Friday, August 10, 2007

Single White Female

"Please store all emotional baggage securely in the overhead bins".

The foot has been dry long enough. The time has come to dip a toe back into the dating pool. I’ve not allowed myself a proper date in nearly a year. There's no solid juicy crush to speak of. The last really good spin was the 27-(he said)-year-old waiter who made my 41st birthday every so memorable.

I am ready to date.

I’ve had friends tell me (all married, btw) that one must approach serious dating as you would a business plan. Set the goal.

First, find the men. The single, straight, eligible men. Given I work from home, my daily aerobics class is 99.5% women and we live in the digital age, I turn to the internet. Now, I’m a strong believer in the physical. Not what a person looks like, so much, but the tilt of the head, the walk, the stance. I once fell madly from the way he held the salt shaker. I may struggle with the see me, hear me, rather than touch me aspect of online introductions.

Second, post a profile. Extol all you are and all you seek in a thousand words or so. Gosh this is sounding sillier by the minute.... How about the basics:

I don’t want to get married.
I don’t think I want kids.
I’m not sure I want any part of raising yours.
I want funny, a little sensitive, good for a tussle now and then.
I want the good boom. The really good, adventurous boom.

I’m nervous and fear I may fail. As an independent, successful, often goofy, sometimes immature, at times introspective and dark, always ready for a cocktail woman, do I want (or need) the same thing a man in his late 30’s or 40’s seeks?

Will keep you posted. And hey, if you know anyone...

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

Is that a monkey in your ponytail or are you just happy to see me?

Dateline New York: On a commercial flight from Fort Lauderdale to New York, a passenger traveling from Lima, Peru stowed an odd carry-on, a small monkey, in a ponytail under his hat. Police and airline representatives met the travel companions at the gate and man and monkey were turned over to appropriate officials.

And I can't get cuticle scissors on a flight.

Friday, August 3, 2007

Boy, this pisses me off

A recent research paper "When Can Angry Women Get Ahead?" explores the disadvantage to women of expressed anger in the workplace. Not bringing an UZI to the office type of psychotic anger, which we all agree is beneficial to no one, but the common outburst, your dismay at poor performance or vocalization of a strong feeling. Men, when given to emotional outbursts, were viewed as passionate, women as bitches and, worse yet, less competent and “out of control”.

On the flip side, however, it is more forgivable for a woman than a man to cry at work. Women, as nurturers, are more easily forgiven this type of release; men forever labled as soft and unstable. Interesting how even something as basic as human emotions and the workplace are divided by sex.

Given that ten years after college graduation, educated women earn almost 30 percent less than men, can you blame us for the occasional cranky?

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