Date Night

So, after my last post, I decided it is time to open up to Mr. Smile. All the childish critiques I had come up with were just that - childish critiques. Perhaps the fear of being vulnerable, after the last few dating debacles I've had, stopped me from giving Mr. Smile a true chance - but - all that has changed. I'm ready to take the plunge.

Mr. Smile and I are having our first official date on Sunday night.

In honor of "date night," here is an article that lists 100 great date night ideas. http://www.redbookmag.com/601230. It is a ridiculously cheesy article, and definitely not geared to metropolitan jet setters, but it is amusing to say the least. A few of my favorites:

12. Gooey, sexy, delicious: Get a fondue pot and have a feast. Add a French movie and French-kiss all night.

18. Enjoy a rousing game of Twister.

38. Drive out to a country field, lie down and snuggle under the stars. (Definitely not an option in LA - where is this article's target audience located!)

54. Give each other haircuts. (Ha!)

So, in honor of my impending date, any dating tips or suggestions for jelly?

Girl Meets Boy. Boy Calls Girl. Girl happy?

At exactly five p.m. on Monday afternoon, as I was sitting at my desk figuring out how to make the next hour and a half of work magically float away, my cell phone lit up with a number I didn't recognize. Just one minute earlier, I had sent my girlfriend a message saying, "I hope he calls me today." Well, Mr. Smile must have picked up on my energy because call he did. Not only that, he gushed about how happy he was to have met me Saturday night, and what a good time he had, etc. He was exactly what I've been looking for, right?

Ladies, I'm so confused. Before he called, all I could do was think about him. On Sunday, I relieved our entire night, thinking about how sexy his raspy voice was, how interesting it was that he likes to take photographs, how much he liked music. And yet, the entire time we were on the phone, I found a million little reason to pick him apart. He doesn't own his own business. He lives too far South. His laugh kind of sucks. A good looking, intelligent, and kind man is calling me, just like I've been hoping for, and after one phone conversation all I can do is tally up his flaws.

When opportunity comes a knocking, why is it that we sometimes find ourselves locking the door?

The Perfect Pick Up.... And Exit

Last night represented the official start of the summer: I went to my first concert at the Hollywood Bowl for the summer season of 2007. Last year, the girls and I started going to summer concerts at the Hollywood Bowl. For those of you that aren't from Los Angeles, the Hollywood Bowl is this amazing outdoor venue. During the summer, we get cheap seats, cheap wine, and enjoy amazing shows. Last night, we saw John Mayer.

If you haven't seen John Mayer in concert, he is a must! Apart from his somewhat orgasmic facial expressions, he is an engaging performer with an incredible voice. And what he does with that guitar only leaves you wondering what else he can do with those magic hangs. But, I digress.

After the show, my girlfriend and I went to a birthday party at the Viceroy. As we were doing a

lap to scope out the scene, this guy stops me as I'm walking by him and says, "I like your smile." How cute, right? This was at the beginning of our lap and I decided to say thank you and keep walking. One minute later I realized that the Viceroy really isn't that big, and perhaps I shouldn't have breezed by Mr. "I like your smile" so quickly. Luckily for me, he didn't forget about me either. Mr. Smile (as we will call him for now) Is tall enough, handsome, and has this really sexy almost raspy voice. We spent the rest of the night getting to know each other, and it turns out we have a lot of common interests... with one in particular, seeing each other again!

At the end of the night, I gave him my number, and we said goodbye. About ten minutes later, he runs back up to me and goes, "I just wanted to make sure: your number is XXX-XXXX, right?"

A great pick up line and a great exit line. This one sounds promising!

A Postsecret Secret...

Getting Pampered In NY

Due to popular demand, here is some more dish on our trip to NY. Well, Monday night, after clubbing Friday and Saturday nights, and being treated to dinner by my NY "boyfriend" on Sunday night (hey, we made out two nights in a row - and he bought me dinner.... he was definitely my boyfriend!) we decided that it was time to do something a bit more relaxing. We decided to stay in, chill out, and recoup from our busy day of shopping. Peanut came up with the brilliant idea of going to a spa. Problem was, it was already 11:00 pm. Well ladies, in NY this isn't a problem after all.

We decided to call our NY friends and see whether or not there was a "night spa" we could go to. The first place we called seemed promising until the receptionist informed us that the spa was for "men only" and "couples." Interesting. Let's just say that the spa's slogan should have been, "we don't stop until you pop."

Luckily, the next place we tried was like winning the lottery. We found the ultimate Korean night spa: Juvenex in Manhattan. Clean, and offering a wide array of services, we went to the spa and got showered, steamed, sauna-ed, scrubbed, and massaged. The scrub was a must ladies. You strip down (completely) and get scrubbed from head to toe in areas you never thought existed.

And for those of you that do manage to escape No Man Land, they have special couples packages.

Although we may not have gotten the "happy ending" some other night spas might offer, Juvenex definitely did the trick. For the ladies in NY, definitely give this place a try: http://www.juvenexspa.com/.

I'm trying to scout out an equivalent in LA. I'll keep you girls posted.

Craving a Contact High

So, since Saturday night I have run into my ex a total of three times. I am not kidding. I saw him at a bar Saturday night, and twice this past week having lunch on the street I work on.

Last night, I also bumped into his uncle, his uncle's wife, and their children.

When I was in NY a few weeks ago, I even bumped into my ex's mother on Fifth Avenue in front of H&M.

What is the universe trying to tell me?

To make matters worse, I keep bumping into him at a time when I am, in the words of Ed Ruscha's painting, "Gasping For Contact."

Well ladies, in that since I started this blog I've committed myself to an exclusively "glass half full" approach to these situations, I believe that the universe is trying to show me that even when I am at my loneliest of lonely, and feeling as though I am in complete solitude, I would still chose not to be with my ex. And that, my darlings, is progress.

Learning to Love Yourself: Vaginas in Mythology, Art, and History

Here are some snippits from a great article I discovered about the glory of the vagina. Yes. The glory. The image today is a painting by one of the most succesful female artists ever, Georgia O'Keefe. She painted flowers... that kind of actually are depictions of vaginas.

If you want to see the article in full, please visit: http://www.widdershins.org/vol11iss1/11.htm.

"Common nicknames for menstruation and women's genitals [in American culture] are anything but flattering. Yet in many other cultures, there are depictions of women's genitals in powerful legends and pervasive art. Since women give birth, their genitals were the focal point of mystic awe and religious wonder for many generations and cultures on earth throughout history. It has been speculated that original religions were matrifocal for this reason, and that patriarchal religions such as Christianity purposely supplanted female godheads with male ones for political power purposes."

"Vulva goddesses exist in history, such as Baubo. Her name means belly, as in belly laughter. She is a fun goddess, known for her bawdy sexual, even obscene, jokes. Her head is her torso, and her chin is her genital mound; thus she is a bearded woman. In legend, Baubo lifted her skirt, making "wise cracks," until Demeter began laughing, then roaring with laughter, and her own power, again. It can be hard to imagine empowering sexual jokes since most of the sexual jokes in our culture, unfortunately, are debasing, especially to women. But Baubo is an image to help overcome ruts we have may have found ourselves in."

"Other cultures have vulva goddesses. American Christian culture offers a virgin who has an immaculate conception, which is basically birth with the sex removed! Contemporary American artists, such as Judy Chicago and Georgia O'Keefe, have tried to liberate the stiff male control of vulvas in America, and have been met with intense protest and controversy. The success of The Vagina Monologues is a good sign, yet it too is considered far more controversial than Playboy. People need better imagery around women's genitals than America provides.

Women's genitals should not be reduced to mere porn or Tampax commercials. We can do better. Let's raise a generation without the slug and tuna fish jokes, with respect for women's monthly cycles, rather than shrouding them in disgust, filth, shame, and controlling religious dogma."

Last night I ran into my ex. He looked in my eyes and told me in so many words that he is still in love with me. I've never been so sad. Sad that I don't feel the same way. Despite all the love we shared, he just wasn't the one. And so, here I remain in No Man Land.

And I've been feeling it lately. Feeling that creeping cynicism that nonchalantly waltzes in and tauntingly whispers, "You're alone and might be left waiting to meet someone for a LONG TIME."

But you know in the end, we're all waiting for something. Even when you have a pseudo-perfect boyfriend, like my ex, there are still those imperfections that leave you feeling alone, unsatisfied, unfulfilled.

So the challenge I guess is: can I find the strength to not let my happiness depend on having a man? Is LMS merely a symptom of my lack of self-reliance?

The Older Man Problem... Revisited

So ever since my birthday, I've been keeping in touch with "Old Tommy." I've posted about him before. He is a GREAT guy with one catch: He is almost fifteen years my senior. So, I know I've asked the "How old is too old" question before, and he definitely falls into that category numerically, but part of me is still completely curious. What if he is the one for me? I'm sure you've all heard the expression, love is blind. The question is, should it be?

We

My new man, lets call him Mister, says: "By the way baby, we are invited to a party next Saturday night." We!

Is this when you know, he definitely likes you?