Text And The City

I send texts. You send texts. We all send texts. Everyone's doing it. But are we doing it...wrong?

There is nothing quite so degrading as when you realize you're giving your phone the evil eye, waiting for it to ring after you send someone a text. I mean, for chrissake, it's an electronic lump of plastic, and here we're thinking giving it the look that would freeze hell over will galvanize someone miles away into action, manipulating them to reach for their similar hunk of plastic, and redeem all of human kind to us. We all know, I think, how often this actually happens. The opposite of what we'd like to happen happens more often than we'd all like.

Wow. Our expectations and misplaced steely stares are grossly over-sized. So, how do we learn how to text...better?

First, we need to recognize a fundamental fact to communication between the sexes: Women perceive their relationships better than men. A study done by Hebrew University of Jerusalem showed that after surveying 97 couples in the United States, women are more perceptive than men in describing their relationships. The study, which was published in ScienceDaily, reported that women were much more accurate in describing the perception of their partners than men. Sometimes this hurts more than it helps. This means that, technically, a woman texting should know the situation that she's getting into and the sense of decorum that it comes with. Is this always true? Fuck no. How many of you ladies have sent those texts that as soon as your thumb lifts off the "Send" button, you start cringing? I start shaking, myself. Like I have palsy. It is tres, tres attractive, I'm sure.

I really, and I mean really hate the phone. This should be apparent by now. Which is exactly why I've spent so much time and off-the-mark texts researching what the best ways to compose and send them are. And this is what I've found:

We all have options about the way we have text. There are easy options, ambivalent options, and leave no pris...I mean, hard options. Most texts are usually ambivalent options. If he says he's got other plans when you ask what he's up to tonight, you probably won't be heartbroken. The general variety "Hey, do you wanna go get a drink?" or "What are you up to now/later?" are ambivalent options. Ambivalent option texts are usually safe texts to send and receive because the sender generally wants little other than some sort of contact with another life form for the sake of feeling not so bored and there's not so much pressure. Unfortunately, these are the sort of texts least likely to get responded to. It happens, though it still really pisses me off, primarily because like stated, they generally aren't threatening texts at all, merely curious and mostly seeking beer or other forms of entertainment of a purely friendly kind, no ulterior motives. (Well, ok, I mean, everyone always has ulterior motives of one kind or another.)

But sometimes, you need to hardball. Sometimes, you need to put you first. Maybe you had plans you need to know are definite. Maybe you forgot the notebook with your calc notes in it at his place after spending the previous night, and you've got a test in 2 hours. Maybe you really need advice on a matter, and value their opinion nearly more than your mother's. This is when you hardball. You don't want to force a no-options text when you think you want to spend the night. That's like using The Force for evil. That's turning over to the Dark Side of being one of Those Girls. (Pink lightsabers are not good lightsabers, people.) Text "I have to get my _____. What time will you be home so I can get it?" No options. You're getting that _____. Today.

A "soft option" or "easy option" looks like an ambivalent text at the beginning. It usually starts with a "Hey, what are you up to?" or something equally breezy and conversational, then it gets to the point after the "Not much, what about you?" response. A "soft option" then gives a time limit and easy out for the recipient to say either "yes" or "no" to, no pressure. "Can you chat for 5 minutes?" DON'T use "talk." NEVER use the word "talk" in a text in the context of "Let's talk," or "I want to talk to you" or "We need to talk." This makes sirens go off, and if you seem overly seriously, it's another no-no. They'll run for the hills. Seriously. Always stay light and informal. Now is a good time to be delicate about asking for things. This makes it a "soft in," because there are good chances that you'll get that in for 5 minutes or an invite. The main difference between an ambivalent text and an easy option text is that an ambivalent text is very direct and to-the-point without being overly polite or seeming like you're asking for a favor, like an easy option text usually takes the form of. The point of an ambivalent text is that you really don't give a fuck, which you do with easy option texting-- which is why you're making it an easy option.

Some other rules of texting thumb and phone etiquette:

- Always ask yourself, what am I trying to communicate in this text? Is it clear? Can anything be misinterpreted? Unfortunately, the answer to this last question may still be "yes," but at least by now you've done your best.

- Keep the text to one point. Abbreviate what you can, without it looking like a 14 year old wrote it. Keep it classy, and abbreviate using shorthand. "With" becomes "w/." "Because" is "b/c" or "bc." "And" becomes my favorite symbol, "&." "At" is "@." And although I really hate it, and it's the last thing I abbreviate, and only then if I really can't help it, "you" can be "u." God. I feel so awkward and tweenage all over again. And unless you're texting your best friends, keep it to one text page at a time. Getting slammed with a consecutive 2 or 3 in a row is so overwhelming.

- If you want a text back, a good place to end is on asking a question. A pertinent question. People are more apt to respond back to questions, even if it is only with one or a few words.

- Sass is hard to pull off without sounding like a bitch unless the other person knows your humor as well as you do. Watch ya tone.

- Use a fresh opener that other people won't. A "ciao" means it's from me. Conversely, using a gender-bending opener like "Yo" or "Dude" is great for fending off the advances of men you think of sheerly platonically, or alternately if you want to make your guy friend feel more comfortable with the informal tone of your text.

- Only if you call and don't leave a voicemail message can you text a "voicemail message" instead. I actually suggest this, as it's clever because it means your name is seen twice, and if they didn't answer the call because it wasn't an appropriate time, I think we all know that by now, texting mid-conversation, or at least reading a text, is considered de rigueur. That means twice the chance that they'll know to get back to you.

But always remember-- when in doubt, and if it's important: Call.

XOXO

What NOT To Do In A Relationship

I've talked a lot about what you should do in a relationship. We've bonded over shared stories of where we all went wrong. We've even discussed how to make being single more fun and less lonely. But something that a lot of time hasn't been spent on is what NOT to do in a relationship. The bad news is, these things can only be learned after they go wrong, and some relationships don't snap back from these sort of things. The good news is, you can take my and my girl friend's sharp learning curves and apply them to your life, maybe before you experience these bad behaviors in yourself. Here are the 7 most important lessons we've compiled from our dating histories. While I have never snooped in a beau's phone, a friend of mine did, to disastrous results, which more firmly implanted in me a desire to never spring into action over that curiosity, and now, might nip your yearning in the bud, too. And while we all have wished sometimes that we could change a man, I'm here to tell you that sorry, doll, but you can't. What are these things that brand you in a relationship as brightly as a scarlet letter?

Never, EVER, EVER look in his phone or email or planner or what have you. Believe me. It is not worth it to you to put yourself in that kind of pain if you DO find something that upsets you. Women have great intuition, so trust it. If you think he's creeping, he's probably creeping. So, make like I do, assume the worst, and act from there. What do I hate more than nearly anything? When the guy in bed next to me is getting texts at 2 AM. Do I assume some of these are from other women? Oh, totally. So instead of snooping around and either making myself feel like an idiot or making me someone he feels like he can't trust, I assume that if I were to look at his phone, yeah, I'd see other women. I don't like it, but it gives me enough of a shell that were I to ever be there at the same time as another woman (oh, and but it happened TWICE,) I'm ready to act with class, and not distress. And if he really isn't creeping? Then you all can feel better about it. Maybe I'm jaded, but I've learned to operate on "plan for the worst; expect the best." I expect to be considered the best and that a man would have the decency to acknowledge this, but I plan because sometimes we need to remember that people are, in fact, just people, and therefore, fallible.

REMEMBER-- Until you have the discussion about it, assumption can make an ass out of you, but it can also prepare you to either be strong, or pleasantly relieved. Also, would you want him going through your phone? OH, HELL NO.

In the words of The Clash, do not NOT stand by your man. If your friend is talking shit, prove her wrong. If your mom isn't his biggest fan, tell her the reasons why she should be. (The best argument for this is that he makes you genuinely happy.) Basically, be as loyal to him as you hope he's loyal to you. I've proved loyalty more times than I'd like. I've stuck through legal troubles, some dubiously unlawful activities, infidelities, and long-ass distances because I feel that when you find a good man, you don't let him go so easily, even if there are learning curves that may be a little steep.

What does loyalty mean to you? Is it something you can turn your head the other way from, or is it a deal-breaker? I can tell you from experience that turning the other way is more painful than it does good, even if it does stave off an epic WWIII blow-out. But sometimes it's more important to stand up for yourself and have that blow-up than to keep letting someone disrespect you.

Don't be together every day. Take some time off from each other. You start to appreciate each other more for the things you do, whether it's the way you bring him his favorite ice cream for a night in watching movies on the couch, or the way he smells when he sleeps at night. The best times I've ever had in relationships are the times when there's a little bit of absence. I'm an only child, so I'll admit it-- I like my space. If I spend the night at a guy's house, I prefer not to see him or talk to him the next day after I go home. I'm under the impression that everything that needs to be said has been said, and done, at least for a little while. You both should get to chillax without the other. In a recent interview with Katy Perry, it was noted that she started reading now-husband Russell Brand's memoir, "My Booky Wook," after they started dating, but, she said, "...then I stopped because I was like, I can't eat, sleep, and shit you. I need to just experience you." I think these are incredibly wise words from someone who has made major bank off of the fact that she kissed a girl and liked it. You CAN'T, and SHOULDN'T eat, sleep, and shit anyone other than yourself.

This also applies to phones. I was smitten when a guy I was seeing called me on the days we didn't see each other just to check in, but then again, HE was the one calling ME, not vice-versa.Don't be the blowing-up-the-phone girl. Let someone else be her, because she doesn't get responded to for long. Leave some silence in hopes that he's the sort of guy who will want to talk to YOU when he has something he wants to say, or needs a secondary opinion. Or just wants to say hey. Conversely, when you're in a really comfortable, effortless relationship, it doesn't really matter who calls whom, because it's not that big of a deal. When you're into each other equally, you know it. You lose the stress. That's a really nice place to be.

Don't be a bitch. Don't be a nag. Don't put the other person down needlessly. You say something you shouldn't have, you take a quiet moment to apologize for it later. End of story. Same applies toward men. You too, sir-- don't be a bitch.

The only flip-side to this is that sometime egos running rampant need a check. You should be comfortable enough with your S.O to provide that check, and know when to provide that check. They should also be able and willing to do the same for you.

Don't be a little piggy. I hope that you are not the only thing going for him in a man's life. I hope he has friends and family and a job and hobbies. I hope he has a favorite sports team and favorite TV shows and a favorite beer. I hope he plans vacations or at least road trips or hikes with his friends. I hope you're not the only person he goes out to eat with (in a non-romantic or dating capacity, that is. Then, I SINCERELY hope you're the only person he's going out to eat with). So, don't be little Miss Piggy and hog all his time. He needs time drinking beer and yelling at the TV screen with his boys. He needs to take his mom out to brunch and play with his nieces and nephews. He needs to work over-time to pay rent at times. Even if you don't needto do all those things as well, you need to realize that he does, and let him do them, sans you.

How would you feel if you had a girl's night planned full of cocktails and gossip and getting dressed up and going out to innocently flirt with other guys who you'll never see or talk to again (the girl's equivalent to a guy's game night with his dudes), and your S.O decided he was coming out with you? It'd just about put a dampener on everything, wouldn't it? So don't you be the dampener in his life! Respect each other's time and space and separate activities. (This includes cell phone privacy. If you want to tell each other who's calling, you can. But it's not obligational. I got into a spat with a guy over this. Same deal-- don't ask; don't tell.)

You can't change a man. I've been remarkably lucky in relationships for the past 2 years. The last 3 guys I've been with have all been the most intriguing, most considerate, and yes, most gorgeous I have ever dated. Last summer's was a virtual Greek athletic god on Earth; last fall's was ever so popular and out-going; and the most recent, well...the most recent has been not only quite possibly the most stunning person I've ever met, but also the most interesting, as well. But as attractive and impressive as all of these men have been, it still doesn't mean that they all were perfect. There were things about all of them that I would have changed, given the chance, and a magic wand. But as I learned, in the sleepy-and-whiny-5-year-old's-early-morning-hour's voice of the most recent, you "don't try to change meeeeeeee!" You can't change a man. You just can't. There are things that you can suggest-- like using a variety of punctuation, possibly investing in some boxer-briefs (the Wonderbra for men; I'm serious, they're like magic), or trying out some new positions in bed-- but you will never make spots into stripes. If you're with a leopard, and looking for a zebra, cut ties, and don't waste both your time trying to make an herbivore out of a carnivore.

Just like you can't really change a woman. I guess empathy is a big thing here. I know we're all guilty of making demands or suggestions that aren't the most graceful-- and here's my mea culpa-- but think of how you'd take it if a guy told you he hated the way you wear your hair, or wanted you to spend half the time it takes for you to get ready in the morning cuddling with him instead. I think we all know how that'd go over-- like a lead balloon. Like the Hindenburg crashing and burning. But with more fireworks.

For god's sake, don't let yourselves become boring! We all have routines. I'll admit it. After a lot of time spent together, we tend to develop habits. We're all guilty of this. You spend the night on Tuesdays, Friday, and Sundays. He makes lasagna for the two of you once a week. You have-- heaven save us all-- a sex routine down-pact. There is more to life than this! SHAKE THINGS THE FUCK UP. Don't spend the night on a Tuesday. Spend a Wednesday. Ask him to make something new, and tackle a different recipe together. Wear some lingerie to bed. For god's sake, try a new position. Variety is the spice of life.

But make sure to keep the things that you do love to do together consistent. Talk to each other about your favorite things to do together. (Yes, sex can be one of them.) Commit to doing those things with each other, even if it's a random, last-minute plan. (Not as in, "Hey, you're at work and on deadline with a really important project, and I'm grabbing lunch at our favorite spot-- wanna play hooky and come?" Even though that might be fun. More like, "Hey, I know the show starts in 5 minutes, but if you leave to come over now, you'll only miss the opening credits, and I can fill you in," or, "I'm at the bar, and the seasonal brews just came out! Wanna come down and grab a pint?") Watching favorite TV shows together is a great weekly bonding ritual. Spending a night together a week is crucial for keeping up with not only each other's lives, but also in keeping up your connection. Chemistry just happens sometimes, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have to be nurtured, just like everything else.

Feel free to comment with your own dating revelations and tips on things NOT to do, or the cases in which there are exceptions to the rules.

XOXO

Let's All Be Adults, Here

How many of you are in perfectly functioning relationships, where every need is met, you never question each other, you're both having exactly as much sex as you both want, he never snores, she never nags, and you're basically shitting rainbows and laughing maniacally while "Happy Together" plays everywhere you go?

Yeah, that's what I thought. Don't tell me if you really are so happy together 24/7/365 and shitting rainbows. But for the rest of us, how can we make what we have better? How can we be more satisfied and relaxed, and less needy and confused?

I have a theory that every. single. goddamn. relationship in the world is complicated and secretly dysfunctional in it's own way. And it's ok. Because we're all just human. And humans are messy, illogical beings. Guys, when was the last time your girl drove you crazy trying to nail you down to a specific event or response? Girls, when was the last time you got pissed at your S.O because he didn't do something you wanted him to? I do not call them "relationshits" or "_____-month adversary"s for no reason.

The next time something your fucking id-...sweetheart is doing something that's driving you crazy, press the mental "pause" button for a second to think. Take the time, before you react, to ask yourself: Am I upset at a need of mine that isn't being met, or am I just pumping myself up about something that I'm making out of nothing? A need (that has been established through prior clear, honest, adult conversation) that isn't being met is not ok to let slide by. Something that you would like but don't necessarily need, like a response back to a text that doesn't demand a response or conversation, isn't something to stew over or blow up about.

I had a night like that recently. I get demanding and unreasonable when I get scared-- it's one of my downfalls. In the past, I hit a 5 month mark and promptly morphed into a harpy. Why? Because I was scared. Would I actually put my very sufficient and wordy vocabulary to use and address this fact? Oh, hell no. Because that might mean actually admitting that I have fEeLiNgS and EMOtionz and I "wanted shit." Fuck that. So I mucked around instead and fucked it all up. Great, right? Exactly what I wanted to NOT happen, right?

Well, been there, bought that t-shirt, learned that lesson. So, this time, when it came down to it, I could step back far enough from the "situation" to realize it wasn't the fact I hadn't gotten a "thanks" back in reply that was making me tetchy and bitchy-- it was the fact that I had recently realized how much time I'd spent with that person (whom I know well enough at this point not to expect a response back to something like what I'd texted in the first place). It scared me, so I took all that emotion, and misplaced it somewhere else where I felt like I could deal with it better, by being a bitch about it with myself and overly-over-analyzing.

All in all, did it help anything? No. But what I was able to do was step back juuust enough to see what the real issue was, and make sure I didn't react offensively to it anywhere else but inside my own head. I did not need a text back in response of receiving it. I would have liked one, because that's what I consider good manners. But have I brought this fact up (in this case, that not getting acknowledgement from anyone drives me up the bloody wall,) before to discuss it? No. So I calmed my ass down, and went to a show downtown to distract myself. Distracting yourself in times like these when you're all keyed up over something asinine is a great trick. It's like time-out for adults. Go somewhere and do something without whoever is driving you nuts. Somewhere loud, with lots of other people, and things that will distract your attention from the snit-fit in your head. (Concerts, festivals, movies, and parties are all great places to go for this.) And viola, in 2 hours, you'll be all Zen again.

Remember: An issue that hasn't been addressed, out loud, in a respectful, adult conversation between the two of you, is not an issue you can get mad or defensive or confrontational about. It's not fair. It's like expecting your S.O to be able to read your mind and intuitively know what they should say or do. And I think we all know by now that men are not mind-readers. Sometimes it's a good thing. (I already say far too much about whatever's on my mind when I drink. We don't need the rest of what I'm not saying aired out, too.) And sometimes it's a bad thing. But I don't think it's going to be changing either way anytime soon.

XOXO

P.S-- A few good mantras if you think you're about to blow your life out of the water? "Slow your roll," "Are you completely sure you know what you're doing?" On a percentage scale to 100%, where are you? If you're at 85% or lower, it ain't worth it to bug out. And my personal favorite and most often used-- "Don't be so crazy-pants, little one!" I dare you to at least not crack a smile while you say "crazy-pants" to yourself. Or anyone else, for that matter. I'm grinning right now.

Close Encounters from the Girl Kind

What are the five most awkward or nerve-wracking situations a girl can get herself into today? What are the things that make us lose sleep at night, or break into cold sweats at sweltering house parties? When are the times that you can actually see fear in our eyes like the look that a guy gets as he walks up the front steps of his date's house for the first time? (Always thought that was a hilarious and telling moment to watch.) Here are the top 5 situations that a group of women I polled at work agreed on as the things that we worry about the most, and the quick, sweet fixes for them. You're smart, you're pretty, now how about being a little less awkward?

Situation 1: Close Encounters of the Girl Kind

It's always awkward when you bump into a girl who used to see or sleep with the same guy that you're seeing. There's always that implicit understanding of who's doing what or who's done whom. I'm nervous and defensive by nature, but I learned quickly that being a bitch gets you nowhere-- it's always better to smile, say "hey," and ask them how they're doing. The thinking is that if you're nice, it's hard not to like you-- if something is still going on, they'll feel worse about it (believe me, I've been on both sides of this one), or if it's all over, it's always easier to concede defeat to someone you actually like. Make sure you always smile, wave, or say hi first. Ask them about something going on in their life. Be interested. Your confidence will shake anyone with lesser confidence off, and appears as if you're perfectly in control of the way things are, even if you're not. This can also be called "gesturing," "peacocking," or "being alpha bitch."

Situation 2: Hold The Phone

Even Ron Jeremy agrees that when someone he's with is texting constantly, it makes him, King Dong, worry about the presence of another dude. “If I see men’s cologne in a girl’s bathroom or if she is texting constantly, it’s a big turnoff." Same goes for women. Nothing makes me more morbidly curious than a cell phone vibrating on a nightstand at 2 AM. Maybe your dude friends are insomniacs too, but I doubt it. Maybe it's because I'm under the general persuasion that since bars close at 2, that's a late-night drunk booty call, because, let's face it, we've all been the one sending that text, but honestly, nothing makes me feel less likely to get in the mood than wondering what the fuck is going on and if someone else wants to be in my place on my side of the bed. So...if I can be cognizant enough to either tell the other men I'm talking to to stop texting me past midnight, or to turn my ringer and vibrate OFF, I really feel like for peace of mind and in an active effort to not kill the mood, it's not too much to ask that other people do it as well.

Situation 3: The Rag's a Drag

I think we can all generally agree that when you're turned on, you're turned on. For men, this isn't much of a problem. For women, Mother Nature has other plans for us a week out of every month. Some women don't mind having sex while they're menstruating, but for others, it's a definite "no." Unfortunately, biology fucked us ALL over, because when a woman is ovulating or during her week long of Bloody Sundays is when she's at her most attractive. Our faces get brighter and shiner. Our hips swivel more when we walk. We smell better and our hair is softer. And, to quote my drunk-ass self, we have "luscious tits." Understandably, men find us attractive. So, how do you turn away a dude who wants to be all up in your business when you're closed for business, without having to go into the gory details and make a pick-up a bad B-rated bloody slasher movie? Simple-- tell him that you'd love to, but you already have made other plans (for that night if it's not too late, like at 1 AM, or for the next morning, like a breakfast date), and then tell him you'd like to make a rain-check for another time. This implies that you're interested, yet not flaky, and are open to things happening...just at another point in time, like when Trojan has replaced Tampax as your best friend. Actually, in cases other than that time of the month, the sandwich of "I'd love to, but I already have plans for early tomorrow morning...can we make a rain-check?" is a winner. Memorize it. Practice it. Use it.

Situation 4: Don't Mention The War!

Speaking of sending 2 AM texts... So you sent a text you maybe shouldn't have. It was late; you were impaired; you were lonely; your vibrator had broken. You wake up the next morning after being either ignored or turned down flat, and you kinda want to kill yourself, or at least relinquish rights to your phone and your snatch. Rather than taking a vow of chastity, there's an easier and less sucky way to remedy things: Just don't call or text again for awhile. People forget things easily over time, and even if you were coming off as presumptuous or needy, NOT being in contact like it ain't no thang for awhile will rectify that view. Give it a week, live your life, do your own thing. Buy a new vibrator. Next time you see or talk to the text's recipient, act nonchalant, like it never happened and you, too, have experienced mild amnesia. Be like John Cleese in Fawlty Towers-- "Don't mention the war!"

Situation 5: Bringing Up Exey

Sometimes, you just can't help it. Sometimes, you talk about your ex. Sometimes, it comes up in conversation-- they ask for more information or about where it went wrong, or, like me, you get people confused and end up looking at your current S.O and saying, "Are you the one who slept with night lights, or are you the one who's afraid of roller coasters?" Yeah. It can get a little awkward. Possibly MOST potentially awkward, however, is the fact that the memorial tattoo I'm planning on getting shortly partially includes the last name of a guy I was romantically involved with for awhile, though first and foremost, we were close friends. Things like that, however, shouldn't be hard to explain. You should be able to say, "I loved him, and I lost him, and this is my way of honoring his memory." If someone doesn't get that, then they're a jackass. What can be harder, however, is when the person you're seeing asks you, "Was that the best sex of your life, or what?" When this happens to me, I'm honest. I keep very close tabs on what I consider the best sex I've ever had. I don't suggest this approach to everyone, however. What usually is better in this situation is a non-committal "mmmm" or an "of course!" if it really was the best sex you've ever had...with them. Sometimes, white lies are fine. Generally, people know the best sex of their life when they find it. Lying doesn't cover anything in that aspect.

XOXO

P.S-- For more advice for anything from what cute flats to wear at the office to how to be a better friend, visit Molly at smartprettyandawkward.com.

4 Times A Woman Is NOT Trying To Be A Crazy Bitch

"And it's not your fault, but mine; and it was your heart on the line. I really fucked things up this time, didn't I, my dear?" These may be the lyrics of Mumford and Sons' "Little Lion Man," but they aptly describe the feeling that women get when we realize we've made a social mis-step of some possibly Crazy Bitch proportions. And so, I give you, so we can be clearer about this in the future, the four times women are not trying to be a Crazy Bitch.

Situation 1.) When you give us disappointing news, the silence on the phone line is not a bad thing. We are not trying to make you feel any worse (...slightly). We're just trying to juggle our disappointment with the fact that we know you already feel bad and try to temper our instant bitchy and self-centered response with something that sounds more like, "Well, that's really a shame," instead of "This is all your fault!" Because we actually know what's fair and what's not, and when you've tried versus when you're actually not trying. If you're not trying, we're bound to be a little more insistent and lay on a little bit of a guilt-trip, but if you've done what you can, we're taking time out to not be a bitch about it. We really hate being a bitch to you. Really.

Situation 2.) It's only been 24 hours, and my name has popped up on your phone not twice, but 4 times. I know how this looks. This doesn't look good. In fact, I'm pretty sure that this qualifies for what is known in the vernacular as "blowin' a G's phone up." But hear me out. If you weren't quite so hard to get a hold of, and if I wasn't calling for some really, really pertinent and time-stamped information, we wouldn't be having this problem. I am not purposely trying to be annoying. I am not trying to hunt you down over Verizon's phone lines, though, it's starting to feel like it at this point, even to me. Women are warned off their entire life so being so persistent, as we're told it often comes across as "needy." But the deal is, I don't necessarily need you--although that would be nice-- I need the answers that you hold. Please accept this as an apology, and call back ASAP so I can stop looking like I'm about to boil a bunny at any moment and you can get back to being un-harassed by me and thinking, "Wow, she's actually a really cool girl. I haven't heard from her in awhile. Maybe I should call," and not "Oh god, it's this crazy bitch again-- she can't get enough of me. I'm turning my phone off NOW. Die, bitch, diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiie!"

Situation 3.) It's The Morning After, roughly somewhere between the hours of 8 and 10 AM. We are currently undressed, unwashed, just awake, and the remains of yesterday's make-up are smeared in 20 directions from center. From the instant our eyes open, we are aware of 4 things:
1.) You have other stuff to do today than entertain us.
2.) We were sleeping with our mouth open, which I'm sure was incredibly attractive and winning.

3.) You're probably wondering when we're going to leave so you can get on with said day.
4.) Saying goodbye is going to be awkward. There's always the Great Hug vs. Kiss debate.
We are also then aware of the next 4 following things:
1.) Certified, we will have no clue where either our bra or underwear have gotten to. (Always check under the bed!)
2.) We cannot stumbled onto the street looking like this. It's a small town, and there are children and possibly people who know us around.
3.) We're going to have to commandeer your bathroom for about 10 minutes to get presentable. We hope you don't mind or think we're taking a massive shit.
4.) It's rude to just fuck and run, so what's the most well-mannered way to execute this morning? Is this a "breakfast included" affair, or at least a lukewarm cup of coffee? We're not looking to stay for lunch, but a cigarette would be nice. A half an hour to an hour of waking up, lounging, fixing everything north of your neck and checking out the situation south of the border is in order, and some casual morning conversation is not completely out-of-line. We're aware. We're not staying forever. We know you would like us out at some reasonable point. And we'll be gone with nearly everything we came with in about an hour, as long as we can actually find the underwear that has been spirited away to the Twilight Zone.
(Side-note: If she know the roommates, she's gonna be in there a little bit longer. It's just rude otherwise.)

Situation 4.) When we tell you what we really want. Be man enough to ask rather than jumping to conclusions. Be man enough to listen. Be man enough to care. Because when you don't, that puts you in a situation in which you become a Massive Dick, and, in fact, totally null and voids us from being a Crazy Bitch when we call your ass on it. It's kind of like how a red-card throwing a player out of the game negates his personal foul.

There you have it. Realign that thinking.

XOXO

Parents Are Weird. So Are Men.

My mother called me tonight under the guise of telling me that after some pleading on her part, my new landlord has been convinced to leave the ceiling mural the current-apartment-occupying UVM art student has painted in the living room, and not cover it up with a new layer of beige paint.

"I figure that after traveling, it'll be like you girls have your own Sistine Chapel," she told me. Not quite, but I dig the idea of having a sweet pro-bono painting commission in my new apartment, like some really Euro-trash Medici patron in the college housing central of Burlington.

And then she cut to her motherly chase. "So have your heard back from that guy?" she asked, meaning the Middlebury grad student I met in Perugia who's studying in Florence who I was supposed to be meeting up with sometime this weekend and going to the Boboli Gardens. I found out today that "going for coffee" changed into "going to the Boboli" because all national museums and the like are free this weekend, and promptly spent most of my afternoon and evening spontaneously bursting into laughter about how men can think they are being so smooth yet cheap at the same time and that we'll never know, when, in reality, we are well aware and think it is hilarious. But I understand-- Florence is expensive, and the "Bob" (pronounced "Bobe") as we fondly call it, is an amazing place. So I'll let it slide.

"No. We were supposed to get in touch midday today, but I forgot about it until six and he didn't call, so whatever."

"No!" My mother was surprisingly vehement. "It sounded like such a nice time! Why don't you call him now?"

I don't beat around the dating bush. "What, you want me to call him now to make sure he takes me out tomorrow, just so I can then tell him that I'm not really interested? I find that kind of counter-productive. He's great to talk to, but that's about all I'm looking for."

My mother just really wants to see me with some brilliant Italian Literature Middlebury grad student. My mother likes to live vicariously through me. This is the sort of guy my mother loves-- someone with a doctorate in something; anything, really. You could have a doctorate in moving drugs and stolen furniture, and she would still ask to see that diploma. I know I have some interesting (read: questionable) taste in men, and this leads my mother to worry that this will one day resolve in me running off with some "eccentric, alternative guy" to live in a nudist farm/commune in Arizona, where I will dread my hair and sing along as my dude-du-jour strums the guitar for spare change and pen the rest of "The All-American Nomad's College Life" on paper towels stolen from public restrooms, Kerouac-style, by the light of a headlamp at night. Unfortunately, my mother's wishes for me don't always align with my wishes for me. I really just want to see myself sleeping in as late as I want and not necessarily needing to shower tomorrow morning.

Men. Sometimes you can take them. Sometimes you can leave them. And sometimes, they can take you out, and then you can leave them. Or, sometimes you can just sleep in and avoid dealing with them all together.

XOXO

A Life Lesson In Gender Relationships

A girl must have her girls.

But when in doubt, when you're feeling very small and unsure and scared and alone...

Call on your boys.

Have a few good, solid, hearty guys in your life who you know will always pick up the phone. Who will always sound like hearing from you is Christmas morning all over again. Who will sit through you having a crisis of faith in everything from yourself, to others, to the real estate market, to the state of your lungs and just listen and let you get it all off your chest. Who, when they say, "it's just a few more weeks," makes it sound not only doable, but enjoyable.

Because while your girls know what they should say to make you feel better, your boys can say things to you that make you feel like you're back at home in someone's living room in your warmest, most comfy sweats, passing a bowl and smelling spilled beer and stale cigarette smoke.

It may not sound all that glamorous or comforting.

But my god, it is.

So here's to the men in my life who pick up those calls and listen to all the small, scared thoughts and are intuitive enough to say things like, "We miss you too, muffin," which is pretty much the psychological equivalent of a giant bear-hug from across the Atlantic. Thank you, thank you, thank you from the bottom of this scared little unbeliever's heart. While I may have shitty luck in housing, the job market, and love, I am overly-blessed in my friends. And when it comes down to it, they usually have a couch and enough room in their life and love for your poor homeless ass, too.

XOXO

A Present For You.

To start your day right. My best friend told me about Dub FX, and I think that you should hear this before you head out to start your day. The right way.

"Well, I know it's late, and it's probably Fate that I can't get through to you, but I needed to hear your voice in my ear to start my day anew. But your phone was off, and I missed your calls-- now you're fast asleep. So when you get up and you're ready to rock, you can make my mobile beep. You can make, you can make, you can make my mobile beep. Oh, just make my mobile beep."



Well, that didn't work out QUITE the way I wanted-- the song quoted is "Wandering Love," which is NOT the player-- but I highly suggest "Wandering Love," "Love Someone," "Intentions," and "Love Me Or Not." Here is a guy who writes about emotions, and writes/lyricizes about emotions WELL. With a catchy beat. First houseparty back in the states-- guess what's playing?

XOXO

Can You Hear Me Now? GOOD.

Possibly one of the things that we hate most about being a woman (other than the PMS and the bloating and how hard it is to lose weight,) is that we have this innate desire to KNOW. Know what's good. Know what you're up to. Know what restaurant in town is now "hot." Know what our friend said to our other friend. Know whom is sleeping with whom. And most of all, know why you aren't calling or texting or emailing us back.

It makes me feel like such a traitor to my usually-relaxed personality when I realize I've turned into one of those harpy bitches staring at her phone like, "Um, hello? I sent you a message. RESPOND TO IT, PLEASE." Usually, I am not like this. Usually, it is my mother who is the one being like, "Have you heard back from so-and-so? When was the last time you talked to Nora? How's Matt? Have you called your grandmother lately?" while I sit in one of the barrel chairs and make the universal "calm down" motion with my hands, and be like, "Chilllllllll, mama. All in good time. People are busy. I'm not stressing, so why are you? If they have something to say, they'll call. Why would you call if there's nothing new to talk about?"

But sometimes, despite best efforts, we all succumb to this. As I outlined briefly in a recent previous post, I know that part of my personal issue with it comes from the fact that one day, there was no getting through to someone I cared about; the calls and texts and responses stopped for absolutely no reason, leaving me hurt and confused. The other part is just general woman-worry. Really, when it comes down to it, I really don't need to know THAT MUCH. Half of the texts I send are completely useless and don't demand real responses and are of the "I am bored and looking for you to distract me" variety. Which can be hard when their recipient isn't bored and isn't looking for distraction and in fact, YOU are distracting THEM.

But, the eternal harpy in me protests, really, how much time does it take to send a quick response back?

I should be the last person to be pointing fingers. Communication isn't one of my strong points in the first place, unless it suits me, as most of my friends, family, and men could tell you. I'm notoriously horrendous at A.) first and foremost, actually picking up my phone, B.) responding to messages, and C.) responding to my own texts, and yet, I find myself flipping a shit, or, ok, not really-- more accurately, cocking the eyebrow of heavy judgement and tapping my toe waiting for a timely response. It is so one-sided. I enjoy being in the wind; what I do not enjoy is the person I'm trying to get a hold of being in the wind. It's not being high-maintence-- I am not one of those girls you have to call every day, or even every other day. When this happened to me, I was baffled. You mean, people-- they actually call just to see how your day was? Really? I liked this. What I don't like is that feeling of mandatory check-in, like a telephonic prison-break. Call me every day expecting conversation time or for absolutely no reason, and you've got yourself onto the fast-track of getting sent straight to voicemail. Yes, I am guilty of it, too.

But having free time, usually something I don't allow myself because I consider it destructive in large and unstructured doses when paired with boredom, proves itself the downfall of many smart, perfectly sane women. Multiple times this break I have considered flinging the goddamn phone into a snowbank off the deck, because then, by god, it would have a legitimate reason not to ring, that I know about. (I have always been a big fan of practicing proactive offense. And proactive defense. And being passively-aggressive. It is one of my less charming and more aggravating quirks.) My advice to you is this: STEP AWAY FROM THE PHONE, and no one gets hurt. Leave it somewhere. Don't cart it around with you; the lack of ringing will be all that more apparent. Unfortunately, in East Gomorrah, my phone is the only contact I have with the outside, civilized world. I am chained to the thing I hate the most. Freud would have a field-day.

I try to be fair, really, I do. People are busy. There are far, FAR more important things to do than respond to a text, like, save children, be on vacation, not interrupt the rest of a movie theater, be out of service or like two of my closest friends be travelling internationally, be "busy" with a S.O, buy that $12 cashmere sweater before some other bitch does, actually focus on your job, give all your attention to your driving and not cause a 12 car pile-up, and celebrate a birthday or holiday with friends and family actually present and in front of you rather than staying glued to your cell phone. As Miss Molly Ford of Smart, Pretty, and Awkward noted, "People standing in front of you are always more important than a text message on your phone."

But still, like any other woman, there are times that I worry that I look like this chick, right here...

None of us mean to, I promise. None of us mean to nag, or complain, or make you feel like any less of a good friend or sibling or cousin or guy. (In fact, we are trained from the time we are still in diapers NOT to nag, because nobody likes a nag. And it's true.) It's not you-- it's us. It's us worrying why that guy never called after we gave him our number, or after a first date, or after he said he would, when really, it's clear. It's us worrying about how you used to call every day or text us for at least a half an hour every afternoon, and now that things are comfortable and you feel like you don't have worry about us running off with a new best friend/other sibling/new guy without you, you've stopped "just checking in." Well, here's the doozy: just when you are feeling comfortable enough to not have to talk to us everyday or every other day, we have gotten used to it. We've (wrongly) grown to depend on it. No one can keep that sort of instantaneous gratification up, and we are just starting to realize stamina's limitations. We're just feeling smug about the fact that we found someone who knows the importance of good communication, and then you go and pull the rug right out from under us, wrap your line of communication up in it, throw it off the wharf, and call it a day.

It's bizarre; I know. I suck at being a caring niece and granddaughter and even daughter and calling my family ANYWHERE near regularly enough, and I'm not the person my friends would ever call in the middle of an emergency for some quick action because lord knows I may not even pick up my phone or, god forbid, send them straight to voicemail, but I expect you to respond to me promptly, and what I am good at is casually staying in touch with the people, like, once a blue moon, and still having it be ok. Maybe that's what spoils me. I can not call my best friend or close friends from high school for months or even a year, and yet, when one of us finally does, we just pick it up right where we left off. Yet, with the people that you see regularly, you can't. That level of familiarity isn't there yet. You're still wondering "Does he like me? Does she like me? Do they miss me? Or are they off cavorting around town with my new replacement?" Women, as a general rule, love making worry-monsters in our brain. We're hard-wired for it. Some of us have managed to preform partial lobotomies-- years later, I'm rid of the "I'm being cheated on RIGHT NOW!" monster day-dream, but still working on sawing off the connection of the "They are having so much fun without me" one-- but we still all have that faint, wiggling suspicion that you really might be better off without us. Which would just suck.

But-- BUT-- good luck finding the woman who will actually admit to you that she is fine not hearing from you. Really. I've been thinking about this: is there any way to broach the topic without sounding like a completely whiny, insecure-- yes, nagging-- bitch? No. No, I really think there is no proactive way to approach this, save possibly the "destroying your own phone" tactic I've been contemplating, there is not. There is no possible way to say, "Um, hey, I've sent you a few text messages; not sure if you got them, because you haven't been responding to them...know you're busy, but it'd be nice to hear from you..." without sounding like a total ninny. (By the way, that is totally my speech. You can steal it if you really think it accomplishes anything. I don't think so.)

And so, women deal with it different ways. This is the one major deciding factor between Carrie Bradshaw and myself. As any half-assed Sex and the City watcher could tell you, she actually had the balls and/or lack of caring about sounding a little pushy or questioning to pick up the phone and make that sort of call. I, on the other hand, take the chicken-shit route and figure that I'll sleep on it and tomorrow, won't care so much. It works, in theory. Dorothy Parker immortalized the tango of phone hate and women best-- "It'd be such a little thing; just RING!"-- in her short story "A Telephone Call."

Parker wonders, much more eloquently than I ever could, (and most women echo,) "Suppose a young man says he'll call a girl up, and then something happens, and he doesn't. That isn't so terrible, is it? Why, it's going on all over the world, right this minute. Oh, what do I care what's going on all over the world? Why can't that telephone ring? Couldn't you ring? Ah, please, couldn't you? You damned, ugly, shiny thing. Damn you, I'll pull your filthy roots out of the wall, I'll smash your smug black face in little bits...Oh, what does pride matter, when I can't stand it if I don't talk to him? Pride like that is such a silly, shabby little thing. The real pride, the big pride, is in having no pride. I'm not saying that just because I want to call him. I am not. That's true, I know that's true. I will be big. I will be beyond little prides."

Would it kill you to call first and not wait on them? No. But it's always better if they do. Would it kill me to actually form and enunciate the words "I miss you"? Probably. So instead, I hope it's implied. Will we actually ever tell you when we've been acting like a crazy person by the phone? No. We'd voluntarily die by our own hand or painful self-inflicted torture first, screaming "I am an independent woman!" the whole way. Could we ever make that speech asking you if you've really been too busy to text? Probably not. We probably don't even need to. Deep down, we know that there's nothing to worry about. We trust you. We know that you probably won't discard us like a used tissue for the next friend/sibling/woman. Deep down, we just masochistically like to have something to fret over. When something is naturally easy, no drama involved, self-fretting is the only outlet we have. We try and hide it. Well, most of us do. This is pretty much the equivalent of letting my freak-flag fly high and proud. I hope a get a few "amens!" from ladies to back me up, here, so it's not just me. (It is SO not just me. In fact, it is RARELY me.)

So what can you do for us so that you don't have to worry that we're going Parker ourselves and sitting and staring at the phone and stewing in our own self-disgusted juices and you are secretly getting blasphemed for honestly being just busy? It's so simple. It's almost stupidly simple. When you do get two seconds, call or text back. Honestly. Nothing makes someone feel better than a call saying, "Hey, I am really not neglecting you; I really am busy." And nothing, in a pinch, fills that gap like a quick text back to let us know you really are paying attention and care and aren't off having crazy adventures with the entire kick-line of Rocket City Girls and a guy mysteriously named "Fuzz" while we are painting our nails for the fourth time for tortuous fun and trapped in the house in a blizzard counting snowflakes. We really want to look like this girl when we're talking to you, and not the other ones.

In the spirit of reciprocation, here's what we pledge to do for you:

- Always say "thanks for getting back to me," and let you know that it, and you, are really appreciated.

- Let you know how happy we are to talk to you. if we don't say it out-right, we promise to sound it.

- Not take your communication for granted.

- And never, ever lead on to the fact that two minutes before your ringtone started, we were holding our phone up and making crabby faces and mocking it like a child. "Really? Really? You're really going to play this game with me? Ring. Ring, or I will tear your face-plate apart and make your wiring squeal for mercy while I disassemble you. Ring, dammit! RI--SHIT!...Uhh, hello? Heyyy! How are you? No, no, don't worry about it; I'm really busy, too!"

So, love us. Love us, anyway. We are women; this is what we do; and we can't help it any more than you can help the fact you grow manly body hair and still think farting and poop-jokes are hilarious. And to each his or her own.

XOXO

...And it just rang. I am not even shitting you. Twice during the writing of this, I got those coveted responses. People. Stop being so good. (No, really-- keep it up, please! I don't like feeling needlessly neurotic. And I can say it; you can't.) If I could fill an entire post up with the words "Thank You" and get away with it, I would. You deserve to be appreciated.