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Matching Up

Separate vac. 1:9:2009It seems to me the requirements of perfection in the dating world expand far beyond one’s physical attributes, and encompass sharing the exact same tastes in books, movies, theater and recreation.

A recipe for imperfection.

Unless, of course, you are dating yourself.

Okay, clearly, there has to be some crossover in order to have more to talk about then breakfast cereal choices. For the record I am a Special K kinda gal. So movies, books and theater are quickly accessed to fall within the same interest level in order to proceed to the concept of heaven, met your match, get me off this dating site, bliss.

Until you get around to the recreational activities conversation.

Hunting and gathering? Only in the supermarket. Having a Hell’s Angel moment on the back of your Harley? Unlikely. Heli skiing? Drop me from a hovering propellered craft and pick me and all my body parts up a few hours later. Sure. Trekking in Bhutan, a week at an Ashram…

So I ask you, doesn’t anyone shop anymore?

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You’re better than you think

I don't know anyone who believes that.

Nary a soul.

But, yet again, it appears that those that really know about these things are convincing us that we are just fine. Certainly, anyone who has gained 5 lbs in the past fifteen minutes, had the third glass of wine, or polished off the last of yesterday's refrigerated pizza, has mastered the concept of leaving themselves alone. 

Ya' think?

But if the venerated Dr. Susan Love tells me to stop worrying about my health, who am I to argue with that?

Worrying about my health, she suggests, "is a major source of stress and guilt".

So I am not going to stress anymore. Moderation is my new mantra. Warm up the pizza, eat it sitting down, the pizza plated, with the kitchen light on. No guilt attached to that maneuver. See, I feel better already. 

Slept fourteen hours. A sign of depression? Wrong again. "The issue of sleep causes a lot of guilt by women" Dr. Love tells us, " If you are sleepy all the time, you are not getting enough sleep for you." Can you hear the groans of hundreds of pyschotherapists? Stress, guilt and it's evil twin, depression have been, snap, erased from the lexicon.

"If you feel good, then you are fine". Use "common sense" they caution us. But we do know, don't we, that common sense is very uncommon.

  

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Perfection

I have come to the conclusion that out there, somewhere, it must, has to, absolutely exists.

After all when I see my old friends on line, year after year after year, I can only surmise that they are there on a quest for the perfect woman, otherwise what could possibly explain their (apparently) lifetime memberships. 

To wit, I recently had a conversation with one on-line hopeful who told me, unabashedly, that he had been out on one hundred first dates. Does it strike you, as it did me, that this boast is bizarre. Why, I wondered, did he share this? I suggested to him that he might rethink his criteria. Needless to say, I was not his 101st.

Yet another hopeful said that whether it was on-line, on the Starbucks line, or at the buffet line at a dinner party, you initially consider the person very seriously, but wonder if there is "something better". Who am I to argue that logic?  I, after all, did write a blog likening dating to shopping at Loehman's…Anyhow, back to his discussion of seeking perfection he said…"And as we all know, perfect is the death of good, and especially of good enough." I thought that sounded pretty profound.  Of course, I don't think I understood exactly what he meant, but didn't want to be less than perfect and admit to that. 

Then I read the article women with partners at home gain weight.  "She was a 10 when I met her", he lamented, "but now, alas…."

You have got to love the irony in that. 

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The Proof is In the Neurons

I love these studies. 

But you knew that. The latest article that was passed along to me tells me that Exercise Makes You Less Anxious. Yeah, yeah, okay, we all knew that. If you are really needing to know 'how this happens' read the article.

I, for one, am fascinated with the more simplistic questions. The scientists had 2 sets of rats. One half of the rat group were allowed to run, the other group not only didn't run, they did not do any exercise. The experiment continues with having all of the rats swim in cold water, which they don't like to do (the rats not the scientists). 

All I pictured was half of the rats wearing little red bathing caps to differentiate them from the half who were the runners. That, or they let the runners' group keep on their little Nikes. 

I suspect this explains why I wasn't welcomed in the science lab during my school days.

Exercise doesn't reduce stress, I contend, saying you exercise decreases stress. Alternatively, if you have to say you don't exercise your stress level goes up exponentially. Admit it. The tsk tsk, frowns, scowls of contempt are the stress inducers, easier to lie.

Personally, I've yet to meet an on-line hopeful who didn't say that they exercised continually, make that hourly, whether or not they were in shape seemed to be irrelevant. Thinking you wouldn't notice guts, or handle bars therefore, is equally fascinating.

Anyway, if you are a exercise devotee keep it up. Your molecular biological changes, when the autopsy is done, will be there to validate that you were stress free, even if those nearest and dearest to you never knew it.

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No stimulus package for you

IMG_0486 copy And Colin, you can, according to the scientists at King’s College London, put your GPS away.

These scientists contend that the G-spot is a myth. The consummate treasure hunt has come to an end. Pun intended.

Alrighty then, let’s consider how this study was conducted. 1,804 British women aged 23-83 answered questionnaires. All these women were either identical twins or fraternal twins.

Should I go on? In addition to whatever snickering comments you might be making about twins (identical or otherwise) British women, or those in their 80’s …IT WAS A QUESTIONNAIRE.

Does this mean that the males who might read this can feel vindicated? Is Colin off the hook? When one twin said she was certain about the existence of her G spot did her sister ask for a romp with the obliging partner?

The quest for whether there is, Virginia, a G spot, (apparently right up their with the quest for the Holy Grail, or proof of the existence of the Loch Ness Monster) continues.

A debate is scheduled to take place with the publication of the Burn’s and Spector’s study. Has anyone suggested to this esteemed group that action speaks louder than words?

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Happy yet?

It's been, what, four or so days since you've uttered, for the thousandth time, the words "happy", ostensibly for the new year,…gave a hug, a kiss, clinked glasses. 

Are you still feeling happy? 

If not, there seems to be a proliferation of web sites devoted to helping out with finding your happy.

I kid you not.

Shudder at the daily horrors of the world when you open your morning paper? Fear not, your alternative is a link to HappyNews. They actually do bring you real news events, the catch is it is only news intended to lift your spirits. And this doesn't take place in Whoville. 

Then we have Happier.com. The catch for your happiness here is that it requires a paid subscription. I wonder how many sorry souls seeking solace (love alliteration) found themselves decidedly unhappy when they realized that they had to pay to find their happy.

Prozac.com does not come up in the happy search.

A favorite quote of mine came from Tony Kushner (the Tony winning Tony) when asked his about his current state of mind. he replied that he is feeling "happyish."

And that became, for me, the best way for one to describe how they are feeling. Takes the pressure off, doesn't it? 

I'm happyish.

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HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY 2010

A  SONG  FOR YOU

Baby-New-Year

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Resolving resolves

If you could write something down, put it into a shredder then bid goodbye and good riddance, what would your ta-ta look like? 

The name of the heartbreaker who broke your heart? Your IRA? A woulda coulda shoulda didn't happen love connection? A number on the scale? 

See ya, bye bye, don't come back, never again. Done.

Of course you would, if you thought it would work. But you, like me I suspect, probably know that you have little, if any, control over your resolve. 

Is an intervention in order?

I've never quite understood the once a year resolution concept. It seems to me that I resolve to change my behavior on a daily basis. Therein, perhaps, is the error of my ways. Perhaps a "once a year" expunging would, like a trek to Mecca, work its magic. 

Or not. 

Except for Election Day. We did, after all, make George W and Dick Cheney go away. Didn't we? Good riddance.

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Illusions, Delusions and other Flights of Fancy

Delusional  Just the other day, a very dear friend announced to me “I’ve put on about 15 lbs.” She continued to explain, “it’s because of a feature film that I’m in.”

Now, this would have been sensible to me if she were an actress.

I let it go.

Then there is the person, barely an acquaintance, let alone a friend, who brazenly and without any hesitation, offers you deep insights into your psyche. You know that the closest they have come to understanding behavior was getting their dog to roll over. Nonetheless, they are quite certain, if not convincing that they know precisely and exactly how you should be behaving in your interpersonal relationships. And you listen.

I’m thinking that maybe I should try some altered state of consciousness.

I have often thought that if at a cocktail party, for example, if I could strike a slightly mysterious, slightly bored, somewhat aloof countenance I would definitely be more compelling and alluring.  I am certain this is what you have to do. For me, alas, this posture lasts for 30 seconds, when I find myself elbowing others out of the way as the tray of those little pigs in the blanket are coming out of the kitchen. Besides, I am really certain you have to be over 5’10” and have straight blond hair to effect that maneuver.

I’ll have to work on this.

The karaoke singer unabashedly belts out a tune, the comedian wanna be is there at open mike night, The Donald thinks he is one sexy beast and his matings have nothing to do with real estate holdings.

Are all of the above a happier lot? Except for The Donald, I suspect so. If their current reality isn’t working, they simply and easily create and slide into another one.

Yeah, I’m going to work on this.

 

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Not for the faint of heart

Tell a prospective date that you want to skype.

"You want to what?" they ask, incredulously. 

This is the latest act, in the pre screening for the possible, potential, could happen, we might just have a first date, in the you really want to go out with me, dance. Really.

Can you imagine? How does one look dramatic, fetching, alluring and slim in the bright light of morning, with a somewhat fish eye lens capturing them in all their glory? Does a bathrobe have the cachet, the look, you were going for? Perhaps a video conferencing center could work. They have lighting people there, you know.

There are actually people, I have come to realize, who read what has been written in the on line profile. All of it. What you read, watch, do for fun. Aren't they aware that the only thing that is of any importance is how you look? Except for those confident souls who have no picture posted on their profile. Now that speaks volumes. Either they are uber confident in the written word, are famous, in the witness protection program or truly a beast.

Would they skype, I wonder?

Equally daunting is the pre screening telephone chat. You've got to be fairly confident that you remember what you wrote about yourself in case you are quizzed. How old did you say your were, followed by how tall are two definitive questions that can easily trip one up. So, make sure that you have read and committed your profile to memory before the dialing commences.

As I said, this isn't for the faint of heart. But as the new decade is slowing making its way in, there are many a hopeful who are making resolutions for the new year. Skyping for love, however, is probably not one of them.

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