Whose Friend Is It?

There is an unspoken rule that when couples break up, loyalties are quickly and easily divided. The guy gets to keep his friends, the girl gets to keep hers, and any mutual friends are split, depending on the orginator. Let's ground this in reality.

The Date and I split after a few months, as most of you know. While we were dating, I met a few of his female friends, some of whom I really liked. I actually emailed one of them a few times, exchanged recipes, and planned a night out. Upon split, I have since severed all ties to aforementioned friend.

The Date, meanwhile, hit things off with my best friend's husband. While we were dating, I couldn't have been happier. But now that things have ended, the unspoken rule cites that The Date sever ties with my friends. However, this has not happened. In fact, the two of them are still friends, and go out for drinks occasionally.

I'm okay that the rule was broken and the two of them are friends. Honestly. It just might get weird when my best friend and her husband have a party. And of course, it's weird that The Date just stopped calling after four months. You'd think he would have handled it better knowing that we now share friends.

Jdate Men

I'm definitely asking for a lawsuit with this one, but I just can't resist...

Every time I go on Jdate (which hopefully won't be for much longer,) these two men are usually the first two that appear in my searches. Yes, they are both in my age and height range, but what the hell is this? At first I thought it was the same person, but their profiles seem to be quite different (one is from Arizona, and one is from Europe.) But what is the deal with the cheesy side angle? Maybe they think that they come across as more romantic, sensual, artisitc? What do you think, and more importantly, has anyone out there on Jdate met them?

Merry Fuckin' Christmas

It's a good thing I don't celebrate Christmas, or I would have been sorely disappointed with what Santa brought me: a run-in with The Man on Christmas Eve. Yup, after five months, our first encounter was with a hundred of our fellow Jews at a Christmas Eve benefit (the money went towards Autism.) While we had exchanged emails once or twice, the in-person meeting was much harder than I expected. It was bittersweet. Of course, a hot, smelly bar with people banging into you is not the ideal environment to connect, but it could have been worse: one of us could have been with a date. Or been cold to the other.

Seeing him brought back so many feelings; so many memories. We both care so much about the other person- that was obvious. But nothing changed, and I awoke this morning knowing that I need to move forward. I need to be with someone who wants to move forward.

But for now, I'm hanging with my girlfriends. Off to see Dreamgirls. Merry Christmas!

Dear The Date

Dear The Date,

Since you never responded to my phone calls and texts a few weeks ago, I thought I would write you here. Actually, I am assuming you won't read this, and these words will better benefit my loyal readers. Regardless, I'll proceed.

I must admit that I was rather shocked that you chose to just stop calling me after dating for almost four months. Even the largest of all assholes would at least leave a post-it note on my forehead. I know you liked me a lot, and I struggled along the way. But I was never intentionally mean or hurtful to you. I really tried to let my walls down, and let you in, but I guess it might have been too late for you. But ignoring me is infantile. Although I should thank you for providing fodder for a story.

I hope you find what you are looking for. You were a great guy with a lot to offer (your exit strategy leaves less to be desired at the moment); we just weren't right for each other.

-Debbie

Work Party 2006

Last night was our annual work party, at Cipriani's. Nothing like partying with 600 of your closest co-workers. And nothing beats drunk dancing with co-workers. Here are a few highlights, enjoy.

It Was For the Kids

My friend Nicola invited me to a benefit last night; she was on the board for Project Piggybank and they were having a winter party at the elusive Bungalow 8. The invitation cited hors d'eouvres, a performance by the cast of RENT, and more. Yesterday morning, Nicola had listed off celebrities that had RSVP'd: Liza Minelli, Tony Danza, Sienna Miller, and Chevy Chase- an interesting collection of alcoholics/freaks past and present. Star power at its best.

I must admit to sincere excitement about this one. I wanted to wear the ultimate cocktail attire. My money was going to the kids. This was going to be the party of the week.

Um, not. I knew I was in for disappointment when the only food they served were.... salads. Yes, I am serious. They passed out a variety of boxed salads: some with roast beef, others with tuna, a few with pumpkin. Yes, these were the best salads I had probably ever eaten and I downed three of them. Ironically, I was starving as I had only eaten a salad for lunch (and yes, I will be very regulated for the next week I am sure.) But where were the pigs in the blankets? The bacon wrapped scallops? The foundation had the name Pig in it after all. I wanted party food, not roughage.

The cast of RENT was a no-show. As were the celebrities listed above. All of them. Which left me in a pretty cocktail dress with my A game on surrounded by a bunch of single women.
But hey, I did have a cute 26-year old begging me to go home with him, promising the best sex of my life. I opted to stay at Bungalow 8 until midnight, waiting for the real party to get started, which never did. I probably should have left with the little boy.

But, hell, it was for the kids.

I'm Tired

I'm tired of shopping for men using an online catalogue
I'm tired of living in the East 20's
I'm tired of sleeping diagonally across a bed
I'm tired of going to Crunch
I'm tired of living in a studio
I'm tired of feeling disappointed
I'm tired of my salary
I'm tired of dating
I'm tired of fighting with certain family members
I'm tired of wanting more in my life than I currently have
I'm tired of hoping that the next year will be better than the current one

Maybe I should take a nap.

Babies on the Brain

I had the weirdest dream Friday night: I gave birth to triplets.

It gets worse. I don't think there was a father in the picture. And the part of the dream that is still crystal clear a few days later is me searching all over town for a stroller. Actually, I think I was looking for two strollers, as I didn't know how to take all three of the babies out at once.

Any psychologist would probably call the dream an easy one to interpret: I have fears of becoming a single mom, having to take fertility drugs when I decide to raise a family on my own at age 39 or 40.

But that is my sub-conscious fucking with me. Consciously, I believe that I will get married and have children with a father in the picture, although I better solve my relationship issues pretty damn soon. Granted, most likely I will be on the instant-family track, like New York Magazine wrote about a few weeks ago. People who go from first date to kid in 18 months or so. Maybe I'll follow the latest trend and get pregnant before I get married. There is something so hippy-ish about that.

Any good friend, or therapist would tell me to not be vocal about my family plan while dating, to not scare the guy away. I am pretty honest about it, but in a sarcastic way. That seems to work. For example, once The Date joked, pre-coitally about needing condoms so I wasn't accidentally put in a "conflicting situation" to which I responded dead-pan, "oh, there's no conflict." The look on his face was great!

At this point, I don't think a baby would fit in my studio apartment. I'll have to re-evaluate the situation next year. : )

Cashing In

If you have been a loyal reader, you would know that I set my mother up with her husband, on Match.com back in 1999. They have been happily married for over 6 years, and wouldn't have met if I hadn't written to Jeff on my mother's behalf. "You never know" were words used in that initial correspondence that came all too true.

Flash forward to 2006. My mother has not been working since July, after she left her job doing education/marketing at a non-profit. Month after month, she has been firing off resumes into cyberspace, with not even a reply/read email back. Resumes to Monster, Hotjobs, Company A and Company B went unanswered. An interview wasn't in sight.

However, one Friday afternoon in November, I was reading the bi-weekly Job Newsletter I received from Syracuse's Newhouse School of Communications and came across a job. Not for me, for Mom. It was perfect, some Director of Marketing/Communications for a Non-Profit in Maryland. I sent her the newsletter and suggested she apply.

Within a day of sending her resume, my mother received a phone call requesting a phone interview. Ten days after that (yesterday) she was brought in to interview for two hours with the team. Today, she received an offer and accepted the position. Go Mom!

But I did push hard for the finder's fee. I need money for a down payment on an apartment. How can she say no to me know? : )

Sorry

Blogging has fallen to the bottom of the list this week, sorry. You might wonder what in my life could more more important than entertaining you, so I'll share:

- We had a department outing at Dave and Buster's yesterday. 3 hours playing skee-ball, trivia and assorted video games for free, rocks!
- A compliment on my blog from one of my closest friends (who happens to be a professional writer) led to my signing up for a writing workshop tomorrow. However, I needed a solid chick-lit idea, so I spent many an hour drafting a kick-ass concept.
- Not sleeping, or I would not have used the phrases "rock" and "kick-ass"
- Trying to find a pair of Size 7 Chestnut UGGs in stock (Nordstroms, sending them to me in mid-January is slightly unacceptable)
- Convincing myself that I am not too old or cool for Uggs
- Watching episodes of "I Shouldn't Be Alive." I have not thrown up since 8th grade, swear, and yet I practically lost it during the episode where three hikers try to summit Mt. McKinley in Alaska. This show should really be called "I Shouldn't Be Alive Because I Do Dumbass Things in Nature."

Anyway, happy Friday and a good weekend to all.