Woe is Me

In high school, there was this adorable guy, Chris, who worked at the American Eagle in the local mall. He was tall with dirty blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. He embodied the All-American boy with his rugged good looks, harboring the affection of many a young girl. We couldn't help but swoon and giggle every time he said, "Can I help you find anything today?" His name may also have come up once or twice during a few slumber parties.

One day at my locker, I overheard my equally beautiful neighbor, Courtney, telling her friend she'd been hired at American Eagle. In relaying the gossip to my best friend, we realized, "Oh no! Now she's probably going to start dating Chris!" Sure enough, it wasn't long before we saw Chris outside of the mall, as she paraded him around at football games (he went to a different high school) and dances and parties I wasn't cool enough to attend. Not only were they an aesthetically pleasing couple to look at, but they were dressed in the latest fashion trends courtesy of their 10% American Eagle discount.

Ten years later and I'm still wondering, why don't things like this ever happen for me? It's incredibly rare for me to be attracted to someone based entirely on looks. A man tends to grow more or less attractive in accordance to his personality and my preconceived notions of our compatibility. In the rarest of cases, I instantaneously deem a guy "hot" such as Bobby or the Hot Personal Trainer at my gym, and he's never interested in me. Thus, out of my league.

There's no moral to this story other than the fact I have shitty luck when it comes to men. Why are the hot ones never taken with me?

Ex & The City

Spoke with Platonic Ex last evening and learned my call to him the previous day went unanswered because he was having a four hour phone conversation (cut short due to his phone dying) with his ex. Given the circumstances, it doesn't really seem appropriate to make a wisecrack about her weight, but for the sake of referential purposes, it's the same chubby girl with no fashion sense.

Believe it not, I grew to like the girl despite never having met her. Through what I know, not only is she extremely bright, motivated, and adventurous, she could easily drink me under the table. Excellent. I thought they were good together. But eventually her extreme partying grew old for Platonic Ex -- the guy who once wrapped himself in a humongous roll of bubble wrap while eating cottage cheese three months past its' expiration date. Don't ask. There are plenty more equally stomach-churning stories where that came from.

You may recall his ex was the one who broke it off with him. Well, she wants him back in the worst way and can't have him. It's hard to get a straight answer from him but when I asked why he said he's not in love with her and "couldn't imagine waking up next to her every morning." About a month ago, he hung out with her with the intention of not sleeping with her. How do I put this delicately? He's a guy. Need I say more? So now he's the asshole who used her because he had no intention of getting back together with her. Yeah, not a smart move on his part.

Now she's saying she loved him before and began loving him even more after that they broke up. So much so, it's too difficult for her to be in the same state so she's moving to San Francisco. They both have jobs where they travel extensively and yet she can't handle six days out of the month knowing he's a short drive away. Man, it's not even my relationship and I feel sorry for the poor girl. Love sucks.

In case you any of you were wondering, Platonic Ex has continued keep in touch with the stalker he met on Facebook. In yet another wise move, he slept with her on the second date, though he found her utterly annoying. The calls, emails, IMs are relentless. On her end. Doesn’t she know? You’re supposed to wait ‘til the third date to give it up. Perhaps I should loan her my copy of this:

I'm a Thorn -- Try Not to Get Pricked

Everyone's been taking this test. Your results are in! You are...

The Wild RoseRandom Brutal Love Dreamer (RBLD)

Colorful, but unpicked. You are The Wild Rose.



Prone to bouts of cynicism, sarcasm, and thorns, you excite a certain kind of man. Hoping to gather you up, he flirts and winks and asks you out, ultimately professing his love. Then you make him bleed. Why? Because you're the rare, independent, self-sufficient kind of woman who does want love, but not from a weakling.

You don't seem to take yourself too seriously, and that's refreshing. You aren't uptight; you don't over-plan. Romance-wise, sex isn't a top priority--a true relationship would be preferable. For your age, you haven't had a lot of bonafide love experience, though, and this kind of gets to core of the issue. You're very selective.

The problem is them, not you, right? You have lofty standards that few measure up to. You're out there all right, but not to be picked up by just anyone.

Always avoid: The Bachelor (DGSM)

Consider: The Vapor Trail (RBLM)

Your exact female opposite:

The Dirty Little Secret

Deliberate Gentle Sex Master

Single Self vs. Relationship Self

One thing I struggle with is not wanting to lose my independence in a relationship. Is it possible to be with someone and not lose a part of yourself? I don't believe so. You give up your freedom (to make out with random boys/girls). You make room in your life for this person. You factor them into decisions on a daily basis. You make compromises. You make promises. You do your best not to break said promises. You love. You trust. You share. Your capacity to do these things grows. You forgive.

After Platonic Ex and I broke up, I shut down emotionally. The thought of going through the whole process with someone else was unfathomable. Yet on the plus side, it was liberating to have my single life back. It took me a while to get back into the swing of things i.e., going out and partying every weekend, but as it turns out, it's like riding a bicycle.

Unfortunately, I can tell I've begun to shift from my rockstar lifestyle and it saddens me. I miss crazy late-night shopping cart shenanigans with GC and C-Sharp. While I still try to go out at least once a weekend, it's just not the same. And as more of my friends say "I do", the sadder it gets. Once a friend gets engaged, you see less and less of them. And once they're married, well, you see them at showers, weddings, and funerals. Keep in mind I'm speaking generally. Yes, I have married friends whom I still hang out with, but I can't help but long for the carefree days of college when everyone's first priority was which party to attend this weekend as opposed to what color should the table centerpiece be.

Rule #1: Don't Scare Him Off!

Platonic Ex had a blind date last Friday with someone he met on Facebook. Apparently he added some dating application specific to single males/females in the nearby vicinity. He's lived out in Denver for about a year now so he's got a few friends in the area but now that he's single, he's definitely looking to branch out from his group. He thought this might be a good way to meet new people.

Her name is Rachel and he described her picture as "homely" but after he met her in person, he confirmed she is "okay" at least better looking than he anticipated. When they were emailing back and forth to set up their date, he told her he'd made reservations at a restaurant downtown. She wrote back and said, "Gotta love a man that takes charge!" He was beaming. They went to dinner and then hit up a couple bars for drinks afterwards. I asked how he ended the date and he got all quiet so I knew that meant he kissed her. He said, "I'm a man that takes charge." Somehow I knew he'd let that compliment go to his head. Also, he threw in the standard, "I'll give you a call."

While he never openly admitted it, I assume he had a good time and planned on calling her. But when I talked to him last night, he said she'd emailed him Saturday night at 11 pm (24 hours later, on a Saturday night) telling him how much fun she'd had and that she couldn't wait to do it again. She sent a follow-up email yesterday asking if he'd received her first email. So now he doesn't know whether he'll write her back because she's probably "psycho."

When it comes to guys, I generally wait for them to make the first move. I'm always under the assumption that if a guy wants to call, he'll call. Plain and simple. What do you think? Did Rachel make a mistake in contacting him first? By not waiting for him to reply to her first email, does that make her appear desperate and/or psychotic?

Watch Where You Step

Friday night I went to see the movie Definitely, Maybe and I have to say I was pleasantly surprised. When I first saw the preview, I thought it looked like another silly chick flick, but I knew the movie got good reviews and people had said it wasn't the typical girl movie. They were right. In the film, the young girl (Abigail Breslin) tries to figure out who her mom is in the story, as told by her father (Ryan Reynolds). He changes the names of the women so it becomes a mystery for her to solve.

What I liked best is the way the film portrayed relationships in a realistic way as opposed to a romantic fairytale. When a relationships fails, we sometimes struggle to define why. There's not always a clear-cut rhyme or reason. Even the two parties involved don't always have an answer. While the predictability element was somewhat lacking, the movie got me thinking about my own failed relationships in a different light so that was a refreshing change for a chick flick-esque film.

Saturday I went downtown with Ebeth and Little M. I hadn't exactly planned on getting drunk but when a few of her male co-workers met up with us, those intentions went out the window. Since men generally encourage females within a ten foot radius to consume copious amounts of alcohol, it's a little hard to stay sober (or relatively sober) when drinks and shots are delivered to you courtesy of someone else's credit card. In fact, it's positively rude not to drink them.

We skipped around to a few different bars and bumped into C-Sharp and P-Funk. It was good to see those guys because it's been a while since I've partied with them. Good to know things never skip a beat since C-Sharp's first words were, "Whose got bigger boobs?" as he asked me to compare the breast size of his present female companion to those of his long-time female friend. We differed on opinion but he'd have a way better idea than me so I give him the benefit of the doubt. I love being considered "one of the guys."

We drank and danced and drank some more. We ended the night at our usual bar where I pissed off P-Funk by nosing into his personal life. I was kind of disappointed he hadn't brought his girlfriend along since I felt like we'd sort of bonded on Halloween, but he said they'd been having problems. Of course I couldn't leave it at that, and had to ask him over and over and over again, "But why?" like an annoying little kid. And following it up with the question every guy's dying to hear, "So when are you gonna buy the ring?" Could I be any more intrusive? Well, we all know the answer to that.

The night didn't quite end there. As me, Ebeth, and Little M were between the 2nd and the 3rd floors of the elevator parking ramp, some guy with his head hung forward proceeded to spew vomit forth like a geyser. And again. Just as Ebeth stepped out of the elevator, it happened yet again, vomit splattered half inside and half outside the elevator, some of the spray landing on Little M's shoe. The two of us then had to quickly exit the elevator (I'm sure there was more where that came from) as we carefully stepped around the piles of puke. All I can say is, it's a good thing I was drunk.

But Once a Year

Valentine's Day is 'round the corner. I loathe this holiday more than Crocs footwear. Take me out for an overpriced meal of pint-sized proportions, buy me roses or better yet, extravagant jewelry, and cater to me, pamper me, and empty your wallet at my expense. Because you were told to. Not because you necessarily wanted to.

Romantic gestures nauseate me. Is romance even real? Chocolate and teddy bears are for suckers. I don't seek gifts of monetary value for validation.

All I need is someone to be there for me, support me, let me know their thinking about me. Daily. Not once a year. An affectionate stroke of the hair or kiss on the shoulder surely require more thought than that $3.49 Hallmark card written by some sap who sits around watching Lifetime television. How personal is that?

Oh, the Irony

After claiming not to be a jealous person, what do I do but turn around and do exactly that? I can't help it that I snoop. My mom tells me my grandpa used to get really upset that from a young age, I would rifle through his drawers and he'd have to reorganize his belongings after all my trips to his house.

It started with an email. Last Wednesday when I was at TheGuy's house, I wanted to check something online. Tortuously tempting me, he has his web browser set to open up his gmail account. Given he was not in the room, I couldn't help but let my eyes linger at his inbox in search of female names. I saw a girl's name I recognized from college, LP. I didn't allow myself to click on the email thread but the text I saw said, "Ok Old Chicago sounds great!" I got really quiet when he came back in the room but I didn't say anything about the email. While I'd never heard him mention her name, I figured they'd either been friends since college or recently met at a party since they have a lot of mutual friends. Maybe the latter was more likely since I had noticed they'd only recently become friends on MySpace/Facebook.

TheGuy and I hung out Friday night and everything seemed normal. When I got home Saturday afternoon, I decided to do some stalking on Facebook. I looked at LP's page and saw that one of her friends had written something suspicious on her wall. This totally annoying friend wrote a post the length of a short story saying she was on cloud nine because she'd had the "best first date ever" and rambling on and on about how wonderful her life is. Then towards the end, it occurred to her to ask, "How'd your stuff go, plans to do it again???" She'd written the post Friday morning and Thursday night had been Old Chicago night.

It didn't take long for the reels to start spinning. I went so far as to wonder if TheGuy had asked me if I wanted to hang out Wednesday last week in case I asked if he wanted to do something Thursday since he apparently already had plans with some girl.

So then I went into a texting frenzy asking if he went on a date on Thursday. And then I got really pissed when he didn't respond and went into drama queen mode. I shut off my phone and bailed on my plans to go out for the evening. I don't know why I get like that, but I do. The next morning, I saw he eventually texted back saying "No, why do you think I went on a date?" Plus a bunch more texts where he got really annoyed that I was ignoring him. We still haven't talked about "the date" thing yet, but I'm sure he's dying to hear about how I'm a stalker/psychotic freak.

TheGuy and I had planned to hang out last night until I somehow lost my keys at my parents' house. Seriously, how does that happen? I am curious to hear his explanation. I mean, even if he didn't consider it "a date," LP obviously has a thing for him, since LP's friend was so interested to know if they had "plans to do it again" that it required the use of three question marks.

Jealous Much?

About a month ago at dinner, Lo told an amusing story about her roommate, Missy. Missy has been doing Match.com and during one of her recent first dates, the guy told a story that involved some of his female friends, to which Missy said, "I don't believe in men and women having friends of the opposite sex." Her date said, "So you wouldn't marry a guy that had girls as friends?" She shot back, "Why are you bringing up marriage? Is it because you want to marry me?"

The following day, Missy relayed the conversation to Lo, and in all seriousness asked, "So what should I do if he calls? Should I answer?" "No," Lo said, knowing full well a call would never be made in the first place.

Jealousy is an ugly emotion. I try to be realistic when it comes to jealousy. Just because you've chosen to be in a monogamous relationship shouldn't mean you're no longer allowed to have friends of the opposite sex or find others attractive. That's crazy. And would never happen. If he/she tells you otherwise, they lie.

One pattern in my dating history is that I've never dated a notoriously jealous guy. Not even remotely close. While I can't speak on behalf of men, I believe some women find it chivalrous when their men get jealous. To me, jealousy screams insecurity and lack of trust on the part of the possessive half. I would never have the patience or tolerance to put up with that constant mistrust.

If someone is gonna cheat, they're gonna cheat. There's not much you can do about it. When you're growing up, parents and teachers repeatedly tell you not to drink or do drugs, which only piques your curiosity and makes you want to rebel even more. I apply the same logic when it comes to jealousy: the more you try to control someone, the more resentful they'll become and it will only fuel their need for secrecy. The way I see it, it will do more harm than good and potentially drive a huge wedge in your relationship.

Daily Reminders

Daily reminders of your single status. No wonder people think being single sucks.

Exhibit A

The Dumbest Woman Alive works in the office of my apartment building. DMA has worked there since I moved in four and a half years ago with my friend from college and Platonic Ex as my roommates. In all this time, DMA and I have maybe said a total of fifteen words to one another.

Last month I received a package so I was forced to communicate with the half-wits in the leasing office. DMA retrieved my package from the locked storage area and as she handed it to me, said, "I haven't seen your boyfriend around lately." Taken aback, I replied, "Oh, well we broke up a long time ago." She said, "You did? I'm sorry to hear that." Considering it took ten times of meeting her for her to recognize me, it shocked me she had put two and two together and recall that I had a boyfriend.

On Friday, I had another lovely encounter with DMA, as I went to pick up the flowers my friend sent me. DMA got this knowing look on her face and said with great enthusiasm, "Flowers? There must be a new man!" So then I had to explain they were from a friend in lieu of losing my dog. It's not like I was sent a dozen roses. Why this sudden interest in my love life? Is this what married people do? Sit around and fantasize about the dating life of single people??

Exhibit B

I received the following email yesterday from a male friend of mine:

Hello all,

I need to know if any of you are in serious relationships. Seating at the wedding will be limited, but we would like to be able to allow those in serious relationships to bring their significant others.

Is this not the most insulting thing you've ever read? Okay, you've probably encountered worse, but it's pretty appalling. While we've drifted apart in the last few years, this is someone I once considered one of my best friends. And the other guys copied on the email (I was the only female) have been friends with him since elementary school so they have even more reason to be offended.

When you receive an invitation to a wedding, it should be an honor. But this makes me feel like I'm an inconvenience to the bride and groom, occupying one of their coveted seats.

I haven't figured out the proper response as of yet. I don't mind going solo, but it's the principle! Really, if I'm not a good enough friend to allow me the courtesy of bringing a guest, why invite me at all? I'd rather not attend thank you.

This has been my favorite response thus far:

"I'm seriously dating a lemur. Can I bring my lemur?"



To think I was actually looking forward to attending their wedding...

On a related note, TheGuy recently received a wedding invitation that was addressed solely to him, with the absence of "+ guest." Has this ever happened to any of you? Is this becoming standard now?

Yet again, single people are made to feel like outcasts. Don't even get me started on Valentine's Day...

Road Maps

Last Saturday I went out for a friend's birthday. Out of eight women, the birthday girl and I were the only single ones. Four were married, two will be married this summer, and of the six, two have babies. More of my friends are married than single these days, but I've never felt so outnumbered. It was quite the reality check.

I never had a date in high school, but at least I wasn't alone. Countless conversations took place between my friend and I about how it didn't matter that we never had boyfriends in high school because we'd go to college where there would be a plethora of smart, eligible men. The latter was true. College was foolproof. Or so I thought. Besides, the dating gods owed me for being forced to sit at home on prom night. But then I never even dated anyone from my college (when I was in school, that is).

I've never understood those women that declare a "cut-off age" for marriage. If I'm not married by the time I'm 26, I'll throw myself off a bridge. That's a hell of a lot of pressure to put upon oneself. Though I never had a timetable, I always kind of figured I'd be married by the time I was 30, but I've come to realize the odds are no longer in my favor. I'd have to date my future husband for at least one year, if not more, and then we'd need a year to plan the wedding. So I basically have 10 months max to meet the man I'm going to spend the rest of my life with.

This is not the end of the world here people. If I'm still single at 30 and by society's standards, that makes me a crazy old cat lady destined to die alone, so be it. I don't need marriage to define me as a person. If it happens, it happens. It won't do any good to force it or have unrealistic expectations.

I finally got around to seeing Juno last weekend. This quote sticks out in my mind, when Juno says to her father: "I need to know that it's possible that two people can stay happy together forever."

The Great Condom Debate

For the past week or so, I haven't been able to stop thinking about the topic of buying condoms. It all started when I heard from a few girl friends that their husbands are too embarrassed to buy condoms. Really? A married person?

At lunch a couple weeks ago, I asked Stripes and his friend about it. Now it didn't surprise me that Stripes said he doesn't like buying condoms (he's a shy one), but his friend is really outgoing so I was shocked when he said he hates doing it because he doesn't want other people knowing his "personal business." Particularly when the awkward run-in with a family friend or neighbor occurs. At which point, they both said you shift the items in your basket to hide the paraphernalia.

The only other male opinion I have thus far is TheGuy and he disagreed, saying it wasn't a big deal and that he thought others should consider it perfectly normal for a 28-year-old to be buying condoms. He said he wouldn't feel the need to hide it from people he knew at the store, but he did say it was funny to watch the really young and really old female cashiers become uncomfortable when ringing you up.

Before I started asking around, I kind of figured that most guys would be proud to buy condoms because that meant some girl was actually willing to have sex with them (or at least in hopes of that). I guess I don't have a lot to go on, so if any males wish to share their input, it would be greatly appreciated. Or if any females want to ask the guys they know, I am really curious. I know this is a strange thing to take interest in, but what can I say? I never claimed to be "normal."

Tweeners

As I've said before, I get my dating advice from 16-year-olds on MTV (mindless television). Last night on Newport Harbor, Chrissy's dad asked Chase and Kylie if their relationship was casual or serious. Chrissy takes it upon herself to chime in with, "They're tweeners." Apparently, "tweeners" refers to couples who find themselves in-between the casual and serious stage. By this logic, TheGuy and I would be "tweeners." We're more than casual but we're not really serious. We've established the "no hooking up with others" clause, but on an emotional level, we've got some distance.

My question is this: in your upper 20's, what does a "serious relationship" mean? Monogamy? Building toward a future together? I suppose it means both. As you get older, dating expectations change. Marriage and babies enter the picture. If it's not in the back of your mind, it's in the back of the minds of those around you. You're "supposed" to get married. It's what you do; an adulthood ritual.

At 27, the word "relationship" is intimidating. Remember back when you're biggest fear was having your crush's mom pick up the phone when you called his/her house? This is not junior high. You can't send your friend to dump your bf/gf at the drinking fountain between third and fourth period. The stakes are raised; there's a lot more to gain, and subsequently, a lot more to lose.

By now you've had your heart broken or broken the heart of someone else. With some experience under your belt, you've figured out what you want/don't want in a significant other. But it's never any easier. It just means you're better equipped to eliminate the players/gays/losers, or what have you. It fails, however, to nullify the fact you take a giant leap of faith every time you settle into a new relationship. The risk is incalculable when you make the conscientious decision to put your complete and total trust in another person.

It's a Bonus

My brother, who lives at home, just got a new place but hasn't fully moved in yet.

I just had the funniest phone conversation with my mom.

Mom: I think your brother is using his new apartment as a bachelor pad.

Me: Huh?

Mom: Last night he said he was going there to sleep and he's not back yet so I think his girlfriend is in town.

Me: You know, that's not his "girlfriend."

Mom: Yes it is.

Me: No, it's not.

Mom: She's slept over here several times.

Me: I know. It's still not his girlfriend.

Mom: Then what are they? Friends with benefits?

Me: Something like that.

Mom: I don't get what "friends with benefits" means.

Me: It means there's no commitment.

Mom: So there's just benefits?

Me: Well, you're friends too, so it's a bonus.

Mom: [laughs] A bonus? I wish they had that in my day.

Mom: So there is an oral agreement?

Me: Maybe, it depends what you've talked about.

Mom: But if you sleep over, then how does that not make you someone's gf/bf?

Me: That rule no longer applies.

Mom: OH! I get it. I wouldn't know how to date these days.

Me: No, you wouldn't.

Mom: So how do you pay for things?

Me: With money?

Mom: Do you go dutch?

Me: [laughs] I don't know, Mom.

Mom: You need to write a tongue-in-cheek book on dating. But you'll need to find your funny bone first.

The Immobility of Nice Guys

As if in response to the question I posed yesterday,I found this. I couldn't have said it better myself.

Hopefully, he doesn't mind me linking or quoting him, but he sums it up best by saying:

"So what do woman want? A nice guy? Yes. A nice guy that knows how to take charge. A man’s man. A man that isn’t afraid to disagree every now and then. A man that isn’t afraid to kiss a woman. A man that doesn’t ask to kiss her; he just kisses her."

Nothing to Lose

Per the urging of several friends, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm actually considering online dating (gulp). As I said a couple weeks ago, I'm not looking forward to dating, nor do I know if I'm ready for anything serious, but as my friend so wisely put it, "What do you have to lose?" She has a couple co-workers who go out with men they meet on plentyoffish, a free service they claim to be better than eHarmony or Match. If it's free, I guess I really do have nothing to lose. Other than my dignity, which, luckily for me, went out the window years ago. If nothing else, it should provide some good (by good, I mean bad) blogging material.

Do Nice Guys Always Finish Last?

When I was out with GC over the weekend, she shared her current guy dilemma. She's been hanging out with this guy, NG for Nice Guy, who is just that: NICE. Last time he went to her place, clothes were strewn about her bedroom, so she explained she needed more hangers. The next time NG saw her, he brought hangers and chocolate because he knows she's got a sweet tooth.

GC: "WTP, they weren't even plastic hangers -- they were the wood ones! Who uses wood hangers?!?"
WTP: "My dad."

You often hear women say with an emphatic sigh, "Why can't I just meet a nice guy?" So why is it when they meet the nice guys, they're completely turned off? Is nice simply too boring? If there's no challenge, where's the thrill?

Does Timing = Fate?

When it comes to love, it may not be considered "romantic" to accept the fact our lives are based purely on timing, but what of it?

Believers of fate feel everything happens for a reason. In accordance to this, I should acknowledge that a guy I find cute AND funny is somehow not right for me. Oh Gods of Fate, is that why ye choseth to have him meet and fall for some homely, Plain Jane with 80's hair and frumpy fashion several weeks before I officially became single? I do believe so.

Yes, that's right. When I was in a relationship, I met a few guys I potentially would have dated, had I been available. The most recent was a friend of a friend. We'll call him Ace since he's known in a few circles for dressing up like a gay superhero for Halloween. I know, you're impressed already. I met Ace back in September of last year. He was a friend of a friend that met up with a small group of us out one night. You know what they say, you always meet someone when you're not looking, right?

It was a Monday, of all nights, and it was sort of a last hurrah for one of my best friends before she moved out-of-state to begin her new job/career. Seeing as how I had to work the next day, I had no intent to get drunk, but before I knew it, two drinks turned into ten. Or something like that. Eventually, I reached the point of no return.

Our guy friends invited us to their house for the after-bar, so at some point during the walk/stumble from the bar, it was decided that I was riding with Ace. As we drove through downtown, he pointed out several restaurants, wanting to know whether I'd eaten at them. The answer was "no" every time (I don't get out much), as he raved about his love for sushi and Mediterranean food.

It wasn't until we got to the house and continued the boozefest that the boyfriend question arose. When I sheepishly replied, "Yes, I do have a boyfriend," he expressed his disappointment, revealing he'd planned to ask me out, which had been his reason for asking me about those restaurants. For as much as I overanalyze, you'd think I would've picked up on that, but up until then, I never received the slightest inkling of the "he's into me" vibe. Strange.

So we had the boyfriend/relationship talk for what seemed like a couple hours, but could've been more or less, since I lost all track of time. I explained I wasn't in love with him -- he was really more of a friend than a boyfriend. How did it last four years? I wish I had an answer myself. It was comforting to know Ace had been in a similar situation. He'd recently broken up with his girlfriend of two years that he'd never said "I love you" to.

He spent a great deal of time giving me a pep talk, encouraging me to break it off, telling it like it was. It was all of the things I knew were true, but sounded completely different coming from an outside perspective. It was an eye-opening conversation, to say the least. Of course, the fact I had a boyfriend failed to discourage him from trying to make out with me all night, but what can I say? He's a guy. And nothing happened.

It wasn't immediate, though things were rocky, but a couple months later, the ex and I were definitely through, once and for all. In the meantime, I saw Ace twice, and each time, he was baffled to learn we were still together after "our talk." By our third encounter, as my single self, he had a new girlfriend -- which caught me completely off-guard since the possibility never even crossed my mind.

He was happy to hear it was over and done with, and he went on a rant about how small the "window of opportunity" can be. Well, I can't help but hope the window hasn't been permanently closed because he'd be a really fun date -- his sarcasm is priceless. With no interesting prospects, I can't help but think of him from time to time. I'm usually wondering if he suddenly became single overnight. Knowing my luck, he'll be engaged by fall.

If I were a believer in fate, I'd be inclined to believe we met at that particular time for a reason. If we hadn't met, maybe I'd still be with someone that wasn't right for me. But, moral of the story, it's true what they say, "It's all about the timing."

Why Sex with an Ex?

Did you know there are women out there who solicit ex-boyfriends for sex?!? So I've been told by several male sources. Perhaps you are one of these women. Why? Do you seek out former lovers as a way to avoid adding another notch to your bedpost? My last friend to tell me such a story said when he informed his ex he currently had a girlfriend, she replied, "She doesn't have to know." I've also heard tales of women contacting old boyfriends before their wedding day for one last romp in the sack. Interesting, no?

The Sister Effect

Six years ago, I dated this guy who was extremely close with his mom, grandma, and two sisters. I can't say much for him, but the females in his family, namely his grandma, were amazingly strong, independent women! Evidently, they rubbed off on him. Early into our relationship, I learned that when it came to dating, my ex had a distinct advantage over most men I'd met. What was different? He'd been raised in an estrogen-driven household so he'd had a lifetime of first-hand female interaction.

Overall, he had a much better understanding of women -- how they think, act, talk, and even walk. Relaxed and comfortable, he knew how to have a non-awkward conversation with a member of the opposite sex. He was a flirt. He graciously walked that fine line between charming and cheesy. He knew how to deliver a compliment without resorting to cliché pick-up lines. He was concerned with his physical appearance, particularly in terms of clothes and hair, which sounds superficial, but on the contrary, demonstrated he cared simply because he knew women cared about that sort of thing. I won't go into weight for that is an entirely different issue, but he was keenly aware of things a guy could say or do to attract women, which really surprised me. Of course, you take the good with the bad. He was, by no means, the perfect guy, but he was genuine; I was drawn to that.

Back to my original thought: in my experience, it seems that men with sisters have an edge over the competition when it comes to dealing with women.