THIS is very interesting. It's an interactive map of the most highly populated areas of single men and women, by age.

The map below is just a general map showing single men and women, without taking age into account. It kind of looks like a gang war...or a school dance where all the girls are on one side (Eastside) and all of the guys are on the other side (West Coast, ya'll!).

According to the article linked above, men marry later in life and women marry earlier, however, men also die earlier, leaving more single, older women. The author also points out that with today's surplus of unmarried older women and unmarried younger men, it certainly explains the evolution of the Cougar.


Now, even though this map doesn't take into account "singles who are dating" or "single and gay" men, it does reflect that the west coast has a super high population of dudes.

The question is this: With this seemingly high population of single dudes in Los Angeles, why is it that there are so many quality, un-coupled women? Case in point: Me!



I currently have 3 theories.

1.  We have a lot of guys in LA that are single, but they're not really available singles. There's a lot of guys in the entertainment industry focusing on their careers or good looking guys chasing dreams of acting, but neither kind of guy is really the kind you want to date or who wants to have a relationship.

2.  It's because in LA, the standard for attractive women is so much higher. Why would a guy want an average looking chick when he can bang lots of young, hot, actress wannabes? (Remember that episode of 30 Rock, wherein Liz makes a statement to the effect that she may be a "5" in New York, but in Ohio, she could be a supermodel? HA and also, TRUE!)

3. LA is just an unfriendly city overall. It's not like New York where you meet people on the subway, or in the street. People in LA are super spread out so your chances of meeting someone are less likely.

And, there's also my more depressing back up theory: I'm just a terrible, stupid, mean, boring and ugly person.

Then again, that doesn't make any sense, seeing as I'm awesome, smart, nice, funny and cute.

THIS is a list of the top 10 cities in the world with the highest population of "hot" women. LA ranks in the middle, #5, just between Moscow and Bulgaria.

There was a "study" done of the cities in the US with the highest population of "attractive" people. Take a gander of the entire list HERE.

According to the list directly above, LA is #4 for the highest in hottie population, but second from the last in another study for being friendly.

What does this mean? That LA has a lot of hot, unfriendly people. Shocker.
Lol, but also,

A friend and I had a conversation recently about dating.

As single as a one dollar bill, I explained over afternoon cups of tea that I was thinking to start online dating again.

This statement was met with a look of surprise. "Online dating?" he asked. "But why would you need to do that? Surely
you don't have trouble meeting men."

"It's LA. Everyone has trouble meeting everyone. Besides, alot of people date online. It's really just not a big deal anymore." I explained, surprised to hear that someone still considered online dating to be taboo.

And then suddenly, my mind went to another place....To a place where there was no internet.

A place called....the 90s.

I was but a girl of 14 in the era pre-internet.

It was a dark age, a time before cell phones were mainstream and when girls and guys were forced into face-to-face interaction.

That's right. In my day, "chat rooms" were just cafe's or bars were you'd meet someone and engage in a conversation. None of this sitting at a computer and talking to other people through their computers kind of business. No sir-ee!

Back then, if you wanted to get to know someone, there were no social networking pages to stalk.

You had to be creative enough to worm your way into their social circle, corner them somewhere, and just plain converse. FACE TO FACE. Or, if they lived far away, it would be via phone call or by letter.

That's right. Back then we had to spend 30 cents to send our thoughts via paper to someone else and then we had to wait at least a few days time to receive back a letter to hear their response.

There was no LOL or LMFAO or IM'ing of each other. There was no or or )'ing. We had to actually sit or stand
in front of each other and make those faces in person so that someone knew how we felt about something.

Internet dating, what was once a taboo thing in the earlier part of the 21st century and the 1990s, was most commonly thought of as "unsafe".  It was looked down upon as a way for weirdos, nerds and murderers to connect with people.

It was thought of as a "last resort" for those who suffered many failed attempts at meeting people the old fashioned way.

No, I'm not talking about video dating or making out with someone at a bar, only to wake up in the morning with a hangover
and a phone number smeared across your hand. I'm talking about meeting people out-and-about or through other people or organizations.

But as time progressed, websites became more advanced and people became more curious and lazy. Now, online
dating has become mainstream!


Sure, there may still be  weirdos, nerds and murderers online, but there are also some non-weirdos, non-nerds and non-murderers, just waiting to meet you! And what you will all already have in common is that you like the convenience of dating without having to venture into a crowded, dimly lit bar or church to meet them.

As someone who has done her share of online dating, in this new year I offer a few words of wisdom to those who are taking that giant leap over to their Iphone or laptop to create an online dating profile:

1. Never exchange emails with someone for more then 2 weeks max. The longer you wait to meet in person, the more time you waste exchanging information with someone that you may not be attracted to in real life. Remember: Meeting someone online is just a stepping stone to meeting them in person. No matter how witty they are in emails or hot they are in their profile pics, you will really never know if you "mesh well" or have chemistry until you meet in person.

2.  Don't add someone as a "friend" on facebook or myspace just because you've exchanged a few emails and they seem cool. Believe me, the last thing you want is to meet someone, not feel a connection, and then to feel pressured into having to keep in contact with them. This brings me to...

3.  Thou shalt not give out thy phone number to someone they have never met in person. While it's true that you can tell a lot about a person by their voice, you don't want to have someone continuously text or call you if you turn out not to be interested, or, almost as bad, if you never even end up physically meeting.

4.  Don't put up old ass pics of yourself. People will eventually meet you, and if you have been "false advertising", they will not have been attracted to the real you.

5. Always meet for the first time or two in public places. Screw (or rather, don't) those people who insist on you meeting at their place the first time or even on picking you up. Safety first and while there are a lot of cool, normal people online, there are douche bags and weirdos too. A cool, normal person would never insist on meeting you alone or on picking you up. They get that safety comes first and don't take it personally.

Happy New Year to Everybody!

 

I distinctly remember the first time I heard of the concept of having "no expectations" of a boyfriend/lover.

It was about 4 years ago, on the balcony of the apartment I was sharing with my then boyfriend, S.

My friend from back in Missouri, Farrah, was visiting.
We were sitting on the floor of my balcony, dangling our legs out from under the disturbingly inadequate
railing, having a conversation about her current relationship, which seemed to be going...well, swimmingly.

"I think the trick is to go into something having no expectations," she said. "If you don't expect anything, then you won't
be hurt if it doesn't work out."

I sucked my Popsicle.
It was a hot Indian summer day and the air conditioning in my apartment just wasn't cutting it.

"Interesting." I believe was my choice of words.
And then we headed down to the pool.

And it was interesting.
I had never heard of such a concept.  It echoed in my head long after Farrah had packed up and went back to Missouri.

If you don't expect anything, then you won't be hurt if it doesn't work out.

This is a nice concept, but isn't expecting yourself or someone else not to have any expectations really just an expectation in itself?

I like to think that I am a person who, while having some expectations, does not impose unreasonable ones.

The expectation that someone won't sleep with someone else when you are in an exclusive relationship-Pretty reasonable.

The expectation that someone can honestly say that they are with you because they want to be with you, and not because of
some silly misunderstanding that they're just riding through-I think this is pretty reasonable as well.

Relationships are like waters.
We all need it to live.
Still, while water can be calm and relaxing, or swimable and fun, water can also kill you.
Waters, like relationships, have the ability to drown you or throw you up again jagged rocks.

Sink or swim, expectations, like fish, will inevitably run in those waters.

Time and time again, I have heard from much wiser sources that you should wade into the waters-go slow, don't just jump in and allow yourself to be caught up in the excitement of the current.

Easier said then done, especially when someone else is coaxing you into jumping into something that looks refreshing.

Rivers are streams of water that start out small and turn into something bigger.
Sometimes those waters trickle back into streams and then dry up into nothing at all.
Sometimes they flow into an ocean and become a part of something much bigger and deeper.

Regardless of what the end result may be, when someone is happy to be with someone else, they should know it.
They should know that regardless of how they got there, that it's where they want to be at that moment.

This, while being an expectation, is reasonable and if the other party is unsure, then it might just be time for both of you to get out of the water.

You know how rare it is to meet someone that you have a connection with?
Some one who you can have good conversations with and who makes you want to rip off their clothes when they walk into the room?

It's the kind of spark that turns into a flame and then that flame turns into a full blown fire.
It burns bright and lights you up from the inside.
It's the kind of connection that makes you glow.

It's also the kind of connection that apparently has the ability to make me feel guarded and vulnerable for no apparent reason.

I had a conversation with Sylvia about this.
It was Saturday afternoon and we were walking past the third street promenade towards Pacific. It was close to sunset and a crisp and sunny 70 degrees, but because we live in LA we were freezing and warming our hands with hot cups of Starbucks.

I had just confided to her about the recent man and the whole spark/flame/fire thing going on.

"That's good!" she cheered.  "You deserve a good guy who is good to you."

"Yeah but it's also making me a little crazy. Things are going so well that it's like it's too good to be true and then I work myself up and get really guarded and weird."

She gave me a sideways look and shook her head. "That makes no sense."

We crossed the street and she added, "Well, actually I guess it does. It's just your baggage."

"I don't want baggage!" I yelled a little too loudly.

"Too bad, because as of now you're her." she said and gestured towards a homeless woman sunning herself on a bench. Black plastic bags were stacked in the shopping cart beside the bench.

She was right.

I never wanted to be the girl who let the past get in the way of the present, who let it sabotage her future.
And yet, here I was, a baggage lady.



Baggage: Something you use to carry things from one place to another.  Generally you pack things in it and take it on trips.

Relationship Baggage: Bad habits or unsolicited negative feelings packed away from previous relationships and taken on into a new relationship.

My last relationship had ended somewhat abruptly and seemingly without reason.

It didn't make any sense. Things had been going so well.
He was the one initiating our exclusitivity.
He was the one who wanted to meet my family.
And then he broke up with me.

Disappointed and confused, I took my heart off my sleeve and packed it away for a long time.
Apparently I had also packed away some lingering unresolved issues because the next time I unpacked my heart an awful lot of wariness came out.

"I know, I know," I admitted to Sylvia as we brushed past a group of overly-excited Asian tourists. "I hate it! I hate feeling like I'm just waiting for something to go wrong. It's like the more you care about someone the more you have to loose and the more awful you know it would be."We stopped and leaned over the cliff and faced the ocean and the sun setting over it.
She gave me a sympathetic look and pushed the hair out of her face.  I thought she might have some piece of enlightening advice to give, or words of encouragement.

"Sucks, dude." she says.

We sip our coffees, both the bitter and the sweet warming us.

It's sad when you wait for good things to fall apart because they usually do.
It's sad when you realize that you inadvertently sabotage your relationship because at least then you have control over something that in this day and age seems ever-impending.

The more relationships we have been in, the more likelihood of baggage there is.

Whether it's trust issues because you were cheated on or a fear of opening up to someone because when you have in the past
it has seemingly scared people off---most of us have some sort of baggage we carry from one relationship to the next.

I share these sentiments with my friend Charles, who gives me a pittying "Tisk" over watermelon martinis at The Abbey the next night.

"Honey, do you know the reason airlines only allow 2 items of baggage per passenger?" he asks.

I gaze upwardly, lips slightly parted over my glass in thought.

He touches my arm. "Don't think so hard, your blond is showing!" he says and then cackles. "The reason airlines only allow 2 items of baggage per passenger is because if everyone brought all of their baggage on board, the plane would end up in a nose dive!"

I think about what he just said. Exasperated, he pats my head, "It means you're only allowed a little baggage in a relationship, so choose your issues wisely!"

I must still look a little confused, because he the pat turns into a good old fashioned shaking "Hel-lo! Turb-u-lence!"

What Charles and all his snarkiness was getting at was that while some baggage may be inevitable, but you don't have to let it allow you to sabotage your happiness.

You don't have to allow previous bad experiences to screw over your good ones.

The next time you get ready to carry-on your baggage, think again and check-it.
Start with a blank slate.
If you don't, you'll only end up hurting yourself and others.

Pack it up and back it up.
Good things are good things-take them as they come for face value.

As each birthday looms close, I often think of death.



Morbid, I know, and this year is no exception: I'm turning 30, a landmark, and my mother just died last week, also a landmark.

When I was about 4 or 5, my mother gave me a piece of advice, which while at the moment seemed puzzling and preposterous, became a huge pillar of wisdom in my adult life.  She said,  "Sometimes you have to laugh at the things in life that make you want to cry the most."

While our last real conversation was humorous, I don't think I'll ever laugh at this situation.
So instead, I'll write about it.

My mom was diagnosed with cancer over a year ago. Her cancer was like one of those games at Chucky Cheese where you'd smash down the lumps with a big mallet, only for another lump or 2 to pop up in a different location. No matter how much you smashed, they'd just pop back up somewhere else.

For the longest time and through all the various treatments and hospitalizations, she kept a positive disposition.

As positive as she was, I still found myself with a lump in my throat when I heard my coworkers talk about their children and fumbling for my sunglasses when my eyes teared up upon noticing a stranger who resembled her even in the slightest. The worst was when I attended my friend Bari's bridal brunch and broke into great gasps and sobs, touched by her soon-to-be mother-in-laws declarations of motherly love for her.

My mother and sister's positive disposition made me feel as if they were all trying to trick me.
By the age of 29 I had already lost 1 friend to cancer and known 3 that had been diagnosed with some serious form or another before their mid 20s.

Thoughts of her cancer gnawed away at my insides and rubbed my emotions raw.
Things that were fun suddenly weren't as fun anymore and I found myself pushing harder and harder to have fun.
Any distraction was at least some distraction-whether it was good or somewhat self-destructive.

When I was a teenager, it was out of both morbidity and anxiety that I would lay  awake in my bed and think about my parents dieing.
I'd lay awake in the darkness and quietly work myself into tears at the thought.

When it came (because it would), how would I be able to breathe if they could not breathe?
Would I really be able to eat if they could not eat? Could I ever really feel happy if they could not feel anything?



I thought of this right after my mom died last week. It was 3 hours after she took her last shuddering breath.
It was 3.5 hours after I had laid in the hospital bed beside her and kissed her bald head and held her hand and told her all of the important things you only admit to a parent as they are dieing.

And then I ate a piece of cake.
And I kind of hated myself for it.

I sat scowling at family friends that I hadn't seen in years and didn't want to see that day of all days.
My nose was snotty and and my face was streaked with eye makeup.

I was kind of hungry and kind of just not wanting to talk to any of them, so I reached for the cake.
As I chewed on that bready sweetness, I also chewed on my own guilt.

Grief works in mysterious ways-paralyzes some and humbles others...can be the source of great creation or great destruction...a motivation or a darkness.
For me, it is all of these things-a roller coaster like no other. 

I'm up and down although I hear it gets better.

Today after work, with plans to check out a new "secret" bar, The Roger Room, in the evening, I raced home to throw together the songs for my moms memorial service this weekend.

After downloading the ones my sisters suggested, I found we were half an hour short or so. 
An hour later, I was blubbering over the Carpenters and the Beatles and canceling plans.

Damn, I had been doing pretty good for the last few days, too!

She is gone.
My Creator. My Teacher. My Protector.

Death is part of life, but I still feel as if part of me is gone-devoured by loss.



I am the kind of girl, who even at 30, still needs a mother.
No matter how much I distanced myself emotionally or physically, I still needed her.
Her reassurance, her motherly disapproval, and over the past few years her commiseration of single life.

I look into the mirror and I see her face in my own refection.
Most moments of joy are quickly humbled by the sharp and overwhelming stab of sadness.

It won't completely go away, I know.
There will be time like yesterday when I reached for my phone and had a flash of "I should call mom and see how she's doing" and then I will feel a pain of idiocy and sadness.

Still, with time I know the pain will slowly scab over.

We don't want what is necessarily good for us.

It's normal.

I mean, most of us have to actually train ourselves to choose the healthy options over the junk.

Choosing the carrot sticks over the fluffy, buttery popcorn.
Opting for the sensible salad instead of the gooey pizza slice.

It's the same with relationships: No matter how bad someone is for us, we go back for more. We indulge in these junk-food relationships even though we know they're bad for us.

Nothing worth having comes easily, but what happens when the only obstacle we have to overcome is ourself?

This reminds me of a conversation I had with Heather, who used to be a good friend of mine.
 Her and her new boyfriend had recently split up.
And then she decided to make out with a mutual acquaintance in front of him at a friend's wedding.
And then they fought and got back together.
And then they split again...
Only to get back together.

We were walking around the abandoned zoo at Griffith Park gripping Starbucks and and cell phones like any other ordinary LA'er.
It was October, but it was warm outside and there for a friends birthday picnic.

At that time, I felt very strongly that there was only so much you could say to a friend who kept claiming to be in pain but then went back for more.  I felt like I was talking to a wall and had stopped feeling bad for her.

Back then, I truly thought that if a friend aired their issues to you, it was because they wanted solutions.

Since dating the new guy, it was like all logic was lost on her.  I'd given up pacifying the situation and affirming her crazy choices with sympathetic head nods.

Maybe all she needed was for someone to be honest with her.
Maybe that honest person was ME.
Maybe that would snap some sense into her!

"It's exhausting," she's claimed.  "He tells me that I'm the love of his life and then he flirts with all these other girls in front of me."she sighed.

We paused to check our text messages, sip our lattes and then continued on the path.

"It's exhausting just to hear about it," I confirmed carefully, "I can't even imagine what it's like to go through."

And then came the sense-snapping honesty!

We approached the picnic area where our friends are gathered around smoky BBQ grills and under a Happy Birthday banner.

I had meant to casually toss it out, but eager to give her the honest, life altering answer I wanted, the words poured out.  "Is it really worth it? I mean, is it really a healthy situation? He always hurts you and then you spend all your time getting back at him.  Then you guys just get back together and it happens again."

She raised an eyebrow and opened her mouth, only to be interrupted by our friend who whisked her away.

A few minutes later I was pouring orange soda at a picnic table.  I looked up and caught the tail-end of Heather's icy glare, which plainly said, "It's not like you've never made bad choices."

Of course I'm not perfect.

I've certainly made many non-healthy decisions-Wearing teetering heels that made my toes go numb by the end of the night instead of the lower heels...
Dating a man who was an obvious piece of shit only to cry about it to my friends but repeatedly continue to see him...
Opting to sit on the couch with Chinese food and the Daily Show instead of hitting the gym after work*.

Why is it that no matter how bad someone is for us, we still go back for more?
We indulge in these junk-food relationships even though we know they're bad for us.

My friend Eric met a wonderful girl.
She's smart and witty and for the past few months he is constantly bringing her to parties and other social functions.

Despite the fact that he always introduces her as a friend, when she talks to other men, he looks the other way and noticeably tries to look busy.

"Why aren't you two dating?" I ask one night.

We're downtown at Elevate, looking out over the glimmering lights of downtown and gulping down $15 cocktails like they're...well, $5 cocktails.

He puckers his lips into a thoughtful expression and turns to face me.  "She's not the one."

I try not to laugh.
It isn't usually men who throw out that term in general conversation.

"Really? Because from where I'm standing," I say and gesture towards the twirling pixie on the dance floor, "She's the only ONE you really spend time with anymore."

He shrugs and looks down. "Yeah, she's great. She's everything I would want if she was the one, but she's not."

"You're not attracted to her?" I suggest.

"No, she's cute." he admits.

Vodka and nonsense are an exasperating combination.  "That makes no sense. How exactly do you KNOW she's not this elusive..the one?"

"You know." he says and finishes his martini. "I just know."

I make a terrible face that shames him back out to the dance floor where he grabs his "friend" around the waste and maneuvers her away from the random guy she was dancing with.

He knows she isn't the one because...he just knows.
(Even though he spends most of his time with her and talks insistently about the time they spend together when she's not around.)

This is fine.

We all have our "types" and preferences, but Eric is also the guy that spent a year in a live-in relationship with a shady girl who may or may not have repeatedly cheated on him, "mistakenly borrowed" several hundred dollars off of his credit card and cost him
his job due to the number of sick days he took to stay home with her and "work out their issues".

This was a year ago, but that's right-you guessed it: He still goes back for more!

I stand there, a bit chilly in my sleeveless frock, resenting the fading warm weather and watch Eric with his friend, laughing and dancing.

I know that when the song is over, he will lead her off the dance floor into the arms of their mutual friends and grab another cocktail.

He will leave her there-the apple, and end up drunk texting the crazy ex-the bag of cookies.

Why do we do it to ourselves?
Why is it we look and see what is good for us and what is bad for us and knowingly choose the less healthy of the options?

Is it because we secretly don't want what's good for us?
We don't feel we really deserve it?

Or is it because we're so used to the junk food relationships we get into, that we're afraid to break that mold and opt for the healthier option?

It's like the boy who refused to eat his spinach.
"I don't like it." he says stubbornly.
His mother sighs, "How do you know you don't like it if you've never had it?"
He pouts.
He wants potato chips.
And a lifetime of potato chips will lead to high cholesterol, obesity and heart disease.

Maybe it's time to get on a relationship diet.
The junk is only fun for so long before it takes its toll and the long term side effects become apparent.

We have to recognize what's good for us, or who's good for us, and make these changes consciously.

Funny-Sometimes you have to force yourself to get to the gym or choose the salad over the fries, but after a while, making those healthy choices comes more and more naturally until you don't even realize that you're doing it anymore...you just know you feel better.

*I reason that even though it's fake news, it's fake REAL news and that exercising my mind is just as important as toning my stomach. HA!) 

You know those times when you first meet someone and feel like you hit it off right away?
These are very rare situations, but they do happen!

You're talking-the conversation is going this way and that and you're keeping up with
each other and unearthing all of the amazing things you have in common.

The body language is right-leaning towards each other, making eye contact, realizing
that you're lightly touching each others arm when you laugh.

At the end of the night, they ask for your number.
That's right--You didn't even ask them-they asked you!

As you leave them you have this renewed feeling of confidence.
Your senses are heightened.

You feel like you're glowing from the inside-out because you've finally met somebody that
you're into and they're into you.

And then you wait for the call that will confirm it all.  That text or call that
will be slightly awkward, but lead to a date with someone with whom the possibilities
could be endless!

You're patient. You stay busy as the hours and days pass by.
After a week, you feel the glow fading.
After more then a week, the glow has gone out and you're back to square one.

The cold realization sinks in that they're not going to call.

"I don't get it." Sylvia sighs over the phone one night.  "What happened?
What did I do wrong?" she wails.

While Syliva pours her heart out, I'm planted on my couch, painting my toenails a
rusty shade of red.

"Nothing. You didn't do anything wrong." I say.

"Then what the hell? Everything was going great! Why would he ask for my number and
then just not call me?"

I wait until the roommate, 2.0, is out of the room before responding with our
recent mantra, "It's hit or miss.  You know that!"

Sylvia lets out a groan. "I know, I know-Hit or miss! But it still feels so shitty."

Our new dating mantra, hit or miss, is based on the theory that regardless of how
great things are going with someone, you should never just "expect" things will go well.
Dating, as with most other aspects of life, is a game of chance.
You roll the dice and take chances and sometimes just when it feels like you're winning,
you loose.

Giving up your expectations can allow you to just roll with the punches and
save some face...and heartache.

"That's pessimistic!" Tara laughs.

It's a few days later and Sylvia and I are catching up with Tara at our local watering
hole, South.

I swirl the ice around in my cosmo-on-the-rocks-in-a-regular-glass. "It's not
pessimistic, it's realistic!"

"It's true, unfortunately." says Sylvia, eying up the talent behind the bar. "You just
hang out and don't think about it and then if things don't work out it doesn't feel so bad."

Tara stares at us for a second and then sets down her glass.
And Tara NEVER sets down her glass before it's empty.

"Oh my god." she says. "That makes total sense. It makes sense because there is no sense."

I used to beat myself to bits when things started awesome with someone and then
crashed around me with an unexpected thud.  Even using "hit or miss" as a dating mantra,
there are times when I feel my mind slipping back into the general direction of "girl
craziness".

But then I stop.
I take a deep breath.
I realize I can never know what lies beneath the surface of an amazing conversation or
a soul penetrating kiss.

It's a relief to give yourself permission to just be ok with things and not analyze
the maybes and what if's.

I wipe the slate clean again.
I wipe my hands clean again.
And then I move forward because I know that you've got to go through a lot of misses to
eventually get the hits.

Skunks spray.
Cats hiss.
Dogs bare their teeth and bears will maul you to death.

And people?
What do we do when we're scared?
We get defensive or snarky or we just shut down.



I visited Seattle recently.
People smiled.
Men said hello and offered to buy you a drink...or an umbrella, depending on the situation.
There were conversations started at bars, at farmers markets and in lines for coffee or cheese sandwiches.

It was a mecca of single goodness and it was weird.

I came back to LA.
I went to bars, I went to the gym, and halfway through a speed walk to Starbucks, I realized why I met so many
people in Seattle and why I've met so few in LA: I don't smile at people very often...and they don't smile either.

How often do you walk down your street and have someone throw you a smile? Do you notice how often we  avoid eye contact?

LA: It's sunny, but we're not as friendly as one might think.
Is this why being single in LA gets such a bad wrap?

I ponder over the smile theory with new roommate, 2.0.
We are feasting on a delightful breakfast of hangover delicacies-Ramen Noodles and sandwiches.

"Wemon always wonder say they want a guy to make the first move, but why would you want to approach a girl when she just looks pissed?" says 2.0.

"Maybe she had a bad day. Maybe she's trying to...look hot or something." I suggest and then flash him my best hot-girl-pout.  

He gives me a wry, sideways look and a long, drawn out "I don't know..."

I swallow my noodles. "When you're a smiley girl, you look naive...or stupid..especially if you're blonde like me." I say.

2.0 shakes his head and then groans a little in pain.  "Or...you might just look approachable.  Guys like girls who smile.  It says Hey, I'm not a bitch. I'm cool and I might not shut you down."



People have bad dating experiences.  They get shut down or broken up with or cheated on.
After so many bad experiences, even the most confident, most outgoing individual can become guarded and feel vunerable.

We are afraid and so not smiling becomes a habit.

Freezing our asses off in 60 degree weather, Sylvia and I conversed behind the velvet rope of a brand new club downtown.  She thinks I'm reading too much into the smile theory.

"I think you're reading too much into the smile theory." she says and rubs her arms.
"I smile all the time and I still don't meet people."

"Are you sure?" I ask. "Because I used to think I smiled a lot too, until I really started to pay attention and let me tell you-I don't! I don't smile and I think I might look mean."

"Interesting." she admits. "But it sucks to smile and look like a goof ball if other people don't smile back."

The bouncer unhinges the rope and we slide inside.
"What is this," I ask her, "Playing chicken with smiles?"

Being thrown a random smile in LA is like being waived through traffic* by the driver of a BMW-It's unexpected and a little confusing, but appreciated none-the-less.

A smile: A simple gesture, that can have many, many meanings.
Depending on how it's done, it can mean "How are you" or "Let's make sex" or "I am acknowledging your presence".

I guess the trick is to use your smiles wisely.
Don't dispense them frivolously to people that look like they might stab you, but yes, why not smile at a neighbor, the person delivering you a sandwich or that person across the bar?

So be brave-Smile!

You might just get a date or, even better...You might just make someones day a little better.



* Speaking of which, have you noticed the confounded looks you get when you pause
to let someone through in traffic? Us La'ers are especially confused when the
pause is followed by a short waive.  Small town folk know "the waive". It's a friendly
gesture given to drivers either as you allow them through or as you are let through.  
In LA, people look at you like you're flashing a gang sign. 

I recently stumbled upon these tear inducing quotes:

“If you live to be 100, I hope I live to be 100 minus 1 day, so I never have to live without you.”

“If ever there is tomorrow when we're not together.. there is something you must always remember. you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. but the most important thing is, even if we're apart.. i'll always be with you.”

These are not quotes from F. Scott to Zelda, nor are they quotes from any other set of lovers.
They are quotes from Winnie the Pooh.

When I was little, I had a Winnie the Pooh doll.
I loved it and took him everywhere. There is photographic evidence of me singing and talking to him.
I fell asleep with him.  I took him outside and threw him into piles of leafs because I thought he'd enjoy it.

There was the fateful day when I suddenly realized Pooh might be hungry and tried to feed him honey.
My mom tried to wash him but he fell apart in the spin cycle.
She presented me with his worn, tattered and detached carcass.  He couldn't be sewn back together and thus was the end of my friend Pooh.

“It is more fun to talk with someone who doesn't use long, difficult words but rather short, easy words like "What about lunch?”

"Some people care too much, I think it's called love."

My mother advised me from a very early age that I should be sure to marry my best friend.  In fact, I recall her advising me of this on several occasions.

It was a piece of advice that I packed carefully and took into my adulthood with me.
Much like my old Pooh, I carried it around everywhere I went.

And much like my old Pooh, I have found that I have inadvertently worn it out.

Every serious relationship I have ever been in, stemmed from some form of friendship.
Granted for each friend turned lover, there have been many more that remained purely friends.

The trouble with falling for a friend is this: If you start out as friends, it is probably because one of you
don't feel a romantic attraction to the other.

"The more Pooh looked inside, the more Piglet wasn't there."

While there are some cases where friendships successfully blossom into something romantic, there are so many more that do not.

You can find yourself laughing with your friend and get the sudden urge to pull them close and hold them.
You can have a fight with your friend, only to realize at the end of the day it isn't as important as waking up and having another day together.

Isn't that what love is? To be able to laugh and cry and fight and be terribly honest with someone and still want to hold them through the night and do it all over again the next day?

Maybe it is, but you can never have it if the other half of the friendship never feels the same way.

My brain smugly cries "Karma!" as my heart shudders to think of any male friends who's romantic expectations I may have carelessly shot down.  Being on the other side does not feel good.

"Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day."

No matter how much it hurts, there are times when you must be your own best friend and know when it's time to
protect your own heart. You have to respect their feelings and tuck yours aside and either be a friend or step
away completely.  You can not keep up the illusion that one day they will look across the room and suddenly see you in the way that you see them.

In closing, I do not think that my mothers advice was wrong.
I think that I misinterpreted how to go about it.

You can love your best friend and maybe even eventually marry them, but maybe it will be someone that you are first attracted to that turns into a romantic friendship, and not falling in love with someone who only wants to be
your friend.

Piglet sidled up to Pooh. "Pooh," he whispered.

"Yes, Piglet?"

"Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw, "I just wanted to be sure of you.

LA is a city filled with actors and actresses and wannabe actors and actresses. 
The thing is, when you’re single in the city, we're all a little like actors and actresses.

Isn’t dating really just like one big audition after another?  Aren't dates like auditioning for the role of "girlfriend 1" or "boyfriend 1"?  At the very least, they're auditions for the role of "person that gets hot sex at the end of the night". 



At the end of said date, one party or the other may hold "call backs" or give a short and sweetened version of  "You're just too short/old/inexperienced for this role, honey".

When you aren’t single in the city, there are times in a relationship when you still feel as if you are playing a role.
Like it or not, there are always things that even the most honest of person hides from the other in an effort to keep the peace or save the person we care about embarrassment or from being upset.

It can be anything from acting like your dates breath doesn’t smell like onions to acting like the occasional “Boys Weekend in Vegas” doesn’t bother you. 

As Shakespeare once said “The World is a stage and we are all it’s actors”.

Years ago, I had a boyfriend who got drunk at a Thanksgiving dinner party.  I drove him home and put him to bed. Being the smarty I was, I decided that because he was so drunk and things had not been so great between the two of us recently, that I would take this opportunity to pop the Big Question.

"So," I said slowly as I started to slip his shoes off. "Has something been bothering you?"

“Truthlessly?” he asked.

”Truthfully.” I corrected him.

He brought his head up from the pillow and slurred without hesitation, "I think that when I met you, you tricked me into thinking you were so ambitious and had all these things you wanted to do with your life but it was all a lie.  You haven't accomplished anything over the past year and probably never will."

I was stunned. “Why didn’t you say something about this before if it bothered you?”

“I don’t know. I thought if I pretended like it didn’t bother me then maybe it really wouldn’t.”

That night I let him sleep with one shoe on and one shoe off.

He had let me have it. 
It= The cold, hard, un-sugar coated truth.
 
The next day we both pretended like he had never said anything at all.  We broke up weeks after that.



Like a lot of LAer's that claim to be health conscious but secretly revel in the masses of cupcakeries that line our fair streets, I found my good friend Alex dropping a confession on me while we braved a 20 minute cupcake line.

“I went on a date last weekend with new-hot-office-guy and I didn’t tell you.” She said quickly and then looked around quickly to see if anyone else heard/cared.

I laughed. "Okayyy. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

"Because I'm sort of ashamed."

"Let me guess-you're ashamed of having hot and dirty shame sex?"

"Not quite." she said sheepishly and then spilled the story.  "We went to Lola's for drinks and everything was really good. Then there was this girl there that came up to our table and he introduced her as a friend.  They kind of flirted in front of me for a good ten minutes before she left.  Then after she was gone the rest of the date was fine.”

“Didn’t that bother you?” I asked.

She shrugged. “It did. It was frigging rude but I acted like I didn’t care. I didn’t want him to think I’m jealous.”

I was in awe of her powers of non-freaking out. “But it did bother you. You were on a date with him and he flirted with another girl in front of you! Or was he just being friendly?"

“No, there was a lot of arm touching for just "bring friendly"...And he got her new number before we left.” She shrugged and repeated. “It bothered me but I didn't want him to think I'm jealous.”



I always wondered if it was easy or hard for an actor or actress to know when the acting stopped and their real lives began.  How can you go from a scene where you are an angry person and go out into the real world and not still feel angry? The same thing applies to  dating and relationships.  How can you go from knowing or feeling something that is one way and then act another without things coming back to bite you in the ass?

In the end, whether you are Single in the City or in a relationship, I guess the best thing to do is to try and be open about your feelings without being accusatory or hurtful.

So was Alex's "new-hot-office-guy" a quality man with some good female friends...or just a player?
If my ex had told me that my not attaining goals made him resent me in an inspirational or calm way, would he have slept with both shoes off that night? Or even better, would he have slept with me for longer then another week?

If you feel the need to act that too many things don't bother you, then maybe the part of "girlfriend 1" or "boyfriend 1" just isn't worth auditioning for in the first place.