Who Am I Dressing Up For?

July 3, 2007

There are two versions of me that exist. There is one version that dresses as she needs to every day and then there is another version that is supposed to be wearing all of these clothes that are hanging in my closet. Of course these clothes never get worn. They are meant to be worn by some much more glamorous version of me that appears in a magazine or that is invited to parties where people like Lindsay or Paris are present.

For instance, in my closet there is a white crochet mini dress hanging there. This thing has more holes in it than a spider web yet somehow when I bought it I thought it was the ideal thing to wear to my next party out. There are just a few things wrong with it. First of all you need to wear a slip of some sort under it and the slip that would fit under this thing just isn’t made anymore. Second of all it is white which means that if I did go out and wear it that I would most likely spill something on it right away. Thirdly it is wool and it is too hot here in summer to wear wool.

So what was I thinking when I bought this crochet monstrosity with the wooden beads hanging on a cord that suffice for a zipper on it? I was thinking somehow that I was not really me, but that I was really Sienna Miller in Alfie or Factory Girl. This was a huge mistake that cost me a lot of money.

Yet another mistake a recently made was to try and dress like Anne Hathaway in the Devil Wears Prada. I responded to watching that movie by going right out and buying a pseudo Chanel suit knock off. I also bought a Grecian style dress and silver shoes and a pair of very high waisted trousers with suspenders. Trying this stuff on in the store I thought I looked like Anna Wintour, a Greek Goddess or Diane Keaton. Once I got home I realized I looked like an asylum escapee, underdressed or an unemployed clown.

Don’t get me wrong I do have some very nice clothes in my closet that I have bought that look great on me. The problem is that I am not meeting the kind of men who will take me somewhere nice in these clothes. It is like the clothes exist to attract some man that doesn’t exist in an alternative reality.

I have some gorgeous high heels but I can’t walk on the boardwalk or along the beach in them. I can’t even dance in them if I ever did get asked to go dancing. I have some wonderful chiffon and silk dresses as well but they are just not the thing to wear when my dates want to go drinking at the nearest University pub.

So just why did I buy all these fancy clothes when it is all an illusion? I guess it is the type of illusion that gives me hope – that makes me believe I will never grow old or become divorced one day and that my own Prince Charming is coming along any minute.

 

Dating Journal
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He Needed To Tell Me He Was Living With Someone

June 27, 2007

Why do men ALWAYS lie. I am starting to think that if their lips are moving that they are lying.

A few nights ago I met a guy through my friend Donna. I love Donna. She is generous, kind and sweet and one of those people who is always building bridges of light to others. So, she has a male friend named Dima who she hasn’t seen in a while and it turns out he has a friend named John. We all meet at this party and I hit it off with this John guy right away.

Why did I like him so much. Well first off he was well off. He was a sound engineer who was studying to be a lawyer. I thought that was great and that he would be the perfect mix of culture and smarts for me. He really seemed like my type.

Another thing I liked about it is that he was really positive and affirmative and he was always including me in his future even though I just met him. He kept making plans about what we would do in the future and told me how much he was looking forward to seeing me again.

Donna, who is a bit savvy then asks this guy John what his status is. He says that he is in the middle of a divorce which is fine as we both assume that this means that he no longer lives with girl.

WRONG!

I go out on two more dates with this loser and get really, very close – tongue in the mouth and the whole thing before Boy Genius finally decides to reveal that he is still living with his ex.

How do I find this out?

Well first of all he phones me and I use my call return to leave a number on his message machine. Then the next thing that happens is that I get a call back from him sounding all disconcerted. He tells me that it is probably not a good idea for me to leave messages there as his ex, who still lives with him, picked up the message. This enraged her so much that she apparently started kicking, punching and slapping him.

Hmmm.

First of all what kind of guy stays in a house with his ex and lets her hit him in the first place. There was no way I was going to have any part of this. The thing that makes me angry is that he never told me he was not free. Can you imagine if I decided to pop in for a surprise visit one day.

To top it all off after I send him an email telling him I am not interested anymore he phones me and starts crying. What kind of baby starts crying after only knowing a woman for a few days? Then I realized that he was not crying because he “lost me” but rather that he was trying to manipulate me into staying in the relationship anyway!

Just another one to put on the list of Big Babies I have gone out with lately.

 

Dating Journal
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Never Call Him First

May 5, 2007

If there is one thing that I have learned so far in my brief few years as a serial dater it is “Never ever call him first.” This is a law of dating that should apply to single women everywhere. You call him first, you are dead in the water.

I know it sounds really old fashioned and not too feminist but unfortunately it is true. From what I can tell, relationships that start off with the woman calling the man always lead to some kind of disaster or humiliation.

This is the typical scenario. A woman meets a cute guy an in a bar. They talk for two hours straight. The woman starts thinking, “Oh, he really likes me.” Before she knows it the hours have flown by, it is Last Call and it is time to go home. He is putting on his coat, and she has either one of two options –

1. To never see him again in her life.

2. To get his number.

This is exactly how these catastrophic affairs start. You should never ask the man for his number. This is because if unless he volunteers it, you will probably always get an answering machine or even a female voice that says “Just a minute. I’ll get him.”

It is also pretty humiliating when you leave that one message and the guy never calls you back, even after weeks have passed when at the bar he was more than willing to tell you almost too much about himself.

Most of the time you get an answering machine. The worst thing you can do is leave one of those “burned” sounding messages after he hasn’t returned your message after about three weeks. The point here is that if he wanted to call, he would and that if he wanted to call he would have asked for your number in the first place.

This begs the question – why do men go on and on about themselves to complete strangers in the first place? It is because most men don’t see women as anything but soft places to lay their heads in the first place. You are a nurturer, just like his mom, and of course there is nothing you would be more grateful for then to listen to his life story.

Still most women don’t seem to realize that most men like to just ramble on about themselves with no interest in you. Like some types of alpha dogs they like the sound of their voice.

There is also the slight danger that the guy that you were talking to is one of the old-fashioned control freak types who were raised by a Michael Douglas type Dad. This type believes that the minute you ask for the number, never mind phone, that you are automatically a stalker.

If you simply make it one of your Golden Rules that you will never ask for his number then you will never be put through this kind of pain. There is a lot of peace in knowing that the guy who is calling you really does want to call and and you know this is so because he asked for YOUR number. Not the other way around.

 

Dating Journal
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