Pesky Cream Peddlers and Ex-Destiny

Ok. I just need y'all to know that I've been over-busy lately. I spent most of last week away (which really messes things up back at the office) - When I got back to work - it was busy. I had some volunteer things that also made me busy... so by the time Saturday at 8PM rolled around, I was happy to go sit at the bookstore and have some coffee (Seattle's Best...).

I spent most of the evening wondering why - at the beginning of November - I must listen to Andea Boccelli singing "O Holy Night," among a host of other Christmas songs. This kind of pisses me off. Here's my take: Until Santa brings up the rear of the Macy's parade, I'm not ready for Christmas. Screw the fact that I've decided to do as much of my gift buying BEFORE Thanksgiving if I can manage it... I don't want to hear "Silver Bells" just yet... I'm still eating Halloween candy.

Ok. So today, I was going to lunch with a friend. As I made my way to the restaurant, I'm happy to report yet another thing that pisses me off: Annoying Kiosk Salespeople. There's one booth in particular that sells lotion and salt scrub. It's located at the main hub of the mall - right near Ruby Tuesday's AND Cinnabon's (so you know I have to walk that way whenever I'm in the mall, which isn't all that often - so you know it's important that I get there in a hurry...).

The sales people run out to meet you - and then say, "Excuse me, may I ask you a question?"

"No thank you," I say, keeping a slightly faster pace.

"But I only have one question..."

"NO THANK YOU."

This pisses me off because I feel like mall halls are neutral. I shouldn't be badgered while in transit. (Must... get... to.... Cinnabon's....) Sometimes the pesky cream peddlers actually follow for awhile. It's actually invasive. The hall is Switzerland - I should not be harrassed while on neutral travel ground.

What I really want to explain to the guy is that I am not his victim today or any other day.... but that would mean I'd have to stop and give the PCP an opportunity to blurt his question out. Perhaps if I got a "Not Today's Victim" T-shirt made, it would solve the problem. Maybe I could just say "Get a storefront, buddy."

Ok. What I really wanted to write about was what happened at LUNCH - when my friend got annoyed...

My poor single female friend... We were discussing her on-going issues of being an 'ex. Specifically, a problematic former boy of hers who recently resurfaced after a long absence. He said hello to her.... and I asked her how she was feeling about that.

"I didn't want to talk to him... I don't think I ever really want to talk to him. It's funny," she mused. "I'm the one who broke up with him, and yet I'm still angry."

I kind of understand. I think it's the anger of dashed hopes. In my case, after breakups, I was always angry for having poor judgement. I remember the days following after I broke up with my first real boyfriend. I had a sleepless night, a horrendous day, and came home to cry... and cried my bloodshot eyes out for about thirty seconds. I remember wiping my nose, thinking "What? Oh. I'm all right..." Even though I was the one who got dumped, I couldn't help but feeling incredibly stupid for not ending things myself. "I'm dumb, dumb dumb," I chanted.

When William Congreve said, 'Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned,' he showed rare insight - except he neglected to add this: especially when that woman's scorn is aimed at herself.

Anyway, my friend was feeling crappy. She's absolutely beautiful, intelligent - and fun. She's just feeling unlucky in love - and I can tell she's getting tired of it - because the rants didn't stop there.

"Did you know Joe's getting married? Can you believe that?" (Joe is another -ex... He followed her around for years after they broke up... He apparently only recently let go - and got engaged rather quickly.)

She explained she was annoyed because for all the weird behavior he'd exhibited, he's getting married. And that's what my friend wants to be - and it's unfair it's happening for him - and not her. She then admitted to something horrible - yet so very very honest, I was sort of touched. "When I see married couples having marital problems, I'm actually kind of glad. It makes me feel like I'm not the only one suffering... That it's hard on the other side too."

Unfortunately, I have no corner on justice - or I'd single handedly leap up, pull out my SuperKell Cape, fly through the mall... Find her soulmate, and keel haul him back to Ruby Tuesdays. The only trouble is - in the time it would take me to find Mr. Perfect O'Perfect, her -ex might saunter into the restaurant - and schedule his new wife's baby shower. So in solidarity, I'll just listen as best as I can.

I'm so sad for my friend... Because she knows that her life is pretty good... It's just not what she envisioned.

I'm telling you, there's nothing worse than dashed hopes. Just ask the pesky cream peddler - upon watching me walk away from him.

This is No PRESENT!

I think it's only the single people that really notice just how married the general population is... Look, I know there are benefits of legal partnerships, but give me a break - and give the single girls some credit. We know a few things - and sometimes, if you can believe it - we're even happy.

Tonight, I went out for coffee with a friend I don't see very much. We mostly discussed relationships of sorts... How our friend got married and had a small heart attack because some aspect of the wedding wasn't according to her personal Hoyle... We discussed her cousin - coincidentally, an ex-boyfriend of my sister's... who is a really nice man with a really deep-seeded problem with anger... He's cute, so he gets a lot of dates... But he's got issues, so he gets his heart broken a lot. We talked about my friend's last date - who scared her because he was interested in instant matrimony...We talked about my friend's sister and brother-in-law, their new baby, and their idea of an excellent Birthday gift.

They gave my friend a one-year's subscription to E-Harmony.

Think about that for a minute. "Happy Birthday! I want you to be as happy as I am - in the way that I've chosen - so to do that, here's a coupon for the L-U-V!"

I've noticed that many married people - more specifically - many people in general - try to create the rest of us in their own image. Where I know they mean well, sometimes the road to Hell really IS paved with good intentions. Since my friend is gracious and kind (much more so than I), I decided to glaze over the gaul of such a gift.

"So how's that going?"

For my friend, E-Harmony has been a lesson in tolerance, patience, and fact-finding. She recounted several stories of the difficulties she's faced with the site, including the seventeen mile long profile survey she had to endure at the beginning.

"Um, you know I'm really not racist, right?"

It's true. I have never known this woman to be racist. In fact, she barely says a negative word about anyone (including her family, who gave her a gift certificate to E-Harmony for her birthday... I'm still not over this, as you can tell.)

"I know...."

"Well, one match came from my town... In the profile, he said he was white. But in his photo - he was definitely not white..." (note: this is not a comment on anything other than false testimony - so please just think of this in the context of the story)

I made a face, "That's hard to hide..."

"Yeah, I'm not really into E-Harmony."

Where it was probably a typo, I definitely see her point. On one hand, finding out your Next Destiny is untruthful before you actually meet in person is kind of reassuring... On the other hand, discovering any untruth is no picnic.

I remember one Christmas, years ago, when my older sister (the same one who dated my friend's cousin) decided she was going to make these unpainted dowel dolls for my nephews and neice. My oldest nephew, then maybe 7, tore open the package, held up the dowel-doll (seriously - it was made of dowels and connectors.) and exclaimed, "What? This is no PRESENT!!!"

Oh if only we could say that at our age!

The Blissful Oldlyweds

NOTE: Here I go again - talking about faith issues. My beef isn't with faith, hope, charity, love, forgiveness or righteousness.... It's about Christians (I can hear HP chanting, Preach it, sistah!)

More specifically, it's about Christians who want to make other Christians in their own image... Ok, I'll shut up about it and just tell the story.

At a recent church social, I found my near 30 friend "Tina" near tears. "What's the matter?"

"Oh," she began, "Another married guy came up to me and said, 'If I were only single I'd ask you out!' - It just hit me the wrong way - I'm wondering why jerks like him get husbands and I don't.... Bob and Lisa want to pray with me."

The hair on the back of my unwed neck stood on end. Single women should never, as a rule, let married people pray for them in the event they're unhappy with their singleness. It just gives the blissful oldlyweds something to misinterpret...

"I'm coming too," I said as I ran to catch up.

Once inside the prayer area (a storage closet), Tina repeated her story. I looked at Bob, his eyes full of pity and sympathy (note I did not say empathy. I'm pretty sure Bob has been married since he was 12. He's normally an empathetic man - but he was clearly out of his league.)

"Dear Lord," he began - and then prayed that Tina would know the man of her dreams was out there... that she would be patient and understanding...

Screw that, is what I say.

I prayed, "Lord, help Tina remeber that she's not a second rate citizen, is a whole person, and that there's nothing wrong with her. Help her understand that she's not too picky - but just picky enough. Amen."

Sheesh.

The next day, I wrote Bob an e-mail telling him that being single at my church is a difficult, if not ridiculous thing to be... That I want a buck for every blissful oldlywed who approaches me and says one of the following things:

"Kell, you're so smart and talented. Why aren't you married?"

"Kell, you're just too picky."

"Kell, when you want me to stop praying for a husband for you - you just come up and tell me so..."

"Kell, do you ever think you could just settle down and love one man?"

"Kell, meet Gary. He's single too!"

"Kell, I know you live in America, but I have a friend who lives in Russia who's visiting - and since I know you like travel, why don't you come to dinner and meet him?"

"Kell - are you gay? If you are, it's okay..."

"Kell, you look good... My wife also looked good 40 pounds ago..."

"Kell, I'm sorry I didn't say hello to you the other day. My wife gets angry at me when I talk to you..."

"Maybe God will bless you with children some day..."

Bob simply laughed at me - which is distressing, as where the above comments are kind of funny en masse - they didn't feel all that great at the time they were delivered.

Why isn't Bob reminded that Jesus (regardless of what the DaVinci Code says) was single? Paul was single? Blissful unweddeds throughout the centuries - with the exact same amount of baggage as the dis-blissful divorcees, (un)happy oldlyweds, and transient migrant workers - have fallen in and out of love, made a difference in their worlds, and even survived people who said idiotic things like, "Hey. Tina's still single. She must have baggage. What's wrong with her?"

I once pondered making t-shirts with slogans that say things like "No, I'm not interested in your husband," or "Less Baggage than the average Bear..." or something like that.

What's wrong with the blissful oldlyweds? It seems to me that they, of all people, should understand that everyone is not exactly like them...

So hang in there, Tina! We love you just the way you are.

Date Night

Last night, my friend Naomi and I held a "get to know you" dinner for our single friends Don and Anne. You may remember me discussing my reticence about this, but we did it anyway.

To report, the evening seemed to go fine - everyone got along, the food was excellent...

I was to bring dessert... Since Naomi and her husband like poker, I thought it would be funny to make cookie poker chips... I was kind of in a rush, so my poker chips weren't very uniform. I was trying hard not to have to roll out dough and do cut outs... I hate cutouts. I thought I'd be clever and make dough-logs and slice my way into cookie poker chip heaven... But the slices weren't even. The truth of the matter is - I'm pretty crappy with knives. I am fairly certain that I couldn't cut an attractive looking carrot stick with a table saw... So the poker chip cookies looked kind of... non circular... All because of my laziness and unwillingness to sit in my kitchen for an entire evening.

I went to my favorite bakery and got a pumpkin roll instead.

Anne, on the other hand, made appetizers that could have been featured in Martha Stewart Living. Anne rocks.

By the time Don arrived, we were all happy to sit down and eat. (We ordered Chinese. It's like an instant dinner party - I heartily recommend it) We discussed The Patriot Act - and how it's funny that after September 11th, the main thing the Federal Government did was to federalize the airport baggage handling - Na's husband noted that the problems we had with homeland security were largely the I.N.S. - and letting people into the country that shouldn't be here... about letting the wrong people remain in the country without proper Visa's (note: issuing a visa to a known dead terrorist) - and not the baggage handlers. Not to get off on a tangent.

When we were through discussing politics, we talked about our holiday plans - how Naomi and her husband bought gifts for orphaned kids at a local shelter... About celebrating with multiple friends - about Chaunukah and Christmas... Then, we were forced to play poker.

David hates cards. He was trying very hard to put a positive spin on poker, but deep down, he hates it - and as hard as I tried to get out of it, we were swept into the library to play poker with non-edible poker chips. Dave bet himself out of the game early.... And when I tried to do the same, I'd win the hand. I had an Ace and a Three. I watched the hand through the river and had nothing... Na's husband (BTW, his name is also David, so to avoid confusion, I'm not using his name... I'm not being secretive!) kept betting high. I knew he was bluffing. My pride would not let me out of this... Sure enough, he had a Queen and a three... So I took the pot, and the game was prolonged...

Dave persevered. Next time, though, he probably won't go over there, unless we're eating, playing music, and watching "So I Married An Ax Murderer," which is one of the funniest things on celluloid.

Anne invited Dave, Don and me to her house next Thursday. Will it be a budding romance - or a royal flush? Place your bets, and stay tuned.

The Pitfalls of Singlehood and Dating

This weekend posed some interesting and familiar scenarios. I'll start with Saturday Night.

I had my band over for dinner (minus Scott, whose family showed up later than he expected). I also invited a few other friends, Karen (friend who went to the same college as I; we didn't know each other in school, but met at an alumni event in Philadelphia years later.), my friend Naomi, HER friend Anne (who was there to see if she liked Fran or not... She didn't), and our friend and fellow musician, Don (who may be "famous" soon).

We had a great time. I had nine different microbrews, two kinds of chili, and one fabulous cake, shaped like a snowman. When we cut into it, we discovered it was about 60% buttercream frosting and %40 cake... Now that's a party!

Through the course of the evening, it was fun to watch Don and Anne talk. It wasn't flirty, but familiar. They behaved as if they were old friends who'd known each other for years. Hmmmm.

I leaned over to Dave and whispered, 'What do you think about Anne and Don?' He looked at me as if I were nuts and said, "I*Don't*Know!" However, Naomi DID know. After the party, Naomi called and said, "What do you think about Anne and Don?" I answered, "I know! I know!" Nay and I immediately nailed up our "Matchmaker" shingle ("The Single Shingle?!") and plotted our next gathering. I figured I'd e-mail Don on Monday.

On Sunday, I went to church. After the service, I found my single (and absolutely beautiful) friend Becky in near tears. I asked what happened. She explained that once again, some old coot from the congregation, thinking it was a compliment, said the following to her: "If I were thirty years younger, I'd scoop you up and fly away..." or something to that effect. I immediately knew what was wrong.

My church is a great place. Honest. What I'm about to say will make it sound horrible - but keep in mind that it's just one aspect of a place I spend a lot of time in, have amazing friends in, etc... The downfall is, it's a real "family" church. Most of the congregation is either married, engaged, or the children of married (and engaged) people. It's no place for singles. Really. Here are a few comments I've received over the years. I call this list the "Just Cause You're Saved Doesn't Mean You're Not a Jerk" List (Part IV):

Married Man: Kelly, If I were only single, I'd marry you!
Married Man 2: Kelly, I'm sorry I blew you off the other day. My wife said I wasn't allowed to talk to you."
Old Married Man: (after telling him he had a lovely wife) Yeah, she was something else thirty pounds ago.
'Nother Married Man: Kelly, You're so smart and so talented... Why aren't you married?
Single Man: I'll let you go ahead of me, Kelly, since you're a member of the weaker sex. (I'm not kidding. someone actually said that to me)
Single Man Who Stood Me Up: I'm through apologizing, Kelly. I'm free in Christ. (He's now free from me, too!)
Single Woman (who confused me with another Kelly in the congregation. That one has four kids): Oh, Maybe God will bless you someday with kids...

Stuff like this makes my eyes roll so far, I have to retrieve them in Manhattan... So I understand what Becky was going through. She said she needed some people to pray for her - so she found a married couple who'd been married since they were maybe like eleven... "God Give Becky the desires of her heart..." To heck with the desires of her heart... I prayed that she wouldn't take it personally - that she wouldn't feel like half a person, and she'd remember that her value as a human being wasn't tied up in someone else's Fairytale ending... Then I reminded her that she was absolutely not too picky. Then, I looked at her and said very seriously, "You need cake!" She came to my house and had lunch, sufficiently cheering her up with the buttercream remains of Frosty the Frosting Cake.

On Monday, I e-mailed Don. I told him, "No pressure, but if you like Anne, chances are good she'd have dinner with you. At the end of the day, after several e-mails, Don called me. He seemed so flattered and so excited that Anne thought well of him. I thought it was really cute, and pondered a future career in matchmaking (with an extremely limited and high-end clientele)...

Before I get any further, let me tell you about Anne. She's single, has a great career, has a great sense of style, she's funny, she's gracious, she drives a drool-inducing car, and is Doris Day beautiful.

Ok. Don asked me how I knew Anne. I explained that Naomi is a Personal Trainer and Anne was a client. Then Don ceased being cute: "Well, do you know what kind of shape she was in before she had personal training?"

Now, if Don looked like Robert Redford, I may have felt an iota better about what he just said... But he doesn't. He's fine looking - but unlike my beautiful friend Becky, I honestly don't think he has that kind of time.

Dave says I should cancel any more matchmaking plans between Don and Anne. I definitely won't set him up with Becky... If he can be that picky, so can she.

For some, being single and over thirty can be devastating - and to others, a ridiculous excuse to be over-vain. The real pitfall of singlehood and dating is that until we know the real story, it's hard to tell the difference between those who are beautiful on the inside and out - and those who may simply be okay looking on the outside.

The Sacred Girl Book

Audrey sent me an article from the October 30th NY Times. Columnist Maureen Dowd, getting in touch with her inner Bradshaw, wrote an article entitled What's a Modern Girl To Do? In it, she dishes on the truth about men and women. "Little did I realize that the feminist revolution would have the unexpected consequence of intensifying the confusion between the sexes, leaving women in a tangle of dependence and independence as they entered the 21st century."

She goes on to explain what took Sex & The City six years to uncover: that even though women can have it all – there is a certain percentage of men out there who aren’t going to like it – and might pass over “the smart ones” – executives, lawyers, doctors, (gasp!) video producers – for the ‘more genteel’ and womanly careers of stewardess and secretary.

She outlines the schemes women must engage in on the hunt for the perfect man, all the while showing off our independence and our sexuality. Some of them include staying busy and important… landing the cover of Maxim… or pretending we can’t be bothered. One of Dowd’s revelations made me quite angry – not because it wasn’t true… I think she simply let the cat out of the bag:

She divulged one of the secrets of the sacred Girl Book. And I think she needs to know I find her guilty of high female treason.

She writes: "Throughout the long, dark ages of undisputed patriarchy, women connived to trade beauty and sex for affluence and status. In the first flush of feminism, women offered to pay half the check with “woman money” as a way to show these crass calculations – that a woman’s worth in society was determined by her looks, that she was an ornament up for sale to the highest bidder – no longer applied…

...After Googling and Bikramming to get ready for a first dinner date, a modern girl will end the evening with an Offering, an insincere bid to help pay the check. “They make like they are heading into their bag after a meal, but it is a dodge,” Marc Santora, a 30-year-old Metro reporter for the Times, says, 'They know you will stop them before a credit card can be drawn. If you don’t, they hold it against you.'"

First of all, shame on Ms. Dowd for quoting a male reporter in a lame effort to legitimize her treachery!

Secondly, how dare she rat me out! I’ve been using that particular trick for years. I always offer to help with the bill, but rarely have to - and should only have to if I did the asking. If you are a man, and you are reading this, then Yes! I’ve done this to you – but it’s a secret. It’s page two of the Girl Book, and it’s sacred.

Look. What she said is absolutely true. I’m not arguing. The times when I got stuck and the man across the table actually looked at the bill and said, “Oh, um… Your half is $47.65 plus tip…” I was pissed.

The only thing men need to know is this: If you (the guy) ask a woman out to dinner – even if you’re just friends, then you (the guy) pay. I repeat: if you ask, you pay. Simple. Don’t look for our tricks. Don’t think we’re cheap. We’ve learned certain reliable measures in our searches for the perfect man, and this is one of them.

That’s the hidden truth behind Ms. Dowd's traitorous revelation…

As a footnote, we ladies certainly have logical reasons for making The Offering - but telling you that information would break the Girl Book Vow of Mystery and Perogative. Don't even bother trying to worm this information out of me. My lips are sealed.

If you really wanna know, maybe a certain NY Times columnist will fill you in.

And Guys? If you ever meet Maureen Dowd, go ahead - Ask her out – but know that she’s the Desperate Housewife character we may love to watch, but shouldn’t trust. Let me put it to you this way: If she can divulge secrets from the sacred Girl Book – what won’t she mind divulging about YOU?