Man…..I need a Manfriend!

Not to date, NOT to potentially diss, but to befriend…

Consider my recent smackdown with my girlfriends this past week.  I lectured, “You know what, we need guy friends!  Enough of this dating crap, let’s just try and be friends first.”

They looked at me as if I said, “For lent, I‘m giving up moisturizer and lip gloss!”

Here’s the skinny…I’m sick of  “yaying” or “naying” someone after a one-hour date.  Sure, sometimes I immediately sense disaster – or – delight.   But 50% of the time I simply classify the date as a cross between “dull” and “not-so-dull….”  Then like clockwork, the cartoon cloud over my head pops up with that oh-so-familiar conversation.  “Do I like him?  Well, he was nice ENOUGH. Should I text him back?  He looked weird in that shirt.  Maybe he didn’t know he had food in his teeth?  I think he’s too old.  Maybe it was the lighting?”

I’ve decided DIFFICULT is the nice “alternative” 4 letter word for dating in your 30s.  We don’t live in the la-la land of single people anymore.   We’re the minority – at the office -at the gym – and definitely at church.  Gone are the days of living in a town called Singledom (filled with rampant 20 something yr-olds) where 100% of the population is…..SINGLE and available.  It used to be EASY to get to know guys through college courses, friends, groups, the bars – because you saw those peeps on a regular basis and grasped their personalities.  You also witnessed them at their worst – and best – and in the end, some grew on you – and some didn’t.  Nowadays – we’re just forced to sit and stare at someone for one hour – then judge.  And I hate that.

So hence my recent belated New Year’s resolution to make more “guy friends” in 2010.    Maybe we can be friends first, and something else later?  But not until much later.  (Like maybe when I know you’re not a psycho)  This brings up the old When Harry Met Sally question….”Can men and women be friends without the sex part getting in the way???”   Hmmm…  Personally, I think men and women CAN be friends — with both parties thinking about shacking up — but it never really happening.   For instance, late one night, I was sharing a cab ride home with one of my guyfriends after drinking a few tooooo many brewskies.  Out of nowhere my friend Sam deviously whispered, “Come on…come home with me.  No one ever has to know.”  (Yeah, no one except me!! I thought)  I quickly threw some money at the cab driver…and giggled myself to sleep that night…flattered, but happy I hopped out of the cab pronto.

On the flip side, often “manfriends” transform into great boyfriends.  The sparks fly because you’re already comfortable with that person.  You’ve already accepted their baggage, and they’ve hopefully forgotten yours.  But once you blur the line of intimacy…it’s hard to erase history.  The switcharoo usually ends fairly simple – in marriage – or heartbreak.  And things are just never the same.

Overall, guy friends remind me good guys STILL exist.  We need them – just like they need us.  I need a man to tell me I look smashing every now and then.  And they need us – to tell them what to buy at Banana Republic – and oh-my-goodness…get rid of that friggin’ unibrow!!

So yes, if I tell you, “Let’s just be friends…” I really mean it…especially in the next few months.  And I don’t mean the booty call kind.

Signed,

wingwoman searching for attractive wingman

Boring Women Have Clean Houses

A guy who I recently dated confessed to me once, “My mother always told me – Only BORING women have clean houses.”

Imagine my inner glee upon hearing these profound words.  I secretly prayed, “Thank you Baby Jesus, someone finally understands me.”

I guess deep down – his point was…”Why clean your house when you can spend time having fun?”

Not that I’m a slob…far from it.  But let’s just say…there’s mucho more important things in my life than working hard to shine the bathroom toilet with my old Oral B.  Hhhmmm…things LIKE:  working at my job, working on my inner self, working on my outer self (specifically butt and legs), working to find the cheapest happy hours in town, working to find the most available men in town, working to make new friends, working to keep the old ones, working on that promotion, working to eat healthy, working on my snow skiing form, working to stay mentally fit, working to stay emtionally sound, working on my blog, working to spend money, working on saving money, working to keep my parents happy, working to keep my pets content….

Oh my goodness…I’m exhausted just typing all that crap.  (And I’m only a SINGLE person!)  How do you married peeps with kids keep your own show running and on the air?

Somedays I have NO idea how I juggle everything.  Then I glance around and see the growing “volcano” of clothes on my bedroom chair, the “tumbleweed” of dog hair rolling through the hallway, and the stacks of recycling resembling a Jenga puzzle.  And I haven’t even mentioned the laundry that’s been stashed in the dryer for nine days….(did I even turn ON the dryer??)

Good lord…how did I get so busy?  It snuck up on my quicker than my 30s.  I forgot I’m supposed to be superwoman….work full-time, scrub like Mr. Clean, then throw on a pair of heels, and appear mesmerizing to my “date of the night.”

In an effort to maximize time, women, including my girlfriends, have tried everything to accomplish the following mantra — “I need an orderly house to live an orderly life.”  My friend Lacey planned her life for awhile using an excel spreadsheet – with color coding!  I decided to toss that idea considering I would have to “work” on my excel skills before take-off, thus sucking away more valuable minutes.

Another galfriend, Suzanna, bought the Roomba robot vacuum.  She left work hoping for a mini daytime miracle.  Ended up, Roomba was taking breaks on the job, and could barely suck anything up.  Roomba ended up in the next garage sale – looking for a new mommy.

And then there’s me.  Six months ago, I decided to have groceries delivered to my front door on a regular basis.  Every Friday morning, the milk man from Royal Crest Dairy (just like in Leave it to Beaver) leaves me fresh milk, butter, and eggs on my porch.  And every other Wednesday, courtesy of Door to Door Organics, I arrive home to find a box of yummy organic fruits and veggies waiting to take shelter in my fridge.  I’m not high maintenance…I’m simply trying to maintain my sanity as a professional 30-somethin’ single gal.

Gone are my days of spending hours at Safeway, cruising the aisles – only to lug milk jugs, egg cartons, and 40-ton bags of apples to the car in 10 degree temperatures.  (You’ve been there.)  Distant are my days of balancing five plastic bags at once while grasping house keys, struggling up two flights of stairs, and talking on my cell phone.  (Sound familiar?)

So how much time does this save??  I estimate at LEAST three hours a week.  And my grocery bill remains the same.  It’s a win-win for moi-moi….a godsend at times – especially when I work late or “play late.”

So…what do I do with that “saved time?”  Hmmm……good question.

Well, when push comes to shove….I sure as heck don’t use it to push a vacuum.  What fun would that be?

Ski First, Date Later?

This weekend, I am faced with a potentially catastrophic dating decision:

A.  Ski two days in the beautiful Rocky Mountains with separate groups of friends

- OR -

B.  Go out with a hot guy on Saturday night

To you “non-snow skiers” out there….go ahead and QUIT reading this post.  You won’t get it.  You’ll probably think I’m TOO fickle, finicky, or fanatical.  I’m over it, OK?

That's moi!

“Why can’t you do both?” you may ask…  Well, the answer – it’s simple.  This particular hot date DOESN’T ski or snowboard.  (I desperately wish he did.)  So, I am left leaving to choose….Powder-time – OR – Play-time?  Hmmm….which one will make me happier?

Some backstory here before you start judging:  During the week, I work in a “bomb shelter” – filled to the brim with video editing equipment, exciting gray cubes, flattering florescent lights, and glossy computer monitors.  I love my job, but let’s BE REAL people!  I’m aching for sunlight, gusty winds, the smell of sunblock on my face, and the taste of an “apres ski” beer on my lips.  I need a revival.  Especially after the last three weeks of never-getting-a-lunch-break-because-I’ve-been-so-damn-busy-trying-to-prove-myself.  Phew…

My nail-biting dilemma may sound trite….but it begs the bigger question — As we get older, WHAT are we willing to give up?  What are we willing to COMPROMISE?  I’m realizing as we hit our mid-30s – NOT MUCH.  Is this good or bad?  I don’t know.

What I DO know…the thought of forking over my coveted powder-filled Saturday and Sunday for a man-date – leaves me deflated and dull.  I’d rather choose the sure bet to happiness.  I moved to Colorado to ski – it’s one of my passions.  And I refuse to toss it aside for a make-out session and dinner (although that’s enticing.)

With snow skiing – I feel fulfilled, on top of the world – escapism at its best.

Going on a date – I could end up unfulfilled, at the bottom of the barrel, secretly wanting to escape.  Argh…

In the meantime…I’m counting down the hours til I load my gear, head west, and anticipate that first jaunt off the lift.

Yes, I know Valentine’s Day is two weeks away… I know 40 is roughly five years away… But for now, I’m choosing the mini-vacation over THE GUY.

My hopes – someday I won’t have to compromise.  Someday I can choose “C” and get “All of the above.”

Announcing my 1040 EZ Dating Questionnaire

In honor of tax season, I developed my own 1040 EZ Dating Questionnaire for all potential man-dates. I’ve decided this tax time – it’s time to cut to the chase with Denver men…Uncle Sams included.  I want to know up front – how many deductions I may face in the future.

My plan: to utilize the EZ form to weed out potential players, married dudes, and average losers…in the hopes of someday filing JOINTLY before I turn 40.  The 1040 Long Form is in the works, but for now I’m relying on this EZ method for some BIG returns.

So far my questions for prospects “out on the town” include:

1. Are you really single…or are you just playing THAT in your dream tonight?
2.  Is that your real hair?  Is that your real hair color?
3.  Do you have kids? If so…..do they behave?…….If not….do they live in another state?
4.  Is your mother by any chance………..a mute?
5.  Do the words “swiffer”…“dyson”…or “oxiclean” ring a bell? (R.I.P. Billy Mays)
6.  How long have you been OFF the Kevin Federline “Pizza, Pot, and Beer” diet?
7.  Can you please empty your pockets? And while you’re at it, show me your driver’s license, divorce decree, current proof of medical insurance, and Banana Republic credit card.
8.  Do you know how to boil an egg? What about water?
9.  Are you currently using an anti-wrinkle daily moisturizer with SPF 30? (cuz lets face it, you’re closer to 40 than I am.)
10.  You do know that unibrows will NEVER be in style, right?  RIGHT?

And for the bonus round…

*When is the last time you cleaned your bathtub? (Please provide date and approximate scrubbing duration time.)

*This post was absolutely NOT brought to you by TurboTax, H and R Block, or Just for Men.

Men are like Crockpots, Women like Woks

Cooking — an american institution for the sexes.  Who knew the pots and pans of today – could clearly define a generation of men and women?  Here’s my theory (after dishing dozens of meals and wandering aimlessly through Williams Sonoma) — Men and women resemble DIFFERENT types of cookware.

A man mirrors a crockpot.  He comes in 3 settings: OFF, LOW, and HIGH. Ironically, many guys also share the same stature and physique of the infamous slowcooker — SHORT – STUBBY – and ROUND.  Just like a crockpot, men typically can only handle ONE thing (aka dish) at a time, preferring to spend all their energy (aka burner) on one project alone.  Keeping the recipe simple makes it easier. Add multiple ingredients to their recipe – even a few extra spices – and men are apt to boil over – sometimes quickly.  Many dudes often keep a lid on their anger…or in other words…they simmer!  This can go on for HOURS upon HOURS with no warning signs at all.  Not even a peep – or an ounce of steam.  Then out of nowhere – an overflow of burnt anger!

A woman (unlike their one-dish counterparts) resembles a wok.  We can cook 14 varieties of chopped veggies plus tofu in five minutes flat – NO TIMER NEEDED. With the flick of the wrist, we simply handle extreme temperature adjustments without breaking a sweat.  At the same time, we somehow talk on our iPhones, update our facebook status, flatiron our hair, and convince our BFFs they don’t need “what’s-his-butt.”   Fight a grease fire in our trusty “never-rusty” wok – no problem!   We’ve conquered WORSE situations at family reunions in Arkansas. Perhaps our greatest strength – is versatility using the simple asian cookware piece – or in redneck terms, “a deep fryin’ pan.”  Sauteing, stir-frying, scrambling, and steaming – all come easy – even with the challenge of keeping our eye on multiple burners.

In the end though, when the dishes are dried, and the leftovers “saran-wrapped” up  - women secretly adore America’s most dependable small appliance.  We can’t fathom life without our stable, tried-and-true crockpots. Our cabinets would seem empty.  And men – we know you love our sizzle and spice, our attempt to keep everything “nice.”  Life would be pretty boring AND bland without us.

By the way, can you pass the butter?