First Date Don'ts

Okay, so I said that I might post some things while on vacation but I lied. Sorry. It turns out I didn't have as much access to the Internet as I had originally envisioned. So once again I made a promise (kinda) on this blog and didn't follow through. I think I'd better stop with the promises.

Anyway, I'm back from vacation now and I'm totally beat, so I just wanted to leave you with a quick little sumpin' sumpin'.

My friend sent me a link to an article about what NOT to do on a first date. While the article is written for women, I think men can learn from it as well. The advice is a little obvious, in my opinion, as if the writer is assuming that the woman reading it has not been on a date in ten years. But it's fun to read nonetheless.

Here are the six things the article says not to do. For further explanation, read the article in full here.

Don't...

1. Introduce unfamiliar grooming regimens into your routine.

2. Wear those six-inch heels you bought on eBay, thinking they were Louboutins, but actually turned out to be regulation stripper footwear.

3. Get liquored up first.

4. Not eat if you're on a dinner date.

5. Talk too much/clam up completely.

6. Play make-believe. [In other words, don't lie.]

Also, I have a number 7, for guys only: Don't quote lines from The Cosby Show on a first date. It will likely end unfavorably, as was the case here.

Off to eat some turkey

Hey peeps. I'm leaving tonight to go visit my family on the east coast, where I will eat more food than I even knew existed and come back weighing an extra ten pounds. At least. But regardless, I'm stoked.

So I won't be writing much over the next few days. I might post some little things here and there if I have some time, so check back every once in a while if you want.

Otherwise, have a Happy Thanksgiving! Remember to tell your favorite person that you love them.

Ciao,
Juliet

Thoughts About the World Wide Web

I don't know if it's because of this blog or ODE or what, but lately I've been thinking a lot about online social networking sites. (Not only dating websites but others like Facebook and MySpace.) I can't help but wonder if these sites are really improving our communication with each other, or turning us all into social morons.

I'm a writer, so I love that I have so many opportunities to communicate with people via writing. Whether I'm texting, emailing, instant messaging (even though that still feels unnatural to me) or leaving a comment on someone's Facebook page... it has opened up a whole new vein of creativity in me, and it's fun!

However, I sometimes have to check myself. Is what I'm saying to these people through typed words the same thing I would say to them in person? Probably not. Is electronic communication different than our face-to-face communication would be? Without a doubt, yes. And that's fine, unless it becomes our primary form of communication.

When it comes to establishing interest in the opposite sex, the opportunities for online and mobile communication are endless. Whenever I see the little red light on my Blackberry flashing, I get a rush of excitement, wondering who was thinking of me enough to send me a message, and if that someone is someone worth getting excited about. But the problem with these little mini rushes is that I'm often disappointed. I hate discovering that the red light signified nothing other than a junk email, or a Twitter text from someone I barely know.

When I do get a message from a guy who I like, it's like opening a present. My heart pounds with every flirty word and winking emoticon. And in my opinion, that's the best part about electronic communication: The flirting. E-flirting, I like to call it. We can flirt in ways the human race has never flirted before. And that's exhilarating. But it might also be holding us back a bit.

I remember a few years ago, I liked a guy who lived kind of far away from me. We had met once at a mutual friend's house and then emailed back and forth almost every day for about a month until we saw each other in person. Our emails were fun, funny, and uber creative. We started this thing where, in every email, we had to tell each other something new about ourselves. And of course, I couldn't say something lame like, "I like chocolate." (Even though I do. Very much. Just sayin'.) It had to be more clever than that, like "I once stepped on a cat's tail in the middle of Vatican City." This guy probably thought I was the coolest, most unique chick ever. And I felt the same way about him. Except for the "chick" part.

But when we finally got together in person, the attraction quickly fizzled. Turns out we weren't nearly as cool and clever in person as we were on each other's computer screens.

And then there's the problem with revealing too much about yourself right from the get-go, especially on sites like Facebook and MySpace. Some of the things that people used to have to learn about you in a gradual process, they can now find out simply by clicking on the "Info" button on your Facebook page. In a way, this can bring you closer to a person in a shorter amount of time—there are fewer layers to unpeel—but it can also turn them away before they even get the chance to know the real you.

And don't even get me started on the jealousy (whether justified or not) that can result because of these social networking sites. I can't even imagine being an insecure teenager during this decade. I'm sure there are young girls everywhere losing their minds—even as I write—at the sighting of another girl's comment on her boyfriend's profile. The online world is like one big soap opera.

All that being said, I'm a media junkie, so I actually am an advocate for online and mobile communication. I just think it's important to be extra vigilant about what you put out there, and to not lose your sense of self.

What are your thoughts on the new age of communication? Are you for it or against it?

RIP ODE

Well, just when I was starting to come around on Match.com, just when I conceded that I can be friends with it, it went and stabbed me in the back.

I just found out that it charged me for another month's subscription WITHOUT EVEN TELLING ME.

Not cool, Match. Not. Cool.

So now I have to put up with another month of "cooldude219 has winked at you!" (Totally made up that username, so don't look it up.) But I've been anxiously awaiting the end of the Online Dating Experiment, so I'm just going to pretend it's over. I might even delete my profile on Match, although the cheapskate in me is telling me that would be wasteful.

But even if I keep my profile active, I'm going to give my summations on ODE now because I have a lot to say and I can't wait another month to say it!

As I mentioned before, I received several winks and emails from Matchos throughout the month, but none of them really did it for me, except for the one who contacted me on MySpace. That Matcho and I went on a date last night. Though part of me worried that a dirty 54-year-old man would show up at my door, I just had a good feeling about this guy. And it turns out he was all he claimed to be, which is a good thing. We had fun on our date and we may go out again, who knows.

So in that particular case, online dating was a success for me. I probably never would have met this guy otherwise, so it's kinda cool to think that Match.com played some part in that. The fact that I spent my Saturday evening with a good guy instead of sitting at home doing nothing—all orchestrated indirectly by a website—just goes to show you how influential a role the Internet can play in your life. (I'll be discussing more on that general concept tomorrow. I would talk about it now but I have so many thoughts on it, and I think those thoughts deserve a post of their own, don't you? They can't be sharing space with all of this silly ODE nonsense.)

I'm sure it's been painfully obvious in the past month that online dating ain't my thang. However, I would not discourage other people from doing it if it's something they're truly interested in. I think I went into it with a skeptical outlook from the get-go, and as we all know, negativity begets negativity. So my point is, in this case, do NOT take my example. Just do what you want to do and draw your own conclusions.

So I've done the Scarcity Myth Experiment and the Online Dating Experiment. I'm going to be all lonely without an experiment by my side now, so I'm going to have to conjure up a new one. If you have any ideas, please let me know! This stuff is fun.

A Not-So-Fun Night

A while back, I blogged about an agonizing middle school memory, when my "boyfriend" ditched me because he thought I was "butt ugly." (Ugh. I still loathe that first word.)

Although that experience was by far the worst, I have some other humiliating (but funny!) stories to tell from that time in my life. Like this one...

When I was in sixth grade, I was a huge nerd. I had absolutely no friends. The problem was, my family had just moved to a new town, so I had to go to a new school where I knew no one. And that wouldn't be so bad, except it was sixth grade, which is when all of the elementary school graduates join together in one middle school. So the problem was, no one knew that I was the new girl. They just assumed that I came from some other school, so they weren't required to make me feel welcome.

That, and I was just a nerd.

There was one person who liked me, though, and his name was Tom. (That's not really his name. You know the drill.) I'll be honest, Tom was even nerdier than I was. His voice cracked, his clothes never matched, and he didn't appear to have bathed very much. So while I was flattered that he had a crush on me, the feeling wasn't mutual. No, I had my sights set on Pete the Popular Guy, who never noticed me. Well, he did notice me in eighth grade but I'll save that story for another time. It's a good one.

Back to sixth grade. Tom. Nerdiness.

Okay, so every once in a while our middle school would have what they called a Fun Night. It always took place on a Friday from 6:30-8:30 p.m. There were a number of things you could do at Fun Nights, like play basketball or ping pong. But the highlight of the event was a dance. A real dance with a real DJ and everything.

I have no idea why I went to Fun Nights that year. I didn't really have anyone to hang out with, and no one ever asked me to dance. But I was a dreamer, people. I clung to the optimistic belief that my fate could change in a single moment, and before I knew it, I could be livin' the high life. So I went to those dances, dang it, because Pete the Popular Guy just might notice me and I just might instantly transform into the most popular girl in school!

Or, I could stand by myself along the wall and eat nachos. Which is what I usually did, until one night when poor Tom stumbled up to me, fidgeting beyond belief, and said: "W-w-w-will you d-d-d-dance with me?" (He didn't have a stutter; he was that nervous.)

I absolutely did not want to dance with Tom. I thought it would ruin all of my chances with Pete the Popular Guy, or with any of the Popular People. But I looked at Tom and saw how nervous he was and how it must have been difficult for him to even talk to a girl, let alone ask her to dance. Plus, I wasn't doing anything anyway. So I said yes.

Everything was fine at first. We walked to the dance floor and assumed the slow-dancing position. But then, Tom panicked. As soon as my hands touched his shoulders, he must have thought he was doing it wrong or something—all of my life I will wonder what he was thinking at that moment—but he took his hands off of my waist and put them ON MY SHOULDERS. So we both had our hands on each other's shoulders, which was not only a jumbled, awkward mess, but we also looked like some sort of stiff, crazed Frankenstein couple.

I was so stinkin' nice back then and I didn't want to emasculate Tom, so I let him stay that way. FOR AN ENTIRE SONG. After awhile, people started to notice. I saw heads turning our way, I heard snickers, I watched my stupid optimistic beliefs fly out the window. But I stuck it out. And finally, after what seemed like ten hours, the song ended. Tom dropped his arms, said a quick "Thank you," and we went back to our respective positions on the wall.

I was mortified, but in a way it felt good to sacrifice my own humiliation so that Tom wouldn't be humiliated directly by me. And of course, in the end, my reputation was not completely demolished for all of eternity, even though that night I thought it would be.

But my goodness, if I ever have a son, the first thing I'm teaching the boy is how to slow dance.

To Be Real

Over the past couple of days, I've been reading The Velveteen Rabbit with Julietta. I'd forgotten how much symbolism that story offers.

There is one part of the story that is sometimes read at weddings. (In fact, my sister read it at my brother's wedding.) And that's because it is a great metaphor for true love—the kind that really does last forever, even when you're old and falling apart. It can also be a metaphor for true beauty, as well as maturity.

It's just one big metaphorical bundle of wisdom.

"What is Real?" asked the Rabbit one day... "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand... And once you are Real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always."

Later on in the story, when Rabbit is declared Real by the boy who loves him, it reads: That night he was almost too happy to sleep, and so much love stirred in his little sawdust heart that it almost burst. And into his boot-button eyes, that had long ago lost their polish, there came a look of wisdom and beauty.

I don't know about you, but I want all of my hair to be loved off.

Honesty is the Best Policy? Part 2

I've been thinking about my honesty post all day, and I have some more things I want to talk about regarding this subject.

But first, one of the commenters on yesterday's post gave some very wise insight, along with this statement:

99% of the time telling the truth makes things easier... This number would be 100% if women avoided trap questions like "Does this dress make me look fat?" "Do I look fat" and making other comments about being fat or unattractive. Not that we're lying all the time, it's just a lot of pressure to put on a guy, you have to make sure you answer the question with the correct tone, timing, and eye contact.

The reason I call this out is because I have to ask... Ladies... are you really still asking the question "Does this make me look fat?" Because if you are, please stop. First of all, as the commenter noted, you're putting your man in a trap, whether you mean it or not. Even if his response to that question is a resounding "No," you're still going to wonder if he just said that to be nice or because it's the truth. So what's the point in even asking? Also, you know better than anyone else what really looks best on you. If you look in the mirror and are not happy with what you see, then change your clothes. And if you're happy and confident with how a particular outfit looks on you, then wear it with happiness and confidence! Give your man a break and stop asking him that question. Your intuition is much smarter than he is. (Sorry guys, but you know it's true.)

Okay, I'm off of my soapbox now. Kinda...

I now want to talk about dishonesty. Today at Julietta's cheerleading class I was chatting with one of the other cheerleading moms. This woman was young, fun and gregarious, but her eyes had the wear and tear of a rough life. I could tell just by looking at her that she's been through things I didn't even know were possible.

Sure enough, I was right.

We ended up talking about her ex-boyfriend, who happens to be the father of her child (who's in the same cheerleading class as Julietta. Ya follow?). The woman said that she was with this man for nine years—from age 19 to 28—and she didn't find out until the very end that the dude was MARRIED THE ENTIRE TIME. Not only was he married, but he had three other kids! And... AND!!!... he was living with her most of those years, and still managed to hide this secret from her!!

Now, since we're being honest, I will say that the inner cynic in me wondered if she was even telling the truth. This story just seems too bizarre to be real. I also wonder if she knew all along if something was fishy but was in denial or something. But let's just say that the story is true and she really had no clue. I wish I could meet the guy. Because, after giving him a good beating (kidding), I'd ask him about a million questions. Like how on earth did he keep that secret from her, of course. But also, is it really worth all of the hiding and sneaking to have a double life? For NINE YEARS??

I've never, ever understood the concept behind cheating. Not just cheating, but having a full-out affair while still staying in the original relationship. If a person is so unhappy that they're looking elsewhere, shouldn't they just end the first relationship? Is it really possible to love two people? Or is it all about having your cake and eating it too?

I've never cheated on anyone and I've never been cheated on (that I know of, anyway.) But I've seen some very dear friends get their lives torn apart by a cheating spouse, and I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. And I'm still confounded on how cheating even happens. I'm not trying to be self-righteous, I'm just saying that the concept of cheating is one that I simply cannot wrap my mind around. But maybe I'm being naive.

I'm not asking for feedback this time, unless you're willing to offer it. I just wanted to vent, in the aftermath of that poor woman's story. And while I have the platform, if any of you may be cheating or thinking about cheating... like I said to the women who are asking their men if they look fat... please, just stop.

Honesty is the Best Policy?

I've had a busy few days, so it's been a while since I've been able to really dig into the good ol' metaphysical type of discussion that makes me tick. But now I'm poised and ready to pick your brains, about something that's always been a rather conflicting subject for me.

First, the premise... Last week I wrote about my awesome sister Stella, and I mentioned that she gives advice that is straight and to-the-point. One time, a few years ago, I was complaining to her about my then-boyfriend. You see, for some stupid reason, the thing that bugged me most about this boyfriend was that he took the long way to get to my house, instead of the short-cut I preferred. I have no idea now why this bothered me so much. Apparently bad navigational skills was a deal-breaker for me? Forget that the guy was sweet, attractive and romantic... he took AN EXTRA FIVE MINUTES TO GET TO MY HOUSE. Gosh. What a loser.

When I complained about this to Stella, she said, as if talking about the weather: "Why don't you just tell him that it bothers you?"

To which I eloquently replied: "Um. What?"

"Just tell him," Stella said. "I'm sure he doesn't know that it bothers you, so once you tell him, he'll probably stop going the long way."

And then she looked out the window and hummed to the music on the radio, while I thought about how unfair it was that my sister got the common sense gene from my parents. I apparently got the make-everything-complicated gene.

Of course, I had never once thought to TELL my boyfriend that I didn't like his route of choice. Why would I do that? After all, that could hurt his feelings. And I would much rather have gone on brooding about this (which would have reared its ugly head eventually) than to outright hurt his feelings in one fell swoop.

Looking back, it sounds just as ridiculous to me now as Stella probably thought it sounded then.

This isn't the only instance where I haven't communicated my conflicts with a partner. And I'm sure I'm not alone.

Why do we do this? Why are we so afraid to be honest with our boyfriend/girlfriend/spouse about what's bugging us? (Even if it's something as simple as road choice?) Why can't we see that a resolution might come simply by opening our mouth and telling the truth?

On the other side of the coin, how honest is too honest? What should remain unsaid?

Discuss. And be nice this time. (You know who you are, peeps.)

Dance Your Heart Out

One of my favorite shows is So You Think You Can Dance, and one of my favorite dances this past season was performed by Mark and Chelsie, to the song "Bleeding Love" by Leona Lewis.

This dance was choreographed to tell the story of a workaholic husband and his frustrated wife. You can definitely see that struggle in this creative and emotional routine.

Check it out...

Advice from Kyra

I went to the doctor's office today, and while sitting in the waiting room, I read the August issue of Redbook magazine. The cover story featured actress Kyra Sedgwick, who celebrated her 20th wedding anniversary with husband Kevin Bacon this year. In the question-and-answer interview (which closely resembles my Hero & Heroine interviews), Sedgwick offered some of the most refreshing views on marriage that I've heard in a long time.

Here is an excerpt from the interview. I marked in bold the points that really struck me.

What changes in a marriage over 20 years?
Both of our lives are an open book in a way, because we are so boring. We've been married for so long and there are no secrets. But I never in a million years thought there would be sides to Kevin that I'm still learning. [Our relationship] is like a treasure; there are layers and layers of it. I'm constantly amazed that we are still surprised and interested in each other. When I look back at our first four years... by that time we'd had our second kid, and I look back at those pictures and I think, Gosh, I didn't know him at all! I loved him, but I didn't know him, and he probably didn't know me. But you grow together and learn more about each other. I think the trust gets deeper and the dependency gets deeper, which is scary. I think, because my father and mother split up when I was very young, there was a part of me at the beginning of our marriage that thought, I'm cool alone. I love him, but I'm strong enough to handle life without him. But now he is the person I count on to live and walk through life with. It's a dependency that is there and large and real and profound.

How do you handle the conflicts?
We always knew that we were each other's "one." Both of us knew this was forever and we were going to work it out no matter what happens, so when we fight, it's not so scary. You can't be honest with someone if you think that they are going to leave. It doesn't mean that sometimes I don't have bad dreams — which are terrible — but it's just a dream.

As parents, how do you and Kevin make sure you also get what you want?
I feel the primary relationship has to be the mother and the father, and then it can be the kids. Of course the kids come first in planning your life, but it's incredibly important to keep your relationship as a couple strong and make time for it. It's the foundation on which everything is built. Kids should know that your needs are important, because if they think your happiness lies only in them, that's a lot of pressure on them. Plus, I think if you are pursuing your own goals, it makes your kids want to search for whatever their dreams and bliss are.

So, how do you keep your relationship strong?
We got help when we needed to be alone. We check in with each other all the time. I think that's ultimately the best for the kids, because they feel safe when they know Mum and Dad are good, enjoying each other's company and wanting to be alone together. I think that's important.


Not sure why she said "Mum" instead of "Mom," but regardless... That's some good stuff right there. And what makes it even more enlightening is to hear it from someone in Hollywood—where marriages last about as long as it takes me to stand in line at the DMV. If that.

The picture of marriage that Sedgwick paints is the picture I want for my own marriage, whenever that may occur. In my mind, marriage is difficult, labor-intensive. But she makes it actually sound enjoyable. What a concept!

My Very Own Doctor Phil

I would like to take a moment to give a shout-out to my sister.

(I will be referring to her as "Stella," not only because it seems like a very Shakespeare-esque name, but also because my sister has wanted to be called Stella all of her life. I'm making your dream come true, sis, via the World Wide Web. You can thank me later.)

Stella is 17 months younger than me, but she is much, much wiser than me. And this comes as no surprise. All throughout our childhood, it was always like she was the older sister. Mainly because she was loud and boisterous and I was quiet as a mouse. Stella always just took the lead, and I willingly followed. It was a good partnership, although now I'm thinking she got the better end of the deal.

Maybe it's because we're so close in age, or because we shared a room until I went to college, or because we just plain like each other, but Stella and I are—and always have been—very best friends. I can truly say she is my other half. Where I am weak, she is strong, and vice versa. I have book smarts, she has people smarts. I'm a girly girl, she's a tomboy. She's really funny, I'm really good at laughing at her jokes... You get the picture.

Stella lives far away, and has for years. But she and I still talk on the phone at least twice a week. I'm not a big fan of talking on the phone, but I could easily talk to Stella for hours. We always find things to chat about, and at one point or another, our conversation typically lands on boy talk. We fill each other in on our latest crush or boyfriend, and we offer each other advice when needed.

Stella gives the best advice ever. I should pay her for the counseling she gives me. Seriously. First of all, she can read people like a book, and me being her sister, she can read me like a... well, like a really easy book. When I tell her about a struggle I'm having, she can usually pinpoint exactly why it's happening. Then she offers a solution that is so simple, so to-the-point, that I always walk away thinking, "Why didn't I think of that?"

Sometimes I feel guilty that the guidance I offer Stella doesn't even come close to what she does for me. It seems like I'm receiving more so than I'm giving. But the honest truth is, I would give Stella my kidney if she ever needed it—heck, I'd give her all of my major organs. So hopefully (and heaven forbid), if that need ever presented itself, the give-and-take scale would be evened out, and Stella would finally learn how much she really means to me.

I hope that all of you have a Stella in your life. Someone who will listen to your crap, who will bring you back to reality when you need it, and who makes you feel like your load has lightened after talking to them. If you do have such a person, go and thank them right now. If you don't have one, I'll let you borrow mine.

You don't mind, right Stella?

Oh, and Stella?

Thank you.

The computer speaks...

I just realized that it's been a while since my last update about the Online Dating Experiment.

There's not much to report. I'm still getting "winks" and emails from various Matchos. And now I think Match.com is doing the thing where they run my profile through a labyrinthine automated matchmaking system, because all of a sudden lately there's a new category called "Matches." The guys in this category don't appear to have sought me out on their own. They appear to have been called to my attention because we have stuff in common. ("You both like food!") I think these guys are getting my profile under their "Matches" link too.

When I click on said link, it takes me to a Matcho's profile, and I can't see the next guy's profile until I decide if the first one is a "Yes," "No" or "Maybe." Of course I click on "Maybe" because MAYBE I want to see who else the computer might be matching me up with. MAYBE I want to go back to only meeting men in the real world. MAYBE I can't wait for my month-long subscription to be up so that I no longer have to judge the worth of complete strangers based solely on their interests and photos...

Okay, I'm done with the maybes.

I will give props to one of the Matchos. He viewed my profile and—like me—felt that connecting with me on Match is impersonal, so he searched for my username on MySpace instead. Sure enough, I have the same username there too, so he sent me a long message on MySpace. This was nice because I could see his profile too, and for some reason you can find out more about a person on MySpace than on Match. (Facebook is even better, but that's neither here nor there.) This particular Matcho stood out to me, not only because of his outstanding investigational skills, but also because he appears to be a gentleman. And he's a good writer, which delights the nerd in me.

He and I are just chatting for now. I'm impatient and would rather just meet in person soon so I can find out if we're a "Match" in real life too. But I think he's trying to play it cool so I will oblige, I suppose.

I have a lot of other opinions and philosophies forming in my head about the concept of online dating (and about online social networking in general), but I'm going to wait till the month-long experiment is complete before I share them. After all, something unique could happen between now and then, and if I were to make conclusions before all of the evidence is gathered, I would be one lousy scientist.

So stay tuned for about two more weeks.

Two Hearts

I was just reading my favorite bridal blog, Brooklyn Bride, and came across this photo by Max Wanger that is so friggin' cool I just had to share it...



I'm totally stealing that for my wedding day.

(Speaking of, I'm reading the bridal blog for work, not because I'm getting married. Nor because I'm dreaming of getting married and therefore surrounding myself with all things bridal. I may be neurotic, but that would just be pathetic.)

Hooked on Hitch

Over the weekend I saw the movie Hitch. I know that I'm about three years too late, but I'll risk being so yesterday because I really want to talk about this movie.

If you need a refresher, or if you haven't seen the film, I'll give you a brief synopsis of the plot: The main character Hitch, who's played by Will Smith, is known in New York City as the Date Doctor. He helps men—namely men who don't stand a chance—get dates with the women of their dreams. Hitch ends up finding love too, and in doing so he learns that it's not as easy as it looks.

What I love about this film is that Hitch teaches his clients how to have "game," but not in a player kind of way. In fact, he turns down a client who wants only to get in bed with a woman. ("Here's the thing," Hitch says to the guy. "My clients actually like women. 'Hit it and quit it' is not my thing.") He basically just teaches guys how to pay attention to women, and he also pushes them to man up and be confident, because that's what women like most. (And we really do, BTW. Just sayin'.)

But even women can learn from this film. It's just an interesting look at the sociology of people who are either in a relationship or looking to be in one.

Here are some of my favorite quotes from Hitch himself:

"Sixty percent of all human communication is nonverbal, body language; thirty percent is your tone. So that means ninety percent of what you're saying ain't coming out of your mouth."

"The fact is that just like the rest of us, even a beautiful woman doesn't know what she wants until she sees it, and that's where I come in. My job is to open her eyes. Basic Principles: No matter what, no matter when, no matter who... any man has a chance to sweep any woman off her feet; he just needs the right broom."

"One dance, one look, one kiss, that's all we get, Albert. Just... one shot, to make the difference between happily ever after, and oh? he's just some guy I went to some thing with once."

"Begin each day as if it were on purpose."

"When you're wondering what to say, or how you look... just remember... she is already out with you. That means she said yes when she could've said no. That means she made a plan, when she could've just blown you off. So that means it is no longer your job to make her like you... It is your job NOT TO MESS IT UP."

[toasting] "Never lie, steal, cheat, or drink. But if you must lie, lie in the arms of the one you love. If you must steal, steal away from bad company. If you must cheat, cheat death. And if you must drink, drink in the moments that take your breath away."

And my favorite, because it's so true...

"So how does it happen, great love? Nobody knows... but what I can tell you is that it happens in the blink of an eye. One moment you're enjoying your life, and the next you're wondering how you ever lived without them."

What other good love flicks have you seen? Tell me about 'em!

My Hero & Heroine: Renald & Rinny

My pick for this month's Hero & Heroine are two of my best friends, who have chosen to go by the names Renald (the husband) and Rinny (the wife. Obvi.). They've been married for two years, but they've lived through what feels like 30 years of hardship. Rinny's mother has had cancer on and off for two years, and Renald's father died of cancer 1-1/2 years ago. They've also endured their own medical issues, financial difficulties, and other family woes that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Yet, somehow, their marriage has remained a solid pillar of strength throughout all of it. Renald and Rinny also treat each other with more respect than most married couples I know.

Both Renald and Rinny are fun, creative, goofy, and just a blast to be around. My humble adimiration for them—as individuals and as a couple—never ceases. And that is why they are and will always be my hero and heroine...

1. When and how did you meet?
Renald: We met at church. I had seen her a few times, and really thought she was beautiful. We were both known as creative people, so we were asked to create a video for the group we were in. Little did we know that it was a setup. The video took longer than it should have because we spent a lot of time talking. I asked her out after the first video session.
Rinny: It was a setup but not "the almighty setup." Our friends were quite stealthy about it. They used compliments to trick us: "You know how you two are both so creative? Why don't you work on this project together?" The first night we "worked" together we got nothing accomplished because we were more focused on getting to know each other.

2. How was this relationship (pre-marriage) different from the ones that came before it?
Renald: Most of my relationships were shallow before her. I really never felt loved, and was resigned to chasing girls, hoping that I could trick one into dating me. It was sad. I really feel like a lucky man to have Rinny's love. She is amazing.
Rinny: It was unlike anything I had experienced before. There was so much love and fun and respect. Even my family and friends noticed a change in me.

3. How did you know you wanted to marry each other?
Renald: After our first date, we drove back to her house and talked until after midnight. I drove home on cloud nine. My sister asked me the next day about how my date went, and after telling her about it, I knew that I would marry her.
Rinny: It's funny because after our first date, he didn't kiss me goodnight. Well he kissed my hand... so I thought, "Wow. After talking for hours and hours he must still not be that into me." I even told my mom I thought we would just be friends. But by the end of that week I just knew that he was "IT." Yes, it was soon, but before that, marriage had always scared me. Like once it happened life was over. With him I just felt like marrying him would be the beginning of something incredible, and it has been.

4. You've been through a lot of hardship. How does your marriage survive?
Renald: I honestly don't think I would have survived it without her. She's my rock. She's stood by me through my depression and lethargy. She's put up with my work antics. She's supported me when I was a poor excuse for a husband. Without her, I would have given up long ago.
Rinny: Most people say the honeymoon period is the best time. In our situation things have been anything but sunshine and rainbows. We have faced a lot of tragedies in the last 2 years. I think that when one of us is weak, the other is strong. We support each other in that way. Also we laugh a lot! I know people say cancer isn't funny, but you have to make it funny or life is just a drag!

5. How do you handle conflict with each other?
Renald: We are both very forgiving people. Sometimes too forgiving, and then it boils to a head. We've had our fair share of arguments, but there is one important thing. We agreed early on to never yell, and never call each other foul names. That has made a huge difference even when angry. It feels safer to be upset.
Rinny: Well, we don't have a ton of conflict, which can be a double-edged sword. When we do, we are patient with each other. No name-calling or yelling. It breaks our hearts to see other couples disrespect each other.

6. In what ways has your relationship improved since your wedding day?
Renald: We've learned so much about each other since being married. Living with someone is a crazy situation. You learn to bend and adapt. You learn how to provide for the other's needs even when you're tired from a long day. We aren't perfect at it, but we're getting better all the time.
Rinny: I didn't think it was possible, but I love him more and more all the time. We were together for almost 4 years before we married, so you would think we knew each other pretty well, but living with someone changes everything. It's hard work but fun.

7. Do you still go out on dates? If not, how do you manage to spend quality time together?
Renald: We don't "date" as often as we used to. We're focused right now on getting out of debt. So, we've cut our spending money way down. We talk when we are together. We share stories about our days. We text each other throughout the day. Keeping in touch is crucial.
Rinny: Ha! Dates! I know everything I read says we should have date night but it's just not feasible right now. We've cut our spending to try and get out of debt. Not to mention our lives are so hectic that sitting on the couch talking is about all we have energy for. Sometimes I feel like we haven't really sat down to talk in days. That's when we make a point to have some solid face-to-face time.

[Note from Juliet: You can still go on dates without spending any money. Go to a museum or go ice skating, something sweet and pure (and FREE!) like that. I'd like to challenge you (and other couples reading this) to think of creative ways to go on dates without spending a dime. Then tell me about it!]

8. What's your favorite thing about your spouse?
Renald: My favorite thing about Rinny is when we are running around the house being goofy and laughing. We like to make up songs about our animals and each other. I love making Rinny smile. It's entrancing and infectious. She's incredible.
Rinny: His ability to make my darkest moments better. When people meet us they often ask, "Do you just laugh together all the time?" We do. Our day-to-day interactions are hilarious. At least in our opinion.

9. Which fictional TV/movie couple do you resemble most?
Renald: I would have to say Monica and Chandler [from the TV show Friends] to a degree, but Rinny is more like Rachel. So, if Rachel and Chandler ever got together, that'd be us.
Rinny: I would say Lily and Marshall from How I Met your Mother. They are sickeningly sweet but also hilarious.

10. Do you have any advice for young married couples (or soon-to-be-married couples)?
Renald: YES!!! Don't get married too soon. Work through all of the relationship garbage when you can still get time apart. Also, you aren't as important as you think you are, and most of the time your opinion doesn't really matter. Spend each day doing your best to make the other person happy, and your happiness will come right along with that.
Rinny: Ladies, don't emasculate your husband in front of other people (or ever). It's not cute or funny, and if you start early you'll do it forever. Or he'll get tired of it and you will become a statistic. Above all else, respect each other, love each other, take care of each other. Marriage is a give-and-take process.


Thank you, R&R, for your fresh perspective on how to keep a marriage... well... fresh! You are proof that love can truly outlast a storm. And I'm still praying that your storm will soon clear up so the sun can finally shine again. Love you! -JS

Love in Art

One of my dearest friends—who goes by "ccntgrl" on the comment board of this blog—told me about her favorite artist, Jean Honore Fragonard. Fragonard was a French painter who was known for his style of "florid sumptuousness." (So says Wikipedia.)

Fragonard had a tendency toward "scenes of love and voluptuousness." Here are a couple of his love paintings:

The Swing




Stolen Kiss



The following paintings are part of a series called The Progress of Love. They depict, in the order shown, the stages of love as it develops. I think it's cool that these were painted in the 1700s yet still apply today.

Just goes to show you that the experience of love is timeless, and universal.

(Note: Seems like there's a bit of Lover and Beloved going on here...)

The Pursuit


The Meeting


The Lover Crowned


Love Letters


Reverie


Love Triumphant

Slow Dancing

I was thinking today about slow dancing. Is there nothing better in the world than slow dancing? It's the best and most innocent way to get close to someone you care about, in public, and you're brought there solely by the means of sweet music.

The slow dances of junior high were stiff and awkward, yet exhilarating. (I have stories. Ohmagoodness, do I have stories.) And remember in high school when you'd look forward to the school dance for a whole week, because you knew you'd be dancing with your latest crush? Then there's college. I don't know if other colleges have dances, but mine did. Like every weekend. They got old after a while. They became so mainstream that we'd go to the dance with a date and end up dancing with some other random person. (Alcohol had something to do with that, I think.)

But after college, the slow-dancing possibilities kind of come to an end. With the exception of the occasional wedding, there just aren't a lot of opportunities to slow dance in a public setting. I honestly can't remember the last time I did. That makes me sad.

On the other hand, now that slow dancing is a rarity, it has this incredibly romantic stigma. Kind of like going on a tropical vacation. I hardly ever get to do that, but I will never stop wanting to, and when I do I'm going to enjoy every minute of it.

R&B artist John Legend—whose voice could convince me to do something illegal—has a song called "Slow Dance." It's one of those pure, old-school tunes that brings you right back to the dimly lit, streamer-decorated high school cafeteria.

Here's the video. You must watch it because it will make all of the problems in your life fade away, I swear. (Ladies, pretend he's singing to you. That's what I do. Then I melt into a pool of butter.)

Baggage Unpacked?

It's been a while since I've written a new installment to my Baggage series. And I can honestly say it's because I simply ran out of things to write about. I've told you the whole story, and that basically leads me to this point right here.

However, I do want to talk a little bit about the transitional period between my break-up with Paris and this point right here.

Shortly after it officially ended, I became a "scoper." I was constantly scoping my workplace, my church, the grocery store, the alleyway... you name it, all in search of my next boyfriend. I found myself looking at guys I'd never been attracted to and thinking, "He might work for me." During this time, I probably would have justified that a serial killer was worthy of my attention.

The problem with this was (well, there were many problems, but...) these guys who were all wrong for me were beginning to notice that I was scoping them. Maybe because of my whole Free Square thing, I don't know. But it put me into an awkward position, and I felt a bit trapped.

One day it all seemed to be spiraling out of control, and I did not like that one bit. So I stepped back and looked at myself from an outsider's perspective. At that moment, my outsider body was saying to my real body, "Tsk, tsk, Juliet. If you keep this up, you're going to make the same mistakes all over again. You're not looking for a man to love, you're looking for attention—and from any Joe Schmo who will give it to you. Just take a chill pill and STOP LOOKING, for heaven's sake."

If any of my friends had given me this constructive criticism (and some of them did try to), I would have brushed them off, insisting that I was completely composed and knew what I was doing. But when it was myself knocking some sense into me? This time it stuck.

So instead of thinking about my next potential date, I started focusing on the amazing life I already had. I poured into Julietta, spending as much free time with her as I could. My relationship with her grew exponentially. I took on a more active role at work, I started making new friends, I began exercising again. I also began smiling again. A lot.

I finally learned, for perhaps the first time in my life, how to find fulfillment in something other than a man. And as a result I was—and still am—experiencing a joy that I never knew existed.

Of course, as I've discussed before, everyone wants to be loved. And I'm sure it's obvious by my writings on this blog that I still desire a relationship with a good man. But it's different this time. First of all, the interests I have developed in the past couple of months have come naturally—not because I was seeking them out. (BTW, this sort of explains why I'm so hesitant about the online dating thing.) And also, I refuse to let myself fall for the same crap that I fell for in the past. I am not going to settle. Ever. Again. I'm stating that here so that you can all hold me accountable to it. Because settling for less is a lot easier than holding out for more.

But holding out for more sounds like a lot more fun.

Thanks again for letting me unpack my baggage in this format. It feels so good to get all of that junk out of its crammed suitcase. Here's to an open slate, and enjoying life at this point right here.

"L" is for Lame

Well I am just giddy as all get-out.

(Wait, did I just say giddy as all get-out? What am I, Marie Osmond?)

How about this? I'm supa psyched.

That's better.

So I'm supa psyched that there was such dynamic discussion on my post yesterday about whether or not a woman should make the first move on the man. The consensus was pretty even, but it's just fascinating to me that other people are interested in this like I am. I tend to agree with a couple of the readers' opinions that men have backed down a bit in recent years, and women are picking up the slack. At the same time, I kind of like the challenge of being more of a decision-maker in the whole process, ya know? We women no longer have to sit back and wait for a guy to pay attention to us. That's pretty cool. However, it can be taken too far, and that's where it gets tricky.

Moving on.

Today I had a can of Diet Coke for lunch, and when I was done, I moved the little tab thingy back and forth until it came off. And just like any boy-crazy girl would do, I said the alphabet while pushing the tab, in order to find out who I'm going to marry. The tab came off on the letter "F," which means my future husband's name starts with "F." (Frank? Fernando?) But just yesterday the tab came off on the letter "D." (David? I like that name. I could marry a David. But then what about Fernando?)

This little game is so silly, but I've been playing it since I was in sixth grade. That, and the apple stem one. (You say the alphabet at every twist of the stem.) Who thought of these goofy gimmicks? Why do people believe in them? And why on earth am I still taking part in such a ludicrous activity? After all, I've been doing this with every apple and pop can for the past 17 years. And according to the extensive results, I'm apparently going to marry someone whose name starts with a letter between A and Z. Groundbreaking. Maybe I should start keeping track of the letters I get, and the one that comes up the most often will represent the name of my husband.

Either that, or I could quit relying on a piece of aluminum to determine my fate.

Just thought I'd share one of my neurotic little quirks. I hope I'm not alone, but I wouldn't be surprised if I am.

The First Move

I've had a very busy few days, which is why I haven't written anything since Thursday evening. Sorry about that. The life of a social butterfly... Sigh.

Kidding. But not really.

Because my first social event of the weekend was the aforementioned Halloween party, which I attended as Marilyn Monroe. It was a fun costume, and I think it was a hit. But it occurred to me halfway through the party that I should have gone as Juliet, to stay in keeping with my blogosphere persona... Nah, Marilyn Monroe is way cooler.

As the Halloween party made its way into the wee hours of the evening, a small group of us engaged in a friendly debate about relationships. In particular, there was a guy (we'll call him Mikey) who likes a girl (Ginger). There are times when it appears that Ginger's got the hots for him too, but then she'll go off and flirt with some other guy. Which clearly confuses the crap out of Mikey. One of the guys in our group (Daniel) urged Mikey to just straight-up tell Ginger how he feels. Daniel's wise advice was, "Just put it out there. Yeah, she might turn you down. And if she does, well, at least you'll know how she feels. But you're never going to know if you don't make the move, man." His point was that life is too short to keep waiting for the other person to make the first move. Well said, my friend.

But then I brought up the gender issue, which I love doing. I don't care what anyone says—men and women have different strengths, and those strengths should be carried over into romantic relationships. But as we all know, gender roles have gotten all screwed up lately. So I asked Daniel whether or not he thinks it's a turn-on if a girl makes the first move, even though that's typically the man's role. It seems to me that the girl would come across as too aggressive, which is something I've been told all of my life that guys don't like. But Daniel basically said, bring it on. He would love it if the girl made the first move, because then he'll know that she likes him. Which is precisely why we girls like it when the GUY makes the first move.

My head hurts.

What do you think? If you're interested in someone, and if you're not quite sure if that person is interested in you, do you make the move or do you wait for the other person to make it?

And, all of you men out there, I'm begging for some honesty here. If you, like Daniel, appreciate when the girl makes the move, but you don't want her to be too aggressive, how on earth are we to know where to draw the line?

Discuss.

(By the way, the kind of "moves" I'm talking about is innocent stuff like asking for a date or a phone number. Just wanted to make that clear, because sometimes "making a move" has different interpretations.)

Okay, now you can discuss.