Are Relationships Disposable?

Shanna Moakler and her Divorce Party Cake

If you live in Florida, getting out of your marriage just got one step (or should I say leap?) easier: you can file for divorce online.

That's right, enter your name, some details, and poof the divorce process is commenced and your marriage is on the way out like the coat from three seasons ago you decided to sell on ebay.

Why offer this type of service? Broward county court clerk Kris Mazzeo says, "the new service will save residents hours of hassle."

But the question is, shouldn't getting a divorce be a hassle? Shouldn't ending a lifetime commitment be difficult? If you can end your relationship with barely a click of a mouse, perhaps marriage is truly something that has become disposable.

The picture above seems to tell it all - upon filing for her quickie divorce, Shanna Moakler threw herself a divorce party, complete with a cake! If divorce is something to celebrate, what does that say about our culture's understanding of the sanctity of marriage?

Perhaps it is our failure to honor the sanctity of marriage that has led to the scarcity of a successful one?


For more information about filing for divorce online in Broward county,
http://www.sun-sentinel.com/news/local/broward/sfl-flbclerk1112nbnov12,0,3701326.story

I Wanna Get Married?

Driving to school this morning, I was listening to a CD my girlfriend made for me a few years ago, which includes the track "I Wanna Get Married" by Nellie McKay. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Nellie McKay, she is a singer-songwriter from England who used to be a standup comedian. Her music is incredibly eclectic, a mix of Jazz, rap, blues and rock, and her lyrics are very unique.

"I Wanna Get Married" is a lush, slow ballad that sounds like it comes from a different era than the one we are in. It is enchanting. Listening to it I find myself mesmerized. And mesmerized, I find myself singing along, agreeing with the lyrics of the song. (see lyrics below)

And just like that, it brainwashed me! The song, an ode to marriage, is meant to be completely sarcastic. If you listen to any of Nellie McKay's other songs, you know that the last thing she is interested in is being housewife.

And me, independent, educated me, should have laughed at the song, instead of being mesmerized by it.

That being said, why is the classic marriage model at times so intoxicating? We've been taught, as modern women, to find it antiquated and limiting, and yet, listening to this song, it really didn't sound so bad... in fact, it was a life I could easily envision for myself. Nonetheless, part of me felt really guilty for even contemplating wanting the kind of life the song describes. I want to have a career, I want to have the kind of life our feminist predecessors fought for - one where I am an equal to my husband, rather than his domestic servant.

When we have every opportunity to evolve, why are our fantasy marriages at times stuck in the 1950's? Is it possible that aspects of the old marriage model are better than the new one, where we are expected to work work work while raising the kids and building a home?

"I Wanna Get Married" by Nellie McKay

I wanna get married

Yes, I need a spouse

I want a nice

Leave it to Beaverish

Golden retriever and a little white house

I wanna get married

I need to cook meals
I wanna pack you cute little lunches

For my Brady bunches

Then read Danielle Steele

I wanna escape

This rat race I've created

I'm feelin' enervated

I don't care if I make it

I just want to bake a sugar cake for you

To take to work in the morn

And I'll stay home cleaning the dishes

And keeping your wishes all warm
I wanna get married

That's why I was born

I wanna partake in bake sales for the classroom

I wanna hear the sweet tune

Of Sally's little vroom-vroom

As she zooms around my broom

As I exhume the gloom

Of my shallow life

I wanna be simple and honest and dimpled 'cause I am your wife

I will never tarry

I'm not even torn

I wanna get married

That's why I was born

The Grass Is Always Greener? (Or is it?)

Today I was chatting online with a male friend of mine, let's call him Joe. I had seen him chatting up some ladies, and I asked him if anything came out of it... Here is some of our convo:

SexyJelly: you can't assume they aren't interested, you just have to feel it out

Joe: yeah, the question is how interested am i

SexyJelly: true

SexyJelly: of course

Joe: i have set a high bar, and maybe its too high, i have to adjust, cuz i let totaly good girls go by

SexyJelly: you are allowed to have high standards

SexyJelly: you should
Joe: but are they realistic?

Joe: i mean if no one seems to be meeting them is that good too?

This conversation seems to indicate a truth that sometimes evades us: we are in fact on a level playing field with the opposite sex. Although I always think, there are so many good girls, there are no good boys, the boys oftentimes espouse the same sentiment.

Tracy Chapman said it best when she asked in her song entitled "Why",

"Why when there's so many of us are there people still alone?" And this chat goes towards at least one answer to that very complex question: unreasonable expectations.

So the question is, if we are all plagued with the same fears and unreasonable expectations, why is it so hard for us to put them aside and make meaningful connections with the opposite sex?

If the grass isn't in fact greener, maybe it is time for us to put down our (de)fenses?

Home is where the heart is?

I'm sure many of you have heard the expression, "A fish and a bird could fall in love, but where would they live?" I always took this to mean that for a relationship to work, you should end up with someone pretty much like yourself, whether that means someone who is from the same religion or culture, or someone with the same interests or values.

Well, it seems that evolution has thrown this theory a curve ball: scientists have discovered a fish that can survive for months in a tree.

It seems that a more relevant expression is, "where there is a will there's a way." If you love your man, maybe sometimes home really is where the heart is - and not what social constructs tell you it should be, whether that be in the ocean or in a tree.

For the article about the norm-defying mangrove killifish:

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/pages/live/articles/news/news.html?in_article_id=488193&in_page_id=1770

We don't have to do it all at once: Letters to my younger self

We don't always have the wisdom we require at the time we need it. We struggle. We worry. Often, only later do our choices make sense to us. If you had to write a letter to yourself in 10 years addressing who you are today... what do you think you would have to say? It's good to hear it from people who have lived a long extraordinarily successful life... it gives great perspective.

I recently read a book, a compilation of letters that dozens of extraordinary women have wrote. The title of the book: "What I Know Now: Letters to my Younger Self." I have not yet read every single letter... but wanted to share a great one:

Dear Cokie,

Is this a life sentence? Will you spend the rest of your life with jelly stains on your knees? Will your kids ever sleep through the night?

Being a mother of two kids frazzles you because the utterly banal is, somehow, profoundly important. Nothing could be more mindless than wiping noses and pouring apple juice - yet you know there's no bigger job. For so much to hinge on so little is brain-numbing. It's as if world peace depended on how well you dust your living room. Worse, you were never any good at homemaking arts, apart from cooking. Now you're supposed to put toys away and clean out the tub as if your children's entire future success hangs in the balance?

This kind of absurd mismatch between day-to-day motherhood and the emotional charge it carries can be a little scary. Your kids, like all kids, are a pain in the neck sometimes. As a regular person in your regular life, you really don't get angry. But as a mother, you're shocked at your capacity for anger with your children. Instead of childish misbehavior, their transgressions seem like terrible reflections on you as a mother.

Here's my advice about the anger, chaos, and isolation. First, beware the dangers of extrapolation in motherhood. Despite his impressive tantrums, your willful son will not throw himself on the floor of grocery stores, screaming for candy, when he's grown up. Just because your daughter can't seem to stop talking now doesn't means she won't ever. Also, understand that this won't last forever. Don't feel oppressed by it. These are very short years in the scheme of life and you will live through them.

You're trying to fit everything in at once, working for a TV station and a magazine. But Cokie, you'll be in the workplace for fifty years, literally. There's no need to be doing it all at once. At times you do have to, but there are times when you don't. You can leave the work world - and come back on your own terms.

One more thing: There will be compensation! Your children will grow up to be charming and caring people - who will produce adorable grandchildren. Your willful son will someday have an extremely willful daughter. One of your daughter's sons will talk incessantly. And guess who will have patience for all of that and more? You.

Hang in there.

Love,

Cokie

Cokie Roberts -- Columnist and Commentator

Love Addiction?

The sleeplessness, the rollercoaster of emotions, the cold sweats, the racing thoughts... cocaine addition? Oxycontin? Not so much. I'm talking about love addiction my friends, and some researchers believe it is clinical.

Helen E. Fisher, Ph.D., a professor of anthropology at Rutgers University and author of "Why We Love: The Nature and Chemistry of Romantic Love," has stated that when researching the brain waves of a group of patients looking at romantic pictures, the areas of the brain that lit up were the same as those that corresponded to drug addiction. She has said, "When I first started looking at the properties of infatuation, they had some of the same elements of a cocaine high: sleeplessness, loss of a sense of time, absolute focus on love to the detriment of all around you," Fisher said of her research when interviewed by Psychology Today magazine. "Infatuation can overtake the rational parts of your brain."

And viola ladies - we are off the hook. All those lingering emotions we feel when a relationship ends aren't symbolic of some emotional shortcoming - it is clinical love addiction!

Although this may comfort some, as an independent, proactive, self-reliant woman, this doesn't really help me feel any better. Rather than buying into the hype, and giving yourself an excuse to wallow in your love addiction ("it's not my fault, it's my brain!"), try hard to think about why the relationship ended, and why you are better off without him.

When addiction knocks, knock it the eff out. The last thing you need is the ghost of relationships past to haunt you. Especially since there is no such thing as love methadone.

Robolove?

According to artificial intelligence researcher, David Levy, by 2050 humans will be having sex and marriage with robots. Oh yeah, the sex he says will probably happen a hell of a lot sooner (he predicts within five years).

And this is what it has come to ladies. Researchers truly believe that even love is something that they can get a robot to emulate. A perfect Roboboyfriend? Maybe even a Robohusband? With divorce rates soaring, perhaps a programmable mate is the solution to all our problems.

Or is it?

We've all heard the expression, "To err is human," and reading this article made me so appreciate the inherent flaws in every human relationship. I will take a flawed, fluid, man over a perfect mechanical mate any day.

Robo, no no.

The cause of all my false expectations regarding marriage: MASH

Today a friend sent me a link to this website, http://www.playmash.com/, where you can play MASH online. Remember MASH (Mansion, Apartment, Shack, House) from when we were little girls? All we had to do was pick some men, pick some cars, places to live, and the color for our wedding dresses and then poof, fate (in the form of picking a random number) would decide your entire future. There was no arguing, no evaluating, no nothing: the only control we had was over who and what we picked to be in the game.

If only it were that simple in life.

Even with the most careful planning, even the most ideal MASH result (A George Clooney, a mansion, 3 kids, and two luxury vehicles) life has a way of adding in all these unforeseeable technicalities that can turn your perfect MASH result into a pile of MUSH.

When we're raised to consider only the broadest categories in planning out our ideal futures, how can we be expected to deal with all the random contingencies that the game doesn't provide for?

As members of the MASH generation, how can we train ourselves to think outside the box?

Wishful Thinking?

Elizabeth Gilbert writes, in her non-fiction novel Eat, Pray, Love (which I high recommend), " I have a history of making decisions very quickly about men. I have always fallen in love fast and without measuring risks. I have a tendency not only to see the best in everyone, but to assume that everyone is emotionally capable of reaching his highest potential. I have fallen in love more times than I care to count with the highest potential of a man, rather than with the man himself, and then I have hung on to the relationship for a long time (sometimes far too long) waiting for the man to ascend to his own greatness. Many times in romance I have been a victim of my own optimism."

There is a saying that behind every man there is a great woman. Is it wishful thinking to believe that your man will reach his highest potential? Isn't that what woman are there for? To support their family and husband into reaching their potentials in life? Not just men, but even friend to friend (girlfriend to girlfriend)...

How can you distinguish your voice of reality from wishful thinking? How can you tell what is reachable and what just isn't going to happen?

Patience is my #1 virtue

The events in my life the past couple months have led me back again and again to the fact that I must learn how to become patient. I have to learn today, not tomorrow, not later when I am older... but right now, this second. I all of a sudden feel in my bones, that if I don't learn how to get rid of my impatience I might just become an inpatient.

I go through a lot of my days gasping -- for results, for contact with a person that hasn't called, for answers to the future, always waiting.... waiting.... waiting. INSTEAD OF LIVING, ENJOYING & PARTICIPATING.

Recently, I emailed a friend while I was in the car: I'm going NUTSS inside, Google for me HOW to be patient. (Again another example of impatience -- emailing while driving) HELLO, we all know that's not a smart thing to do. So any way, she emailed me back a wikihow article on "How to Be Patient." This was the best article I have read in a long time.

Some key points:

*Become more patient and life becomes more enjoyable: your relationships with other people may become more rewarding, your job may become less stressful, and even the hardest times in your life can become more bearable.

*Being patient with others is a form of respect for them. Nobody is perfect, and if you want to be a good parent, boss, spouse, or friend, it's important to recognize this and to be patient with people.

*Patience can reduce your stress levels and improve your health and longevity, and patience can actually make you happier. Whenever you find yourself growing impatient, think about the positive effects of patience, and remember that impatience only makes things worse.


And last and most importantly....
*It's important to be able to deal with things that bring us impatience, but once you are able to change your attitude so that you are a patient person, you will find that patience can help you endure any tribulation, no matter how long-lasting or difficult. More importantly, perhaps, patience can help you achieve your goals. Almost anything really good in life takes time and dedication, and if you're impatient, you're more likely to give up on relationships, goals, and other things that are important to you. Good things may not always come to those who wait, but most good things that do come don't come right away.

Comical part of the article: "WARNING: Patience should be no excuse for procrastination. While patience can help you be OK with doing nothing, it's important to understand that idleness breeds impatience and stress. "

A Dream Guy Deferred?

Salvador Dalí. Dream Caused by the Flight of a Bee around a Pomegranate. One Second before Awakening.

Langston Hughes brought up a very important question when he asked, "What happens to a dream deferred?" His poem answers the question with a series of hypotheses:

"What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore-- And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over-- like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?"

In my experience, sometimes a dream that has not been realized gets well, deferred to your dreams. Even now that I'm in this great relationship, there are times that I wake up only to realize that I was dreaming about someone from the past, in my case, one person in particular, who I never got the chance to be with.

The question is, does his presence in my dream symbolize unresolved feelings? Is it possible that this "dream guy deferred" is still haunting me?

When your dreams are stuck in the past, how is it possible to wake up completely in the present?

Ele-flaws?

In every relationship, there are things your man does that drive you mad. It could be small things, like annoying habits (i.e. driving too fast, being kind of a slob, not calling enough) to big things (communication problems, fear of commitment...). The truth is, for most women, we are more than willing to discuss these things in an effort to make the man and relationship, well, better. Unfortunately, men are not always so open to change. Constantly asking your man to change his habits will be interpreted as nagging and could really put a strain on your relationship.

The question is, where do you draw the line? Of course, there are definitely times when it is better to bite your tongue and deal, but sometimes unless you bring up your concerns, the relationship will slowly deteriorate.

When you recognize something you'd like your man to change, when should you point out the elephant in the room and when should you learn to quietly accept it?

Truth or Dare?

The other evening, amidst a moment of emotional weakness (yes, I was pondering the ex), I decided to go back and re-read some old diary entries. And good thing I did. The old adage still rings true: the truth shall set you free. And in this case, the truth was contained in a few eloquently drafted diary entries from last year. These entries reminded me yet again why I ended my last relationship. I did in fact do it for the right reasons. I needed that, a burst of truth, because with time, the fog of nostalgia had engulfed my memory and only allowed me to remember the good things. You can imagine how problematic this can be as it can easily lead to unwarranted doubt and regret.

I really like this quote by Georges Braque: "Truth exists. Only lies are invented." Sometimes, it is our mind that invests the lie. Sometimes it is easier to lie to yourself and forget, than to remember the pain of relationships past. Regardless of the lies I tell myself sometimes, the truth of the relationship exists, and luckily I have my diary to remind me of it.

So in short, when your mind lies and dares you to reminisce, be strong and seek out the truth - it will free you from the fog.

Through the Looking Glass

"And since you know you cannot see yourself, so well as by reflection, I, your glass, will modestly discover to yourself, that of yourself which you yet know not of."

William Shakespeare

When it comes to falling in love, who should foot the bill?

I've been pondering this one for a long time but always refrained from posting about it... Today, browsing on Gawker.com, it seems someone beat me to the punch.

The question is, in a world where women are perpetually trying to even out the playing field and be respected as equals rather than second-class citizens to their male counterparts, why do we as women, still expect men to pay for our dates?

I've posted the text of the article I found below... I'd love to know your thoughts:

http://gawker.com/news/gender-norms-and-the-city/why-do-otherwise-normal-girls-refuse-to-go-dutch-304569.php

Why do otherwise normal girls refuse to go dutch?

Last night I almost made a gossip columnist drop her drink in horror with a single sentence. Luckily we were on the roof of 60 Thompson, which is such a classy establishment that the drinks are served in plastic tumblers, so no harm would've been done, but my gossipy friend's gasp drew the attention of another woman in our group, who asked me to repeat the shocking thing I'd said. She, too, did a double-take. "You let a man allow you to pay for your own dinner on the first date, and you're seeing him again?" I nodded. One of 60 Thompson's insanely bitchy waitresses stopped in her tracks as she overheard, almost dashing a tray of plastic-sheathed vodka tonics to the flagstones. What was going on here?

"I just ... I went for my wallet, and he didn't stop me. I didn't mind! I like paying for myself," I told the gossip columnist and the publicist.

"That's so rude. That's like not letting a girl get out of the elevator first," a Maxim staffer not exactly known for his chivalry chimed in.

"If a guy doesn't pay on the first date, you are establishing a dangerous precedent, " the gossipeuse continued. "If a guy tries that move on me, I just tell him, 'You know what? I've got this. I can write you off.'" She paused to smirk at her own joke. "I've used that line so many times."

On my way home, I had to wonder. Ha, sorry, but I DID HAVE TO WONDER. What time capsule are these women living in? Why on earth would you want to feel beholden to a dude for any reason? Sure, free things are nice, but not when they come wrapped in cultural assumptions that men are the wage earners and women are their cosseted pets. What the fuck makes women feel like being asked to pay their own way is an insult?

Today, still wondering, I asked a dating expert if she'd ever been asked to go Dutch. "In the entire history of my life, there was one guy who demanded we go dutch. I was so fucking mad, I wanted to cut off his balls. I'm STILL angry about it. And it was three years ago. I'm not even kidding, I thought about it two or three days ago when I got an invite to his book party, and I thought "THAT FUCKING MOTHERFUCKER MADE ME PUT DOWN A TWENTY WHEN HE WAS THE ONE WHO GOT AN ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGE!"

Okay, so we know what side she's on. But, um, why? Why are men supposed to pay for us again? "Um, because we have to wear high heels and push up bras and control top panty hose and makeup and belts/jeans/dresses which cut off our circulation and we have to change the ways in which we're uncomfortable every season and ON TOP OF THAT we get to pay a fuckload of money for the privilege???"

Ah, the old 'reparations' theory. And the counterargument, of course, is: we don't actually have to do any of that stuff. I mean, no one's telling us to. Except, you know, prevailing cultural norms that, in spite of a lot of people's best efforts, don't really seem to be going anywhere.
But we can still try to fix the system, one not-free entree at a time! Or, you know, we can go to the bathroom right before the check comes next time and see if that enables us to dodge the issue

Is Chivalry Dead?

So tonight I had dinner with a friend. This friend at first glance seems like the least graceful guy you could ever meet... You'd think the only rules he has down pat are those necessary to play beer pong and tackle football. And yet, when we got to a door, he opened it, when we ordered our food, he carried it, and all and all, he was (albeit some serious social awkwardness) the perfect gentleman.

Who would have known?

Lately I've been thinking about chivalry. I expect the man to well, be the man. To open car doors, house doors, apartment doors, shopping center doors, restaurant doors, and basically any other doors we may encounter.

And so I wonder, is chivalry something all men are aware of, and some just choose to disregard, or are some just clueless?

And if a man is not inherently chivalrous, can you change him from a frog into a prince?

Or will he just be acting chivalrous to get what he wants (you) and eventually get bored and return to his old, non-prince charming self?

Easter Bunny? Religious Hunny?

So, it has become increasingly obvious to me that meeting "the one" is as much about finding someone who lines up with your values and your goals as it is about finding the love of your life. Because even if you have all the love in the world, if he doesn't want kids and you do, or if you believe in diamonds (big ones) and he doesn't, then you're going to start moving in opposite directions, and fast.

One of the biggest issues I've realized we face when trying to determine if someone is "the one" is whether or not they match up with you spiritually. At some point, long ago, I thought that if you at least meet someone who is the same religion as you, then the spiritual connection requirement would be met.

Alas, this has proven not to be the case.

In a world filled with several types of Christians, and varying types of Jews, not to mention people who chose to craft their own religions by mixing up the ones they like, finding someone who is perfectly in tune with your spiritual goals seems well, as hard as finding a big five karat ring in a haystack.

Which leads me to my question, when trying to find your match, how much of your spiritual goals should you relinquish and how much of theirs should you adopt in trying to reach a middle ground?

I'm not religious at all and I often worry that finding someone who will be the right religion yet will support my laissez-faire religious attitude may prove to be a difficult task... Will I be able to find someone that is just right without having to give up or take on too much?

When trying to meet Mr. Right (i.e. a man who is on your exact spiritual wavelength), do you have a better chance of running into the Easter Bunny?

Confession: I Enjoy Panda Express

“The devil has put a penalty on all things we enjoy in life. Either we suffer in health or we suffer in soul or we get fat.”Albert Einstein

If only I could convince myself to enjoy salad as much as I do orange chicken, perhaps I could refute old Albert... Unfortunately, as it stands, I have a better chance of refuting e = mc2...

A Prize for Conception? Sign me up.

Want to scare your boyfriend into using protection? Just tell him that in Russia, you could win a car for getting pregnant...

Russian province gets set for 'Conception Day'

A Russian province is readying for "Family Contact" day -- unofficially being called "Conception Day" -- in an effort to boost flagging birth rates, officials said on Monday.

The special day for encouraging procreation was dreamt up by the governor of Ulyanovsk province, Sergei Morozov, who this year awarded prizes ranging from a television to a Russian-made all-terrain vehicle for giving birth on Russia's Constitution Day on June 12.

President Vladimir Putin has made fixing Russia's ongoing population slump a national priority.
This Wednesday's event is timed precisely nine months ahead of next year's Constitution Day so that mothers "ideally should give birth on June 12," said a spokeswoman for the administration, speaking by telephone to AFP.

A series of concerts and exhibitions are being organised to promote family values and employers are being encouraged to grant a discretionary day off, said the spokeswoman.

"The purpose is to improve the demographic situation and support family values," she said, adding that a four-year programme of building and improving kindergartens was under way to support families.

On Monday, the independent national paper Novye Izvestiya reported that local people had taken to referring to Wednesday as "Conception Day," although it also noted some dissent.
"We've already sunk to the level where the governor is ordering us on what day to conceive a child and on what day to give birth," the paper quoted local human rights activist Alexander Bragin as saying.

The administration spokeswoman said that next year's prizes for giving birth on Constitution Day had not yet been decided but underlined that "there definitely will be prizes."

The tradition of awarding prizes for giving birth dates back to Soviet times, when women could be named "Hero Mothers" for having especially large families.

The city of Ulyanovsk, previously Simbirsk, located 900 kilometres (560 miles) east of Moscow has a special place in national mythology as it was named after the founder of the Soviet Union, Vladimir Lenin, whose real surname was Ulyanov.

Tutti Fruitty Drunk and Skinny?

Ladies, the verdict is in: Fruity cocktails count as health food. Praise the Lord Hallelujah.

WASHINGTON (Reuters) - A fruity cocktail may not only be fun to drink but may count as health food, U.S. and Thai researchers said on Thursday.

Adding ethanol -- the type of alcohol found in rum, vodka, tequila and other spirits -- boosted the antioxidant nutrients in strawberries and blackberries, the researchers found.

Any colored fruit might be made even more healthful with the addition of a splash of alcohol, they report in the Journal of the Science of Food and Agriculture.

Dr. Korakot Chanjirakul and colleagues at Kasetsart University in Thailand and scientists at the U.S. Department of Agriculture stumbled upon their finding unexpectedly.

They were exploring ways to help keep strawberries fresh during storage. Treating the berries with alcohol increased in antioxidant capacity and free radical scavenging activity, they found.
Any colored fruit or vegetable is rich in antioxidants, which are chemicals that can cancel out the cell-damaging effects of compounds called free radicals.

Berries, for instance, contain compounds known as polyphenols and anthocyanins. People who eat more of these fruits and vegetables have a documented lower risk of cancer, heart disease and some neurological diseases.

The study did not address whether adding a little cocktail umbrella enhanced the effects.

Trash the Dress!

Ladies, when the "big day" finally comes (and for all of us it will soon enough) here's something you might consider doing: trash your wedding dress.

Here's an excerpt from the website, Trash the Dress, http://trashthedress.wordpress.com/:

"Go ahead, you know you want to. Trash it. Get it dirty. Get it wet. Roll around in the mud. Drench it in the ocean. Totally trash it.

Why? … Why not? You’ve made a commitment to your husband. He’s your one and only true love, right? Then you’ll never need the dress again. And no, your daughter won’t wear it in 20-30 years. So you have two choices:

1) Suffocate it in plastic and throw it in a closet

2) Show your husband how committed you are by trashing the dress, and get some great fun pictures while you do it!

Then after you do it- send the pictures to us to publish for all the world to see. What are you waiting on? Call one of the trusted photographers on this page or find one you trust and go trash the dress!"

***Burning it while you are wearing it might not be the safest option... despite what this picture suggests, do not try this method of trashing your dress at home :)

The Truth About Sex

In America sex is an obsession, in other parts of the world it is a fact.

Marlene Dietrich (1901 - 1992)

The Secret Life of SJ

This past weekend, Mr. Neighbor and I went camping. And this past weekend, Mr. Neighbor and I realized that we are falling in love.

And therefore I have a problem: I feel too guilty to continue blogging about us.

A few posts ago, one reader aptly pointed out that the real question I should be asking is, what happens when Mr. Neighbor finds out about the blog?

The truth is, I feel too guilty to ever let that happen. I don't know quite how he would react, but I don't think any man would appreciate knowing his girlfriend anonymously blogs about the details of his relationship on the Internet.

And despite the fact that I mask my true identity, anyone who were to read between the lines could quickly put together the pieces. Which is completely unfair to Mr. Neighbor.

So, what does this mean for No Man Land? To be honest, writing this blog is one of my favorite things in life. So, rather than take a hiatus, I would like to broaden it a little and continue to write about general topics facing those who have at one time or another suffered from LMS, as I did until meeting Mr. Neighbor.

Please feel free to post any topics you are facing that you need feedback on - as the last few posts have shown, sometimes some really great revelations come through group discussion.

So, for now, I'm going to have to keep my life a bit more secret because the last thing I'd want is for No Man Land, the cure to my LMS, to become the reason my relationship disintegrates.

(Heart)String Theory

So, in physics, there is this concept known as "string theory." String theory holds that all matter and energy are connected by tiny vibrating strings. I've always liked this idea, although it has remained to be proven or completely embraced by the scientific community.

If everything is connected by strings, let's just say last night Mr. Neighbor and I added an additional one between us: one called open communication.

As I was sitting at dinner last night complaining to my two best girlfriends that Mr. Neighbor doesn't call me, I got a text message from him asking me if I wanted to stop by on my way home. When I replied that I would, he text back, "I look forward to kissing you." Super cute right?

When I got to his place, Mr. Neighbor was really happy to see me. And as we sat on the couch catching up, I braced myself and brought up the phone call issue. I told him that it was important to me, in a completely nonthreatening and relaxed way, that he call me more often. And thankfully, he agreed without getting defensive or upset.

And you know what, I instantly felt better and closer to him than ever. We've made plans to go camping this weekend. I'm so happy that before we spend the weekend together, I got my concerns off my chest, rather than remaining passive aggressive about the situation.

Ladies in the end, this much I remember from high school physics and mathematics: The shortest distance between point A and point B is a straight line - in other words, be straight with your man. If you're upset about something, just let him know.

Create the open line of communication which will lead to additional strings connecting you together, from his heart to yours.

Phone Lines Down?

Everything with Mr. Neighbor is going great. We see each other 3-4 times a week, he's affectionate, we have fun, blah blah blah.

Here is my issue (since by the tone of this post so far, I'm sure you've all realized there is one): Mr. Neighbor NEVER calls me. He will text, he will e-mail, but he just doesn't call. In fact, there are days where I don't even talk to him. Case in point: Yesterday.

Yesterday was my first day of school... The day started off well enough, since Mr. Neighbor text me, "Have a great first day darling!" We also sent a few emails back and forth during the day, mostly notifying each other about upcoming events.

But as the night approached (and passed) the lines of communication between us apparently went down. My phone didn't ring once. And unfortunately, I wasn't surprised. Mr. Neighbor doesn't like to make small talk on the phone. I know that. But can I live with that?

Now I know, some men just aren't phone people, but honestly, I've never had a boyfriend before that I couldn't count on calling me everyday to at least see how I'm doing.

The question is, when your man doesn't call you, do you call him out on it, or just accept things the way they are?

[I need help with this asap - please post your comments]

Looking Hot (Is the Best Revenge)

So last night I had an inkling that I might run into someone that I had hooked up with a few months ago...

And I decided, hell, even though I have a hot boyfriend, it never hurts to remind an old flame what he is missing.

And so, here is my formula for red hot revenge:

1. Get a tan

2. Wear all white
3. Have a great time with your girls and don't pay him ANY attention

Done. Done. and Done. And ladies, from a distance, I saw him watching me throughout the night, and that felt fantastic. And that was enough.

So next time you run into an old flame, remind him that YOU were the heat in the relationship, and when you left you ONLY got hotter.

Destroy the Silence?

Tonight, laying in bed with Mr. Neighbor, after the steamiest most passionate make out session ever, we lay tangled in each other, his hands cupping my face, our eyes closed, both on such a high.

And I, my mind racing, my heart beating tempestously, managed to destroy the sweet silence by making a statement that included the word "dump." I kid you not.

Rather than enjoying the resulting silence, after sharing such an exhilirating experience, I said the first thing that came to my post-orgasmic braindead state. Dump. Oh my god. I was mortified.

What is it about that level of intimacy that is so hard to embrace? Why could I embrace him physically and yet not emotionally succumb to the moment we were sharing? Why couldn't I just listen to Depeche Mode's wise words and "enjoy the silence" rather than destroying it?

The lyrics, just in case some aren't familiar with this brilliant and highly relevant song:

"Words like violence

Break the silence

Come crashing in

Into my little world

Painful to me

Pierce right through me

Can't you understand

Oh my little girl

All I ever wanted

All I ever needed

Is here in my arms

Words are very unnecessary

They can only harm"

When Soulships Collide

The night Mr. Neighbor asked me to be his girlfriend, now almost two weeks ago, he compared us to two ships passing in the night... Many of you I´m sure have heard this reference before. And it is true. We could just as easily have missed each other. And yet, we didn´t. We collided. And the impact he has had on my life, in these few short weeks, has been tremendous.

Even here in Mexico, I´ve found myself drawn to my more adventurous inclinations... and all the while I´ve felt Mr. Neighbor´s appreciation of that, even from a distance.

Being away from each other the past week has been a great test. We´ve kept in touch with little updates via email and text. Mr. Neighbor misses me and that is a delicious feeling. I guess the old adage is true, absence does in fact make the heart grow fonder.

Just for culture´s sake, here is the text by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, who first coined the famous phrase - ships passing in the night.

Ships that pass in the night and speak each other in passing;

Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness;

So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another,

Only a look and a voice; then darkness again and a silence.

-Tales of a Wayside Inn. Part iii. The Theologian’s Tale: Elizabeth. iv.

I´m glad Mr. Neighbor and I found each other and didnt just pass each other by... He may turn out to be just the dock this wandering soulship has been looking for.

hola from mexico...

hello ladies... i´m writing from my hotel in playa del carmen mexico, where i will be relaxing for the rest of the week... please excuse the lack of punctuation, i haven´t quite figured out the keyboards here.

just for your amusement, looks like perez hilton has been stealing images from no man land... does the picture of miss piggy above look familiar? if not, click on this.

Lost (and Found) At Sea With Mr. Neighbor

On Sunday, I was reminded yet again why I love dating Mr. Neighbor so much: he has completely opened me up and made my world bigger and better. After taking a bike ride, we decided to go to the beach for my first surf lesson. Unfortunately, when we got there, there were no waves.

Rather than be dissuaded, Mr. Neighbor quickly came up with a plan B: "Let's kayak!" he proclaimed. And I readily agreed.

You have to understand that for me, agreeing to kayaking on the ocean at a moment's notice is just something that before Mr. Neighbor I just would not do. I am usually the lay on the beach, with SPF 4 slathered on, listening to my ipod, kind of beach person. Not the run in the water and ignore the fact that it is freezing type to jump in a kayak.

But with Mr. Neighbor, I just get inspired to be more adventurous. I love that he brings that out of me.

Sitting in the middle of the ocean in the kayak, with Mr. Neighbor cuddled up behind me, I realized that in that moment, I had everything I needed. Mr. Neighbor, the ocean, the sun, and a cool breeze. He makes me life seem so easy, so fresh, so new. I feel like with him I have lost the old, timid, one toe in the water before jumping in little girl I was, and found this new, spontaneous, dive in head first woman I am instead.

Everyone always asks, if you had to be stranded on a desert island, who would it be with?

I'm starting to realize that Mr. Neighbor would be the perfect choice... He brings a little piece of paradise to my busy city life. Maybe Mr. Neighbor is my island... because I really wouldn't mind being stranded on him ;)

The Ex-Factor

The past few days I've noticed that something has been decidedly missing from my life for the past few months. And Saturday night I remembered what it is: any kind of contact with my ex.

Usually, I could count on bumping into him, or getting an e-mail from him... but I honestly hadn't seen or heard from him since May. Basically, the whole summer passed without any form of communication between us.

For me, this meant a few things: closure, peace of mind, and a new, hot boyfriend.

For him, as I realized Saturday night, this meant one thing: nothing has changed.

Saturday night I bumped into my ex at a party. He was incredibly warm, couldn't take his eyes off me, insisted on getting me a drink, and desperately tried to get out of me what I feared he already knew: that I was seeing someone new.

It was a completely surreal experience. There is such a gap between how we feel - I am so content with us being apart and he still has so many lingering emotions. I didn't know what to say or do... which leads me to my question:

What's the appropriate way to handle an ex-counter?

Nessuna Vacanza

Yesterday was my last day of work at the law firm I've been working for this summer.... And coincidentally, it was the new attorney's first day. Young, handsome enough, and wearing a really nice Hugo Boss suit, he peaked my attention, but being that I'm lost in boyfriendland, I didn't give him too much thought...

After work, we all went out for drinks to celebrate my last day, and he and I, let's call him Attorney Italiano got into a pretty lengthy conversation. Turns out we have a lot in common - a love of music, literature and the arts, not to mention the law, and Italy.

Last night, when I was with the boyfriend, I get the following e-mail, with the subject line "Ciao Cara" from il Attorney Italiano:

"I really enjoyed meeting and speaking with you today. And despite the inherent awkwardness and brevity of this e-mail, I would really like to take you out at least once before you to go Mexico. Let me know what you think."

And of course I've declined, because that is the right and only thing to do.... but, my question is:

When you're in a relationship, how do you give off the vibe to other men that clearly says no vacancy? Did I somehow inadvertently send out the message that I am open for business?

Won't You Be, Mine (Neighbor?)

On Friday night, Mr. Neighbor came over and cooked me dinner.

And as we sat outside, in the candlelight and moonlight, he asked me to be his girlfriend.

Ladies, Mr. Neighbor is officially My Boyfriend.

Maintain the Space Between

"But let there be spaces in your togetherness and let the winds of the heavens dance between you. Love one another but make not a bond of love: let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls."

Kahlil Gibran

Wise words from a wise man. In so many relationships, I've found myself attempting to prove that when you're in love, one plus one should equal one. In reality, as I've been experiencing with Mr. Neighbor, a little bit of space goes a long way. Rather than being obsessive and calling him every day, I make sure to leave a little bit of space between us... just enough to let him pull forward towards me.

Which leads me to another rule:

No Man Land Rule: A little space goes a LONG way. Maintain your independence and therefore maintain your man.

How To Bake the Perfect Man

So, a few posts ago I shied away from my usual affinity for prose and posted you all a poem. I said I'd post some details, and here they are.

Mr. Neighbor gives me hope. Ever since we've been dating, I've been happy. Calm, collected, and overall at peace. I guess having a pseudo boyfriend within a 100 feet of your bedroom window will do that to you.

He is everything that my last boyfriend was lacking - and ladies, that just proves that sometimes you do in fact get what you ask for.

So, I've decided that this indicates the need for another No Man Land Rule:

Ask, and ye shall receive.

Towards the end of my last relationship, I started to realize all the things that I needed from a life partner. And unfortunately, my ex didn't possess them all. However, the reward that comes from the wrong relationship is the self-awareness necessary to discover what constitutes the right relationship - with the right man.

I made a list of the qualities I needed - and poof - Mr. Neighbor appeared.... not even six

months later.

And maybe that's exactly what we should be doing - coming up with all the right ingredients, a recipe for man cake if you will, so that when Mr. Right pops up, we'll know to usher him towards our easy bake ovens ;)

Dating Tales From the Crypt

On May 7th, I wrote a post entitled, "Waiting for the Phone to Ring."

Well ladies, today it did. Mr. D. is officially back from the dead. Almost three months after our one and only date, Mr. D decided to call me today and see if I would be attending a mutual friend's party tomorrow night.

Needless to say, I am flabbergasted. His message was super nice, friendly, enthusiastic about seeing me.... It is as though no time has passed for him at all. I guess in the land of dead - where boys dissapear to when they stop returning your calls - time passes very quickly.

Not so in the land of the living. A lot of time, and men have passed by since my date with Mr. D.

I am thrilled to announce that I will be attending said party with Mr. Neighbor. Let's see what Mr. D thinks about that!

Back To The Future

Last week, my mom sat me down, and brought up the inevitable conversation. "You can only date him if you think you are both willing to get on the road towards marriage." She is, of course, referring to Mr. Neighbor.

Now, I understand where my mother is coming from. I'm 25, we come from a pretty traditional background, and marriage is well, always a lingering concern. But you know, my last relationship was all about, "is he marriageable??" and I all but had a nervous breakdown.

Things with Mr. Neighbor are going exceptionally well... Last night he invited me over to watch a movie at his place. This is the second movie we've attempted to watch and surprisingly, this time we almost got through the entire thing. He even made a joke about marriage, which in my mind led to a big neon sign appearing which said, we have a winner!

As much as I was annoyed by my mother's comment, it did ring true to some extent. I myself wonder if Mr. Neighbor and I have a shot in the future... because if not, I don't know how much long I can let myself fall for him.

Why is it that every time we are happy in the present, we always end up going back to worrying about the future?

Date Night

Saturday night has eternally been known as date night. Now, for most of us single ladies (and yes, I'm technically still single) Saturday night has devolved into this bar-hopping quest to find a non-belligerent, semi-handsome man to flirt with.

Yet, sometimes, when the stars are aligned, we do in fact end up on a date, on a Saturday night. And that is exactly what Mr. Neighbor and I found ourselves on this past weekend: a real, true to life, Saturday night, date.

I planned the perfect LA evening: A night out at Cinespia.

For those of you who haven't been, I highly recommend it. Saturday nights during the summer, the Hollywood Forever Cemetery screens movies on the side of a building. Don't let the fact that this takes place at a cemetery scare you off - it is phenomenal. Everyone brings blankets and picnics and sits on this great lawn listening to DJ's spin until the sun sets and the movie begins.

This past weekend we watched One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. If you haven't seen it, it is Jack Nicholson at his best. I also recommend the book.

Mr. Neighbor and I snacked on wine and cheese, yummy desserts, and each other. The entire night he was ultra affectionate and impressed by my taste in choosing Cinespia as our date spot. He said it was one of the best things he has ever done in LA.

So all in all, I'm starting to feel a little cuckoo for Mr. Neighbor... the wonderful thing is he's acting a little cuckoo for me too.

Hope

And joy of joys
I realize all is well
And slowly all is full
And life is sweet
And time has slowed
If only just
A
Bit.

Funny how life resolves
And love fulfills
And hope lingers
And fear recedes
If only for
A
Moment.

-SJ (details to come...)

Be A Rainmaker

So, yesterday Mr. Neighbor invited me to lunch. I got all dolled up and counted down the minutes until 1:10, when he met me at my building. The elevator doors opened, and there he stood: tall, handsome, and wearing a killer suit. Walking through Beverly Hills, we looked like the ultimate power couple: tan, beautiful, well-dressed, and happy.

And then we had lunch.

He picked an uber-casual place, didn't pay for me, and at the end of the meal quickly walked me back to my office, gave me a kiss on the cheeck (because he was sick) and left.

And I felt, well, underwhelmed. Sitting in my office I realized something: I am too sensitive. Why should I wait for some action from him to make me feel better? Why couldn't I be the proactive one about my feelings? I wrote him an ultra-flirty, sexy email thanking him for his company and you know what, he sent me two ultra-flirty, super sexy and complimentary e-mails back.

And I felt better. Much much better.

Today I read an article about how people in China are engaging in a weather modification program where they literally make it rain artifically when they need it to. Here is the link if you are interested:

http://www.atimes.com/atimes/China/IG13Ad01.html

If China can literally change the weather and make it rain when they need to, the least I can do is be proactive and take the steps necessary to feel better when I'm being unnecessarily insecure.

When it comes to washing away insecurity, I intend to be a rainmaker.

Find Your "(th)inner" Marc Jacobs

Ladies, we are officially starting the second quarter of No Man Land. And yes, it is time for another rule:

No Man Land Rule: Never underestimate the power of working on your fitness...

Working out is a sure fire way to:

a) Feel more energetic (thus projecting a more open, welcoming vibe)

b) Look hot in a bikini (the implications of which are obvious!)

c) Meet men at the gym/on a run/on a hike/ by the beach, etc.

Curious about the picture? It is a before and after (getting on his fitness!) picture of Marc Jacobs (yes, the designer). And ladies, if Marc Jacobs can do it, so can we. Let this picture serve as your motiviation - it has surely served as mine.

Three Month Anniversary: The Round Up

Ladies, No Man Land is officially three months old. In honor of this great achievement, I thought I'd put together a round-up of all the men we have encountered together thus far:

Sexy Jelly:

1. Law School Boy

2. Mr. D

3. Old Tommy

4. The Doctor

5. The Dentist

6. Mr. A (from New York)

7. Mr. Smile (How did I forget him the first time I posted this, I don't know... thanks for the reminder anonymous ;)

8. Mr Neighbor (Yay!!)

Entrepeanutbutter:

1. Mr. Destin-E (holding strong!)

It seems, at the very least, that No Man Land, has proven to be a success... We went from no men, to many men by changing my outlook on dating in Los Angeles. They may not all of been ideal, but each man proved to be a very valuable learning experience, as evinced by the entries on this blog. In fact, Entrepeanutbutter may in fact have found "the one" although only time (and the blog ;) will tell...

The No Man Land mantra, "Be OPEN" has truly become a way of life for us - and I think that it may in fact be the cure to LMS that we have been seeking. That being said, this is only the beginning for No Man Land, the blog. If the past three months are any indication, who knows what (or who!) the future holds in store.

Thank you for all your comments - please keep them coming!

Heart to Heart

It has been a while since we've done any No Man Land rules... but here is an important one to remember:

No Man Land Rule: In order to win him over, find the way to his heart.

This past few weeks with Mr. Neighbor, he has been subtly revealing himself to me, as most men do at the beginning of a relationship. Luckily for him, I've been paying attention...

Last night I was able to show him just how much I've learned about him thus far. I am almost done reading the book he gave me on Thursday (which he found thrilling). The book is primarily about surfing, which is one of his greatest passions. I told him that the book has fundamentally changed the way I view the ocean. His response, "It served its purpose." Giving me the book was his way of letting me in - my reading it in only a few days and liking it was my way of showing him how at home with him I intend to be.

Another discovery I've made is that he loves Guitar Hero, a great video game. I know. Video game. Sounds terrible, but in reality it isn't. So I invested in the game, and last night he came over and we had a tournament.

And third, one I already knew about most men: Entourage. Men love entourage. Luckily, I already have HBO and last night we caught up on a few episodes.

Surfing. Video games. Entourage.

Three small ways I've discovered into Mr. Neighbor's heart. Intellect, hotness, and affection - three ways that Mr. Neighbor has discovered into mine.

The First Supper

So last night, Mr. Neighbor picked me up and took me to dinner. Since I had never had Thai before (I know, ridiculous) he picked out a great restaurant, and ordered for us. This is a fantastic way to see what kind of man you are dealing with. Not only did he pick a really beautiful restaurant, he picked all the best things on the menu (which he had researched earlier in the day).

I wore what he called "the shortest skirt he had ever seen" and he wore a big smile on his face.

At the end of the meal, we got fortune cookies and mine read:

"Romance moves you in a new direction"

I couldn't have said it better myself. Romance has moved me two houses East...

We Saw Fireworks (Literally)

Last night, I was driving out of my house to go watch the fireworks that the local country club puts on every year, when I noticed Mr. Neighbor’s car in the driveway. So, I decided to call him and invite him to join me for the show. Ladies, there is nothing more convenient than dating your neighbor – I highly recommend it.

In any case, we had an incredible night together (as usual). I don’t know what is more explosive: the fireworks we watched or the chemistry we have when we get together.

The only lingering problem I must face is what to do with Mr. Smile. He called me on Monday and I have yet to return his call… I definitely don’t want to see him anymore, but I don’t want to completely blow him off either. Many a man has been in this predicament (as I have experienced first hand) and they just stop returning calls (i.e. the Doctor I went out with in early May…) But, being that I stem from the more compassionate gender, I’d like to try to do a bit better than that.

The question is: When you’re feeling fireworks with one man, how do you let the other one know that the fire is out? Our founding fathers had to go to war with Britain to end their relationship, which is clearly not the road I’d like to take.

When all you want is your independence, what’s the politically correct way to say, I don’t want to date you anymore?

Can't Get You Out of My Head...

La la la
La la la la la

La la laLa la

la la la

I just cant get you out of my head

Boy your loving is all I think about

I just cant get you out of my head

Boy its more than I dare to think about

La la la

La la la la la

Who knew Kylie Minogue could be so on point? Every since my dream date with Mr. Neighbor Saturday night, I literally can't get him out of my head. I relive every moment, every word, and wonder, was it real? Did I give too much? Will he just poof! and disappear? Should I call him? What is he thinking? Why am I acting so crazy?

The bottom line is, that I know in my heart we connected, and that I have nothing to worry about. Yet, with the cacaphony in my mind, I'm having a hard time focusing on anything else.

When you feel like you belong in a hospital for the love sick (which I would imagine looks something like the kylie minogue video pic above), how do you get the voices in your head to turn off?

Go go, Speed Dater?

Where I was with Mr. Smile last week, is where I am with Mr. Neighbor this week. What a world of difference one week can make. I spent all of Saturday with Mr. Neighbor, from 10 am to 5 am. We went to the beach, a barbeque and hung out the entire night as well.

Let’s just say, I’m completely and utterly sprung.

Which should make me feel wonderful right? Not so much. All day Sunday, I felt completely sick and confused. How is it possible that one week I’m so passionate about one man, and the next week so passionate about another?

And this is how I’ve come to realize I’m dating-challenged. I’m great at being a girlfriend, where there are no boundaries, and the affection is endless… I’m not so great at getting to know someone slowly, and only then deciding whether or not to drop anchor.

As far as Mr. Smile is concerned, I think I’m totally over it. Mr. Neighbor is just so much more intriguing, due to his intellect and wit. Not to mention, he is H-O-T and lives two doors down. The only problem is that emotionally, I feel like already totally invested in Mr. Neighbor and completely vulnerable – and I’ve only known him one week! I feel like speed dater!

The question is: when your heart is racing full speed ahead, how do you slow down long enough to know whether or not you should even be in the race?