Progress for a New Year

I posted this one year ago on 

New Years Eve...

And I was thinking that this year was pretty much the same thing in the realm of romance and my life.

But then I was thinking that all we can really hope for year after year is that we progressed in some way. That we learned something about ourselves, that we are progressing, and that we are living the lives that we hope to live more fully.

From 2005-2009 I averaged one date a year.

In 2010, after starting my online "experiment," I had about 12 first dates. I never had any second dates, but that is exponential growth in numbers!

Then in 2011 I had around 14 dates. 

And 10 of them were with the SAME person!  

I sadly no longer spend time with said person...

But still... 

This is progress.

Happy 2012.

Walking in a Winter Wonderland

He'll say, "Are you married?"

I'll say, "No, man!...

 But you can do the job when you're in town!"

Merry Christmas

Family Christmas Card

My last few posts have been a little deep.

Let's lighten it up, shall we? 

If I was like most people, I would be getting ready to send out a Christmas Card.

Me and Manny just took this photo 

to send together- 

Our First Official Family Christmas photo. 

(say that 5 times fast. really. try it.)

You can't tell that Manny is a little camera shy, but let's just say, blood was drawn. Holding the title for the Craziest Cat in America means that being held is strictly taboo. Look at those dilated pupils. Also, not the best angle. Oh well. When you are taking a self portrait on your laptop camera, this is the best you can get. 


Also, a sidenote for my readers. The woman that gave the lipgloss advice also said in an interview that she really thinks the celebrity couple that is going to make it is Ashton and Demi... 


Back to the drawing board. 

Believe

It was only a few years ago that one of my nieces learned THE TRUTH.

That Santa Clause, Kris Kringle, Father Christmas, Papa Noel, Sinterklaas- isn’t real.

GASP!!

(I’m sorry if I just spoiled anything for any of you.)

She was an avid believer. 

She believed with her whole entire being.

When she was 11 and Christmas was around the bend, she was having a conversation with my sister and her siblings about what all the kids wanted for Christmas.

“I want a DS-i,” She said.

“Well, dear, those are kind of expensive. I’m not sure if we can afford that this year. Is there anything else you may want?” my sister asked.

“Oh, Mom,” she said, in the condescending tone only an 11 year old girl can have. “Don’t worry about it. You can get me something cheaper. That is fine. I’ll just ask Santa for a DS-i. That is what my best friend did last year, and it totally worked!! She got exactly what she wanted! Santa will take care of it.” 

“I’m sorry....What?” my sister asked, dumbfounded.

“Santa will take care of it.”  Case closed.

My sister turned to her other, older daughter. “Is she kidding?”

The 14 year old shrugged.

They were both astounded. They assumed that at her age, she would know The Truth. Neither of them had spilled the beans, but don’t such things come up at school? What were these kids talking about at recess?  Nobody else had told her?!  

As it came closer and closer to Christmas, it was apparent that she really meant it. 

She really believed that Santa was going to bring her that present.

And so my sister did what any rational parent would do.  

She told the 14 year old: “You have to tell her.”

So bless her heart, she did. She sat her sister down on her bed and said she had to tell her something important. 

“Santa Clause isn’t real. 

There is no North Pole. 

No Reindeer. 

No Elves...

And he is not going to bring you the DS-i.”

At first she didn’t believe her. Why would her sister play such a cruel joke on her? Of course Santa is real. 

When she finally realized she was being told the truth, she was absolutely devastated. Her parents were both called into the room, and between heartbroken sobs were accused of being deceitful liars.  They always taught her how important it was to tell the truth, but here they had been lying to her for more than a decade. 

This also brought up new questions. 

The Easter Bunny? 

The Tooth Fairy? 

ALL of them!!?!?!?

She moped about for days.

I went to their house, and was informed that the proverbial bomb had been dropped. She didn’t want to talk about it at all, so all I did was put my arms out. She ran into them, and we hugged, and it was all I could do while I held her to not break down myself. Her little world was shattered. 

Sometimes, as a 32 year old single lady, I feel a little bit like my niece that Christmas. Clinging to a silly belief. 

With each online subscription and subsequent emails/texts/dates, I feel like I’m asking for a DS-i. Sure it seems incredibly unlikely, given my track record. Until trying the online dating scene, for the last decade my male interaction was slim to none. 

But if you just believe, then it will happen, right?

I’m sure my niece had some doubts. She knew there were incongruencies in the logistics of how Santa worked. But it worked for her friend. Her friend got just what she had asked for the previous year. 

Magic can explain how it all works, but with the absence of magic in the day to day, she must have questioned why this would be the exception.

But she hoped for magic.

For the most part, my romantic life has been absent of magic in the day to day.  

It’s hard to conceptualize the reality of something that is that distant, that foreign.

Me having a real relationship seems as incredulous as Old Saint Nick coming down my chimney.

I want there to be an exception in my life. 

The absence of magic everyday can’t mean that magic isn’t possible. 

I hope for the magic.

Some days are incredibly positive. I really believe.  I go to the North Pole in my mind and I really hear that bell ringing (Polar Express, anyone?).

And some days I’m just waiting for someone to sit me down and tell me The Truth- the truth that everyone already knew, but just didn’t want to dash my hopes and say: that maybe it just isn’t going to happen.

But still I hope for the magic.

And so I put myself out there. More than most of you even know. I was advised to have no regrets, and so in the last several months I tried to do that. I pushed myself out of my comfort zone and then some. It seems to have backfired terribly (when you tell someone, “hey, you take the lead,” and then you never hear from them again, I’m thinking that’s not too promising a sign).

But still I hope for the magic.

If there is one thing I know about the Holiday Season it is that it brings magic.

And dammit, I still have all that lipgloss. 

Lip Gloss

I was sitting in my house the other night, eating raw cookie dough, and watching Anne of Green Gables. More specifically, it was Anne of Avonlea, (thank you PBS pledge drive!!) and I watched the whole stupid thing (let’s be honest, part 2 isn’t the best) just so I could see Anne Shirley and Gilbert Blythe finally confess their love and kiss at the end, on the bridge. 

Besides realizing what a total and complete cliche my life had become in that moment, (I was eating the raw cookie dough, with my cat sitting in my lap, and after that I watched Pride and Prejudice!! I know, I was disgusted by my own actions. I was just in that type of mood.) it made me wonder what is it about us as humans that we are always compelled towards that happy romantic ending.

It is a necessity in all the best stories.  

“And they lived Happily Ever After.”

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince is my favorite of the series- why? (well, why aside from the reason that Dumbledore figures prominently, and we all know I have an affinity for gay men.) Because of the whole Harry/Ginny saga! I mean when he finally kisses her after the last Quidditch match!! I die every time!! (yes, we all know I’m that nerdy...)

It carries the plot of practically every great sitcom.

Tony and Angela.

Ross and Rachel.

Jim and Pam.

I cried in the last episode of Parks and Recreation because Leslie and Ben said they loved each-other! (again, cliche to beat all cliches... during this one I was eating a bag of Doritos).

If I could have my money refunded for every stupid rom-com I’ve gone to see- opening weekend, no less- I could take that month long Mediterranean Cruise I’ve always dreamed of. 

We all have the need to validate our assumption that love triumphs over all.

Tomorrow yet another online dating site subscription will expire. 

I am not too keen on renewing it. 

Are you holding out as a reader because you know me, and find me quasi-entertaining? 
Because you have the false assumption that a single life is glamorous and interesting? 
Because you, too, are single, and you feel validated and understood?

Because you can’t wait to hear about the latest train wreck of a date I went on? 

No. You are ALL waiting for that romantic ending. You endure through my posts, like me sitting through Anne of Avonea, to get to the good part. The triumphant ending. 

There is a new reality dating show on VH1 called “Why am I still single?” It caught my attention for obvious reasons. The one tip that the dating coach gave- multiple times- was for girls to wear lip gloss. 

No joke, this is what was in my purse today. ALL of these.

So I'm thinking that my own happy ending isn't that far off. Online Dating be damned, I have a lot of lip gloss. 

So grab your Doritos and Cookie Dough- I'm pretty sure the ending of this story is going to be a doozie.

THANKFUL

THANKFUL

THESE ARE A FEW 

OF THE MANY THINGS 

I AM THANKFUL FOR...

I AM THANKFUL FOR MY FRIEND KALEB WHO SAW A PLAY WITH ME AFTER I ASKED THREE DIFFERENT GUYS TO GO WITH ME 

AND GOT TURNED DOWN EVERY TIME. 

(REALLY, UNIVERSE?? REALLY?!?! 

I'M OPENING MYSELF UP TO YOU, AND YOU JUST KICK ME IN THE FACE. RIDICULOUS, THAT'S WHAT IT IS) 

SIDE NOTE, BEFORE ANYONE GETS TOO EXCITED- 

KALEB IS 11 YEARS MY JUNIOR, AND I AM HIS BOSS. 

BUT HE IS GREAT.

I AM THANKFUL FOR THE DUMBEST BUT FLUFFIEST CAT 

WHO WAS APPARENTLY TRYING TO CONTRIBUTE 

TO THE BLOG THAT BEARS HIS NAME.

I'M THANKFUL FOR DIET COKE, 

WITHOUT WHICH NONE OF THIS WOULD BE POSSIBLE. 

THESE ARE ALL MINE FROM WORK TODAY. 

I DON'T DISCRIMINATE WHERE I PURCHASE MY DIET COKE FROM, 

AS YOU CAN TELL.

AND FINALLY, I'M THANKFUL THAT WHEN "THE DRESS" 

THAT I REALLY WANTED IS PERHAPS NOT FOR SALE ANYMORE 

AND I WAS INCREDIBLY A LITTLE BIT SAD ABOUT IT, 

(HERE'S TO HOPING IT GOES BACK TO THE MARKET REAL SOON)

 THAT MY COUSIN/BFF ENCOURAGED ME TO DO SOME RETAIL THERAPY 

AND BUY A REAL DRESS.

 AND I'M THANKFUL THAT THIS COINCIDED WITH ANTHROPOLOGIE HAVING A BLACK FRIDAY DOORBUSTER OF 50% OFF ALL SALE. 

I WAITED IN LINE FOR 45 MINUTES TO GET THIS SUCKER. 

BUT IT DOES LOOK GOOD WITH THE RED TIGHTS, DON'T YOU THINK? 

You know when you see a dress you just love?** 

Let’s say it’s from Anthropologie. And you see this dress in the window often. You’ve gone into the store and tried the dress on more times than you can count. And when you put on that dress you feel invincible- you feel beautiful, and powerful, and you know it makes a statement. It hugs your figure in all the right places, and compliments you to a tee. The employees in the store recognize you, and they smile when you come in. Maybe you even go put in on hold. But they only hold things for 24 hours, and you let the time lapse.

And let’s say that perhaps the dress is out of your price range. You walk around the store for an hour holding the dress, contemplating how you wont have cause to even wear it for awhile, but it is the sort of thing you would see in your closet and smile for having. But you can’t decide if it is worth what the price tag says, and you don’t buy it.

Yet, you still want to own a new dress, so you go to other stores. 

Maybe you go to TJMaxx, or Ross, or (gasp!) the Dress Barn. And you find a few dresses and you try them on. They are fine. They are reasonably priced, and they fit o.k. You maybe even buy one of them. But it just sits in your closet, and you put it on in the morning, but then take it back off because it just isn’t that interesting. You feel ho-hum in these dresses. None of these dresses seem quite right, because you’ve already tried on THE dress. 

So you go and return the TJ/Ross/Dress Barn dress.

And you still think of that other fabulous dress. 

I went on a date this weekend. He was an encounter from the website, and was nice enough. He also giggled like a 12 year old girl, and doesn’t have a job, and hasn’t had a real job- ever, and informed me that he is being deployed to Afghanistan with the National Guard for the next year. 

We met up at the Old Spaghetti Factory, and I was able to go to American Apparel afterwards, and buy these tights:

So all was not completely lost. 

(yes, those are RED tights, and yes that is Manny's but).

All I can think is that the red tights would go incredibly well with that one dress.


**Apparently, people weren't getting that the dresses were metaphors. This is a blog about dating, friends. Dresses= boys. See how that works? So now- do you hold out for the great dress?

Dumbledore

On the dating site I am patronizing, you can put a quote by your profile that people will see alongside your picture. 

This is my quote:

"Let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure."

I also have this picture up with my profile.

I had a really cute guy write to me, and ask where the great quote came from.

I answered, and said, "The quote came from none other than the amazing Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, chief Wizard of the Wizengamot, and one of the greatest literary characters ever."

Are you shocked that I never heard from him again? 

Are you shocked that I even do online dating?

Hope you all enjoyed watching the last in the Harry movie installments this past weekend, with it's DVD release. I know I did. 

Sometimes I get this song stuck in my head:

 

Again, aren't you shocked that I'm online?

ROI

ROI

We talk a lot about a Return On Investment (ROI) at my job. 

Are you getting a good enough return for the energy and resources you are investing in any given project?

This has caused me to think about my Dating ROI. 

Most of my past, and rather large, investments had little to no return.

• My marathon crush in Junior High, where I think we spoke all of two times, but I loved him for 2 years.
• Writing a guy letters for 2 full years in High School, back and forth, and then having one date with him.
• Spending 2 full years in college with the same friend, thinking that all of a sudden we would miraculously be more than just friends. (We didn’t). 
• Spending about 2 years, and who knows how much money (that I would much rather be spending elsewhere) on online dating subscriptions with little to show for it. 

(I’m actually sensing a theme in my time investments- 2 years!! No wonder I’m still single...)

Looking up the idea of ROI on Wikipedia gave me this:

And just looking at that gave me this:

Sorry about that.

So anyways...

This week’s Newsweek had a cover story called “Money Brain: The New Science Behind Your Spending Addiction.”  

This cover spoke to me for obvious reasons... 

The basic idea is that the brain is wired differently for people who want instant gratification versus those who plan and save, specifically in parts of the brain that “predict consequences.”  Those who are savers are those who can see long term benefits more- they see the future rewards.

They say that people who are spenders, not savers, are “neither stupid nor irrational [Thank you, Newsweek!!] but often simply don’t accurately foresee the consequences of not saving.”  

“Rewire the brain to find pleasure in future rewards,” Newsweek says, “and you’re on the path to a future you really want.” 

A professor at Claremont Graduate School (shout out, mama!! That’s where her PhD is from!) says that “If you defer gratification, the pay off can be greater than with immediate gratification... But your brain has to learn that.”  He also says that “a squirt of the hormone oxytocin- known as the “love hormone” because of the role it plays in pair bonding and maternal behavior- makes people more patient.” 

Reading this article, I’ve realized that my brain’s ventral striatum and medial prefrontal cortex are, obviously, not wired for instant gratification in matters of the heart. Over the years it has learned to wait, and I am wired to see the future rewards when it comes to love. I see that certain special someone,that Oxytocin comes a pumping into my blood stream, and BOOM- I can wait out anything.

And perhaps that is why I have absolutely no self control when it comes to my shopping addictions. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction, after all. I may not be able to wait for that sweater at Anthropologie, but when it comes to a man, my patience is staggering. 

It may just be my ventral striatum talking here, but I think that future love payoff- when I do finally get it- is going to be amazing.