Giving Up The Ghosts

Last night, I had a dream about the first boy I ever really liked and had a mad, raging, multi-year-long crush on. It was an interesting dream, because in it, he was just as blase and indecisive as he had been in real life. Finally, driven to the end of my proverbial rope by despair and out of my wits with frustration, I wrote him a letter, outlining the fact that as long as he couldn't choose to keep a monogamous relationship either between me and him or him and my friend, I was done-- I wanted nothing to do with him. I upheld my promise pretty well-- until we survived a life-or-death situation together, caved under the pressure, had sex again, and then I got to confront my friend while helping her move from her apartment about the fact he was playing us both.

It was an emotionally-charged, fascinating dream-- possibly made more interesting by the appearance of the ex at the tail-end of it, as well as the fact that I knew that my first crush was actually the symbolical representation of my last relationship. I woke up, utterly fed up, and started thinking about the lengths that women will go through to try to keep a relationship.

I have never been a fan of the ultimatums, unlike much women. I firmly believe that if you're going to make a "if...than" statement, you should be willing to stand by it under pain of death, dismemberment, or break-up, and, as my dream obviously revealed, I've never really been great at doing that. If a woman gives a man an ultimatum-- "It's done forever and ever until the end of time when the Universe is sucked into a black hole if you ever sleep with another woman"-- and then doesn't actually have the balls to stand by what she said in earnest, it teaches both of them that A.) A woman can say things that she absolutely doesn't mean, and B.) That he can get away with it. I consider both outcomes horrible things. And I'm always quick on the draw to call a bluff. So, instead, I stick to the "Do it once, shame on you; do it twice, shame on me, I'm leaving," mentality. It works, for the most part. In real life, not only was I able to walk away from my first crush when he perpetrated events much like the ones in my dream last night, but I also repeated my feat of fortitude and strength again when the ex repeated similar events, later in my life.

And yet, I find myself still dreaming of them both. What does this say about me; about them?

Despite the fact that we grew up together and still are in casual touch, I hadn't thought about my first crush in months before last night, so I happen to think he was just a handy vehicle for my dream-self to craft the morality lesson of last night's sleep around. As for the ex...well, that's a more slippery slope, but I can explain where the specter of him came from, too. Before I went to sleep last night, I was watching a movie when the dishy main actor suddenly smiled, and in a blinding flash of realization, I realized why I was drawn to him-- he very much resembled the ex, especially when he smiled. I started flipping back through my Rolodex of Previous Relationships, trying to put famous faces to my exes who resembled them. I made the same obvious match of Aaron Eckhart to someone as I had when I'd been seeing him, but, other than him, the only other one of my ex-lovers who I could pin similar faces on was the ex, and as I kept coming up with names of people who I thought looked like him-- the guy from the movie; Emile Hirsch; Adem Ljajic-- I started wondering why, to me, he was one of my most recognized faces. It wasn't the fact that he was my longest running on-again, off-again thing; it wasn't the fact that I truly loved him-- I truly love my most recent ex, but I was fucked if I could come up with a doppelganger for him, so there goes that theory. I will admit to the fact that in his heyday, the ex was certainly one of the most striking and handsome men I have ever seen, let alone been with, so maybe that was it. We human beings can be incredibly shallow, after all.

The ex was beautiful, and he and I shared a lot of emotional history-- and hysteria-- together. But does that, and the fact that I can still catch glimpses of him in other people mean that I in any way desire him back? Oh, helllllllll noooooooo.  Let's face it, I'm a little bit of a masochist, and a little pain never really hurt anyone, but I would have to be declared clinically insane to ever go back to him. THAT much pain and turmoil he put me through just isn't worth it; no matter how attractive he was, no matter what we had in common; no matter the fact that we shared friends, professions, and a common life. I remember how miserable I could be when I was with him, and in general, I tend to believe that there is one thing human beings should never actively seek out to be, and that thing is miserable. Learning that lesson through him-- and, in some ways, the baby starter steps to it with my first crush-- was possibly one of the defining moments of my life thus far, and it has always served as a valuable lesson every time another relationship starts to turn the same way. I am more important to myself than a man will ever be, no matter how much I happen to love him. And if he makes me miserable, well-- then someone has to go, and it's sure as hell not going to be me. One of the most important things you can ever learn is how and when to go about giving up the ghost of relationships failed, past, and never to be repeated again.

XOXO

Growing Pains

There are some things in life that are just naturally painful. Root canals. Cute shoes that are unfortunately too tight. When your friend pinches you to shut up after you say too much. Spider bites. And talking to your exes about your current relationships.

I may have been clear in the past that just talking to your exes in the first place is probably painful enough, as you've got some colorful history, and sometimes, it's just easier to pretend it (and that person) doesn't exist. But there are some exes that you can't just wish away or out of your life, because, let's face it, at one point, you loved this person, and even if you've since fallen out of love with them and/or moved on, you still bump into them, or you still have mutual friends with them and still occasionally wander through each other's social lives. Or they still keep showing up on your cell phone's screen.

A few weeks ago, I was riffling through the kitchen cupboards on a raccoon-like rampage at 2 AM for something sweet when I heard my text ringtone go off back in my bedroom. Thinking it was the current boy, as we share insomniac tendencies and are prone to late night conversations, I grabbed a chocolate chip cookie, and ate half of it in the time it took me to take my sweet time getting to my room, grabbing my phone, and sauntering back into the kitchen to prepare a response. When I flicked the screen's lock up and saw my ex's name instead, I froze. Cookie crumbs dropped from my hand, as well as the pit of my stomach, not to mention anything about my previously ravenous appetite. I texted back, more incited with his extremely casual text than anything else, and had to take a seat when I realized I was dizzy from this sudden turn of events. Our conversation quickly boiled down to him asking if I'd come over (and believe me, SOMEONE wanted to enjoy some cookie that night other than me), but other than establishing the loss of desire to finish the rest of my cookies and being saved from my sweet-tooth, it also established some odd revelations:

1.) I was able to turn my ex down, something I previously did not know I was humanly capable of. I deserve the Congressional Medal of Honor for this. You may not think so. You don't know my ex.

2.) This meant I liked the guy I am currently seeing a lot more than I previously realized. Oh. OH.

3.) In the moment of having to explain to my ex that I would not be coming over this time, or any other time in the foreseeable future, I felt a sudden wave of extreme tenderness and empathy toward him. It can't be easy, I thought, to reach out to someone you haven't seen or spoken to in awhile, let alone slept with, and admit that you need them for one of your basest desires. I certainly know how hard that is for me, and knowing that I was about to be turning him down made me feel incredibly caring toward him, in a totally platonic way. It made me wonder, what is the least painful way to talk about your new relationship with your exes?

It feels odd to be sympathetic with your ex, and nearly even protective of their feelings again, especially if you haven't interacted with them for awhile. But there I was, finding myself asking how he was after telling him I was seeing someone else, wanting to make him feel like it wasn't a total loss to go out on a limb, wanting him to know that even if he lost the girl, he hadn't lost the friend, instead of saying, "I wasted a year on you, to have to cheat and lie and use me, and now, NOW you expect me to roll over from a guy who's actually treating me like a princess, just because you finally decided on your own accord that you want me?" like I would have wanted to a few months ago, when I was still raw and fresh and sure that I would never heal, that I would never find someone to right the wrongs. Surprise.

A half hour after his initial text and being turned down, he surprised me by texting back and asking if my new S.O was a good guy. I told him he was, and thanked him for asking. I thought this was a good move. I thought it was classy. And then I got another text from him last night. And this time, I had to be firm about it and tell him clearly that I was currently monogamous with someone else, even after he offered so gentlemanly to pay for my cab fare over to his place (the first time he ever offered to pay for anything in the last year and a half we've known each other in a romantic sense). "Well, if you wanna take me up on that let me know. Anytime, probably," he told me, and it was suddenly like I was back in Italy and had to be very straight-forward about the fact that nothing was going to be happening, while still being polite as to not start an international incident.

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm pretty happy right now."

Strange, as he used to be the person I was thinking of while gently turning other men down. I was caught in a sudden kaleidescope of time fragments, thinking about how I used to hold out on other guys for him; how he and I had our own falling out; how I was now holding out on him in favor of another man, while at the same time learning how to put aside my feelings of disappointment and disgust about our dissolution in favor of seeing him as a real person again, a real person who went out on a limb with no promise of a safety net, whose feelings could be crushed, who was trusting me to at least let them down gently-- which, to my surprise, I found myself doing as I thought of him as my friend and the man I once loved for reasons I once knew well, and not just an X in a box for "been there, done that." Oh, how times change. And how YOU change.

XOXO

The Shape And Size Of Relationships

Relationships come in all different shapes and sizes and styles, like any good department store's merchandise. Some relationships are only made to fit you for a season before you outgrow them, where as others are cut so versatilely to go from brunch with his mother to the football game with his boys. Some are itchy and uncomfortable and don't get worn for long before they're relegated to another home, via consignment shop, while yet others are so luxuriant and sensual that you can't help but wearing them over and over and over again, even when it's not an appropriate occasion. Some relationships are made to only fit one couple, while the tradition of dating seems to suit thousands, even millions, and be coveted by still others. The point is, however much we might think we look good in one particular style, no single relationship is the same as another couple's or looks the same on the people who are in it as it would with any other person in the same equation. They're all individual, all unique, all a wonderful one-of-a-kind piece of couture. No one can declare any sort of "relationship fashion."

Some of us need to see the person we're with everyday. Some people would prefer being single. Some iPhone couples run a constant chat conversation with each other, 24/7, even if they're just in the other room. Some couples only meet once or twice a month, and still see other people. Some husbands and wives sleep in separate beds, even separate bedrooms (though the idea of sleeping in a separate bed, let alone room, sends my insomniac bed-partner-loving self into a state of panic). Some girls prefer not to call their long-term partner their "boyfriend" because it sounds childish, even though some unmarried 40 year old women love calling theirs that for the sense of nostalgia. Some couples move in together quickly, after only a month or two, while others wait until becoming engaged, or married, to share a lease. One of my friend's fathers lived in an apartment in New York City for work during the weekdays, commuting to Connecticut from Friday night to Monday morning to live with his wife and children, whereas my mother, used to having my father around for the past 37 years, hates to spend a single night alone without him, feeling odd when he's not there. And as I previously mentioned, I hate sleeping alone, while I always sleep the best the night AFTER whoever I'm currently sleeping with leaves. Those are just examples of 11 different relationships, and none of them can be considered a "classic."

I'm currently seeing someone who demonstrates this point perfectly. We live in different towns, and have different circles of friends. I go to college; he works long nights. But I knew he was worth a little bit of impatience and the extra effort to see him when he kept making it a priority to see me, at least once a week, and despite of everything else. We now spend one or 2 day chunks of time with each other when we can; other nights, he can only make it into town for a few hours. The point is to maximize the quality of your time together-- if we're going on day 2 in a weekend of co-existion, I don't feel bad taking an hour or two here or there to go to my class on campus or do my homework while sitting side by side with him in bed in the morning. If we've only got a few hours, we keep things focused-- we stay home, eat together, catch up, spend time relaxing and talking, and watch a movie to give us some bonding time. In between visits, we keep in touch electronically, through either text or chatting-- though talking on the phone might be a more intimate ideal, I can't help but preferring the written word mediums; I am such a writer. All in all, we get to spend about a third of every month together-- 10 nights in 30, a few more days here and there. But it works perfectly for our needs-- while I have time to write so I don't miss (many) deadlines, he has time to do the things with his guys that he wants to and time to chill at home. I'm more happy seeing him when it's possible than I ever was seeing someone frequently a few days a week who while only physically 10 minutes away in town, was light years away from me emotionally and in terms of effort and desire. It shows. I look happier. I'm dressing differently.

I'm also learning new things, one of the benchmarks of any good relationship, platonic or otherwise-- the perennially Single Girl who struggles with feelings of independence when letting a guy pick up all of the tab, I'm learning how to wear the perfect balance of gratitude and grace when it's his Amex on the counter and back account digits rolling back; how to adjust to someone else's quirks and sleeping style and snoring and eating habits; and when to gracefully admit defeat and need of assistance and call someone to be waiting outside the front of the club for me because I am too drink, drank, drunk to get to him. I'm even learning when to take someone's arm when offered so I can lean on it, because there is someone I can finally lean on. And to my surprise, it's not even cramping my "single and fabulous" style. In fact, it's evolving to become part of myself, a newer version, this year's It model. And it looks damn good on me.

The point is, it is not the title on the relationship or the label that you give it or each other that counts-- it's the time, effort, and emotion that you put into and get from it that really matters. Never let anyone else dictate your style, either. If you're wearing a casual relationship when nothing but a wedding gown will do for you, you're always going to be uncomfortable, but as soon as you find the right match and become your own designer, I'm sure you'll find something that you can make work and will look beautiful wearing it. As Samantha once said, "...The true test of a relationship is if it makes you feel like this (frowns), or like this (smiles beatifically)." Be with someone who makes you smile, if not all the time, than most of the time, and I promise you that you will always feel like the luckiest and happiest girl in the world.

Other than me, of course.

XOXO

Three Short, Hilarious Stories I Couldn't Flesh Out Into Full Entries.

Caught Red-Handed:

For a year, I slept with the same guy. While there were perks-- intimate knowledge of how each other's body worked, relaxed expectations because you knew exactly what you were going to get, the fact that you find a routine that works perfectly every time-- ending that relationship and having a new partner has been a little thrilling. Sometimes, more than just a little.

I had a gynecological exam yesterday morning because I practice what I preach (GET TESTED, PEOPLE!), as well as am very adverse the the idea of having babies, and needed my birth control script refilled. The first sign that this may have been a really potentially awkward experience was when I looked at the nurse and asked, "If I've had sex within the last 24 hours, is it going to affect my Pap results or cell samples?" The second sign would have been the fact that my ass is currently redder than a drunken Irishman sweating under a Caribbean sun with no sun umbrella in sight.

While it's great for health insurance perks and getting appointments ASAP, the problem with having a mother who works in a hospital and knows EVERYONE is that I'm pretty sure that while nothing was said to me, other than a shocked expression quickly covered up by some very pointedly raised eyebrows, someone might be asking my mother shortly if I'm "safe at home" or if I'm being beaten. Having to explain it's consensual...very, very awkward.

However, good news-- they've now replaced the metal duck-lips with plastic ones. Slightly warmer. Less terrifying than having metal inside of you.

Be The Bigger Man:

The guy behind the counter was cute. Very cute. Nice eyes. Very boy-next-door in plaid and shaggy blonde hair. I saw his eyebrows flash up and down in the universal sign for "well, hello there, gorgeous!" as I walked toward him, heels clicking through the thin nubby carpet, and he grinned as he asked, "Hi, how are you?"

"Great, thanks," I said, putting the box of Magnums down on the counter between us. And I shit you not, he looked down at the box, as did I, and stared silently at them for a full 5 seconds in dumb shock, then went on to complete the rest of the transaction in complete silence, except for a half-hearted "have a good night," as I slipped them into my purse.

"Oh, I will," I told him.

Ladies Is Pimps, Too:

I am firmly against parents being allowed on Facebook. Why? Because if your friends accept their friend requests, even if you don't, you still wind up finding things. Like this.

My friend Tessa griped in her status, "How to lose a guy in 10 days? Uhmm a more appropriate question would be how to get a guy in 10 days..."

My mother's response? "Tessa, you should touch base with Carissa."

THANKS, MOM. BECAUSE THAT LOOKS REAL GOOD. Something else to add to my resumee-- columnist, blogger, peer advisor, man finder, pimp. I'm so glad my $40,000 a year multi-faceted liberal arts private college education is paying off.

XOXO

Can I See Some Classification?

Lately, my most over-used phrase has been "He's not my boyfriend." As the boy himself pointed out the other night, he gets why when he kisses me in public, people assume I'm his girlfriend, and sometimes it's easier to just not correct them, and I hear that and am all over with agreeing with it-- I let it slide too, when it's not really important. But still, if I have to tell my mother one more time that he is not my boyfriend, and that she needs to stop telling people that I have a boyfriend in favor of telling them that I'm casually seeing someone, there's gonna be a matricide charge. So, A.) because my mother reads my blog, and B.) because I feel like a primer isn't a bad thing if you're wondering what the hell I'm talking about when I say I'm "seeing someone", here's a written guide on the classifications of relationships:

If you think someone is the bee's knees and they might not even know you exist, you're crushing on someone. Conversely, they might know they exist. They might like you, too. But other than talking and hanging out, if no one's made the first move, you're still just crushing on someone.

If you're being blatantly obvious that you're crushing on someone, and they're talking about other girls or other guys and are asking you for advice or help with landing the opposite (or same,) sex, or call you "bro, man, homie," or any other generic, genderless term of affection, you're just friends. You are in the friend-zone. Even if they were stupifyingly drunk, you're probably not getting any. Also, you could just be friends if they're someone that you've never had a single sexual thought about, and the same is true for them about you. Caveat: If you're NOT being blatantly obvious that you're crushing on them, now might be a time to start, because if they DO also like you and you say nothing, you will still get stuck in the friend-zone. Not, as I hope you want to be, in at least the next classification, where sex is involved.

If you're having sex and he's never hinted at or tried moving things out of the bedroom or car or motel room (other than to change location for sex), you're hooking up. Also classified as fucking, or being fuck buddies.

If he takes you out more than twice and drops cash on you, no matter how much or how little it is, and keeps making noise about wanting to keep taking you out and/or treating you-- you're dating. And he's a keeper.

If you're spending time together, going out, sleeping together (both sexually and physically in the same bed), in each other's top 5 contacts lists, and have met the important people in each other's lives-- roommates, friends, parents, etc.-- you're seeing each other. Now, there are two classifications to seeing each other: casually, and exclusively. "Casually" implies that there's been no exclusivity talk or commitment; that if you don't see him a certain number of times in a week, it's cool, and that both of you respect each other's social lives without needing to be in it 24/7. "Exclusively" just means that you had that chat where you said that you only want to be with the other, and you now have an excuse to castrate him with the closest dull yet pointy object if you catch him with another woman after that conversation.

Another word that you can use in place of "seeing each other" is that you're together. He knows that you're together. You know that you're together. Both your friends know that you're together. The people that see you out and about know that you're together. But just like the difference between "casually" and "exclusively" seeing each other, that girl who he's chatting up at work when you're not there might not know that you and he are together. So get it confirmed in conversation if it's going to bug you. Or if it's been a few months that you've been "together." Then, it's just time to shit or get off the pot. While relationships aren't about sprinting through the classifications or steps, they generally do need to progress, though it takes time to get to know someone, and if you'd like to go to the next level with them. Exclusivity is always the next step in the relationship at this point-- it just takes some people longer to work around to it than others. And if he won't give you his exclusivity, or if you're unwilling to stop trying to get with other people, then it's time to end it...

...AKA: break up. You can use the term "break up" to describe what happened with anyone at any point after hooking up-- it's just easier and clearer what you mean that way, rather than saying "we're no longer communicating," which means you could still be fucking, just not talking. (Hey...it happens.) Even if you were just sleeping together, if you're not anymore, if you had a nasty conversation about why you won't be anymore, you broke up.

NO ONE is anyone's boyfriend or girlfriend until the question is raised and the ok is given to refer to them as such. This would mean that you need to either say, "Hey, would it be ok if I called you my boyfriend?" or he says "I'd like you to be my girlfriend." Even if y'all have been dating and sleeping together for two or more months, if you haven't talked about it outright, he ain't yo boyfran, as my friend Caiti would say. In which case, if he does something above and beyond what he needs to do in your current status, you can tell him he's the best "not-boyfriend" ever. Or if you do something above the call of duty for him or his friends, you're allowed to comment on the fact with your friends that it officially made you the best not-girlfriend ever. The "not" is the most important part of this phrase. It shows that you're aware of the fact you don't have this label, yet are perfectly capable of and willing to do the things that would come with it. Strangely, I prefer the title "not-girlfriend" to that of "girlfriend." I think it's because it means I care about someone enough that I'm willing to do what I don't really have to, just because I want to do it. Caveat: Sometimes it's easier not to fight society's previously conceived conventions and try to explain that someone is not your boyfriend. In these cases, either grin and bear it, as we talked about earlier, or correct them if it really irks you that much, or you feel that you need to our should. If you're stuck for a term to correct them with, "significant other" covers it well as a blanket term. A "significant other" is someone who is the most significant other person in your life that you're in a relationship with-- be it a not-boyfriend or not-girlfriend, or a not-quite-yet-fiancée, or your baby-daddy who isn't thinking about making an honest woman out of you yet, but is in your life and supportive.

If you've moved on to seeing each other exclusively, and have had the labels conversation, you're in a serious, committed relationship. You might now be going on vacations together, be invited to each other's family events, thinking of signing a lease together, or he may have started casually browsing the front window displays of jewelry stores. (Note-- this classification is highly age and maturity regulated.)

If you signed a piece of paper together, exchanged rings, and remember saying "I do," I hate to break it to you, but you're married. That is the only time it is appropriate for anyone to call your girl "the wifey."

And now for the toughest term-- a relationship. A "relationship" can be taken a few different ways. You have a relationship with your parents. You have a relationship with your friends. You have a relationship (and probably, some sort of understanding,) with your landlord. And you certainly have a relationship with the person of the opposite or same sex in your life, regardless of the fact if you're just fuck buddies or if you're in a serious, committed relationship. One of my exes explained it this way, and tricked me into a relationship with him in doing so, which was probably the most clever act a man has ever pulled on me as well as the only way a guy could wrangle me into something: "Technically, we've already had relations (read: sex), so whether you like it or not, we're now in a relationship." It's true-- sex changes things between two people. So does him taking you out, even if you haven't slept with each other yet. And if he's spending nights with you, that's another step up the relationship pyramid right there-- not only are you together, but you also have a different relationship as bed partners. (He steals the sheets, you kick, and you're both learning how to deal with the other one while asleep.) So, if you have a different relationship with him that exceeds your friendship, no matter what it is, from sleeping together to being engaged, you're in a relationship with that person. Again, it can be serious or not serious, but dynamics between the two of you have changed.

So...readers...Mom...next time someone asks you what's going on with you and that dude that they're always seeing you with, or if your nosy neighbor who fancies herself a new-age matchmaker asks you if you're in a relationship, you can tell them, "Yes. I'm casually seeing someone, and I really like him." Case closed.

XOXO

Where Have All The Good Men Gone? Someone's Already Dating Them.

Like I've said, I enjoy a challenge and something new. After a year of riding the same merry-go-round, I decided to take a break from the one-man game and see what else was out there and offering itself's up, because, after all, what's good for the gander is good for the goose-- if you're not getting what you want and you need, and if there's no commitment, and he's off having fun elsewhere or not making up his mind-- you should be looking elsewhere, too. Respect yourself; know your worth. If one man won't appreciate it, chances are, another will. Start looking for that man, or men, if you feel like you just want to date casually at this point in time. Men have been doing it for years; it's time for women to start dating and mating like men, too.

And if there's anything he can do, I can do it better. Am I right, ladies, or am I right? Time for me to enter the world of dating, albeit a little bit late in RSVPing. Straight from the dating trenches, I bring you the secret, the Good, the Bad, the Ugly, the Ridiculously Attractive, and the Golden Rule:

The Secret: Your friend's friends are your secret, untapped resource. Ask around and see if anyone is hiding a great guy-- someone they used to date and have remained friends with with no residual desire, just a platonic friend, a brother or cousin or co-worker or classmate, etc. The good news is, your friend can vouch for their sanity, and knows what you're looking for, and can also play referee and deliver the rulings from the other side of the field; if they feel comfortable doing so, of course. (Guys, I hope you realize this goes for you, too-- your buddies could be sitting on some great girls to set you up with!)

The Golden Rule: 10 minutes of straight, uninterrupted talking is possibly one of the smartest moves you can make when you're getting to know someone. Plan the event surrounding those 10 minutes of bliss (or abject horror) accordingly. The object of this first date or meeting is to fill enough time doing something else so that you still don't know everything about each other, because hopefully, the suspense and good feelings created will lend themselves to a second meeting. Sporting events, where it's only considered decent to talk in between innings or quarters or commercial breaks, are a great choice if you're sports fans; catching a show or a concert is another venue that gives you time to re-group and be silent and think, rather than having to spend all the time together talking, which, let's face it, can be trying, or worse yet, means you run out of things to converse about. Though movies aren't generally considered the best since you're sitting silently side-by-side in the dark for 2 hours, it could maybe fly with the right person. Maybe.

The Good: "I offer my most sincere apologies but I have to run; I'll talk to you tomorrow, though."

The Bad: Just signing off or not responding to the last text or leaving. You'd be shocked and amazed how many guys do the "bye!" duck and run, or, don't even say that they're leaving. Common manners is saying goodbye; great manners are apologizing for an abrupt exit, and leaving a time-frame for the next time they'll be in touch. (Same goes for you, ladies-- let a guy know how much you've enjoyed talking with him, and let him know it's either ok for him to contact you again, or that you'll be in touch with him. Stop being so fucking aloof. Let him know he's done well and that you like him. For god's sake, flirt with it if you're into it. A little mystery never killed any romantic suspense, but being an Ice Queen sure as hell never started any grand passion.)

Women tread a fine line with dressing for dates. On one hand, I lived in Italy for 4 months and dropped some major cash on some pretty fashion-forward clothing. On the other hand, no woman should outshine her date-- the goal is to match each other in terms of dress. I'm not talking you two should be in matching tracksuits like how your mom used to buy you and your siblings all color-coordinated outfits for the holiday family photo, but rather, that the way that you dress will compliment the way that he dresses. (Because let's face it, women generally are more fashion-conscious then men. It's easier for us to think of all the outfit possibilities and align that with our plan.) However, this being said, it is always better for the woman to be a little more under-dressed than the man. This is because if a girl shows up dressed to the 9s, while a dude's in his flannel shirt and jeans, it's going to do 2 things: Make him feel self-conscious, and convince him that she's more invested than he is. When in doubt, GO CASUAL. Jeans, boots, and a shirt never went wrong. A skirt and a t-shirt is fine. Tailor your outfit to the location-- if it's a movie or a concert or bar, a dress will look out-of-place. If you're going out for dinner at a place where entrées are $20 and above, you might want to wear that dress there.

The Ridiculously Attractive: When a guy shows up with obvious effort put into his appearance. I dressed a little down; he showed up in a button-up cuffed at the wrists, trousers, and a fresh shave. His stock went through the roof.

The Ugly (Truth): I'm gonna say it-- I hate Facebook chat. I really, really hate Facebook chat. I usually sign in, scope out who's on, and then sign off real quick before any of the random people I went to high school with and haven't talked to in years decide it's time for a reunion! This being said, everyone and their mother is addicted to Facebook today, and it's generally a good place to get in touch with people, meeting, before, or in between or after dates. Today, I logged myself on and sat down, waiting through an excruciatingly weird conversation with one of my best friend's exes, just to ignore the person I actually wanted to talk to. Why? Because I'm a woman. We set up a scene so that we can wait around...and then ignore a guy until he starts talking to us, ESPECIALLY after a date or seeing him for one of the first times in person.

See, it's all about the chase. If you've just met up, or if you just went on the first date, contacting him first it going to cloud your waters. I mean, yes, we're big girls in the 21st century here, and if we like a guy, we know how to let him know. But it's also important to find out exactly how he feels about you. If it didn't go as well on his end as it did on yours, it'll show in how long it takes him to contact you. And if he's enthusiastic about you, you'll also know it by how little time it takes for him to say "hey" again. From there, you've got a pretty educated guess on how receptive he is to you, and if date 2 or meeting up again is an option.

Let's recap: I am perfectly comfortable asking a guy out (though I'd prefer he does, first). I'm fine with asking for digits-- asking for people's phone numbers should be routine by this point in your life. I even periodically open doors FOR MEN. But what am I, and nearly all other women-- and I'd be willing to bet large sums of money on this, if I had it-- still loathe to do? Be the one to make first contact. It's so fucked up, I know, but that's women for you. There. Consider yourself strapped. Go forth, and message her first.

Happy dating! And if you have any dating rules you live and die by-- send 'em in! Lord knows I need all the help I can get.

XOXO

And Lead Us Not Into Temptation.

As I may have stated previously, I am an extremely monogamous and loyal person. And though I'm currently not in any committed relationships, it genuinely makes me question my morals when feelings for two disparate people are happening at the same time. To me, the girl who always has a favorite of everything, and a firm opinion on why it's the best one, it feels like...emotional cheating.

The problem is, when things aren't "new" and "fresh" anymore, or, if you aren't getting what you need from someone, you're susceptible to anyone else who comes along and can offer you what's missing. This is where things start to get sticky. I have an incredibly fine line between "happiness" and "being kept occupied." It's hard for me to differentiate between the two, because, for me, being kept occupied makes me happy. What is always shocking is when I finally do separate if I'm happy from if I'm just spinning my wheels to be convinced that I am happy. Am I being kept occupied right now? Yes. Am I actually happy? No. Because I'm a big fan of the human connection. I like to be able to talk about random things, life plans, or share music, movies, or news with the people I think will enjoy them. In a functional relationship, this is great, because it means there's always something to talk about. But, when it's been awhile and the lines of communication are stunted for one reason or another, that's what I miss the most. And then along came an answer, and it sat down beside her.

What did I say? What did I say? Every time Juggernaut Ex comes into town, my current relationships are in for a change, either progressing, ending, or introducing someone new. Jeeesus. I'm getting too busy and too ambivalent for this shit.

Let me count the ways that women fall for looking elsewhere for what they're not getting:

All the women I know prefer to be pursued. All my bullshit about not wanting to be taken out is exactly that-- bullshit. I can't wait until some guy sees through it and just DOES it. Let's face it, if you looked at me and said, "Let's go get something for breakfast," or "Let me buy you a few dollar drafts," I'm not going to stop you. I am, after all, human, and therefore, need to eat and drink. And if I can eat and drink while casually talking without someone I am genuinely interested in, that sounds kind of like a win-win situation for all. And I do think that the definition of that example is a "date." And if you're clever enough to not say the word "date," and instead, ask me to "do something" or "see something" with you, well then...all the more power to you.

Though I was about 15 minutes of conversation, or one day (whichever came first) away from asking him out for coffee to get to know him better, he beat me to the punch when he suggested watching a highly contentious football game together. (I'm an Eagles girl who considers Michael Vick in his second-coming as the Jesus of football, and he's a Giants fan.) I knew that my love of football and Star Wars would eventually pay off with men. I mean, jesus, it took this long for someone to ask me to watch a game. What sort of inherent no-brainer is that? While I was perfectly comfortable and confident in asking him to grab a cup of joe, the fact that he put an offer out on the table first showed initiative and self-confidence. Both sexy traits.

They compliment you. Seriously. When was the last time that you said something legitimately sweet or complimentary, straight-out, to someone you've known or been with forever? You don't. That's the issue. At first, you're all about letting someone know that you're into them, and vice-versa. After awhile, you think it goes without saying that you think that they're the bee's knees, but we all still need to hear it sometimes.

Help. He asked about my writing program, and then went on to offer help facilitating contact with professionals in the food industry if I ever needed quotes or ideas for an article. Women, even if they say they don't need it-- and I'm a huuuge example of this-- still like to be offered help. It's like having a safety net behind us; if we fall, we know that someone's got our back.

Scintillating conversation. He had my interest at "microcosm." Once I find out that a guy has an over fourth-grade reading comprehension, yet is still kind and unpretentious, then he actually has a chance with me.

But how many players are you allowed to have on the field at once?
As my oldest friend Caiti said, "It's just ingrained in society that the man makes the first move. But girl, this is 2010. Welcome to the 21st century. I say if we can vote a man into office, we can ask him to be the only man between our legs."

What do you think? Where do you draw the lines of loyalty? Can you juggle being attracted to two or more people at once? What is your personal cut-off point when it comes to acting on it? How do you avoid temptation?

XOXO

Long Gone

Tonight, I went to a bar with one of my exes. (Don't worry; this is not one of "those" stories that involve the equation of an emotionally vulnerable woman + man from her past/present she can tell you full measurements of, and I mean, FULL measurements + alcohol = oops.) It actually wasn't as simple as that, because it never is-- when he originally got in touch with me, he said "coffee" and "afternoon," which as the day progressed later and later, turned into "beers" and "11 PM" by the time we actually connected with each other. As is prone to happen, as soon as we made firm plans, a dinner invitation with friends rolled in, I realized I had absolutely nothing to wear in my over-flowing closest that was suitable for this occasion of "hi, this is casual, and yet don't I look great?", another guy came over while I was supposed to be getting dressed, and yet another man texted me to ask if I had any plans for the night. Yes. Yes, I'd say I did. (I swear men have uncanny Spidey-sense about when other men are moving into territory. As I followed my mid-dressing visitor into the kitchen, I had a brief, terrified moment where I thought he was actually going to sit down at our kitchen table to chat and render me hopelessly late for this most very important of dates.)

It always blows my mind how skittish women are about calling guys to firm up plans, but after the ship has sailed, I swear to god it's the easiest thing in the world, mostly, because you don't give a shit. You stop worrying about who was the last one to call or text, or if you're blowing their phone up. He texted me on Wednesday to let me know he was coming into town. He called me this afternoon to work out a time and let me pick a location-- he always lets me pick the location, and this is such a good move on his part. I texted to re-affirm that plans were still on. He texted me to let me know where he was downtown before the bar if I wanted to stop by and grab a slice of pizza pre-drinks, and I called him when I was 5 minutes away from the bar to make sure he was there. I have been told that in a perfectly functional relationship, this is the sort of discourse a couple can have. I have only been able to seemingly achieve it with a few of my exes. I never said I don't have my communication issues.

Once there, standing, pint glasses in hand, face-to-face again after 2 years, it got interesting. I was surprised to find myself no longer sexually bowled over by him, even since our last meeting. Not much had changed in his life, while a lot had in mine-- it made for uneven conversation and the feeling that the student was outgrowing the master. He's 25 now, and I was standing in front of him, drinking legally, obviously not 18 anymore; we were both a little taken aback. And then "Hot Thing" by Talib Kweli came on, and I couldn't place it-- other than the fact that it's on my iPod-- and why it seemed so familiar, and why we were both suddenly so stiff, until I realized it was one of Those Songs from a dark night and twisted bed sheets. Awwwkward. Thanks, 3 Needs.

Afterward, we strolled Church Street to talk where we could actually hear each other talking about our respective semesters in Florence over DMX growling, and when our arms brushed, there was no static charge anymore. In my mind, that was the end of The End. Ship. Officially. Sailed. Off over the horizon. I really have no clue how and why these things work. It makes me wonder if I'll wake up tomorrow morning, or the morning after that, or 2 weeks from now, or 3 months, and suddenly, have no feelings left for people I've held on so doggedly to and weathered through so much with. Probably, actually. Sad, really.

I'm not going to lie about this: Every woman secretly hopes to hear that a guy she used to be with has found that he just isn't able to live without her. This is very rarely the case. But, as we of the XX chromosome persuasion have to know everything, and figuring that all this time and all those other men in between later, I thought it was high time to actually come out with it while he walked me home and ask him why exactly he still calls me every time he comes back to Burlington and asks to meet up.

But instead of admitting his misfortune on dropping off the face of the Earth after graduation and dropping me faster than a hot potato covered in ignited kerosene, when asked why he's kept in touch with me, 3 years later, he grinned his little grin and said, "I still like seeing you. I liked seeing you tonight. And I enjoyed the friendship that we had," and kissed the side of my head. Roughly translated from his Manslation, "I liked the way you blew me."

I have no hope for huMANity. Or my love life.

XOXO

When Women Re-Enter The Cave

One of my more endearing quirks is the fact that I'm one of those girls who always goes over to a guy's place, rather than having him come to me. A great way for my guys to figure out how I feel about them is if I invite them over or not: If I ask you to come over, I'm not stressing about you seeing where or how I live. In other words, we're great buddies. I'm comfortable around you. You can totally see where I sleep. But if I drag my feet about having you over more than George Clooney drags his feet about getting married; oophf, I may like you enough to not want you to see my dirty dishes, what science experiments my roommate and I are growing in our fridge, and be worried about you finding out how many pairs of shoes I really do own. (Ummm...it's a lot.)

The last man I had invited into my home slept in my bed, broke some bedsprings (yeahhh...let's not talk about that...) ate my food, broke my ottoman, and left his proverbial scent over everything I owned. I saw traces of him everywhere I looked, in my own things. It took a long time after the break up for me to be able to sit in my own apartment again without feeling like shit. It also took me a long time to get ready to invite another of my guys into my living space. So, in the meantime, I went out to their places a lot.

Women's mags would have a field day berating me for this (all that yadda on going into a space where he's in power, etc., etc.,), but there's something that I really love about being in Man Space. I like talking to the roommates, and admiring the attempts at interior decorating. I like drinking beer that isn't mine, and reading books I don't have on my own bookshelf before he wakes up in the morning. And I really, really like waking up in an apartment that isn't mine. A joke that really isn't a joke that I recently told a friend is that the shittiest part of a break-up is the fact that you can't retreat to someone else's territory when yours is hostile or boring. There are some nights you just want to not be home, or some ungodly early mornings that your landlord wants to come in to do some reconstruction work. Those are the sort of nights that it'd be nice to have enough money for a hotel, but, in failing that, would like to have the option of using the person you're sleeping with's bed instead. So, figure, spending the night at a guy's house is like going to a 2-star hotel with a prostitute. But in a more romantic, less illegal way.

I found this article from Glamour online today, and it was like it encapsulated everything that I love about going to my guy friend's places. While she may have liked the fact that when a dude is home, she knows where he is and with who, I like the whole "gather around the man cave" concept for another reason. One of my favorite parts about not staying home is being able to go over where a dude is hibernating at home and hang out with his buddies. At home, it's me, it's Alli, and it's His Little Shit Nicolai la Citta, who, having NOT been neutered and in retaining both of his furry balls, is probably the most testosterone-ridden thing we see around regularly. And as should probably be splashed across the headlines as it is so NOT breaking news in any sense, it's pretty obvious that I'm a really big Guy's Girl. I drink beer. I have a football team. I can out-quote you on Star Wars. I can identify how many cylinders a car has by sound. I sleep between to a collector's edition Batman comic book and a life-size cut-out of the Joker. I do pretty well for myself with guys, and I really love getting to know their friends.

But unlike the author, I like the man caves as much as the men inside of them, and obviously find it a huge turn-on when a guy has so thoughtfully "pimped out his man cave." It shows that appearances are just as important to him as they are to me and that his cleanliness is close to him being godliness. I was actually with a guy for awhile who had the most spectacularly neat room I've ever seen other than my own, and thought that this was the norm until I met one of his longtime girl friends who promptly spilled the beans that that was NOT true, and it appeared as though he'd been cleaning before I came over. I do the same thing. I was charmed. She thought it was hilarious.

One apartment full of men I know is decorated with the findings of one roommate's antiquing and flea-market finds. (Having side tables gets you far with me.) Another house of 4 guys has a cleaner bathroom than we do at Heaven on Union, and HANDTOWELS! One of my female friends lives with two of my guy friends, and together, they stock and share a refrigerator I am truly envious of that consists mainly of beer, expensive foreign cheeses, and meats. I clearly have such awesome guys in my life. Why would a girl NOT want to spend time in man caves like these?

Oh, right-- that whole asking to come over thing always sucks.

XOXO

Sex with an Ex: Distressed, or Progress?

Over an extremely rare burger and extremely good beer out with friends tonight, I got a text from one of my exes. He was not, shall we say, one of the prominent exes in my life; rather, a guy I was with for the last month of my freshman year of college, just before he graduated and fell off the face of the Earth, never to be heard from again, until the next time he happened to come back to Burlington, and every time he stopped in again after that. He is, of course, the resident ghost of "Night of the Living Undead Relationship", and since I wrote that, has re-orbited around from the wild blue yonder twice, neither of which time did I see him. We'll see if we really meet up to discuss life post Firenze this Saturday or not. One way or another, it's still a bit shocking every time it happens.

But it got me thinking, as I pulled a surprised face when I saw his name on my phone's screen and showed it to my incredulous roommate beside me, about your relationships with your exes. Some of them I like to pretend don't exist anymore. Some of them are perfectly nice people with whom we both had bad judgement in dating and it just didn't work out, and we still are friends are periodically hang out in large groups with our mutual friends or chat for a good 15 minutes when we run into each other on the street and part with a hug, no harm, and no foul. And some of them are still around, (or, at least, cycle around periodically like this Space Cowboy) and defy both definition or a close to a relationship.

While I may not be doing anything other than having coffee and speaking Italian with this ex, there are other things you can be doing with your exes than meeting up with the crew for brews or occasionally catching up via Facebook chat or Skype or when you go home for the holidays. How bad is sex with an ex, really? Cosmo seems to want us to believe that after re-joining your genitals, you promptly go up in flames of shame and defeat. "It's hot, it's naughty...oh yeah, and it's a really stupid idea. You know it's unhealthy, and that's precisely what makes it so damn good."

I can get behind this state of mind, and I have in the past: It's basically admitting you haven't met any better men, which is depressing at best, and degrading at worst. I even used to think that "you could always do better than yesterday's old news." Believe me. Some of my past "issues" are more fit to line hamster cages than anything else, and I still feel this same way about them. But not all of them are equally horrendous.

78% of Glamour readers also say that sex with an ex is a bad idea. Shanna Moakler, otherwise known as Travis Barker of Blink-182's on-again, off-again wife stands as the one lone vocal supporter of it: "As long as you go into it with a clear mind-set—knowing it’s complicated, knowing you have issues and knowing the relationship can’t go forward—I say yes! Do it! All of the pressure is off, and you can just enjoy each other as friends and lovers. [We’re] exes, but there’s still that substance there, that history."

Sure, this is still someone who you care a lot about. That's perfectly fine. You've spent a lot of time together. You know each other intimately. It's only right that you want to see the best for them. What I've come to realize is that you don't ever "get over" someone you were at one time in love with-- you just fall back out of love with them, gradually and almost unknowingly. The history and comfort that you have with each other can gleam in high contrast to the awkwardness of the mornings after or the futility of trying to meet new people who you like as much, if not more. But only if you have moved on enough in your own life that you don't still want to "be" with them can sleeping with them again really be called "safe." And even then, we can be back-stabbed by our very own brains, who believe that the release of oxytocin released during orgasm means LuV 4EvA, hehehe! So do yourself a favor so you don't find yourself back-sliding: DISAPPEAR.

Take a few days, a week-- whatever-- after the event and go all Witness Protection Program. There should be, at this point, nothing else that you need to talk about, so don't. Don't make excuses for it, and don't hang around. Go, enjoy your post-orgasmic bliss, and invest your energy and happiness somewhere else. (I hope by now you've learned that you can't depend on them as your sole source of happiness. It's all about YOU, sister.) Wait until you actually DO have a reason to talk to them to reappear. And no, "I'm horny again" is not a valid reason. Something like, "Hey, can I pick up the shoe I left there, and have you happened to find my car keys?" is. But then again, you have more than that one pair of shoes (I SINCERELY hope,) and you don't really need to drive anywhere for a few days. So give it some chill time. Do whatever it is you need to do to keep yourself balanced-- when I get lonely at night, I borrow my neighbor's amiable huge mutt Mason, who likes to spoon just like a human man (something I may or may not be coming around to), and give of just as much, if not more, heat. Mason, however, doesn't snore. As much.

Also, I find it really handy, when you are feeling a little weak, to remind yourself of all the hugely dickish moves they made. This is especially helpful in keeping you clear-headed if they're STILL occasionally slipping up and making the dickish move. In that case, I would almost be inclined to say thank them for making your life easier.

But strangely, it was Marie Claire's male blogger Rich Santos who encapsulated the whole ex-mystique thing so fully: "These days, I'm undecided on whether it's best to take someone back or swear them off after they've messed up. A lot of it depends on why they left your life or how they messed up... If you take someone back, they may think they can get away with treating you badly and they'll take advantage of you. When you have that familiarity with each other, it's so easy to fall into bad habits. For example, I've gotten back together with many women as a temporary Band-Aid for our mutual loneliness (which usually plays itself out in the form of sex with no real relationship). Usually, your heart is wrong and your head is right, but your heart wins out. Sometimes it's impossible to say "no," and that's OK." Or, as he then points out, it could be better than it ever was. Not being fully together anymore takes a lot of the pressure of a bona-fide relationship off-- my favorite part is that I am no longer obligated to answer to my exes. Problem is, that also means that they are no longer obligated to answer to you. See? Even out of a relationship, you can never win.

All in all, there's something to be said about your exes who are still current in your life. Whether or not you're into sex with an ex or not, get on with your bad self. Seeing my orbiting ex again always makes me realize how much I've matured and changed from when I was in love with him, and carrying on other relationships with exes teaches a delicate sort of teeter-totter between intimacy and friendship that you'll never learn any other way. I really think that the relationships you have with your exes AFTER the end of your "relationship" is the NEW relationship of the 21st century. It's your grown-up "we're all people here who have issues and needs" relationship. So embrace the ex. It's just up to you how full you decide you want that embrace to be.

So, what do you think? Ever been burned (a second time) by the same person? Are you one of the 78% against knocking some familiar boots, or are you one of the cool 22 who think there's something to be said for it? (Namely being, y'all know the bells and whistles {and emotional hang-ups} already.)

XOXO

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

The Things Women Never Say

I don't cry in public. I'm mortified when I cry in front of my friends. In fact, I flat-out believe that I should never cry; if I have to, I cry in the shower so it's like I never did in the first place. Getting me to admit fear or the fact that I feel something or want something is harder than getting me to submit to vaccinations administered through needles or local anesthesia. And I have not had either in the past 4 years. I think it's a woman thing: We're taught that there are some things that you should never say to a man-- never expose your flaws, never explain your fears, and certainly never ask for anything more. But I think that one of my favorite things about Carrie, and the trait that I admire most about her, is her ability to speak up and speak her mind when it comes to the men in her life. Be it the fact that she'll pick up the phone and dial without thinking (while I get the shakes just texting if I think that it won't be welcome,) or that she doesn't seem to care if a guy thinks that she talks too much or is too blunt, I think this is an excellent example of the fearlessness with which she approaches her relationships that we all could stand to emulate.

"Ok, I know I've lost a little of my power here, and I'm pretty that most women's magazines would say that what I just did was a very bad idea but...it's not your fault because I never say it."

But for the record, there are some things that you should never say. Such as, "Your back hair looks really weird," or "My ex used to have those boxers, too!" or quite possibly "From the way you look when you sleep at night, I can so tell our children are going to be really cute." Those would all be classic example of what NOT to ever say. But Carrie was right. Things like, "I hate your cigars," (if you're not smoke friendly, or, alternately, feel the extreme need to smoke as well when people you're close to light up, like I do,) "I hate that you look at other women," (I think we've all wanted to say this at one point or another,) "I hate that I don't have a key to your place, and you've never spent the night at my place," (if you've been in a committed, long-term relationship and it's gotten to the point that either the doorman or his roommates all expressly know to let you in, no questions asked, and will sit and talk with you until he gets there,) and "I still want something to change, a little bit, for me," can be really important to say. If you're not happy, something's gotta give, and it shouldn't have to be your standards of contentedness. Nor should it have to be your relationship.

I've asked friends going through difficult relationship times if they ever talk to their partner about their desires and fears and what they want out of said relationship, and I've gone through that same process of being guilty of not doing it, too. We women never say these things, because we like you so much that if it doesn't go over well, we don't want to lose you or the relationship totally, because as very wise yet very desperate people once said, something is better than nothing. But how much of "something" is better than us feeling like we're taken by our partners as a "nothing"?

Swallowing your pride and fear to say things like these can be difficult, but it has to be done. Just like how you can't get mad at someone for doing something if you've never spoken to them about it, you also can't expect things to change or get better or magically rectify themselves if you never bring the issue up. Don't point fingers; don't be obtuse about it-- just say "I feel (this) about (this), and I need/would like (this) from you if possible/if you're willing/if you feel the same way." Even if the situation can't be fixed, even if he won't give up his cigars and will never stop looking at other women or doesn't think you need a key to his place because of all the wonderful bonding you do with his roommates because you don't have one, the point is that you've gotten it off you chest and said your piece. And that will hopefully give you some peace.

And also for the record, I have never punched a guy I was seeing.

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

The Man, The Woman, The Legend.

Urban legends, right in time for Halloween. Not only are there scary urban legends, there are the sort of urban legends that Single Girls tell to each other to feel better-- things like "It's not you; it's him. He's obviously crazy, and he'll be begging you to come back next week, just wait and see." That, my friends, is a total myth, and one we all know is complete bullshit.

So which do you think is more unbelievable, the ones we choose to re-tell, hope attached, or the ones told to give us goosebumps of the un-delicious kind? The stories of the friend-of-a-friend-of-a-cousin whose fiancée cheated on her, and then repented to become the best husband and father there ever was, or the one about the girl who came home late one night to her dorm room, drunk, and fell right into bed, only to wake up in the morning to find her roommate brutally murdered, and the words "Aren't you glad you didn't turn on the lights?" written in her blood on their wall? Appalachia's Tailypo story scared the shit out of me when I was a kid, but the legend about how it's women who least expect it find the perfect guy is supposed to give us hope? How do we least expect it, if we're all frantically looking for it? Sure it happens, but never in the way we're least expecting it to.

And what about Hook Man? Maybe at one time, he had showed up under a girl's window with a boombox and won her over. And alligators in New York City's sewers. Oh, wait-- that one's true. Do you know what other Single Girl urban legend is sometimes true? The girl who had a one-night-stand that turned into a relationship.

Once upon a time, I had a one-night-stand. I had met the guy a week previously. We spent about 2 hours talking, on a kind of set-up, and that's all it took to convince me he was attractive, convince him I was cute, and convince both of us that we should end our respective dry-spells. We slept together for one night, and then never again. I ran out of my apartment the next morning at 8 AM, leaving him eating breakfast in my living room.

Once upon another time, I had another one-night-stand. This time, I had no disillusions about it being anything but-- we both knew it. He asked me to spend the night; I had brought my overnight bag with me. He kissed me goodbye the next morning; I was confused, yet triumphant. It was like big-game safari hunting, campus edition. 5 days later, he called. He wanted into a relationship. Thus started a 330+ day on-again, off-again unholy partnership of egos, lengths of silence punctuated by periods of too much talking, the exchanging of books and saliva and lots and lots of stories, and just enough occasional sweetness to make it actually seem like an ok idea when barely lucid. The fling was flung. Man, myth, legend.

Like how my mom used to chop all my Halloween stash candy bars in half because of that urban parenthood legend about psychopaths shoving needles and razor blades into trick-or-treating candy, proceed with caution when it comes to these stories, and like with all urban Single Girls legends and gossip, take it with a grain of salt. Someone else's sort-of-optimistically-Unhappy-Ever-After may be just what you're looking for, or it may be the sort of thing you told around campfires to hear other people's screams. Moral of the legend? Promiscuous sex rarely leads to relationships-- it tends to lead more to things like venereal diseases, people saying "I'll call you" and then never doing so or never returning your calls, and terse mornings spent hovering over the toilet bowl making all sorts of strange promises to different gods re: your fertility-- but sometimes, when all the planets align, and the air smells right, and when you least expect it, sometimes, it will at least lead to a second night. Or a whole bunch of second nights. Boo. Scary, ain't it?

XOXO

How To Train A Man. Or, How To At Least Get Him To Say "Thank You."

I was chatting a few nights ago with one of my oldest friends about guys when she brought up a point so valid I had no choice but to ask her if she would expand on the thought for a guest-post. I can attest to the fact that she is one of those gifted girls who has a way with getting people to want to do what she wants them to. For the rest of us, less-gifted and talented people such as myself, and if you have ever been at a loss as to how to bring up the fact that you would like something, be it a "thank you" or a new hoodie, consider this your somewhat sneaky--yet very practical-- guide to asserting yourself. Like I've previously stated, men don't read minds, and sometimes women's hints are so obtuse they fly right over guy's head. Help them out a little more-- state clearly what it is you want or expect.

If you have ever felt like you give and give and give, and see very little back in return-- this is for you.

Enjoy!

---

When asked to write a guest post for this wonderful blog, I was hesitant at first. As I told Carissa, my writing has been very “scientifically limited” in the past three years. And when I say very scientifically limited, I mean the only 5 paragraph essay I now know comes in the form of an Abstract, Intro, Methods, Results, and Discussion section. However, after thinking about the many…colorful…conversations Carissa and I have on a regular basis, I thought why not! Let’s try writing this thing!

So in our latest conversation, my dear old friend and I were discussing the wonderful trait men have of not giving back. Not even a simple “thank you” springs from their lips unless their mother is hanging over their shoulder. Now, I know this isn’t true for all men. I have some amazing male friends who offer to help my mother with dishes when over around dinner time or aid my father in cutting up that giant maple tree that was just blown over by the wind storm (although I’m not sure this isn’t out of sheer joy of getting to play with a chainsaw). Yet, when it comes to male-female interactions between individuals of the same age, this general hospitality seems to be lacking. Unless you are frequent bedmates, men do not give back. And even in that scenario it’s more of a give-and-take situation, with the taking often overshadowing the giving.

However, I somehow have been bestowed upon with the gift of making men fall at my feet with gifts. Ok, not really. But I did recently convince one of my most notoriously unthankful friends of the XY-chromosome sort to put a little more effort into our relationship and (gasp) even get me a little thank-you gift. How did I accomplish such a feat you ask? Well, dear readers, read on and I shall share with you this golden secret:

Step 1: Appeal to his interests. In my recent escapade with Unthankful Male Friend A, I started the conversation by asking him if he wanted a free case of whey protein from a recent study we had done. (See how much of a science nerd I am? Even I’m disgusted sometimes.) I told him we had a ton of extra and I knew he would probably like some. His response (and this is a direct quote…straight from my phone to your eyes): “Yess please! Yessssss that’s awesome! Thanks! Appreciate it!” A bit overzealous, but still, perfection for where this conversation was headed.

Step 2: Remind him of your recent favors to him. Be it cooking him dinner, giving him a ride, spotting him a few dollars, or favors of the sexual kind, sneak in a little zinger about how much you’ve done for him lately. Again in my recent conversation with the Indian Giver, I told him about a possible internship for next semester where I would work with the Philadelphia Flyers farm team. Hot hockey bros. Sweaty (shirtless) workout sessions. Free tickets. Then after his so indirect comment about accompanying me to games (“That’d be ill. I’d come to any games with you in a heartbeat,”) I struck. “At least you’re easy to please. A pinny, whey protein, and a signed puck. Now that I think of it, you owe me for all that. Hmmm…” So direct, even a caveman could get it. (NOTE: It is NOT useful to be this direct in all cases. This kid is a dunce at times. I mean, he still refers to girls as his “bids”. Yeah. That kind of guy. Clearly he needed the “extra” help. Other men, however, do not need such a direct reminder. In these cases you can simply slip in a “That conversation we had when I gave you a ride to Location X was great,” or a “How’s that sweater look with those jeans I bought you?” Just be sure that you include the words “I” and “gave” [or some version thereof] in your reminders. These words are direct enough to get his mind reeling about the various good deeds you’ve done for him lately while still indirect enough to not make him feel threatened.)

Step 3: Be prepared. Once he realizes that “Hey, she has done a lot for me lately. Maybe I should repay her or say thanks”, be prepared to tell him what you want or need. Or, if your male friend is more sensitive (I’d like to think creative), be prepared for a nice evening out on the town free of charge to you. Either way, make sure you’re ready for what he brings back to you. If you decline the night out on the town or don’t tell him what you need done, your loss. Your chance to get that shelf in the kitchen fixed? Gone. The chance to go to that new restaurant that is just a little bit out of your price range? See ya later. He may not directly come out and say that he wants to thank you for all you’ve done lately. In such a case proceed to step 3a.

Step 3a: Do not underestimate the sneakiness. You have NO IDEA how much power flattery has over men. Once again, stroke his ego. One sentence will do. “You’re so good with power tools.” Then, sliiiiiiiiide in the fact that you need some doo-dad or wing-ding fixed and he would be just the guy to do it. After my snarky comment to Sir Takes-A-Lot, he replied with “Yeah, I have been scoping out a sweatshirt for you, would you really wear it? Cause I deff owe you something.” So maybe he didn’t need as much aid as I provided him with, but regardless, the extra little push was enough to get a “haha iight word. I’ll get you one for Thanksgiving Break :).” And yes, he did add a smiley face. Suddenly #1 Lax Bro had turned into #1 Santa Clause and putty in my hands. I knew I should have asked him for a pony…

XOXO