Dating Houdini

You're reaching for the cinnamon to flavor your frozen no-whip soy caramel mochachocolatte when you meet eyes with the most beautifullest, good-lookingest person you've seen in a long time. They smile, you smile back and you know that an angel just got their wings for crossing your paths. I don't need to bore you with details of how you exchanged numbers, etc. as we all know this is a make believe kind of story - no one actually meets in real life. However, because I like to take a little creative license, let's just pretend this could happen for real. (It will be our little secret that you met through a blog for Chili Cheese Frito Lay chip lovers.)

So you and your new boo thang are having the best time getting to know each other. There's lots of laughter, flirty texts, fun dates, sweet kisses - you. are. having. a. ball. You have plenty in common; how many people do you know who can quote the very special Hennifer Lopez episode of South Park? Exactly, just you and that one friend who's kind of a weirdo (too). They like tacos, you like tacos! You love Wheezer, they know who (or what?) Wheezer is! Pretty soon, you're meeting each other's friends, planning weekends away, farting in front of each other...everything is sunshine and mermaid songs. And then it happens. Something so shocking, so unimaginable, that when it happens, you feel like you got sucker punched in the gut.

They disappear.

This person who's heard you fart* and with whom you spent several weekends perusing collections of antique catcher's masks and umpire whistles has disappeared. You became addicted to New Girl because they made you watch it every Tuesday (I mean, Winston is pretty hilarious)! You gave up bacon for 5 days because they were doing that cleanse (5 WHOLE DAYS)! You kept rocking your faux-hawk because they thought it was sexy! Most importantly, you let them meet your friends! And just as quickly as you started dating, you stop. The mermaid songs are but a faint memory of the glorious (and unexpectedly short) amount of time you spent together.

What's most frustrating is that it's such a stealth and gradual process, you don't even see it coming. There are subtle clues in which you might pick up on something, but they are so slight, you can easily dismiss it. You may also sound crazy if you were to bring it up. Maybe they aren't texting you as much. Maybe they didn't respond to that last email you sent with the link about Solange having Jay-Z's baby (I'm kidding, please don't kill me Illuminati). Perhaps they canceled your last date and oops, forgot to reschedule. On their own, these little shifts are nothing. People get busy and you most certainly don't want a boo bear who is up under you all the time. It's the collective of these behavioral changes that are troublesome.

Being that you're an adult, you feel it's immature to bring these seemingly benign-yet-noteworthy shifts to their attention via text. Unfortunately, it's become virtually impossible to get them in person or even on the phone. "Sugar grits, I'm so busy at work, it's been crazy! Let's connect soon though." "Honey baby sexy muffin, I'm so sorry we seen each other, but my dad's favorite second cousin Lenny is in town and I haven't seen him in 2 months. Rain check?" Before you know it, it's been 3 weeks since your last date.

You can't help but feel some kind of way. Confused? Angry? Sad? Frustrated? Disappointed? Yes, yes, yes, yes and hell yes. While you may not have dated long enough to make it to coupledom, enough time has passed for you to develop some feelings for them. For heaven sakes, you told them about your beanie baby collection (you weren't quite at the showing-it-to-them stage) and made them a macaroni necklace! At the very least, they should have the decency to acknowledge their disappearing act even if they can't/won't explain it.

That, my friends, is the difference between being an adult and being a damaged, insecure, cowardly kid (a.k.a. a DICK). It's being courageous enough to take responsibility for your feelings and behavior while recognizing how it impacts another person. There's no denying that it's not a fun or easy conversation to have - rejecting someone can be almost (I said almost) as painful as being rejected, especially if it's someone you care about and don't want to hurt. Moreover, you are also saving them from the pain of trying to figure out what happened and what they could have done differently. (Was it too soon for the macaroni necklace?) While it may not be a less hurtful and disappointing experience for them, it takes some of the sting out of being rejected and makes the healing process happen faster. Maybe they'll learn a thing or two about themselves as well.

And maybe, just maybe, they won't feel compelled to write a blog about how you presto-changoed into a DICK.

*Although similar events to those described in this blog may or may not have happened to me in the past week, I'd like to state for the record I did not fart in front of anyone. I am a shy farter.

The Disappearing Friend

The first time it happened, you had no idea what to expect. You knew things would change; they had been changing gradually over time, but there was no way you could truly prepare for what was ahead. You didn't know that it would be an ending - no more impromptu dinners, no more last-minute happy hours, no more vacations together. You couldn't have predicted that you would be replaced; after all, you and this other person get along really well and you've enjoyed their company. While there are millions of books about how to do just about anything, there isn't a book for this. So when you get the news, you're absolutely overjoyed.

Your close/best friend is getting married!

That's great and amazing especially since their boo is really a great person for them and they are great people and when people are a couple of them...it's fabulous. Since you are a close/best friend, it's even fabulouser because you get to be in their wedding. That's always fun (the first time around)! Not to mention the bachelor/ette party! It's going to a be a good time and once they're married, everything will be how it's supposed to be - you (single) + bestie (married) + bff's spouse = one big happy family. And if they have some babies...an even bigger, happier family. Yay!

At least that's how it looks in your imagination.

When they were dating, you noticed that some things had changed between you and your friend. They didn't have nearly as much free time and they started a lot of their sentences with "we". The annual friend trip to somewhere hedonistic fun got cut down to a weekend and was redubbed the golf/spa/jazz festival trip. That's okay; we can't keep partying in Vegas forever (although this may be predicated on how ratchet you are). However, since they got married, it seems like they've almost disappeared. Phone calls don't get returned, plans get cancelled or rescheduled and it seems that they have joined this mysterious organization called Other Couples. Since you don't have a boo/significant other/partner/spouse, you are not invited to participate in the things you previously enjoyed with your friend.

It's not malicious (so I hope) or even intentional; you're just in different places in life. While you may be saving up for the new Jordans/a boat/Michael Bolton tickets, they're saving up for a house/midwife/mini-van (by the way, if you are saving up for a mini-van, tell no one), which is clearly more adult and serious. You can do whatever you want, whenever you want, and they have to check in with the family calendar to make sure they have a couple of hours to play a round of golf or grab a bite to eat. It's impossible to relate to one another anymore at this point. Actually, there's a mandate that says all married people must stop consorting with single people as it may give rise to jealousy and possibly engaging in freedom-seeking behavior (it's the allure of the do-what-you-want-when-you-want benefit of singlehood).

I kid.

Truthfully, it all depends on the strength and importance of your friendship before your friend got married. It can be very easy to blame their marriage on the reason they disappeared, but upon further reflection, you may realize they weren't actually that great a friend to begin with. Marriage/children gives them a ready-made excuse for why they don't call you back or can't seem to make it to game nights and birthdays. On the other hand, some people truly value their friendships and find the greatest support of their marriage is within their friendships. I've heard that first and seventh year can be rough!

Also, let's look at the single friend. Sometimes we assume that once a friend gets married they can't don't want to do the same things as their single friends. Sure, it may now be inappropriate for them to take their tops off at the bar, but they still want to go to happy hour! We have to be careful about the assumptions we make regarding their marriage. Are you supportive of your friend and their marriage? Are you interested in knowing their spouse, having a relationship with their children? If not, that's fine; just don't be upset when you see them less and less. And if you are one of those bitter, butt hurt single people, constantly disparaging relationships, you may not be the best person to include at a dinner party, especially if the Other Couples group is there.

So, if you find that you are the single friend, it's important to cut your married friend some slack, at least in the beginning. They are not trying to ignore you - they are adjusting to their new role as someone's spouse and that comes with a sh*tload of responsibilities. If some time has passed and your friend still hasn't returned, call them on it, let them know that their friendship is important to you and you miss them. Married people - it's very easy to get caught up in your life with your partner and maybe eventually children. Time is precious for sure and it feels like you have little of it. However, these are the friends who knew you before you assumed these other identities* and they're here to support and love you...and they also need it reciprocated. It may feel like a lot of effort given everything else on your plate, but just a little bit of effort goes a long way.




*Don't forget that they have lots of stories and pictures about you before you were a serious adult spouse parent...many of which would totally undermine that identity.

Don't Give Up!

You bite the bullet and go on Match/OkStupid/EHarmony. Just like everyone else, you're looking for hot sex on a platter love. It's been rough in real life - your best friend's boo refuses to join a team or club of some kind so they can find the love of your life and the bar scene is so played, especially since you joined the over-thirty crowd (very recently, thank you). You work tirelessly, creating the perfect profile, looking for the one who fits this description:

WANTED: Someone who's smart, compassionate, thoughtful, funny and appreciates the way I eat with chopsticks left-handedly and believes that bacon should be its own food group. Idris Elba doppelganger preferred but not required.

Finally, after several misadventures (like the guy who whipped out a list of things to talk about), you get exactly what you're looking for. He even looks kinda like Idris...if you squint your eyes and turn the lights down super low and have a shot or two of tequila...but still, everything else is in order. They are thoughtful, they get your jokes (obviously they are super smart), and love that you can eat bacon with left-handed chopsticks. It's like you went to the Burger King of dating and you got it your way.

Except...they still aren't the right one.

Your friends throw themselves prostrate on the floor because they're so tired of your pickiness. "What's wrong with this one?" they exclaim. You shake your head because you can't explain it. You have given it so much thought, talked about it excessively with the 38L Geary bus driver; if there is anyone who is tired of your pickiness, it's you! You want hot sex on a platter love for yourself just as much as they want it for you! And this person is great, wonderful, marvelous, has everything you want...on paper. Despite matching most, if not all of your most vital criteria, there is something missing. It's that indescribable, intangible thing that goes beyond physical attraction (and the desire to do naughty things to them).

Love is a tricky thing. If you're lucky, you meet someone who has most of the qualabilities you want, you fall in love and go on to conquer the world together (or at least Sudoku in the Sunday newspaper). Although there truly is an element of luck involved - you have to be at the right place, at the right time both literally and figuratively - it all sounds pretty easy. But what happens when you meet that person, they have all the right things and they do absolutely nothing for your heart?

Some people say "F*ck it. They have all the things I say I want and I'll just make it work. I'm tired of sitting at the kiddy table at all these goddamn weddings I'm going to all the time." (No judgment, but it does make one wonder if that has anything to do with the 50% divorce rate in this country. It's just a kiddy table for one night!) However, I believe that in picking your mate, it takes a lot of courage to follow your heart, even if it seems like it's speaking to you in a foreign language. If this person, regardless of how wonderfully awesome they are, is not for you, it's not fair to keep them because you're afraid there isn't anyone out there for you. Or because they like you more than you like them. Or because they make sense...on paper. Just like you, they deserve someone who has those indescribable, intangible feelings for them.

And hopefully, that leads to lots of hot sex on a platter.

*You're welcome for the Idris links.

Moving On

My boyfriend has a baby.

Okay, technically, he's not my boyfriend. We were in a relationship in 2005, a situationship for part of 2006, an "it's complicated" sprinkled in between (which is really just code for sporadically knocking boots when I was in town) and a do-over in 2010. As evidenced by various blog posts, you may have deduced that the do-over led to an it's-over, so I guess I should rephrase my original statement.

My ex-boyfriend has a baby.

Actually, I believe that most of my exes have babies now. Some of them even have wives (at least I think so, but I'm not absolutely sure this is a true statement so don't quote me). However, when I discovered that this one had a baby, it made me feel some kind of way. Maybe that's why I referred to him as my boyfriend, even though it's been a long time since we've even seen each other, naked or otherwise. I can't quite put my finger on what that feeling was, but it was visceral. It was like that feeling you get when you're getting a shot at the doctor's office - you know that it doesn't really hurt, but there's a sense of dread anyway.

What was I dreading exactly? In all the years of knowing each other, we haven't spent much time actually being in a relationship. We've danced around it, we've played at it, we've pretended that this time was different, but in reality, we were only meant to know each other. While there is/was a connection that could not be denied, we wanted different things and we were incompatible in some very fundamental ways (I liked Jimmy Fallon, he preferred Conan - you can't ignore that). When things finally, truly, for really ended, it was a relief. I'd given it one last shot and could close the door. Not only did I close it, I cemented over it, then put bricks over the cement to the point where you couldn't even see that a door existed.

At least that's what I thought...until I saw that picture of his cutie pie chubby-cheeked baby.

Most of us have experienced a breakup or 12 in our life times. Sometimes we did it, sometimes it was done to us, but we keep on living and we eventually get over them. However, there may be one or two people in your past who took up permanent residence in your heart (which may be totally against your will). Although you've moved on and have no delusions about how wrong you are for one another, there's still a part of you that can't quite picture them being with anyone else. Clearly, my boyfriend ex moved on and I'm sincerely, truly, very happy for him. Buuuuuut, despite not wanting to be with him or for us to get back together, there is a small part of me, so small and so secret that I didn't even know it was there until now, that thought of him as forever mine.

I want all the cookies in the cookie jar, even the ones I don't want!

While I've been out here, dating folks, getting hooked on sexy heroin and whatnot, he has been frozen in an emotional time warp, where I could go back to him when I wanted, if I wanted. Oh, I know it sounds absolutely ridiculous and totally unfair; how could I expect him to be waiting in the wings just in case I decide I might want to think about maybe considering the thought of the possibility of one more do-over in the distant but maybe nearer than you think future? (Well I did, but it doesn't really count because I didn't know that was what I was doing.) Intellectually, I get that both parties move on; I have moved on several many times at this point. I guess I wasn't emotionally prepared to see that it manifested in such an obvious way.

Especially since I didn't get there first. Y'all know I'm competitive!

Virtual Relationships

It's a Monday and you're having a hard day due to back pain/a fight with your baby boo/making a mistake at work. Although a glass (or a bottle really) of wine would take away some of this melancholy, Beverly irritatingly reminds you that it's a slippery slope to dependence (and you do have that one uncle). You go through your list of coping skills - you're out of marijuana, you'd have to clean your tub to take a bath, it's too dark to go running - and decide to call on your friends to ease some of your pain. You pull out your phone, go through your contact list and decide who to call...and then a rainbow made of Skittles appears in your living room, with Care Bears sliding down it to hand you the key to your brand new car that Ellen bought for you because you helped an old lady cross the street.

As if people use their phones to make calls! What a novel and retro idea!

So...you pull out your phone, take a sad selfie and post it on Instagram, while updating your FB status: "My day is like a world without bacon - depressing." The responses are instantaneous. "Poking you!" "Tomorrow will be better!" "Dude - a world without bacon - you are depressed!" "I just sent you an extra life on Candy Crush, hope you feel better!" Your friends are there for you...right? Although no one has actually asked what's going on, they clearly want you to feel better...right? I mean, if you were really troubled you could pick up your phone and call one of these folks...right?

Could you? Do you even have their phone number?

One would think that when everyone has 1,283 friends according to FB, Twitter, Pinterest and Instagram, it seems like everyone and their mama (who's friendship request you will not accept) should be able to reach out to someone. Although it's so easy to acquire these new "friends", are you really friends? With the advent of social media and the ubiquity of cell phones, we have become increasingly unplugged and disconnected from real life, while creating these faux personae in a virtual world. What's even more unfortunate is that we've begun to mistake our virtual relationships for being real; some of us are having a hard time discerning between the two. Yes, Jane liked your picture of the butterfly and Sam co-signed on your quotation about bacon. You and Louis had a fabulous conversation that one time you met and you remember really liking Mary when you were freshmen in college. But is that enough of a foundation to call someone a friend?

The true definition of friendship - liking each other's bacon quotations.

Despite being connected through our computers, phones, tablets, pagers and two-ways, many of us still feel quite lonely. Perhaps it's due to the superficial quality of the relationships we form now. We text, we tweet, we repost, re-pin and like the latest pictures of Beyoncé's lovely ass (did you see it on the Grammy's? Dayum Gina!) but we're not really saying anything substantive to each other. We bear witness to engagements, new jobs, new babies and other accomplishments, but are we actually there, in person to celebrate with our so-called friends? No, not really. Scrolling through Instagram pictures and reading update statuses now suffices for getting to know someone or finding out what's new in their lives. We're too busy to talk on the phone or it's too hard to try to get together. (If I didn't know people as well I do, I could actually think about trying to believe that to be true. Unfortunately, I know for a fact that it's bullsh*t. One thing me and Oprah know for sure is that people do whatever the hell they want to do.)

If we continue down this path, it will become more and more difficult for us to form real relationships. How do you have an actual conversation with someone when you only know how to communicate via emoticons and hashtags? How do you stay curious about someone when you already know they've been to Hoboken and learned to play the ukulele at age 5? How do we define quality time when most of us are sitting next to each other, totally plugged into our devices and not each other? We're so busy capturing a moment that we're not even experiencing it anymore!

So, I implore you to reach out to an old friend or a new friend. Talk on the phone. Spend some time together. I have a really good idea - get a drink and have a conversation at the bar.

P.S. My for real friend in real life JS was the inspiration of this blog.

I Cannot Accept Your Friend Request



Dear Former Roommate,

I regretfully must inform you that I cannot accept your FB friend request. It's been quite some time since we've been in contact; I think you moved out almost immediately following graduation in 2005. In the past 9 years, I have thought about you possibly 6 times, not including when I tell my crazy racist roommate in New York story to new friends. I've wondered what happened to you and as quickly as you popped into my head, you disappeared. I'm not sure why you've turned up now, as I've only been on FB for about 7 years, but here we are. 

I feel some kind of way. 

Your request transported me back to our first semester living together. Prior to us moving in, we talked on the phone. I knew you were a little young, but thought it should be able to work. I'm easy to get along with and relatively clean. I was pretty sure that you thought I was white. It's okay, I'd heard that before. While I knew you'd probably be surprised to find that I was a black woman, I figured since we were going to social work school, you'd been exposed to a little bit of diversity.

Never make assumptions.

That was a valuable lesson learned that lesson when I realized you had locked your bedroom door those first few days we started living together. I'm pretty sure I left petty thief off my application, but somehow you must have figured out my plan to sneak in your room and wear your clothes. Just because I'm college educated and enrolled to go to grad school doesn't mean I don't steal stuff. Especially from a roommate...who I will be living with for 2 years...who can see if I had your stuff. It couldn't be because I'm black, right? I get it, I'm a stranger! Stranger danger!

We did, for the most part get along. Although there were some differences in the way we chose to keep our spaces, it seemed like things were fine. We even hung out together sometimes. However, it all came to a head one night when a group of us (including 2 of my childhood friends who also lived in NY) went to dinner. You were being rude and when we got home, I confronted you about it. What started as a conversation about your stank attitude became a declaration of feeling excluded. Unfortunately, it was your choice of words that prohibited any possibility of future inclusion.

"Am I not cool enough or black enough or ghetto enough to hang out with you and your friends?"

Remember that time when both of my childhood friends were white?

I learned several things about you that night. 1. You were racist. (I was later informed that you told my friend that your heart sank when you saw that I was black. Did you really think she wouldn't tell me?) You were so quick to determine that your exclusion was based on race that you failed to pay attention to exactly who I was hanging out with which leads to...2. Incredibly out of touch with reality. The diversity in the group of my friends you met from home and from school truly resembled a Benetton commercial. 3. You made it clear that in our school's desperation to finish the new building meant that they were not very discerning about who they admitted into the program. 4. You were lucky that I didn't punch you in your throat.

Was this the first time I'd ever dealt with ignorance and racism? Of course not. I've only been black in America my whole life. Fortunately, up until that point, I never had to live with it in my house. Home is supposed to be a sanctuary and that first semester, my sanctuary was ruined. My stomach hurt and this sense of dread and fatigue would wash over me as I got closer, knowing that I might have to see you. I am grateful that your family lived in New Jersey and you would go home on the weekends. Sweet respite.

Eventually, I "got over it", at least enough to extend a non-ghetto olive branch. We never really discussed what happened and the level of friendliness never returned to what it once was. Once we no longer lived together, I was happy to leave you in my past, to only dust you off when I tell my crazy NY roommate stories. And now you're here in my FB friend queue (where you will reside for the rest of eternity), stirring up old memories that are surprisingly still painful.

I can only hope that over these past 9 years you've grown and had enough life experience to understand the impact of your ignorance and are different. While time may heal old wounds, mine haven't fully healed yet. With that being said, I regretfully must inform you that I cannot accept your FB friend request.

And just to be clear...you will never be cool enough, black enough or ghetto enough to be my friend.

Invested in the Outcome

The attraction was obvious. It was clear that something was going to happen between me and dude; he was so happy to see me and made it a point to get my number. We went out on dates, he brought me flowers and grits (women can be won over through their bellies too). We held hands and kissed on New Year's Eve. It was pretty intense; we were inseparable...for all of 6 weeks. Just as abruptly as it started, it ended.

I added that for dramatic flair.

In all honesty, there were subtle shifts in his behavior toward the end. I could feel it and was trying very hard to ignore it. After all these years of being single (or really in an "it's complicated" Facebook relationship status situationship), I was about to have me a gottdam, bonafide, real deal Holyfield boyfriend. And he was not going to get in the way! Unfortunately, that's not how things work. It's so weird - you can't have a boyfriend who's unwilling to be your boyfriend. When things seemed to be getting serious, he backed out, leaving me devastated and alone.

Except I wasn't really devastated. Instead, I was pissed. I felt misled; if you walk like a duck and talk like a duck, why would I think you're actually a kangaroo? Based on his behavior, I believed that we were headed toward couplehood. But more importantly, he had ruined my plans for no longer being single. I could leave Sexy Heroin alone because I had a boo to occupy that space in my heart. I would have someone to hold my hand as we walked down the street so the whole world would know that I have a boyfriend. I could tell stories that started with "Me and my boyfriend..." All of which are the wrong reasons to be in a relationship with someone.

As evidenced by the lack of devastation, in hindsight, it seemed clear that although he was a good guy, he wasn't the right one for me. If I had taken my time to get to know him (hello 90-day probationary period), I may have discovered that rather than being shocked by it. I was overly invested in the outcome; I wanted to have a boyfriend, period. And while it wasn't a conscious, any-guy-will-do decision, I let my objective get in the way of my objectivity, prohibiting me from making a thoughtful choice. It has been a hard lesson learned; it's just now truly sunken in.

This does not only apply to dating; there are many arenas in our life where this may occur. How many times have you applied for a job, imagining the life you'll have once you get that much better paycheck, only to never even receive an interview? (Or you get to the 4th interview after interviewing with 20,348 future coworkers over the span of 2 months, only to learn that they gave it to someone else? I'm not bitter...anymore.) How often do we make decisions based on what we think will happen instead of doing something for the sake of the experience?

It's hard to change that kind of thinking. I think most of us would like a crystal ball that shows us what will happen in the future so we may sleep a little easier at night. We all want to be safe and to know that things will work out the way we want them to. Unfortunately, life is not like that; we have all kinds of experiences, positive and negative, that there's no way we could have planned. Some of them we would have avoided at all costs! However, those are the experiences that shape who we are and who we become.

Besides, do you really want a crystal ball? Those things get dirty so quickly and they are a pain in the ass to keep clean!