Tag Archives: single life

What I Want the Most

A year ago, I blogged about how I moved past hating Valentine’s Day. At this point, I actually kind of like it because it gives me an excuse to spoil myself—and as an introvert, I have always enjoyed the pleasure of my own company, so I take whatever excuses I can. But as I’m another year older and single for another year, I have to admit that I’m reflecting on some things.

Now, before I say anything more, I want to note that this is not a woe-is-me-I’m-single post. It’s not an OMG-my-significant-other-RAWKS! post, either. (By the way, those two things are equally annoying, so basically, everyone should just shut up about their relationship statuses.) But it is a musing on getting older and how I find myself looking at the future differently in my late twenties than I did in my early twenties.

You notice my bucket list here? Lots of fun stuff on it—skydiving, mountain climbing, and some stuff that isn’t in a Tim McGraw song, like owning a boat, recording a song, and being a bestselling author. I also have my list of travel goals that I hope to make some progress on over the next couple of years.

But the truth is, I would give up every other item on both of those lists if it meant that I could have only these three:

  • Fall in love with an awesome guy who loves me back, have a wonderful wedding, and stay happily married for the rest of our lives
  • Have at least two kids
  • Own a house in the Boston suburbs

That’s it. Those are the things I want the most out of life. They are not extraordinary things. They’re things that millions of people manage to do without much trouble. And yet, for me, they might be the hardest items on my bucket list to accomplish. Let’s take a look at them.

Not only have I never been in a relationship, I have never been in love. So my heart has never been broken, but I also do not know what romantic love feels like. And as easy as it is to get cynical and think that real love doesn’t exist or that all relationships will end, I know that’s not true. I know people who are really, truly in love and will be together for the rest of their lives. And I always think of my paternal grandparents, who lived through the Great Depression and World War II and who were happily married for sixty-six years until my grandfather’s death. Real love happens, but it has never happened to me, and more than anything, I want to find someone with whom to spend every day for the rest of my life.

I also want at least two kids. The challenge here is accomplishing the part before that, love and marriage, in time to make that happen. It’s very hard to get pregnant without fertility treatments after age thirty-five or so. If I met a guy tomorrow, I’d have to date him for at least two years before I’d consider getting engaged. Then we’d be engaged for about another year and have at least a year or two of being married and childless before having our first kid, which would make me a first-time mother at about age thirty-two. Which is fine, but remember, this would be the absolute earliest. I’d consider adoption in the future as well, but even if I were to adopt, I wouldn’t want to be too old when becoming a parent.

The side effect of wanting kids so badly is that it has made me pickier about whom I’m attracted to. When I look at dating sites, I end up thinking things like, “Is his career stable? Does he seem mature enough to be a good father? Does he value the same kinds of things that I do?” I just feel like I can’t waste time with someone if I can’t see a long-term future with him.

The other reason I want to find someone who is mature and financially stable is because of the third thing I want: owning a house in the Boston suburbs. Specifically, a house that is on enough land to be more private than living in the city and has at least three bedrooms and a backyard. And a house that is located in a Boston suburb that is on the commuter rail and has a good school system. And, the hardest part, a house that my hypothetical future husband and I can afford.

Now, I am pretty good at saving money. Despite paying a lot in rent and earning the first word of my blog title by working in a not-so-lucrative industry, I have managed to save a decent amount. And one of the reasons I was so excited to become a sales rep was because if I make my number, I get a much bigger bonus than I used to get. But even so, the Boston suburbs are ridiculously expensive, even if you’re just looking for a modest three-bedroom house, and it will take me a long time to save enough money for a down payment. What if I can’t meet a guy who can afford to help me buy a house?

What do you guys think? Have you found your priorities changing as you get older? What do you want the most out of life, and do you worry about how you may never achieve it?

Weddings, Royal and Otherwise

So, have you heard there was a wedding in London last Friday?

There was the endless reporting leading up to the wedding, which inevitably led to backlash, which led to backlash to the backlash. But I admit that I set my DVR and watched the wedding coverage when I got home on Friday.

I am completely single. According to all the stereotypes, I should be complaining about how miserable weddings make me, mocking every bride who dares to let her wedding day stress her out, railing against the wedding industry and ranting about couples who spend a fortune on one day.

It’s almost un-PC to want a big wedding these days. I can’t tell you how many people I know who have said some variation of, “I was never the kind of girl who grew up dreaming of her wedding,” or “I don’t want a big wedding.”

But the truth is, I love weddings, and if I have ever have one, I want it to be awesome. Not necessarily fancy, mind you, but not just a cookout in the backyard, either. I want to enjoy having all my friends and family together in one place. I want to be somewhere beautiful and for me to look better than I’ve ever looked in my life. I want to have more fun than I’ve ever had at any party. I want to be so happy that no changes of plans or problems along the way can get me down. And most of all, I want it to be something that reminds me continuously why I want to spend the rest of my life with (hypothetical future husband).

This article touches on a lot of the feelings I have about my hypothetical future wedding—I know, and to some extent agree with, many of the major criticisms about weddings (many traditions are outdated and sexist, too much focus on materialism, people get so caught up in the wedding that they lose sight of the marriage, etc.), but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to plan mine. I have thought about the venue (somewhere by the ocean in New England would be nice), the menu (food I LIKE! I don’t want to hate the food at my own wedding!), the cake (Party Favors in Brookline), the music (our own wedding playlist), the bridesmaids’ gowns (lilac-colored, in whatever style they’d like), and my dress (long and white with sleeves—I’m not a fan of the strapless wedding dress trend). I do not, however, have any idea who the groom will be. (At least Katy Kelleher, the author of that article, had a boyfriend!)

I think for me, what the perfect wedding would come down to is love. I want the celebration of my marriage with the man I love to be something that takes place in a space I love with the food and music I love and, of course, all the people I love. No wedding will ever be perfect, and maybe I wouldn’t want mine to be, but I do enjoy thinking of all the ways that I could make one day as special as possible. Romantic love is a pretty amazing thing, from what I hear, and I think that if two people’s love is real, their wedding should reflect that amazing-ness in whatever way is the most amazing for them.

As for William and Kate, well, I don’t know them, but I do know that they’ve been together for a long time and seem to have prepared themselves well for their married lives. I hope they’re as happy as they looked last Friday.

And thank you, Kate, for wearing a beautiful dress that will inevitably make sleeved wedding dresses popular again. I hope that’s still the style when my hypothetical future wedding day arrives.

That Don’t Impress Me Much

I’ve been doing a lot of looking around Match.com and OKCupid lately, and I have to say—a lot of the people on there could use some profile lessons.

Now, of course, some of them are just laughably bad. Rebekah recently shared some of the ones she’d come across. I recall one guy on Match.com who said he wasn’t looking for anything serious because he was about to move to New York–really, dude? You can’t just place a Craigslist ad or pick up a girl in a bar? There was another guy on Match whose profile seemed totally normal until the last line, which read, “Some turnoffs: prissy princesses, women who drink beer or drink too much.” … I see how the first and last ones could be turnoffs, but women who drink beer? WTF?

And, of course, this gem of a confession from OKCupid: “I once called my college roommates parents cause he was such a slob, and it worked! he cleaned up!”

Wow. I have so much more respect for you because you have the balls to admit to being a passive-aggressive tattletale.

So there are those. And there are the people who simply don’t seem like my type. But there are also the profiles that aren’t bad so much as trying too hard- like they’re only writing what they think people want to hear. Here’s what a typical straight male online dating profile sounds like:

“I never thought I’d be doing online dating, but I’m really getting tired of the bar scene. I’m a down-to-earth, easygoing guy with a sarcastic sense of humor. I’m very career-driven but also like to relax with a beer watching a Boston sports game with friends on the weekends. I enjoy spending time hiking and experiencing the outdoors and also try to go to the gym as much as I can. Traveling is my passion. My family is wonderful and we’re very close. I’m looking for a girl who is always up for anything and can get dressed up for a night on the town or relax in sweats with me and a movie. If this sounds good to you, drop me a line!”

Now, there’s nothing blatantly wrong with profiles like these. And if you’re genuinely a down-to-earth, sarcastic, career-driven, outdoors-loving, world-traveling, family-worshipping gym rat, well, go ahead and post a profile like that. But girls are going to have a hard time telling you apart from the millions of other down-to-earth, sarcastic, career-driven, outdoors-loving, world-traveling, family-worshipping gym rats attempting to find dates online. And maybe the majority of guys out there (or at least the majority of guys who come up in my searches) really are like that, but I think it’s more likely that they’re just saying what they think we want to hear. So let’s break it down:

-First of all, none of us ever thought we were going to do online dating. We all dreamed of meeting our soul mates in high school, then in college, then at work, then in a meet-cute incident at a bar. (Or at least I did.) So that disclaimer is unnecessary.

-As is the line about “the bar scene.” I’m sure some people do get long-term relationships out of people they meet at bars, but the odds are against you. Frankly, if that was the method you depended upon to meet girls, I have to say that I think a little less of you.

-Career-driven is great. Career-driven is fabulous. But you’ve got to give me more than that. If you just say “career-driven,” you just sound like someone who worships money. You need to tell me why you’re career-driven. Did you start in an entry-level position, enjoyed it, wanted more of a challenge, and worked your way up to manager? Did you decide to go into medicine/education/social work because you’re passionate about curing diseases/teaching the children/righting the wrongs of the world? Do you have goals for the work you do because you love it so much? Is it a career you only sort of like but you can live with it because you know it will finance your future and your children’s future? All of these reasons are great and things I want to know about, but most people just end up settling for “career-driven.” Give me something I can work with!

-“Hiking and exploring the outdoors.” Now, there is nothing inherently wrong with this. The thing that amazes me is the sheer number of guys who put this in their profile. In real life, I only rarely hear people talk about going hiking or fishing or camping over the weekends, but a ridiculous number of guys on online dating sites seem to like these things. Are that many guys really into it and I don’t realize it? Or do they just put it in their profile because they think it makes them seem “rugged” and “manly”?

-“I try to go to the gym as much as I can.” Now, here’s one instance where something comes off exactly the opposite of how the guy intended it. If you’re training for a race, fabulous! If you’re raising money for cancer/the dolphins/the Human Fund, even better! If you participate in your office softball team or Social Boston Sports, if you enjoy yoga or spin class so much you can’t miss it, or if you just genuinely get some kind of high off of using a treadmill or pumping iron, that’s all great and you should say so. But if you just make a point of saying how you always go to the gym and how important fitness is to you, I’m going to think that you’re really vain and appearance-focused. You know who else goes to the gym a lot? The Situation and Pauly D. Do you also tan and do laundry after your trips to the gym?

-Same with “I love to travel.” Good Lord. This is a pet peeve of mine not just with online dating, but with life in general. Traveling is not some kind of badge of honor. I am not impressed with your list of countries that you’ve visited. You are not morally superior because you’ve seen the Eiffel Tower or the Great Wall of China. All that means is that you’ve had the money and the opportunity to travel to those places. Not all of us have! I do love to travel, as do most people, but I do not give a shit where you’ve been.

-You’re down-to-earth and easygoing, you love your family, you like both going out and staying in. All good things, and I even have some variation on those things in my own profile. But, really, done to death. If you really want to stand out, tell me some story about yourself, or at least get more specific. Is there some occasion where you look forward to seeing your family because you have some kind of yearly ritual? Do you like to make popcorn, drink a PBR, and watch DVR’ed episodes of Modern Family on Friday nights, followed by a Boylston Street pub crawl with your college friends on Saturday, during which you make sure to order a big plate of nachos? THESE are the things I want to know about.

But who knows? Maybe there aren’t really that many guys out there with profiles like these, and this is just my type. Maybe my destiny is to end up with a guy who hikes and loves traveling and going to the gym. If that’s true, at least I know that there are plenty of them.

My So-Called Valentine’s Day

I used to hate Valentine’s Day, which is such a cliché. Every year, you hear people bitch about how it’s just an excuse to sell greeting cards and chocolate and how it’s “Singles Awareness Day” for people without significant others. All that is true, but in spite of that, I’ve found myself enjoying Valentine’s Day more and more in recent years.

Why? For the simplest reason ever—there are worse things than being single. Being in a good relationship > being single >being in a bad relationship. I’d much rather spend Valentine’s Day unattached than with someone I just started dating, or someone I’ve been dating for awhile but no longer want to be, or someone who likes me a lot more than I like him or vice versa. I know people who are spending V-Day with people it would be better for them not to be with, and I don’t envy them a bit.

Also, a lack of a relationship doesn’t mean a lack of love. At this point, I see Valentine’s Day as a time to celebrate the loving relationships I do have—with my friends and with myself.

Last night I went out with some of my favorite single ladies for our own Valentine’s Day celebration. We ate some fabulous unhealthy food at Coolidge Corner Clubhouse and then headed over to My So-Called 90s Night at Common Ground in Allston. For those of you who have never experienced this particular event, it is possibly the best time you will have at a bar in Boston—hours of Backstreet Boys, Third Eye Blind, Coolio, Ace of Base, Britney Spears, Chumbawumba, etc. We danced, yelled out the lyrics, did shots, and drank a lot of beer. When I’m finally not single, I’m going to miss this built-in excuse to go out with my girlfriends. Maybe then, Flag Day will become my new hang-out-with-the-girls holiday.

Tonight I ordered sushi, poured myself some wine, took a hot bubble bath, and watched my DVR’ed TV shows and some of my favorite chick flicks. I also bought myself a heart-shaped box of candy and a single red rose. Why not? While there are certainly things in my life that could be improved, for the most part, I am very, very happy. (My whole house is great! I can do anything good!) And if that’s not something to celebrate, what is?

Waiting For My Real Life to Begin

I’ve been in a weird mood lately.

For the most part, I’m very happy with my life right now. I love my job. I love my apartment. As much as I bitch about the T, I love not having a car most of the time. And while I can’t deny that I’d love to have a boyfriend, I enjoy the freedom that comes with being single.

But do I want my life to stay like this forever? Can I imagine myself in twenty years, living in an apartment in Somerville, still trying to get a date, childless, dependent on public transportation, working for the same low salary? Could you tell the answer to that question before you got halfway through the previous sentence?

I have moments when I wonder if I’m stuck here—if anything in my life is ever going to change. The funny thing is that I’ve never been good with change. When I was a kid, my mom would always be asking me if I wanted a new comforter or a new jacket or something, and my answer was always, “No, I like the one I have.” And I’ve always dreaded changes like starting college or graduating from college or friends moving away. I guess that’s a good thing—it must mean I’m fairly content with my life.

But now, I find myself fearing things staying the same. I’ve written enough about wanting a relationship, so I won’t go into it again. But one reason I haven’t discussed is that even though I have great roommates and a great apartment, I’d also like to live alone for a little while, and I don’t think that I could live alone if I wasn’t in a relationship. It relates back to this—I think I’d feel cut off from the world otherwise. So I guess I simultaneously crave aloneness and companionship. Man, am I that hard to please?

I’ve mentioned before how hard I find it to imagine owning a house. I’m still years and years away from that goal. But I’ve been finding myself thinking lately about where I want to live when I am ready to buy…which towns are fairly close to Boston? Have a commuter rail station in town? Have a good public school system for my nonexistent children? Recently, I bought the issue of Boston magazine about the best places to live, and then I wondered why. It’s not as if I’m about to get married and buy a house in the suburbs with my husband. But I still like to think about the possibilities for where I might live.

I’ve written extensively about my love-hate relationship with the T, but the truth is that I usually enjoy saving a lot of money by not paying for gas or parking or insurance or repairs if anything goes wrong. Still, there are a lot of times that I just wish I could get in the damn car and drive somewhere. Market Basket, the blissfully cheap local supermarket, is two miles away from me, which is close enough that I can walk…but far enough away that I can’t carry more than a couple of bags back with me. I wish I didn’t always have to ask my dad to come pick me up if I’m visiting my parents, and that I didn’t have to take the commuter rail to visit Christina.

If I eventually take a certain job, though, I’d get a company car, which would be awesome, but scary in its own way. The thing is, I love what I’m doing for work, and I know that I definitely want to stay in publishing, but there’s a large part of me that wants to move on to the next step, scary and unfamiliar as it may be. I’ve been trying to do as much as I can to prepare myself for it, and I’m lucky to have an incredibly supportive boss who’s been helping me a lot with career development. It would be a challenge for me if it does happen, but I also feel like if I prove that I can do it, I can do anything.

And then there’s my stalled writing career, which is no one’s fault but my own. I just need to glue my butt to the chair and get the writing done. I don’t even want to think about how much I could have accomplished if I spent as much time writing as I do sitting around watching reruns of 1990s sitcoms.

So…I don’t have any answers. All I know is that where I am isn’t bad, but where I could be looks even better. I’ll be twenty-five in July, and I think a lot of people feel this way as they near the quarter-century mark. At least I know what I want, I guess. Stay tuned.

A Story That Might Not Mean Anything

Warning: I try not to write about anything too personal here, but this is going to be more personal than most. I really hope that I don’t come off sounding like a moody drama queen, but it may be unavoidable.

A couple of years ago, I read a wonderful book by Lisa Tucker called The Song Reader. It’s about a woman who analyzes what’s going on in people’s lives based on the songs they listen to or that have been stuck in their heads, especially specific lines that stick out for them. Sometimes a song is a manifestation of your subconscious.

I won’t say too much more about the book, but it’s amazing how true it is. On my coworker’s last day of work, she said she had “Goodbye to You” by Michelle Branch, a song she doesn’t even like, stuck in her head. When I was going through a difficult time awhile ago, the song I kept listening to on repeat was Beth Hart’s “Leave the Light On,” which might have been my way of telling myself not to give up.

And then there’s the song that’s been stuck in my head lately: “The Story” by Brandi Carlile. And this is the line I can’t get rid of: “But these stories don’t mean anything if you’ve got no one to tell them to.”

In the context of the song, it’s a happy line—the next one is “It’s true, I was made for you.” But my subconscious never gets there.

Here’s a story I wish I had someone to tell. Last Friday, after getting out of work early for a summer Friday, I didn’t know what to do. Then I thought, why don’t I go walk along the beach in South Boston? I’ve never been there, and it might be a cool place to explore. So, by myself, I took the bus, and to get to the beach, I had to walk across a field. On the other side of the field was a man with a dog, which he had taken off the leash. It was a fairly small dog, and I’m not sure what kind—probably mixed breed. But anyway, the dog saw me walking across the field, ran over to me, jumped on me, and slightly bit me. (Before you worry, it was a superficial wound, and I’ve since gone to the doctor, gotten a tetanus shot, and put on a rabies vaccine, so I’m fine.) The dog’s owner was apologizing and saying that the dog never does this. I was too in shock to ask for the owner’s name and phone number, which I probably should have done.

But then, when I did get over the shock, I just thought, No one is here. I just got bitten by a dog, and no one is here.

This happened after a few weeks of me feeling increasingly lonely. There are times when it hits me that I’ve been single my entire life, and this is one of those times. I mean, forget having someone to grow old with, have kids with, celebrate Valentine’s Day with, split the cost of a one-bedroom apartment with (seriously, I found myself wanting to be in a relationship for that specific reason while I was looking for a new apartment), etc. Sometimes, I just want to be in a relationship for the companionship. It would be really nice to have someone to whom I mattered enough that I could just call him and say, “Hey! Some random dog just bit me!” Or someone who would make the time to go to the beach with me. Or, for that matter, go to Restaurant Week or a bar I’ve been meaning to try or the BC-Notre Dame game with me. And someone whom I’d accompany to whatever he wanted to do, and whom I’d listen to if he called me after getting bitten by a dog. Someone who would always be there for me, whether I want to go out and do something fun or stay in and watch Friends reruns, whether I want to share a funny story or vent about the annoying people on the T.

It’s not that I don’t have friends—I do—but they all have their own lives, and I can’t bother them with all the good and bad things going on with me. I think one problem I have, and one that I’ve struggled with in the past, is that I don’t feel that I’m necessary in many people’s lives. I mean, there are certainly people who like me, but not too many who would notice my absence and say, “Wow, too bad Katie’s not here!” And when you’re in your twenties, so many people’s lives are in flux—people are moving away, changing jobs, going back to school—that it’s nice to have a constant presence in your life, someone you can depend on to care about you. I really just want someone who makes me feel necessary—not in a needy, codependent way, and not in a cheesy, Jerry Maguire, “You complete me,” way, but in a way that makes me feel confident that he’ll always enjoy my company, always listen to what I have to say, and know that I’ll always feel the same way about him.

Like I said, I don’t want to come off sounding whiny and dramatic, because realistically, I don’t think I’m doomed to a lifetime of singlehood. I’m only twenty-four, and plenty of people my age are still single. And it’s not like I hate being alone—I’ve always been good at enjoying the pleasure of my own company. But there was something I saw on the T last week that made me pause: a girl and a guy who I think were BU students and who were cute in the way of couples who are friends as well as romantic partners. They were affectionate, but not in a really obvious, disgusting way, and they were having a good time making fun of each other as they talked. At one point, the guy started telling the girl something, and she said, “I’m sorry—but you’ve already told me this story about ten times, and it’s not that interesting.” Then they both laughed, and kissed a little bit. I loved that they were comfortable enough with each other that they could say that.

That’s what I want. At the end of the day, I think that’s what most of us want—someone whom we can tell our stories to. Even if he’s already heard them ten times and they’re not that interesting.

The Title of This Blog Has Not Changed

Yes, Valentine’s Day has come and gone, and the “single” part of “Struggling Single Twenty-Something” is still valid.

This year I went to a bar with some coworkers who also didn’t have plans, and it was fun. We had some drinks, talked, and came up with reasons why we like being single and why we don’t like being in a relationship.

Except I had to guess on the last one, because I wouldn’t know.

It’s kind of embarrassing to admit it, but I’ve never had a boyfriend. I read a short story by Curtis Sittenfeld where the main character wonders “how people made the leap from not mattering in each other’s lives to mattering,” and that articulates a thought I’ve had much better than I could. (Incidentally, the main character in that story was a slightly crazy twenty-three-year-old who volunteers through a program that sounds really similar to the one I volunteer with, so that disturbed me a bit.) I hope a time comes when I feel differently, but right now I’m not feeling too good about the odds that I’ll ever a.) have a guy in my life who’ll become my best friend, b.) fall in love with him, c.) have him feel the same way, and d.) not have any factors (like distance, timing, etc.) get in the way.

Maybe I’m overly picky, but I don’t think that’s the point. I guess it’s that I don’t understand having a relationship if you know it’s going to end. You’re either going to spend the rest of your lives together or you’re going to break up, and if you’re going to break up…you’re wasting your time and possibly missing out on meeting someone better.

Of course, I could be overreacting, and a relationship that doesn’t last might be good for me after all. But I’m also thinking about something a friend said to me recently. When I told her that I’d never had a boyfriend, she said, “But you must have a really good sense of self.”

And that made me pause. That wasn’t the reaction I expected, but I kind of think she’s right. I am not the most confident person in the world, but “sense of self” isn’t an issue with me. Christina and I were talking tonight about how sometimes that’s the most important thing for getting you through hard times. Having someone else to depend on is great…but first you have to be able to depend on yourself. (Oh, yes, and I believe the children are our future. Teach them well and let them lead the way. Show them all the beauty they possess inside, you know?) And if you go from relationship to relationship without taking the time to be single, or even if you’re single but constantly thinking about how you want not to be, I think it’s pretty easy to lose yourself.

If I was going to write a song to describe my life right now, it wouldn’t be a love song. It would be more like that Jessica Andrews song, “Who I Am.” (You know, “I am Rosemary’s granddaughter/The spitting image of my father/And when the day is done my mama’s still my biggest fan.”) Too bad I can’t write songs. But if you want a concise description of my life, read my “About Me.” For a longer version…well, keep reading.

Dating On Demand

I love living with grad students—we get student cable at a very reasonable rate, and that cable package includes On Demand. We get new movies for $3.99, which is especially convenient now that the Blockbuster near me is closing (grrr…). We also get some free movies, many of which are awesome (Say Anything, Marvin’s Room, The Silence of the Lambs), and the CBS shows and a bunch of cable shows on demand. Not to mention zillions of music videos and samples of every type of Scene It.

But tucked into a corner of the On Demand choices is an option called “The Cutting Edge.” After determining that the ice skating movie I saw at a sleepover when I was fourteen did not get its own On Demand option, I discovered that along with the “Vegas” option, which includes “Hooters On Demand” (seriously), and aptly named “Stupid Videos” (which includes a supposedly funny send-up of book clubs), there is an option called “The Singles Life.”

And under that? Along with episodes of Cheaters and four-minute videos with titles like “Think Like a Guy” (summary: don’t over-accessorize and don’t talk on your cell phone too loudly), we have…video personals!

Yes, seriously. They’re these videos with someone off-camera asking them questions (which you can’t hear, but you can tell what they are by the people’s responses) like, “What’s your biggest pet peeve?” and “What’s the sexiest thing about you?” I think they were filmed in a mall, so I kind of wonder if these people have seen themselves on TV and had second thoughts about what was maybe a snap decision while shopping.

And who are these people? Well, there’s one guy whose screen name is Nature 8125 and whose description (which you see before you choose to watch his video) reads, “Funky, fabulous, funny, forever dancing across amazing adventures from lifetime to lifetime singing beauty into existence & manifesting a peaceful, harmonious, happy and green planet.” His name is Nate, and he’s a local performance artist with thinning blonde hair that stands straight up. He teaches dance, wants to gain exposure as a comedian, calls himself “deeply spiritual,” and won’t date a Republican. He describes his ideal woman as “kind of tribal” and “warrior-esque with crazy hair and intense eyes,” and she loves “to move her body really really fast” and “to eat really slowly and sensually.” Then there’s RabbitHunter, who says the most interesting thing about him is that he still lives at home at twenty-six. I give him two points for honesty, but really…that’s the most interesting thing about him? Outgoing says that his worst date was with a girl who had a horrible, loud-pitched laugh, but he never got to go on that date because he left. Real prize, that Outgoing. On the other hand, Vincent78 (whose name is actually Jason) says he would like a girl with an “insane laugh” because he has one himself.

There are other categories, but I’m not exactly sure what the criteria are for fitting into them. I don’t know how the girls under “Hotties” and “Naughty” are any different from the other girls listed—their ads certainly don’t seem any different, except that they have user names like Sorority girl and Naughty_femme_ohso_sexy. For the guys, there are “Bad Boys,” one of whom is MooseCalledJim (his name is Justin) who’s eighteen and has long hair and a weird hat and looks like a stoner. “None of my bands have taken off yet,” he says. The guys under the Mr. Right category seem a little more normal—at least Dante123’s name is actually Dante.

I’m laughing, but in actuality, these people aren’t any different from anyone who posts on dating sites like match.com and eHarmony. And millions of people do that—the On Demand people have just done it in a more public way. But there’s no shame in looking for love (or at least a date) online. I’ve never joined a dating site, although I can’t say I never will, but many of my friends have, some with more success than others. But where’s the shame in them? After you graduate from college, where are you supposed to meet new guys? On the T?

I think it can be kind of embarrassing to admit to using a dating site, though, because it’s often a last resort. At work this week, a co-worker was talking about a date she’d recently been on, and when I asked her where she met the guy, her skin tone progressed from salmon to fire-engine before she admitted that it was match.com and swore me to secrecy.

So while it’s easy for me to laugh at people looking for dates via my cable package, at the end of the day I have to say I respect them. At least they’re putting themselves out there. But I do wonder if any of them have found a date in a bored On Demand subscriber based on one night they spent in front of a video camera at a mall.

Music Snobs Need Not Apply

Two things that happened last week: the Grammy Awards and Valentine’s Day. And this is how the combination of those two things led me to write this entry.

I actually almost forgot about Valentine’s Day—I was too busy thinking about the snow that day, and whether I’d have the day off from work, and whether my sister would make it to North Carolina for her swim meet. (She didn’t; she got stuck at Logan for twelve hours before her flight was cancelled and she had to take a train to DC and a bus to Chapel Hill.) And given the second word in my blog title, I had no reason to remember V-Day.

It’s easier being single on Valentine’s Day when you’re not in college and don’t have to see couples everywhere. But it got me thinking about some things with relationships.

I’ve never done online dating (although I’m not ruling it out for some point in the future), but I remember reading this article where the author talked about how being able to sort profiles by the characteristics you want in a partner has influenced people’s choosiness even in dating situations that begin in the 3-D world. She mentioned a friend whose date completely wrote him off upon finding out that he had a roommate. And while it’s good to be picky, casting a guy aside for something like that is ridiculous. There’s no formula for the perfect guy. Sometimes people who seem completely different end up forming long and happy relationships. I think really sometimes all it takes are one or two important, essential things that you have in common to make a relationship work.

Now, I definitely have standards and ideal qualities that I look for. When it comes to intangibles, the guy I end up with has to be kind, patient, happy, a good listener, and a good friend. Ideally, he loves his family, is good with kids, has a beautiful smile, reads a lot, and can sing. And hopefully we agree on politics, religion, and baseball.

But what about the deal-breakers? Most of the things I want in a guy are things that I could, conceivably, live without. But there are a few things on which I’m absolutely inflexible.

I won’t date a guy who smokes, period. I won’t date a guy who does drugs, even pot. I won’t date an alcoholic. I won’t date anyone with any kind of mental issues he hasn’t worked through (which may sound harsh, but I’ve seen firsthand that people who haven’t gotten their shit together are in no way ready for relationships). If he’s a Yankee fan, he better be absolutely perfect in every other way (kidding…I think).

And one more thing. I absolutely refuse to date a music snob.

I’m serious. Music snobs piss me off beyond all reason. I cannot stand people who get self-righteous about their taste in music—which, unfortunately, is true of a lot of people.

I don’t know why it’s just music. People don’t usually think less of you if you watch stupid reality shows or cheesy horror movies. But if you listen to popular music, or anything that doesn’t fit into a music snob’s narrow window of what’s acceptable, there are people who will actually judge you as a person.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I do understand the concept of guilty pleasures. Have you seen the favorite music listed under my blogger profile? I’m well aware that much of it is uncool, like most things about me. But there’s a big difference between good-natured teasing about someone’s musical tastes and actually looking down on someone for that reason.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what separates music snobs from the rest of us, and this is what I came up with. First of all, for the most part, music snobs hate anything popular. If it’s on the radio, it’s crap. If it’s in the top 40, they won’t touch it with the giant poking device from Friends. And if it’s making money, well, God forbid.

Now, to some extent, I can understand this. I don’t like a lot of the music currently dominating the charts, and it’s true that much of pop music is overproduced and overplayed (although if I like a song, I like it no matter how many times I hear it). But popular does not equal evil. The amazing thing is that a lot of times, if an obscure band becomes popular, music snobs will abandon it. That makes absolutely no sense to me. Shouldn’t they be happy that people are listening to music they like? But they’re usually not. They’re upset that the stupid masses are ruining their favorite band, and that the band will become uncool by association, which is such crap. I think that music snobs really revel in being contrary. They’re like people who purposely don’t root for the home team for no reason other than being different.

Another thing about music snobs is that they’re excessively concerned with genre. “Oh, Band A are such posers. They’re so not punk.” “Band B is not indie! Stop calling them that!” Ugh.

Genres have always confused me, particularly genres of rock. I took a quiz once called “What Genre of Rock Are You?” and honestly, I don’t get what distinguishes one genre from another. Why does it even matter? I know that it’s human nature to categorize, but when I listen to a song, I don’t analyze it to death or try to figure out what category to put it in. All I think about is whether I liked the song or not.

Actually, maybe this is my whole issue with music snobs to begin with. I don’t really analyze music—I just think about whether or not I liked it. With a movie or a book, I can usually tell you exactly what I like or don’t like about it. With a song, sometimes I can tell you what it is about it that appeals or doesn’t appeal to me, but more often than not, I can’t. I like it or I don’t. And maybe that’s why it doesn’t make sense to me that some people are so dead-set on what’s good music and what’s not. I often can’t explain why a certain song appeals to me, so it offends me when someone tells me that it shouldn’t.

Finally, music snobs take their opinions as gospel. “So-and-so is the best bassist of all time. Everyone knows that.” “Band X is crap and Band Y are gods.” And they make a big deal over who “started” such and such a music trend. They’re like preschoolers whining, “He started it!” They get all wrapped up in how Band A influenced Band B. Aside from the fact that Band B may very well have improved what Band A started, who really cares? Similarly, who cares who writes the music as long as you like it? I really don’t see how who wrote the music is relevant. Even a lot of artists who write their own music don’t draw from real life, so I don’t get that argument.

The truth is that music snobs are like the popular girls in sixth grade who, if they didn’t like my outfit, would say, “Katie, why are you wearing that?” That may sound a little harsh, but I think it’s true.

The ironic thing about music snobs is that they want you to believe that they love music. But loving music doesn’t, in my opinion, mean constantly insulting it. It means being open to all types of music. It means being open to the ideas that happy, poppy songs can put you in a good mood even if they don’t make you think, that sappy ballads can genuinely move you, and that even if you don’t agree with it, there is a reason why popular music is popular.

I don’t understand why people get so caught up in hating music. There’s too much good music to harp on what you don’t like. Have you seen all the music pages on Myspace? There’s a ton of music out there, and most of it is worth at least one listen. Music snobs can think what they want, but I’ll go on listening to what I like. Because despite what anyone else may think, I do love music.

Or at least, I think I do. And if you think otherwise, go find another date.

My (Belated) Love Affair With Sex and the City

For the longest time, I couldn’t stand Sex and the City, the show from which I took the quote at the top of my blog. I didn’t think it was that funny, and I though Carrie was annoying. But last summer, all of a sudden I got into it. I think I just reached a certain point in my life where I’d heard enough hookup and relationship stories that I could see people I knew in the show, and I could find it funny.

And I could see why so many other girls are into it. It’s kind of like the show for women of my generation. And why not? I know that for years, women have had to struggle against the idea of existing only to find a man, which is what this show was all about. But the truth is, women really do sit around discussing their love lives. We have careers, we have dreams, we have independence—but we still love to talk about guys. We analyze guys’ behavior, we discuss the pros and cons of different men, we debate what constitutes a deal-breaker. Some women might see it as sexist or stereotypical, but honestly, I think it’s just accurate.

It’s interesting, though, that this is the show that spawned He’s Just Not That Into You (aka my relationship BIBLE), because although that philosophy found its way into one episode, if the girls had followed the advice of Greg Behrendt, there’d be no show. Mr. Big would have been history after the first episode.

Mr. Big is also one reason why Carrie is my least favorite character. I’ve seen every episode now, and I absolutely cannot stand Big. I think he’s an arrogant, inconsiderate jackass—not to mention completely unattractive. I loved Aidan, though—he was a sweetheart who put up with way too much shit from Carrie, whom I completely lost respect for when she cheated on Aidan with Big.

But the thing is—that is realistic. There are, unfortunately, too many Carrie Bradshaws in the world, women who have an idea of what they want but don’t like it when they finally get it. Women who chase after what they can’t have when they have something great right in front of them. Women who aren’t happy in a relationship unless there’s drama, and worry when there isn’t drama. I know people like that. So do you. And I’d like to think that I would never act like that…but in reality, I can’t say for sure.

The interesting thing about Sex and the City is that we see it as both a reality and a fantasy. Over 94 episodes, four women engaged in about every relationship, dating, and sexual situation that exists. There’s no way you couldn’t see yourself or one of your friends in at least one of those situations. Plus, girls who watch the show tend to compare themselves to the four main women. I used to think I was a Charlotte, but now I think Miranda. And I definitely have friends who remind me of Carrie, Samantha, and Charlotte.

But how many of us have luxury apartments in Manhattan and clothes right off the runway? How many of us have jobs like Carrie’s that only require one column a week, leaving us free to walk around the city all day? How many of us manage to go out with our friends every weekend? How many of us have the chance to meet the sheer number of guys on the show, let alone date them? Every time I watch this show, I want to be a rich New Yorker, and I suspect I’m not the only one.

But it’s a fantasy in other ways, too. Take, for instance, Samantha, who, according to Carrie, “had the kind of deluded self-confidence that caused men like Ross Perot to run for president, and it usually got her what she wanted.” In nearly every episode, Samantha sees a man she’s never met, decides she wants him, and goes after him, almost always successfully. We’ve all wanted to be in that situation, but how many of us actually have the self-confidence to do it?

We see ourselves in the Sex and the City characters, but we also see what we wish we could be. We see the lifestyle we dream about having but probably never will. And even though in reality, he’s probably just not that into us, we still hold onto that hope that in the end, we’ll ask him to come up, and he’ll smile, and his answer will ring in our ears forever: “Abso-fuckin’-lutely.”