? Did he really think I wanted 2 lame pictures of the stage of a show I wasn't it, put on by a band I've never heard of and don't give a shit about? And if it IS supposed to be a gateway back into a second date, then how about, "Hey, wanna go out this weekend?"

Does. Not. Compute.



I really wish somebody could explain this phenomenon to me of wishy washyness. And how much should we women indulge this? I mean, is it really as simple as "man as hunter goes after what he wants, if he doesn't go after it, he doesn't want it"? Or are there mitigating circumstances?


Disinterested, or douchebag?

Discuss.

Sugar and spice (with vodka this time, please)
~Jess

A Single Gal's Advice

It's been The Kat Show for a couple of days around here -- apparently one side affect of my profound Seasonal Affect Disorder is the inability to be funny. I have a few dating theories and thoughts about Mars & Venus I'd like to test out, but I don't think right now is the appropriate time. So for now, hot off the dating scene, you get some advice from a tried and true single gal.

1) Call when you say you're going to call. If you say "I'll call you on Sunday," that's what I thnk is happening. I know that in your guybrain, that means "Eh, I"ll call you sooner or later, whenever I'm thinking about it," but in my girlbrain, it means I'm scheduled into your PDA. If you don't want to call me, don't say you're going to call. Once you set expectations, I start to wonder why those expectations aren't being met. So do us all a favor, and be accountable.

As somebody wise once wrote:

"Calling when you say you're going to is the very first brick in the house you're building of love and trust. If he can't lay this one stupid brick down, you aint never gonna have a house baby. And it's cold outside."

1a) If we've had sex, by all means, you need to call me within the next 24 hours, or you are a certifiable douchebag, and I'll probably never speak to you (let alone sleep with you) again. If I DO have such little self-respect to grace you with the pleasure of my company after such douchebaggery, then frankly, I deserve to be treated a little bit like crap. Men -- a quality woman won't even respond to this type of behavior. If you're looking at vetting out a possible long-term relationship, you've done so right there.

Alas, we teach others how to treat us.

2) Pick the restaurant. Better yet, pick a couple and let me choose... it makes me feel like I'm getting to go somewhere of my choosing, but it prevents me from having to do the mental rundown and stress about where YOU'D like to go. Ideally, have this picked out before you even pick up the phone to call (and yes, I said call -- none of that texting garbage -- we covered that a few days ago). Nobody likes the awkward "Uh, I dunno, where od you want to go?" If I can offer you one word of advice, it's to talk to a female friend or relative approximately your age, and ask her for THREE suggestions of good first date spots for dinner/ drinks. Keep those in your arsenal. Shit, put them on speed dial. You'll look like a rock star every time you need a reservation, and with that trifecta of hot spots in your palm, you'll always have a good suggestion for a first date.

3) Open the door, take her coat, pay the bill. Sigh. I don't really care whether or not a guy opens doors for me, but what I HATE is when the guy doesn't GET to the door fast enough to open it for me, but then does that "chivalric guy fumble," where he tries to get to the door before me. Either I stand there in front of the door, not opening it and looking like a dumbass, or I fling it open in such a way that your manhood is compromised and you think "damn, she won't even let me open the door." Be one step ahead. Help me take my coat off and on -- it's sweet. And a firm hand on the middle / lower back as you let me walk ahead of you while the hostess seats us... well, that just sends chills down my spine.

And the bill comes. Fellas, this one just isn't up for discussion. It's the first date. PAY. Do not let me. I'll offer, and if you let me, I'll split it with you without hesitation, but on the first date, or th first FEW dates... PAY THE BILL. Trust me, this will always make you look good. After several dates, she'll probably start reciprocating or splitting it with you (or at least, I will, and most of my girlfriends will as well). If she doens't... then it's up to you how to proceed. Either you decide she's a golddigger and dump her, or you talk about it, or you happily keep picking up the check knowing that she's the best investment you've ever made.

4) Let me help you too. I think it's awesome that there are men in my life who will clean my gutters, mow the lawn, insulate my attic, and hang the curtains if necessary. Truthfully, I can do most of that stuff myself, I'd just rather not. That said, I take great pride and joy in the girlie aspects of my life (clothing, cooking, home decor, entertaining), and as the woman in your life, I want to help you with that stuff. One of the most wonderful things a past boyfriend once asked me to do was to help him grocery shop in such a way that he could make healthy food at home. YES! Just like you like to show love by doing things for me, I like to show love (and feel very appreciated!) when you let me share my knowledge and abilities as well.

5) Tell me I'm pretty. Or beautiful. Sometimes I want to be told I'm hot, sexy, incredible... but nothing warms my heart like the word pretty. And nothing makes me feel more confident around you than knowing you are happy to have me on your arm. That confidence, in turn, makes me a lot more fun to be around, and a lot less crazy when we're not together.

That's all I've got for tonight -- The Office is on, and it's hard to write about romance with a 46" Michael Scott holding up a blue satin eye pillow on pause on my TiVo.

Check back later this week for thoughts on my Sexistential Crisis, Sexpectations, and The Singlehood Bell Curve.

Sugar and spice,

~Jessica

How Is She NOT Crazy?

As I sit here in yet another airport, during yet another week on the road, I find that I'm experiencing an irritation that may very well make me crazy. Its one of those irritating, grating things that starts in the middle of your stomach with a clenching and an unscratchable itch. Its progresses to the point where you have to flex and unflex various parts of your body in hopes of releasing the tension that is building in your entire being. Deep breaths, lean your head back, close your eyes, clench, unclench, clench, unclench. My breathing is getting shallower, I'm starting to hit what feels like a breaking point...I might whack my own head against the trash can next to me or I may just scream at the guy to my left.

Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, sluuuurp, smack, chomp. His gum chewing is so loud and so wet and so pervasive (flex and unflex fingers, didn't help) that I can't escape it. I moved to the only other free seat, about 5 seats away. Still hear it. Chomp, chomp, chomp, spit sloshing, chomp. ARG.

"The housing crisis really seems to be causing problems." (Genius at work)

"Really, $15 for checking my bag. I fly your airline all the time, this is ridiculous!" (Ahem, close your mouth, you don't fly it all the time, if you did you'd be elite and you wouldn't have to pay, shut up)

"Sweetie, don't worry about forgetting your jacket, we'll just buy another when we land." (Really but you can't afford $15 to check your bag?)

"Chomp, slurp, smack, swallow, chomp, chomp, chomp!"

This woman next to him seems completely oblivious to the fact that she's sitting next to the world's loudest gum-chewing IDIOT ass.

How is she NOT crazy? Is she numb? Is she deaf?

Can I say something like "Shut the fuck up"?

I wish you could see him. Let me paint the picture if I can.

He's sitting stretching all 5'6" of himself as long as he can, hands clasped behind his balding noggin, old school glasses a la Chevy Chase in Vacation, bushy beard and mustache (that I'm hoping his gum gets stuck in), navy suit with a tie on, tie falling sadly to the side of his enormous belly, feet stretched long out in front (blocking the way for anyone who might want to pass), dress pants far too short, bad loafers, argyle socks.

He makes me want to kill myself to get out of my misery. And yet the woman sitting next to him stays there. Is likely his mate...

I guess there is someone for everyone in this world.

CHOMP, CHOMP ARGGGGGGGGGGGGG

Clench clench clench...