WORST VALENTINE'S DAY EVER

 

As soon as I start to see red and pink in stores (which practically happens New Year's Day!) a growing sense of dread starts welling up in my stomach. At first I try to avoid thinking about Valentine's Day altogether, rationalizing it's only January and anything could happen in a month. However, as the dreaded "V-Day" grows nearer, I can feel the internal count-down ticking in my head, and I find myself wishing I could hide out somewhere or just sleep through the entire day as if it never existed. My only hope (in reality), however, is that the overly commercialized, über amped-up, disgustingly sappy holiday will pass by as quickly as possible so I can go on with my normal life for another 364 days in which I am a happy, functioning, single (i.e. "non-married") adult--without being forced to feel like a complete loser for not being in a relationship on this one specific day per year.

However, there is a small silver lining in the ominous rainclouds that regularly hover over my otherwise happy February. For me, the only good thing about Valentine's Day, in general, is that it can't get any worse. 

 

Here is the story of my worst Valentine's Day ever...

                                                                                   * * *

As I drove the streets of my neighborhood aimlessly, I realized the last thing I wanted to do was go home. It was only about 7 p.m. and I certainly hadn't planned on getting home this early--especially on Valentine's Day night! The guy I was dating at the time had invited me over for a romantic dinner at his place.  Things having gone hopelessly awry, I found myself headed back home to spend the evening alone.

I dialed up a friend who lived a few blocks away.

"Hailey?" I said. "It's me. What are you up to?" I could hear noisy ruckus in the background as my friend answered her phone. 

Hailey immediately knew I had been crying. "What's wrong!?" She asked without skipping a beat.

"Brad broke up with me," I sniffed.

"Oh, no!" my sympathetic friend exclaimed. "Where are you? Come over! I'm having a party at my place.  Come on, it will be fun."

I wasn't really in the mood for a party, tear-stained face and all, but anything was better than going home.   Alone.  On Valentine's Day.

"I don't know..." I stammered. I didn't want to bring the lively atmosphere of the party down with my melancholy mood.

"Don't go home!" My friend commanded. "You're coming over," she said firmly.

It sounded like I didn't have much of a choice, so I parked my car (I was already driving down her street when I called), and joined the anti-Valentine's Day party. Not wanting to show up empty handed, I brought the expensive chocolates I had just been given by my "ex" (that is...before he gave me the boot!).

The impromptu singles' "party" was comprised of a small group of close friends.  Every week, about 5-10 of us would get together for a TV-show viewing party and potluck. It was the same group tonight, so I knew everyone there and didn't feel too bad about telling them what had just happened.  I was still clutching the glossy red gift bag, and everyone in the room was eager to scrutinize my break-up gift, so I plopped the box of chocolates on the table.

"Open them!" one girl shouted. "Let's see what's inside!"

We all circled around the table. The fancy chocolates were from a well-known local chocolatier who's Yelp reviews hail the shop's offerings as "the world's finest." As I lifted the lid, everyone hovered, leaning over to peer down into the box lined with rows and rows of the most exquisite hand-made truffles. They were individual pieces of art, each decorated with a unique and intricate hand-pained design, some even etched in gold-leaf.

Are these even edible?  we wondered.  No one dared to take one, instead we all just stared dumbfounded. The tiny truffles were simply too gorgeous to eat, so we set the box aside for later, and in the meantime, somebody brought out a flight of brightly-colored pomegranate shots instead. Despite the fact it was Sunday evening, the festivities continued as if it were a Saturday night, complete with red and pink martinis, blaring music, and a mini dance party.

The next morning I woke up on Hailey's couch wearing her pajamas, and I greatly doubt anyone at the party made it to work on time that day. It occurred to me this was the second time this year I would do "the walk of shame" in a girlfriend's pajamas--and it was only February!   So far, my year was not off to a good start.

As I gathered my belongings, I noticed the pristine box of chocolates still sitting on the coffee table in front of me. So before I left that morning, I made a point of squishing the sides of every single designer truffle--just to see what was inside. The experience was surprisingly cathartic. In a symbolic gesture, I tossed the mangled mess of chocolate (an ironic remnant of a relationship gone bad) into the trash and washed the sticky remains off my hands.  By the time I left Hailey's apartment, I was over the whole ordeal and ready to start a new day.
 

Valentine's Day can only get better from here, right?  ;)

 

Coffee Shop Proposal

I never cease to be amazed by the number of crazy conversations, emails and phone calls I get myself into thanks to this life-changing "frog blog."  Here's one of the most memorable...

I had no idea what I was in for when I sat down with my 16-oz. paper cup filled with steaming hot tea at the wobbly little table on the patio outside the coffee shop.  A good friend, who I hadn’t seen in a while, called me up after my dating blog hit the mainstream (by way of The Huffington Post) and insisted we meet for coffee the following week.

He started off by quizzing me about the article.  “That was really good,” he said bluntly.  “How long have you been working on it?” 

“Well, I actually wrote the first version a couple months ago, then revised it for The Post when they called.”

“How many times did you rewrite it?” 

What’s going on here?  I haven’t seen this guy in almost a year and he’s grilling me on my writing techniques?!  “Uh…” I stammered, “I guess two or three times.”

He looked surprised.  “I was sure you were going to say 15.”  (That was his form of a compliment, by the way.)  He went on, “But then…I guess you have experience.” 

I hope we're still talking about writing!  But now I'm not so sure. What’s he getting at anyway?

Then he hit me with it:  “What about us?”

Huh?

“Why couldn’t we get married?”

WHAT?!?!  Seriously?  Am I really having this conversation?  I tried to down play the intensity of the topic.  I smiled and laughed a little, “You know why!  Haven’t we had this conversation before?” I said jokingly.

Just to give you some background on the friend sitting across from me.  We’ve known each other for years and our mutual friends constantly tease us about our platonic “chemistry.”  Perhaps it’s because they’ve never met a guy in Los Angeles who wants to get married as badly as this one—only he can’t seem to find the right girl.  Ironically, my friends would probably say the exact same thing about me, only in the reverse.  So there you have it, we are two traditional types stuck in a vastly non-traditional town looking for Mr./Miss Right.  Everyone seems to think it’s a match made in heaven--and apparently this guy does too!

He goes on with his “proposal” (for lack of a better word)... 

“We would live in Bel Air Crest." 

“But I like Brentwood.”

“Has to be a gated community,” he responds flatly.

“Well…would our kids go to private school?”

“Of course.”

[DING! DING! DING!  He’s starting to score points.]

“Christie, I know you’re a traditional woman.  You could stay at home with the kids.  You wouldn’t have to work.”

That didn’t actually sound as appealing to me as I thought it would.  So I counter by saying, "Well, I’d still like to work—from home.”

“You could do that, but you’d have to cook and clean.”

WHAT?!

“I’m fine with cooking but we’re getting a housekeeper…and a nanny.”

“Housekeeper’s fine.  No nanny for my kids.”

Fair enough.  “Deal.” 

What am I saying?!  I still can’t believe I’m negotiating my future--at Starbucks!--with a guy I’ve never actually been out on a date with.  This is (kind of) strangely cool in a way...

“Wait, you’ve forgotten something,” I manage to sputter.  (The most important thing.)  “Church or synagogue?”

“Definitely the temple.”

“Too bad…my family is going to church on Sundays.”

Ah, well.  So close.  Who wants to live in Bel Air Crest, anyway?

Book Review: The Law of Happiness

I just finished my third reading (yes, it was that good) of Dr. Henry Cloud's The Law of Happiness, and though the book pertained to general principles of happiness, I want to share a few insights related to dating and finding love.

According to Dr. Cloud (whom I had the pleasure of meeting last month):

HAPPY PEOPLE DON'T COMPARE THEMSELVES 

Men's View of Women: [THIS IS FOR THE LADIES]

"So many women feel insecure about their bodies, their clothes, their hair, their homes, and everything else, because they compare themselves to women on television and in magazines, to celebrities, and with other data that our media-obsessed culture bombards them with.  They are always reading the latest about what is sexy, beautiful, or stylish, and then they feel they are worthless because they do not look like the latest waif on the cover of some magazine.  They cannot even enjoy themselves as they are always second-guessing their style or status in relation to others'.

Yet men do not look at them that way.  A woman's attractiveness to a man has little to do with how much she looks like the magazine models.  It has much more to do with her personhood, energy, and personality.  It has to do with how much she is being "her" and not someone else.  Women who are comfortable with themselves are way more attractive to men than the ones who are trying to be like someone in a magazine."   [Emphasis mine.]   (What do I always say, ladies?  Beauty comes from within!)

Women's View of Men: [THIS IS FOR THE GUYS]

"Men often think that women care about how much money they make, their status, or other symbols of success.  While most women do want a man who actually has a job and provides, the good women do not care much about the external symbols of power.  They care much more about the personal and interpersonal strength that a man brings to their relationship.  If he is confident, pursues her without fear, takes initiative in taking care of her needs, and is secure in himself, he will be attractive to a woman."  [Ladies, can I get an "amen"?!]

"And, note to men:  if she needs the biggest house on the block or the red Ferrari, he should run the other way."  [Ok, guys, now it's your turn cheer.  By the way, I didn't write this stuff.  I'm just the messenger.]

For more from Dr. Cloud on finding love, read How to Get a Date Worth Keeping.  It's listed on my bibliography and one of the best books I've ever read on dating. 

Home for Christmas

In the past month, I've heard from a total of FIVE ex-boyfriends out of the blue--none of which I'd been in contact with regularly--which started me thinking...What is it out the holiday season that makes singles so skittish without a "plus 1"? Is it the annoying prodding and interrogation of married relatives that makes us so uncomfortable, or is it the palpable reminders of the desire for one’s own family that make the holidays a little more bitter than sweet?  

I know for me, the worst part of the season is being an only child, especially when all of my cousins are either married with kids or in a serious relationship. In fact, one year, what I call the "Bridget Jones Syndrome" was so overwhelming, I absconded to Colorado to spend the holidays with my cousin’s family just so I wouldn't have to hang with my parents while all of my relatives snuggled with their sweethearts under the mistletoe.

I'm not sure what's worse, sitting at the kiddie table or having every single relative pull you to the side and whisper, "So are you seeing anyone?" or "Are you still doing online dating?"  Best of all was my great grandmother, Grace (God rest her soul). I've mentioned her before on my blog. She's the one who proceeded to put lipstick on as the paramedics wheeled her away on a gurney (ahh, yes, a woman after my own heart).  She even snagged her second husband well into her 60's--at a wedding for crying out loud!  Anyhow, as soon as she had a moment alone with me, good ol' Grandma Grace would say candidly, "So, honey, do you have a boyfriend yet?" YET! This question went on into my late 20's until she passed away, and that word, “yet,” just kept ringing in my ears and burning a hole in my heart.

You see, in great grandma’s day it was unthinkable that an attractive girl should remain single well into her 20's and even 30's. In fact, I once had a conversation with my roommate (whom I happened to meet on the high school cheerleading squad) about this.  We both agreed our grandmothers were probably convinced we were lesbians.  After all, how else could two “pretty girls” remain single at thirty?  I’ll never forget my grandmother saying, referring to a 29-year-old family friend, "See, other girls get married late too.”  She then quickly corrected herself. "I mean, late-ER," she added, trying to make me feel better. 

So, as I gird my loins for yet another round of family follies and festivities this year, I’ve decided I need a strategy to cope with both nosy relatives and the singleton holiday blues.  In an effort to remain optimistic as always, I’ve decided to come up with a list of all the cool things I am able to do as a single woman that would otherwise be impossible if I were married with munchkins—and I encourage you to do the same!

As for me, I’m now home for the holidays and ready to engage in another ritual I enjoy to help banish the singleton holiday blues.  I’m about to pop Bridget Jones’s Diary into the DVD player for the third (yes, third) time in the past 48 hours.  If you’re starting to feel the holiday blues too, I highly recommend the following Christmas chick flicks.  They help rekindle the hope in my heart that every girl’s story really does have a happy ending…even after 30! 

FAVORITE CHRISTMAS CHICK FLICKS
FOR HOLIDAY BLUES

1.      Bridget Jones’s Diary

2.      You’ve Got Mail

3.      Love Actually

4.      Miracle on 34^th Street (the 1994 remake)

5.      Sleepless in Seattle

6.      Four Christmases

7.      The Holiday

Fwd: jxxxxxx, we have great news!

The email below was forwarded to me by a friend who swears he only filled out his screen name, age and gender on the following online dating site.  Of course, the text in the body of the email made me laugh out loud immediately, but it also got me thinking...

Does dating in general, whether lurking online or prowling the local singles scene, have more to do with stroking our own egos than fulfilling an innate need for companionship and connection?  When it comes to online dating, I realize we all say we turn to Internet matching to find that special someone we haven't been able to meet at the local bar, but how many of us would admit we go online to either:  

a) distract ourselves from dwelling on a past relationship or recent break-up
b) make a former or current flame jealous, or 
c) simply be desired and therefore feel better about ourselves? 

I have to admit, an email box full of messages from people who find you interesting and attractive is often a much needed ego boost after a break-up.  But is it possible these Internet dating sites actually prey on our need to be desired?  (Matchmaking sites aren't charitable services after all.)  Why else would my friend receive the email below when he hadn't even taken the personality profile assessment or answered a single question?  (I realize it's an auto-response email, but it's pretty obvious everyone who creates a profile is equally "really great" and wanted "so bad.")

I'm not against Internet dating, as you well know, but I do think we ought to evaluate our motives before logging on.  And we shouldn't be surprised when we don't meet anyone through this venue if that's not really our goal in the first place.  I'm just saying, when it comes to dating (whatever avenue you choose) we all have to be able to look beyond ourselves before we can see clearly enough to notice that special someone looking back.

I hope you get as much of a kick out of this email as I did!

Begin forwarded message:

We have great news! About you, jxxxxxx: Your personality:    Really great How bad girls want you:    So bad Your profile, as of 8 milliseconds ago:    Approved! Check out our matching system. It's a no pressure, massive game of question and answer with millions of people at once. The more you answer, the better your matches will be! OkCupid © 2012 Humor Rainbow, Inc. 589 8th Ave Floor 11, New York, NY 10018 Unsubscribe

.

So Much Can Change in 365 Days

One year ago today…

Exactly one year ago today, at about 21 00 hours, I was getting dumped.  And shortly thereafter, when I started this blog it was to stave off the loneliness, despair and achingly-palpable, unrelenting pangs of heartbreak.  It was a measure of desperation--the only way I could infuse life into my listless and despondent soul.  It was the therapy that kept me sane, kept me getting out of bed in the mornings and would eventually lead me back to normal.  In fact, after my breakup I didn’t even know what “normal” looked like without my beloved partner.  Over the course of the past year, I had to find a new normal by consciously rebuilding and recreating my life.  At first it was difficult, seemingly impossible, that I could have a satisfying life without him—without any “him” for that matter.  But through the tears, the support of good friends, and the cathartic effect of my writing, this broken and deflated soul somehow emerged, not just whole, but better and stronger for the experience.

Last weekend, I went to see a dear friend, one I’ve known since I was 13 years old.  We met at high school cheerleading tryouts and have been lifelong pals ever since.  Despite the both of us having moved numerous times in the past 15 years and even living around the world, we've still managed to stay friends, sharing life’s greatest joys and deepest sorrows.

Strangely, our lives have often taken parallel routes, resulting in us experiencing peaks and valleys at exactly the same period of our lives.  Last year was no different.  I clearly recall the two of us having a less-than-happy hour at a sushi restaurant in Pasadena.  I shared the story of my heart-wrenching breakup, and my friend listened quietly and attentively as she always does. 

Then she shared her story… Having been married for years now but without any children, she confided in me that she and her husband had been going to counseling twice a week.  In her way, she quietly dispelled the myths I had of happily married newly weds.  In addition to a marriage on the rocks, my dear friend had recently lost her job and wanted nothing more than to stay at home and have her first child.  As I bemoaned my failed relationship, one I thought would result in a trip to the altar, she, almost telepathically reminded me how important it is to choose wisely.  “Who you pick makes a big difference.  It’s better to wait, even if you’re getting anxious or feel like time is running out.  It’s better to wait for the right one—or even to stay single.”  She told me in no uncertain terms that soon after she got married, she realized she didn’t like being married and perhaps didn't want to be—but it was too late.  Five years later she was still unhappily married.

Her words, her somber tone and her expressionless face made me rethink my present experience:  those twinges in the pit of my stomach—the ones that kept me up at night—when I wondered if my relationship had what it takes to last a lifetime.  Her message, both spoken and unspoken, conveyed to me the magnitude of a silly little thing we call love.

* * *

Fast forward one year later, and I find myself seated on her purple velvet sofa (the one I helped her pick out the summer before) staring into the large, mesmerizing, topaz eyes of her two-month-old baby girl, while the baby's father looks on.  It's the perfect picture of a happy home.

Oh, how so much can change in a year, I thought to myself.

My friend, now happily married, at home, with baby in tow, had quickly found another—better—job than the one before.  She and her husband had made great strides due to marriage counseling, and by the end of last summer, had embarked upon their last few sessions with the therapist.

As for me, my life has changed drastically too.  You know the stories about my work--the blog, the book, The Huffington Post, new clients, new jobs and the like.  But what you may not know is what’s been happening in my personal life.  Counting the relationship that ended a year ago today, I’ve been in three significant relationships, one of which would have resulted in an engagement this summer had I not ended things a couple months ago.  Needless to say, I’m confident the right outcomes emerged in all these situations, and today, I’m pleased to tell you I’m perfectly content with where things stand in my love life.  I’m finally over that past relationship, the one that resulted in this blog in the first place, and my new "normal" is, in many ways, better than the normal I once knew with him.

So I guess the moral of the story is to hang in there and never lose sight of hope and faith.  Fate has a way of working things out for the best if only we surrender to the process and commit to becoming better for all the trials we face.

Wishing you the best in life and love,

XOXO

A Day in the Life of a Dating Blogger

As I return home from work and sort through a pile of snail mail, I realize I finally have time to respond to messages from friends received throughout the day, none of which I’d had a chance to get to during such a busy day.

I have an email from a friend announcing a recent breakup with his girlfriend of five years.  It was sent at 8 a.m. this morning, so I decide to start with that.  Both consoling and congratulating my friend in response, I offer to take him out for a drink if he needs someone to commiserate (or celebrate) with. We banter back and forth about the benefits of being single in LA.

I’m headed to a party with the girls tonight, so after I hit “send” on the above email, I scramble to get ready.  I can hear my phone ringing while I’m in the shower, and when I check my device several minutes later, I see I have a missed call and a new voicemail.  I’m already a little behind schedule, so I listen to the message to see if it’s urgent or just a routine catch-up phone call.  The message is from a close guy-friend of mine saying he has “a question." That's it. That's all he says.  Coincidentally, I was just thinking about him on the way home from work today and wondering if he had married his Brazilian fiancée (who recently arrived to the U.S.) yet. According to U.S. immigration law, he has exactly 90 days to tie the knot; otherwise, his lady-friend takes a permanent trip back to South America.  His message is less chipper than usual and his tone doesn't sounds good, so even though I'm running late, I pick up the phone and give him a call while attempting to put on my makeup. 

He needs visa advice.  Fortunately, in addition to being a self-made relationship expert, I also have years of consular experience working in an American Embassy as a Foreign Service Officer.  (Who knew a career that didn't pan out would actually prepare me for one that might—i.e. becoming a chick lit/relationship writer?  Go figure.)  While working for the State Department, I dealt in the currency of love. I issued immigrant visas to spouses and fiancés.  I tested and questioned these couples’ love for one another.  With their futures hanging in the balance, everything depended on my opinion of their love story, so I could thoroughly understand my friend’s frustration when his future seemed determined, threatened even, by complicated immigration laws.  I chat with my friend for a while, offering some words of advice, then his attorney calls about the case, so he has to go.  I get back to doing my hair.

I’m blow-dying my hair when I see my phone light up.   I’ve just been sent a screenshot of a text conversation from a friend.  (Yes, you read that right.)  It's about the 10th message I've received from her today. The first several were a poll, really, asking her closest girlfriends whether or not she should have invited her crush to join us out tonight—which she already did.  I figured my opinion wouldn’t change history, so I decided to leave that question alone.  The second influx of messages (which included a screen shot of her iPhone) involved the text conversation she had with her crush when he kindly rebuffed her invitation.  Not a big deal, but she saw it as some sort of sign--he's playing games, he's not interested, etc., etc.

As I finally get back to my hair, I realize it's time to leave.  I just spent the better part of my evening responding to messages about relationships.

Even when I'm out with the girls that night, the discussion continues. The same girl belabors the same issue--why her man wouldn't want to meet up spontaneously on his way home from work. We all assure her it's not a big deal, but one thing leads to another and by the end of the night she's convinced it's time to say goodbye to her guy. She drops me off at my car, but doesn't want to go home. She suggests we go for a walk.  She needs fresh air.  So we drive to my place and walk around the block.  It's about 11:00 p.m.  (Thankfully, I live in a good neighborhood.)  As we prepare to part ways she's teary eyed.  She realizes she needs to let go of this guy and move on.  On the way back to her car she texts another friend asking if she can stop by on her way home.  I totally get it.  No one wants to be alone.  And no one wants to feel lonely.  But far too often we ease the discomfort of being alone with ourselves using a salve that is someone else.

My heart aches for her as I turn to walk up the front steps into my apartment.  I’m about to get ready to go to bed, but then I hear a couple of friends are at the local sports bar.  I’m still wide awake, so I put my shoes back on and grab my jacket.  I meet the guys at the bar, ready to finally chill out and relax--but the topic at hand is the same.  As I pull up a seat at the bar, one of the guys hands me his Blackberry.  He's having issues with his girlfriend.  He pulls up the text conversation on the screen (okay, this is déjà vu) and asks me to scroll down for the full dialogue. 

"She's gone crazy," he says, and after reading the melodramatic novel on this phone, I tend to agree.

"She's just playing games," I respond, handing the phone back to him.  Even though her last message is "Goodbye, *Eric", I have a feeling he'll hear from her tomorrow.  He agrees. We all sit there in dismay.  Why did things turn out this way?  Why are relationships so complicated?

When I finally get home and roll into bed, I realize I just spent the entire night listening to love stories and offering advice.  Geez, this might as well be a second job!  And in fact, it is.  How did I “suddenly” become an expert on love?  How did I unwittingly earn my second job?  It’s ironic to think it all started with a break-up, with me trying desperately to make sense of a relationship gone wrong.  In my quest for lasting love, I’ve not only learned, but, thankfully, I’ve learned from my mistakes.  It’s my hope that all my friends and readers will learn from both their experiences and mine, and that we’ll all come out better for it at the end. 

*Names have been changed.

Readers' Choice Awards

And the award for best online pick-up line goes to...

One of the best parts of writing a dating blog is the feedback I get from readers.  I love it when friends, old and new, share their comments and dating stories with me.  I especially love it when they share the juicy details of their online experiences (and give me permission to post it on my blog)!  This gem came from a friend who wishes to remain anonymous.  It's an email message she received on match.com.  Thank you for sharing, doll (you know who you are).

* * *

SUBJECT:  chocolate latte

Hello. My name is nick*, and I thought I would drop in and say hi. My friends would describe me as goofy and silly, but a great person to be around. I would describe myself as a good latte at Starbucks. Sweet, genuine, and will put a smile on your face once I touch your lips. No tricks here gorgeous, I'm just a nice guy looking for a nice outgoing woman that likes to have a good time. So take those beautiful blue eyes of yours, and check out my profile. I'm confident I have what it takes to keep that lovely smile on your face. Lol hey let's not get on that cheesy match comm tho. Let's tell everyone we met at publix....haha.

Nick

*Names have been changed to protect the idiots.

Think Like a Man?

I recently saw Think Like a Man, the movie based on Steve Harvey’s bestselling book about love, relationships, intimacy and commitment; and I have to admit, I was pleasantly surprised.  Having skimmed the book briefly (deeming it frothy “relationship propaganda” not worthy of a spot on my academic-quality blog bibliography), I wasn’t expecting much from the film.  However, both my significant other and I gave it an enthusiastic thumbs up.  The movie was, of course, good for quite a few laughs (filled humor both sexes can appreciate), but moreover, the interwoven tales of couples experiencing the ups and downs of relationships was honest and--believe it or not--insightful.  And what I liked most about it was the transformation of all characters in the film, both male and female.  Though I must admit, my initial reaction was to note only the character growth of the men in the film, and while the guys did shape up (and grow up) in the end, a closer analysis reveals a character arc in both gender camps--one that could not be achieved without the sharpening effect of the opposite sex.

In the movie, the women were catalysts; they inspired and challenged the men in their lives to reach their fullest potential.  Depending on the man, this could mean achieving career goals, becoming more emotionally mature, and/or elevating his moral and ethical standards.   Without women, men run the risk of becoming immature, irresponsible self-absorbed slobs.  While women, on the other hand, when left to their own devices, can become petty, catty, overly competitive and (dare I say) too independent.  Now don’t get me wrong, I’m all for being a strong, independent woman, but I believe a woman at her best is one who understands her role as interdependent in the world.  And while I believe it is a man’s natural duty to protect and provide for those weaker than him; I believe it is a woman’s job to nurture and care for those smaller and weaker than herself.   

The best part of the movie was that both casts of characters, male and female, grew as a result of their exchange with one other.  In the end, the men stepped up to their responsibility as protectors and providers, and the women in the film began to see their true worth.  Jeremy got a new job—but it wasn’t just about a better job or more money.  The real growth was that Jeremy, motivated and inspired by his girlfriend Kristen, finally reached his full potential and set boyish ways aside.  Similarly, Dominic, the floundering free-spirit, finally hunkered down, wrote a prospectus and started his own business, things he would never have been motivated to do were it not for the beautiful, successful woman in his life whom he wanted to impress. 

Similarly, the women in this flick, albeit for different reasons, also experienced personal growth.  First and foremost, the ladies (at the admonition of Steve Harvey) finally stopped selling themselves short and giving away “the cookie” for free.  Ladies, this principle cannot be understated.  Don’t sell yourself short.  Keeping a lock on the cookie jar is the fastest, simplest way to separate the wheat from the chaff, the keepers from the players.  The women in this film not only began to value themselves enough to create boundaries (Kristen finally dumps Jeremy when, after eight years together, she realizes he’s never going to propose), but they also started to rethink the value of the men in their lives.  Lauren (a successful C.O.O.) realized that personality, passion and character were more important to her than money, prestige and fancy cars.    

This film confirmed my fervent belief that men and women need each other in order to be all they can be.  I highly recommend it, and hey, it makes a great date night flick! 

THE LIST

I made a list.  DON’T JUDGE ME. 

I made a list detailing the Pros and Cons of the various major players in my personal dating game.  I know it’s not romantic; some may even think it “mean,” and God help me should this list ever be revealed to any of my suitors, past or present.  (I’m thinking of an episode of Friends right now, "The One Where Ross Makes a List About Rachel.")  However, after much consideration, I deemed “the list” an absolute necessity. 

RATIONALE:

I make detailed lists nearly every day of my life.  In fact, I think it would be safe to say, I live my life in lists.  Lists of what I want to accomplish (a.k.a "bucket list"), lists of what I have accomplished (a.k.a. CV and resume).  In the past, I’ve even made lists detailing my short-term and long-term goals.  And far as long as I can remember, I’ve made both daily and weekly “to-do” lists.  In fact, I don’t think I’d even have a shot at being successful in what I do, if I did not make and keep track of various lists.  It’s the only way I can manage so many moving parts—people, things, processes, projects, etc.  List-making is a must. 

Therefore, if list-making contributes to success in my work life, shouldn’t it stand to reason that it can also bring success in my love life as well?  Either way, it was worth a shot.  And let’s be honest with ourselves.  We all do it anyway!!  We compare Mr./Ms. “Right Now” not only to Mr./Ms. Ex Boyfriend/Girlfriend, but also to the image we have in our head of Mr./Ms. Right.  We do it consciously and subconsciously, so why not just get it down on paper so we can see, in and black and white, how the person in front of us measures up to the person we are comparing him/her to in our head.  Sounds perfectly reasonable to me; and perhaps, this measureable, tangible, palpable list will yield powerful information I could never have processed or assessed, were it not in 12 pt. Courier font before my eyes. 

Let the List-Making begin!

METHODOLOGY:

I decided to divide my Pros and Cons list into two categories:  first, “Physical/Superficial” Pros and Cons, and second, “Personality/Character” Pros and Cons.  I thought making this distinction was especially important because it allowed me to assign a “weight” (albeit in a very cursory way) to my various factors.  For example, I believe minor misdemeanor “cons” such as, “Leaves cap off toothpaste” should not be considered on par with trespasses of moral turpitude such as “Has knocked boots with half the female population of Los Angeles.”  There’s definitely a difference there (and unfortunately, I’ve had to deal with both of these unsavory conditions in the past).   

FINDINGS/INTERPRETATION:

I then made a side-by-side comparison of two very important love interests in my life.  The results were both surprising, and difficult to interpret. 

I found that overall, when comparing Guy #1 to Guy #2, there was a 2:1 ratio of negative characteristics, meaning Guy 1 had twice as many negatives, both innocuous and egregious.  But what was more perplexing were the results of the “Pros.”  Though there was about a 2:3 ratio (Guy 1 to Guy 2) in the positive spectrum (meaning Guy #2 slightly outdid Guy #1 in terms of positive characteristics), the “Pros” were harder to measure.  I realized I wanted to further weight the Pros within both the superficial and non-superficial categories, so I highlighted each guy’s positive traits that were exceptionally important to me.  This, however, did not shed any further light on the situation, given the fact that both guys now had an even number of Very Important Positive (VIP) Traits highlighted in yellow.

CONCLUSION:     

Instead of providing answers, the results of my list just brought to the surface more questions (as perhaps good research should).  I was forced to ask myself the following question:  Do we judge potential prospects more heavily based on their strengths or weaknesses?  Granted, we all have pros and cons, but what should matter more?  Our outstanding characteristics?  Or the bits that need improvement? 

Sometimes I wonder if I should have sacrificed some of the good things I’ve always wanted, for someone with only a few faults, or if I should have more readily excused someone’s faults in light of their glowing VIP characteristics? 

Well, I guess Steve Harvey was right.  There is no Perfect Man.  You just have to pick and choose.  Dear God, help me to choose wisely.  I want to pick and win, not pick and lose.