Social-Blinders/Tunnel-Vision Syndrome

Like a horse wearing blinders, your tunnel vision's so focused you see nothing but your boyfriend. The rest of the world has faded away into unimportance. Now that you're together, nothing is appealing beyond hanging out with him, and - even if you do catch a glimpse of something potentially fun or something that needs your attention - you quickly avert your gaze, because, sigh, why would you want to do anything but hang out with him?

Almost every relationship goes through this phase, but the length of the phase determines the acceptability of your actions. Newly in a relationship, you want to soak up every second together. But eventually you realize you need to do things separately. Like, for example, instead of spending the next 12 hours curled up on his couch, there are things you need to take care of: laundry, gym, self-tanning lotion application (probably would a good idea personally right now as I cannot explain the level of pastiness I’m currently sporting, shudder), etc. It takes effort to maintain your current level of hotness that attracted him in the first place,  much less your life.

But you also need to maintain your personal life too. IF you let that fall by the wayside then you’re going to end up living in a metaphorical Gray Gardens of social shambles. What if he wants to hang out with his boys? Who do you call when you no longer have any of your own friends since you've made zero effort to keep up with them in the past few months?

You have to make sure there is a balance. Yes, as I write this, it’s so cold the idea of hibernation sounds like perfection. But take advantage of opportunities to get your friend quota when you can. Yes, especially if you're new in a relationship your friends will cut you some slack about your MIA'ness, we get it, you're happy. But keep in mind that every now and then it’s a great change of pace to have a girls’ night out, especially one that involves dancing to 90's hits.

You don't want to look up one day and realize that after walking with blinders on you no longer have any idea where you are in life.

A Look into My Future?

My friend Lauren sent me this link earlier today: Is Writing a Dating Blog Ruining My Romantic Life? (scroll down toward the end of the post to get to that point, if you want to read it).

Anyway, Maura Kelly - a freelance writer in her 30s who allegedly has never been in love, has spent the past year trying to figure out love while blogging about it for Marie Claire. Today she wrote about how a guy she wasn't even that into found out about the blog from some light online stalking and was weirded out by it.

Duh.

When I was dating and blogging about it, deep-down I knew there was little-to-no-future with any of the guys I wrote about because clearly none of them would have been that psyched about his role as part of my little entre into the blogosphere. And, let's be honest, the only reason J accepts it is because he was sort of "grandfathered" into it all because we were broken up when it started. Sucker. Just kidding, sweetie.

However, after asking him on a scale of 1 to 10 his feelings about me blogging about a recent relationship story, he said 10 - aka do not go there. [Editor's update: J would like for me to clarify that he did NOT say "Don't go there" because apparently that is on the short list - along with "Talk to the Hand"- of things said that warrant receiving a 'Junk Punch'... Yes, I'm glad we're all on the same page now.]

So while some relationship/dating posts are obviously still in the future, I've reached the point where my dating life can longer be fair game for fodder, lest he will dump me. Other people's lives and stories, though, are still fine... So be careful what you share with me. Just kidding. Sort of.

Anyway, Maura was interviewed on The Frisky, yesterday, and I liked this answer:

The Frisky: What are the biggest mistakes you think women make, dating-wise?

MK: I don’t want to phrase it that way. It implies there are glaring errors women are making, and if only they corrected their ways, their lives would be perfect. Dating is not easy, which is why there are so many articles, books, blogs, and how-to videos about it. As a perennially single person, I hate it when some person thinks he or she has the magic piece of advice that will cure all my woes. It’s just not that easy to snap your fingers and—poof!—suddenly find the perfect relationship.

For both men and women, dating is pretty hard, maybe harder now than ever, because there is no agreed-upon set of “rules” we can refer to, to help us interpret what a certain behavior means. Between open relationships, late-night texting, and discovering that your crush might be dating six other people via his Facebook status updates, I think it’s really hard for anyone who’s out there in the dating world to really know where he or she stands—at least until they reach an exclusivity agreement with someone, at which point they’re no longer “dating,” since they’re in a committed relationship.

All that said, I will say that I think a lot of women give guys too much leeway. If he’s not responding to you, cut him loose. Don’t try to win a guy over if the situation has become fraught with anxiety for you. [Ed. note: This is precisely the best way to avoid CGS!] ...

Although Maura hasn't found love by making her personal life public, I recently read a Vows announcement about woman who blogged her experiment to go on 31 dates in 31 days to celebrate her 31st birthday. Date #6 ended up being The One.

"When I started this project, I had no intentions of finding a boyfriend. In fact, I had no idea what would happen. I just wanted to learn something. What I found was more than I could have ever imagined!"

Tamara is currently writing a book (slash trying to find a publisher) so sadly we cannot read all of these great learnings she discovered. But clearly something clicked, otherwise she wouldn't have made the Vows.

So there you have it. Maybe writing about dating will ruin my life, and I will end up alone, except for my 100 dogs (not going to become an Old Cat Lady because I'm not the biggest fan of cats based mostly on the fact that our cat growing up, Kitty, was basically evil-incarnate).

Or maybe I'll get married and the whole dating blogger thang will have helped my romantic future.

Only time will tell. Sigh.

One Step Closer to Being Real People

On Monday, The BFF and I celebrated the first week in our new apartment with home-made Eggplant Parm (the best we've ever made!). And wine. And old episodes of SATC because our cable has yet to be hooked up.

It felt like how you're supposed to feel relaxing in your own home: good/comforting/welcoming, as opposed to: full of rage/angst/hate/unbearable annoyance at yet another "jam" session featuring the accoustic version of Umbrella. If you couldn't guess, that was the rotation of feelings that plagued us previously. For those of you who know me personally and were forced to endure listening to me whine far too much about that drama: I apologize; I'm too cheap for real therapy.

In my head, I have the entire saga ready for blogging, but I'm still weighing the Karma of airing the dirty laundry in the universe (at least quite yet). Also it would be nice to get my security deposit back from the new tenants, who have chosen to move in with my former prison wardens. I mean roommates.

The BFF and I are also trying to turn over a new leaf and be less hateful bitches, but honestly, how long can this last? At least for me, probably not that long, so eventually you might get a taste of the Psycho Diaries. While I accidentally lost my favorite picture of my roommate's labeled maple syrup jug that said "Do not use! For special Diet!" (I apparently lived with a less cheery Buddy The Elf), I do still have her 100,000 word rants, wherein the phrase "You are not my mother!" and "You are F*cking children" are used inter-changeable throughout. For no reason. If you enjoy reading novels written by mentally-unstable "actresses," then this will definitely be a page turner. Yes, IAAB.

Wow, that whole not being a bitch thing has really lasted awhile, right?

Anyway, since some of you care (and more importantly because I'm proud of the transformation we've done!), here are a few pictures of our new set-up. The apartment is kind of funky and a little bohemian, but The BFF and I are nothing if not a little funky and bohemian too. Sort of. But, for instance, my room is a living room slash bedroom, our toilet is separate from the rest of the bathroom, and our shower involves stepping up into the tiniest compartment ever. Think cruise ship shower. But still, we love it. And, bonus!, some of our best friends live directly across the street. And can see into our windows...

So enough chit chat, here's a visual of our hardwork:

Here's the before. Please note TERRIBLE brown color.

Then we got inspired: Painting! And being a frugal genius, I took advantage of the 99 Cent Store offerings available from our Dollar Store District neighborhood and bought super cheap wrapping paper to cover our floors.

My favorite color is blue, and once upon a time my room growing up was turquoise, like the color of a Tiffany's box. I feel like this color selection (Caspian Blue) is a little more "mature." You can't really see it, but the trim is now a slate gray.

And I have a real bed!

The BFF painted her room yellow (with a greenish tint to it), and it's glorious (will update with a pic if she's not too creeped out).

And then for our kitchen! We have new cabinets, but ghetto appliances. What makes that look better?

Hot pink. Obviously.

So there you have it, our new home. Joy. Heaven. Bliss. At least while it's clean and organized.

Guest Post: Women Are Addictive - Liquor Edition

[Editor's note: On Friday I ran my friend Jim's first guest post. Today is Monday, and since nothing has struck my blogger fancy slash I've had "more important" things to do today, I offer you his second category of addictive women. Salud.]

Liquor:

Liquor is the girlfriend you wish you could work it out with. She's hotter than beer. More fun even. Wilder. More expensive. Hell, you even look cooler when you're with her. However, she has another side to her. A crazy side. Not only does she have a temper but things escalate much faster when she's involved. One minute you'll be hanging out at dinner, and she's there, laying low, and then next thing you know, you're being escorted out of a Chuck E. Cheese. Liquor can be funny like that, she can get you arrested. Whoever said good things come in small packages has obviously never had a night cheap tequila shots. Waking up after a night of heavy liquor boozing is like waking up next to your ex, it sucks. Liquor, I love you, but where the hell are my keys, belt and self-respect?

P dot S: I love Rachel McAdams. And Regina George is so liquor. Nice work, Jim.

Guest Post: Women Are Addictive - Beer Edition

[Editor's Note: So once upon a time I blogged about a meeting a guy at a friend's wedding. Unbeknownst to me at the time, I would end up becoming better friends with him, and - because I'm an unstoppable oversharer - I eventually sent him a link to this blog. Luckily he has a sense of humor. Anyway, I suggested he use his spare time and spare wit to write a little something something, and he did. So here you go. Gracias, Jim (Nasium).]

I have this friend. She has a blog. And on this blog, she hasn't written a nice thing about me, yet feels the need to let me know that I was mentioned. This led me to the question:

"Why am I even friends with you?"

Now this friend, let's just call her Lechar, claimed that maybe she's like a drug. Responsible for ruining millions of lives??? you may ask yourself... Smuggled in from Columbia??? you may wonder... Concocted in a bathtub in the Midwest??? I thought the exact same thing. Apparently she meant being addictive or something. Yeah. Anyway, that got me thinking about women of my life and how they mirror some mind-altering substances.

Beer:

Beer is the girl you can always count on. True girlfriend material. You've known her since you were a teenager and have had a borderline-pathetic dependency on her ever since. She'll always be there for you. She's never too moody, always the same, ready for a good time. Hard day at the office? She'll make you feel better, relaxed. You want to watch football and eat wings? She loves football and wings! You're funnier when you're with her and get a little emotional when she's gone. Sure, maybe the mystique isn't there anymore, but who cares? She's seen you in the shower, and she's seen you stutter like an idiot. Basically, she's seen you at your stupidest. And she still loves you. She is your rock. Oh and she's made your gut and face fat from being so awesome.

*Imported beers are fun, foreign girls that are generally the same as their American counterparts. Consistently great to be around, but they're more expensive and can smell weird. (USA! USA!)

More Lobster News!

I had three beers at a work lunch. Wrote your own blog post about the amazing qualities of lobsters (or just read here: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=11382976)

Thanks, Meg.

A Guide to Spite: How to Get Back at Your Ex If You Have $$$ (and are cRaZy)

Perhaps if you don't spend your day perusing Gawker (good for you) then you haven't heard about this crazy story. A few billboards have recently popped up around Manhattan (and apparently in Atlanta and San Fran too), featuring a normal-looking couple with a link to a website, which features their personal vacation photos, mementos, etc. Pretty weird, in any case.

But, Gawker (specifically their Silicon Valley gossip site ValleyWag) being the great online investigative journalists that they are, have identified the guy in the photos as Oracle co-President Charles Phillips. And the woman? Not his wife. His former mistress of 8 years!

Apparently she used money he gave her to put up these billboards, "as a gift."

Bwahahahaha.

Now, I'm totally narcissistic enough to want a billboard of my own. But to have one just to scorn a former lover? I don't know if I'd take it that far.

But if you decide you want to get back at a man who happened to gift you hundreds of thousands of dollars, perhaps you should take a lesson from YaVaughnie.

You'll at least get talked (blogged) about...

To My Friends Getting Married...

After being pronounced man and wife, a groom UPDATED HIS FB STATUS AT THE ALTAR. Before he even kissed his bride! What is the world coming to!? Read about it here and watch the video below:



And, to my friends getting married soon, I warn you: if you do this at your wedding, I will unfriend you. In the church.

P dot S: Is it just me, or is the guy officiating the ceremony kinda hot?

The Difference Between cRaZy and Insane

Acceptable cRaZy: Performing occasional reconnaissance FB investigations of exes' pictures out of curiosity.

Insane CGS: Making your ex's profile your homepage.

Acceptable cRaZy: Asking a guy out even though you're dating a few other people.

Insane CGS: Asking a guy out, then changing your FB status to "In a relationship," then when he questions you about the change, saying you still want to go out with him "and you can talk about it then." And if you update your FB profile pic to include your alleged boyfriend in the same timeframe as texting the potential date to see if you're still on for that night....even more insane. And if you still agree to go out with this girl, then that makes you insane too. Unless you provide me with a hilarious, blog-worthy recap. Good luck!

Guy Hot vs. Girl Hot: Basset Hounds & Maggie Gyllenhaal

While hanging out with a few guy friends last night, I learned a funny new expression to describe a girl. And by funny, I mean mildly offensive. Although, clearly there are far worse things you could say about a female's appearance.

In reference to a friend's new girlfriend, one guy explained she was cute, "but in basset hound and/or Maggie Gyllenhaal" sort of way.

"What's that?" I asked.

He explained it to me: "You know, she's cute, but in a funny-looking kind of way. Like you almost feel bad for her type of thing. Like a basset hound. Or Maggie Gyllenhaal."

Bwahahaha. Guys are such dicks. Joking. Clearly I've said far worse about them.

This guy's insight, though, helps add another concrete example about the difference between Guy Hot and Girl Hot. I think Maggie is a pretty lady! Yes, she might not be in the Marisa Miller-bombshell sort of way, but she's attractive. She is not a dog...

Although, I do loooove basset hounds. My mom even gave me a basset hound ornament for Christmas. But it's true, I do like them because I think they're hilarious-looking! Especially in costumes. I really need a skeptical-looking dog to come home to.

"Raaaaaaaachel. I'm huuuuuuuuuuungry."

The Work of a Genius

For some reason this week is dragging on for-ev-er (even though I had Monday off!) so if you feel the same way and need a hi-larious time-wasting activity, I would highly recommend watching the first four clips from Conan O'Brien's show last night brought to you by Gawker TV. I have always adored Conan, and I generally like people who stick it to The Man, especially in genius ways.

Not only does he bring back The Masturbating Bear and creates the most expensive character ever with NBC's $$$, Adam Sandler joins and admits that he and Chris Farley were actually fired from SNL (wtf!?). Ed Helms (the Nard Dog!) also performs his song from The Hangover. It's all a-mazing.

I wish I were friends with CoCo. Move back to NYC, Conan, and Ashley and I can stalk you in the UES!

Enjoy. And remember, today is only Thursday, even though it really feels like Friday. FML.

Bock Bock Bock

You might remember a few months ago (oh how the time flies!) that a close friend of mine experienced a little Turkey Drop episode. Except, since the guy was a giant girl about it, it was more like a Chicken Drop. Anyway since then, he has apparently been seeing the (not so cute, according to photographic Facebook evidence) girl he was spotted with on the street, so he is completely off the radar. Except, of course, during those uber awkward spottings ON THE STREET WHERE THEY BOTH LIVE. Dude, geographic proximity dictates you should have handled it better!

Anyway, the chicken saga continues. My friend LD sent me this today:

I wrote him a text yesterday asking for him to drop off the coffee grinder that he borrowed forever ago…it wasn’t mean, and I figured I have nothing to lose but the coffee grinder..haha…he texted back that either he or or his roommate would drop it off. I have a feeling that his roommate is going to be the one to do it…insert chicken sounds here: bock bock bock. That’s all!

Well at least she can have a little blog vindication (in addition to *hopefully* getting her coffee grinder back)! And plus, with a great new wingman, she's been building herself quite the dating roster. In my most awkward-mom-trying-to-be-cool-and-hip-dialect-that-makes-you-slightly-cringe, "You go girl!"

Update: Also, ironically, pre-Drop the Chicken Dropper had someone take his picture holding a sign for LD next to a guy dressed as a chicken . How prophetic.

Now That Strangers Read This Blog...

It has come to my attention that more and more people (besides just a few friends and family members) are reading this, which rules. But it's also kind of weird. Like if you don't know me, then this blog is all you have to judge me on. So I better make it good, right? While certain people (I am related to) might think I'm wonderful and intelligent, you could have a variety of impressions of me. Like that I'm ridiculously good looking. Or that I'm the anti-Christ. I just don't know. Anyway, I wanted to take a minute to hopefully better explain my point of view and purpose for this blog:

First, let me state that I am - for the most part - full of crap, and I'm clearly biased toward my perspective, but aren't we all? However, if actual hookers can provide dating and relationship advice, then why can’t I? While I might occasionally act as a "revisionist historian,” I try to honestly share my own thoughts and feelings while attempting to be funny. I promise I do not take myself very seriously, and neither should you.

To boil it down, I hope you can either:

A) Relate to what I'm saying or live vicariously through my living-the-dream-in-the-big-city-while-hovering-embarrassingly-close-to-the-poverty-line stories

B) Get an inside perspective of a female 20-something's thoughts on relationships and life without having to awkwardly pick up an issue of a chick magazine

C) Bring a small amount of pleasure to your own life as you laugh at/judge what cRaZy gIrL thang I’m offering up as "insight"

Basically, I hope everyone reading can find some humor and candor about what I'm saying, and if you like it, great. If you hate it, then there are approximately 1,000,000,000,000,000 other websites you can spend your time perusing, and *gasp* some might have naked girls on them, so they might be more entertaining than this...

Okay, that is all. I'm wiped out from a weekend of solid moving/painting/unpacking/acting fiscally irresponsible (just kidding, Dad) so must turn off brain now.

Happy Anniversary, New York

Today is my second anniversary of living in New York! On January 15, 2008, The BFF and I moved ourselves to the big city. And last night, we spent hours and hours packing away all of our crap, I mean treasured possessions, so we can move into our new apartment. A lot has changed in two years, and we couldn't be more excited for a change of scenery.

Plus it goes along with my theme for this year - 2010: The Year of Life Improvement.

And to provide a little inspiration for upcoming changes, I leave you with this:

In New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made of. There's nothing you can't do, now you're in New York. These streets will make you feel brand new. Big lights will inspire you, let's hear it for New York.

She Looks Like an Evil Disney Character

Have you seen Heidi Montag's new face?
 
She looks like she's about to hand you a poison apple or make you clean the castle while you sing to your mice friends.

Seriously. It's evil.

She's like some weird sexual Monster that Dr. Frankenspencer created.

Shudder.

Read all about this disaster on Jezebel... seriously, People magazine, way to glamorize plastic surgery addiction...

The Situation of NYC Movers

The BFF and I found an apartment!!!! It was much less painful than I worried about, and we've already signed the lease and started moving a few things! Since we still have the lease on our old place till the first, we technically have two homes. Like fancy, rich people. So, that's cool.

Moving in the city sans car is, as you can imagine, incredibly difficult. Clearly I will need some professional help (to think of it, I could probably use a lot of professional help...). Anyway, The BFF sent me a Craigslist post for movers, which included a link to a Time Out New York recommendation for the company. Since I do work in PR, I always appreciate the "third party credibility" it adds...

Click here to read for yourself why I hired Rob The Mover.

Or you can just look below:

Bwahahaha. Next reality show hit? Rob The Shirtless Mover. Danger. Sweat. Tears. Groupie skanks. Someone might get punched, who knows.

In my email confirmation, I tried to verify that someone would be shirtless during the actual move. While they did not recognize that serious inquiry with a response, fingers' crossed.

And, of course, I will keep you updated on The Moving Situation.

Only Two Options

A friend just made reference to a guy friend of hers, and before she could even start her story, I interrupted to clarify:

"Have you made out with him, or is he gay?"

Because those are the only options. Very, very rarely is it "Neither, he's just a platonic, straight friend with whom I've never kissed" because we live in a society where the obligatory, (usually involving alcohol) "Let's just test out whether or not we should be more than friends right now" makeout occurs on a regular basis.

And then, after getting past the awkward sexual tension plaguing almost all male-female friendships, you are more adequately equipped to determine your situation, which is great. Unless one of you is a giant girl about it and develops an unbecoming case of unrequited love. Ugh. But, that probably would have happened anyway, eventually.

It just makes sense, I think, to get it out of the way. But it could also maybe be a reason why my guy friend roster was lacking while I was single...

Witnessing an Awkward Subway Encounter

Usually anytime I'm out in public - walking or riding the subway - I've got my ipod on, headphones in and am totally zoned out. Like zombie-zoned out (a reason I fail at celebrity spotting).

This is because I'm self-absorbed and typically avoid human interaction if at all possible. Notice I said human - if an adorable dog is around, I WILL make time for him.

Anyway, yesterday my ipod died at the gym, forcing me to endure the subway ride home void of distraction. So to entertain myself, I did what everyone else sans headphones does: eavesdrop on others' conversations.

Luckily a horribly awkward encounter unfolded before me. Note, some artistic liberty was taken. Allegedly (according to certain individuals, particularly those who have been blogged about, or have heard my stories, or have spent one second talking to me) I might do this with pretty much everything I do or say anything.

Scene: Trapped on the Subway with an Ex

Location: Downtown 6 train, Grand Central Station stop

Door opens. In walks an awkward, Jewish guy who spots a female he recognizes. We will call him Abraham.

Abraham: Hey! Rebecca! [sits down next to her]

Rebecca: [Look of disdained surprise] Oh, uh, hi! [Begrudgingly takes out headphones]

Abraham: Great to see you! How are you??

Rebecca: Um, startled to see you?

Abraham: I'm great too!

Rebecca: Yeah, it's, uh, been awhile?

Abraham: [Unfazed by her clear disinterest; even more unfazed by the continuous flashing of her wedding ring] I've been really busy with my job, you know, lots of work.

Incessant (one-sided) chatter continues.

Rebecca: [Continued display of combo-startled reaction slash indifference] Yeah, I remember hearing about that awhile ago...

Next stop announcement.

Rebecca: Oh, uh, this is where I'm getting off.

Abraham: Really, I thought you lived further downtown?

Rebecca: Uh, I moved...

- Door shuts -

Rebecca's attempt at a quick escape was successful. But she got lucky.

Awhile back I wrote about avoiding an awkward run-in on the street. The street, thank God, provides, plenty of hiding places to run off to. The subway? Not so much. You are literally trapped under the Earth.

Although this article about being trapped on the subway with a killer freaked me out, the thought of being confined with an unbearable ex (in this case, I would put serious money it involved J.Date)? Possibly worse.

OF course, now that I've blogged about the entertainment of watching others' misery, the Universe will probably trap me underground with the WBDB soon.

I'm hoping my prediction unjinxes any jinx I put on myself with this post.

You Win Some, You Lose Some

After getting injured on the Longhorns' fifth snap of last week's BCS National Championship, our sweet little baby-faced quarterback Colt McCoy looked like he was having a pretty crappy week. Well, let's be honest, we all were because that's not the game anyone wanted to watch.

But now it looks like things turned around for him.

Colt - a precious cupcake who I once had a class with and would try and sit as close to as possible in the off-chance he might fall in love with me - just got engaged to his long-term GF.

AUSTIN, Texas — Colt McCoy popped the question in true Texas football style.

The former Longhorns quarterback brought girlfriend Rachel Glandorf to Darrell K. Royal-Texas Memorial Stadium on Monday night. When they got to the field, "Will You Marry Me?" was on the stadium's giant high definition scoreboard screen.

When she turned around, McCoy was on his knee to propose.

She said yes.

While I'm disappointed I'm not the Rachel in that story, it's still pretty sweet. Hook 'em!

Isn't It Ironic, Don't You Think?

I will (hopefully) not feel the need to keep posting about The Bachelor, but this is too good to pass up.

Some whorestitute, I mean contestant, got kicked off the show last night FOR HOOKING UP WITH A CREW MEMBER. And then got pissy when they asked her about it!? She said, and I quote, "I don't think that my personal life is anybody's business."

No, seriously, she said that.

First, A) Anybody in the limelight's personal business will be public because this is America and all we care about is Sex. Even our freaking' Director of the Office of Management and Budget Peter Orszag - aka the guy in charge of trying to fix the mess that is our country's deficit - can't escape having his sexay public life under a microscope (reputable news organization The New York Times is talking about it!). Yes, while numbers usually = boring, a "sexy nerd" who gets engaged directly following the birth of his child by his former GF = The Stuff Dreams Are Made Of.

Second, B) Yes, there is a huge double-standard considering Jake is macking on other ladies 24/7, but c'mon, Mensa Candidate, perhaps showing your true Whore Stripes WHILE ON THE SHOW is not the best strategy to win this game. No one wants a crew member's sloppy seconds.

So following this confrontation, she got kicked off, and Jake practically cried because the girl who he had given his special immunity rose to betrayed him. Sucker.

Also, her name was Rozlyn. Which I think we can all agree is a fairly whorish name spelling. No offense if that's your name.

Watch the clip in all of its awkward glory here.

FJOs: Dating Doppelgangers

After spending the bulk of my first year in the city being FJ-Obsessed, it recently dawned on me that I hadn't talked about them (on the blog or in person) in a long time - clearly a direct correlation to dating an (attorney) OJB.

But as my two year anniversary of living in the city approaches (Friday - Jan 15th!), I thought I'd take a little look at how my perspective has changed.

For awhile, I served as a pretty good TSF (token single friend) among a range of different social circles. Through this, I met a variety of guys. Who all worked in finance. Really diverse, obviously.

I've met the Cocky Models & Bottles FJO, the 30-year-old Peter Pan FJO, the New to the City FJO, the Self-Deprecating But Still A FJO, the ForeignJO, the You Get the Point FJO.

So after recently hanging out with some FoFJOs (friend of friend FJOs, please try and keep up) - a situation wherein a few months ago I would have been a TSF vying for a date - I've realized something watching it from the other side: just go ahead and judge that book by the cover.

I know you're not supposed to do this and yada yada, but after awhile, it just makes sense to become a bit of a Dating Profiler. It's more efficient.

During the summer (oh glorious summer, how I miss you and your weather forecast of “abundant sunshine” without today’s “but very cold” follow-up) I wrote about how dating in the city offered an overwhelming number of options.

Well apparently I’ve been here long enough that all the different guys I meet are slowly morphing into dating doppelgangers – strikingly similar versions of someone else I've met or dated. In my mind, due to certain characteristics and qualities, I just can’t get past how they're basically the exact same person as Guy So and So From That One Time.

Yes, he might seem nice, look good on paper, or fit the MPD mold, but things won't work out between us for the x, y and z reasons it didn’t work out with That Other Eerily Simliar FJO.

For example, I recently met a guy who seemed fairly interested in me even though he was aware I had a boyfriend. Although he was cute and nice - even if I were single - I wouldn't pursue anything because he is the exact same person as a guy I knew during the WBDB summershare days. Within an hour of hanging out, I knew it would never work out between us. For a reason, the same one that plagued his FJO doppelganger too.

A year ago, though, I would have subjected myself to a months' long due diligence process to come to this same conclusion. But now I've realized that if you know, you know - there's no reason to jump through the hoops unless you need the exercise. My advice? Join a gym instead.

You Know it'll Last When You Meet on TV

People.com reports that Ronnie & Sammi Sweetheart are still together, and "it's serious." (J-)Wow(w), that's love!

Who would have thought Jersey Shore would be one of the more successful, long-term relationship matchmaking shows on TV?

Apocalypse now?

Nah, I mean, at least these fameballs are more real than anyone begging for attention on The Bachelor. Maybe Monday's rejects should apply for next season of JS? I mean, at the end of the day it's all practically the same (just a little bit tanner).

Although, for the record, I'm not watching The Bachelor. For me, it's like the ex-boyfriend who repeatedly lied to you, made you feel bad about yourself, toyed with your emotions, and ultimately let you down one time too many. The final straw was after couple #999,999 broke up the day after The Final Rose Ceremony aired, leaving me feeling like I had wasted the past two months of my life. (And, yes, obviously watching it no matter what the outcome is a fairly big waste...) After that, though, I swore I would never succumb to the temptation again. I know it will only lead to disappointment.

Luckily, though, I'm not totally out of the loop, and my friends update me on what I'm missing.

Current sentiments:

"Ugh it was painful...those girls are SOOO desperate..it made me sad! And they're our age mostly, which makes me scared. I mean there was this one girl who is SOOOO emotional, just about getting married and having kids and Jake being someone she could do that with...she's 25!"

Thanks, but no thanks.

How to Know if He's Taken: Phone Edition

If you see a cute guy on the street widely grinning down at his phone, and then he looks up and flashes you an "I'm interested" smile, he's a player. I mean, maybe one of his buddies just sent him something funny, but c'mon, there's a certain look a guy gives when he's received a message from a lady friend. And you recognized that look. So don't kick yourself for walking by and missing an opportunity with the "guy of your dreams." Unless you want to compete in the game to get a spot on his roster, don't waste your time. I'm just saying.

Note: I understand most guys in the city are dating multiple people at one time. Let's be honest, it's just more efficient that way. But walking into a situation where you know someone might be on the way to being serious with someone else is probably not worth it...

See, Chocolate is Good for You

After a month of sweets binge eating (being surrounded by hundreds of leftover cookies post annual family Christmas Eve cookie party did not help), it's been nearly impossible for me to kick the habit cold-turkey. So when I get a salad from the bodega near my work for lunch each day, I can't help but grab a 50 cent Baci chocolate too. And what's better than a dark chocolate and hazelnut treat to get you through the afternoon? The wrapper message it comes with.

I thought yesterday's was particularly sweet, but that could have just been the sugar talking.

Love me when I deserve it least, as that is when I'll need it most.

100 Days, 100 girls

http://100girls100days.com/about/

Why I Love Her

Any relationship has its up's and down's, but at the end of the day,  you still love each other.

This is an example of why I love The BFF:

[out of no where]
TheBFF (2:31:21 PM): btw im bringing home a hot glue gun tonight so if there is anything you need to glue.....NOWS THE TIME

Because, you know, I just keep a list laying around of things of things that need serious hot glue attention. Apparently I should start, though...craft time!

Serena, Take Note

Okay, I understand that GG is just a show. Sort of. Except for when I see Chuck Bass in person. Speaking of which, it's been awhile, Ed, I think we're due for another run-in soon.

Anyway, reading about the recent death of Casey Johnson, heiress to Johnson & Johnson, worries me about our fictitious little UESider Serena Serena van der Woodsen.

Gawker helps point out Casey's similarities with Serena:

• Raised from fabulous wealth in NYC
• Received her first Chanel purse at a young age
• Graduated from a tony Manhattan private school

And, the most eerie comparison:

• Enrolled at Brown — only to drop out freshman year to intern for a queen bee publicist

Nooooooooooooooooooooooo. Serena, I refuse to let you end up with this same Grey Gardens fate. She's already headed down a similar path of destruction!  Writers, please intervene!

Yes I realize I'm worried about a TV character, but the show isn't returning until March 8, and my life is dull without it.

Also, just reading about Casey makes me sad. And glad that's not my life.

Product Review: Best Lip Balm Ever

I just have to share one of my favorite discoveries in the past year: Smith's Rosebud Salve. After years of being a faithful Burt's Bees user, last winter (aka the coldest misery of my life) BB just wasn't cutting it anymore. Then I found this chapped-lip savior. Clearly I'm a little behind the times on uncovering this gem it since it's been around for over 100 years, but, still, it is a-mazing.

If you haven't tried it, you should. Pick it up at Sephora or stores like Urban Outfitters. Trust me, you'll love it. Plus, according to the website, you can use it to relieve dryness and it soothes the sting of minor burns! Bad-A. And it lasts forever too (or in my case, a whole year of everyday use ).

Sephora has the 3 tin-pack, which includes the Rosebud, the Mint and the Strawberry versions. Love 'em all now! [Note: I can be up-sold on pretty much anything.]

Please Remove My TSF Label

Token single friend (TSF): The role I've served in for the majority of time I've been in the city. IMO, I make a pretty good TSF - if I do say so myself - based on the number of dates I've been on (or been offered) through FoFs. Not shockingly, I even met J through my TSF status.

Before New York, though, I was on the opposite side: IAR Matchmaker. As I've mentioned approximately 1000 times, my mother is the queen of matching making (hello, Match.Mom) so it's no shock it's in my genes.

While I dated The College BF, I loved trying to set up his tons o' single friends with my friends. While I did have a few "successful" set-ups (in terms of people actually dating), none of ever proved to be that great, i.e. I don't expect to be invited to any weddings where they toast me at the rehearsal dinner. Yet, at least.

But while most people (at least those reading this) know I'm back IAR, the TSF label has been hard to shed. Maybe people have a hard time believing I'm capable of monogamy? I mean, I realize I did start a blog dedicated to guiding myself through dating, but it's not a whore blog. I have been in relationships before...

Okay enough ranting. The actual purpose of this post was to solicit single friends to allow me to play matchmaker. I'm sucha yenta. A Shiksa Yenta. Shiksenta.

Wing(wo)man Success Stories

Lauren's Match.Mom success story has inspired me to share another success story: this time in terms of wingman matchmaking.

Awhile back, I whined about not having a large enough roster of wingmen to go out with me. Well, now that I'm back IAR, the picking up guys aspect isn't necessary, but meeting new girls to go out with is still important. Who doesn't like friends?

So after my plea for help, I got a response! My new blog obsession Do You Fancy Us had taken note! Elle, who lives in New York, suggested we meet up for brunch. Unlimited Mimosa brunch. From the first second I laid eyes on her Vineyard Vines jacket and headband, I knew we would be friends. I love her. Then, Em, who lives in D.C., came to visit Elle, and, over another unlimited mimosa brunch (did I mention we're the same?), I became obsessed with her too.

Yes, I made friends on zee Internet. While that still seems to have a mildly weird, 1994 chat room "a/s/l" stigma, it actually was a brilliant idea. Not only did I gain two new friends out of it, I realized that real bloggers are always making other blogger friends. Hence making blog friends is a key step to becoming a legit blogger. I mean, I'm (over)sharing my life online, so there's really no reason why I shouldn't be building relationships online too. So there you have it - a wingman success story. On the Internet. And in real life.

Another wingman success story I've recently witnessed involves my dear friend, the victim of the Chicken Drop. While the Chicken Dropper officially sucks, he did have one last redeeming purpose: wingman intro. Her new wingman lives in her neighborhood (UES, important geographic proximity can be muy helpful, esp. when you live uptown) and is cute and fun.

So congrats to the happy couple! May you both find yourselves in hilarious dating situations to provide me with blog fodder!

To 2010, A Year of Staying Optimistic

I will be honest, 2009 sucked. And it wasn't just me. An Associated Press poll found three fourths of Americans thought 2009 was lousy too.

I am very aware that things in my life could have been far worse this past year, but, still, it seemed like the worst year of my life. Yes, there were great times, but overall my emotions swung between very dramatic in terms of "What am I going to do with my future?" and very stagnant in terms of "I'm totally stuck in the same situation I wasn't happy with last year." While I was hosting my thematic QLC pity parties, it was hard to step outside my shallow bubble and realize it was clearly not just me having problems. This poll proves it.

But it's the start of a new year. Hell, it's even a new decade.

While it will take me approximately six to eight weeks to automatically write 2010 instead of 2009, and we'll all be forced to determine what exactly to call this year (I'd honestly be fine with saying "oh ten"), but it's a fresh start. New beginnings.

Yes, I will have to fight my way for two square inches of room at the gym for the next few months now that it'll be packed with Resolutioners, but whatever. I'm starting with a new outlook on life, a new perspective on optimism. Life will only turn around if you make it.

Six months ago I was more depressed than I ever have been. At the time, it was hard to recognize that it wasn't just a string of bad luck. I was working against myself, and clearly the global economic conditions were not in my favor. While I still don't have everything figured out (and neither does the world), I'm trying to be patient, which sucks considering patience has never been my best virtue.

I'm not alone in having high hopes for this year. The AP poll also found the same number of people who thought 2009 sucked were optimistic about 2010.

So maybe if we collectively put positive thoughts out in the universe, 2010 will be a great year.

We deserve it.

Cheers!