Somewhere along the way, I had to really start questioning myself as to whether I was really a “relationship person”.

I guess I found myself questioning this because, unlike The Hot Shot, who seems to fall in love easily, it takes a really long time for me to develop feelings for someone. I’m older now and I don’t see a point in being with someone for the sake of being with someone and avoiding being alone. And though I’d never ever say this upfront to someone I saw potential in, the next person I’d get into a relationship with is probably going to be someone that I actually see myself with long-term…and forever.

No sense wasting my time, otherwise.  

It’s a big deal when I actually like someone, because like that old Nat King Cole song, “When I Fall In Love” goes, I’m the kind of person who, when I fall in love, it’ll be forever or I’ll just never fall in love.

So the thing is, a friend of mine was telling me that it was time to quit pining after Jim because she thinks that there’s someone “better” out there. And the thing is, when it comes to Jim, I don’t really talk much about what’s been going on with him, anymore — not to anyone…even though, things with Jim are actually…well, good.

It’s not so much that I’m afraid of jinxing things…I just sort of feel like…well, I know it sounds crazy, but I think I love him. (And no, I’m not crazy enough to blurt out the “l” word that quickly. But, sometimes, when you’ve slowly fallen for someone after a really long time, you just know. And you can’t help how you feel.)

From Oprah:
It’s Good to Be Picky. Very Picky
Single women the world over will thank God for these two researchers: In a study of speed daters, Paul W. Eastwick and Eli J. Finkel, PhD, of Northwestern University, found that people who selected a large number of candidates for follow-up meetings were less likely to be picked themselves for another round. People who chose only a few contenders were more successful in getting attention and responses. It turns out that singles who show interest in every partner they encounter may come off not as eager and open but as just plain desperate.

“What’s interesting about that is it actually differs from platonic liking,” says Finkel. “In nonromantic contexts, if I like everybody, then everybody likes me back. After all, who doesn’t like the guy who likes everybody? But in a romantic context, if I say, ‘Yeah, she’s hot! And she’s hot…and she’s hot…and that other girl over there is hot, too,’ there’s now hard statistical evidence that, in general, the women I meet will not find me sexually desirable.”

Does this mean that grandmothers who’ve warned single women not to be too picky have been wrong? “I don’t think your grandma meant, ‘You have to go on dates with everybody under every circumstance,’” says Finkel. “But in a situation in which there are a bunch of eligible men, like a party, be selective.” Finkel warns against interpreting this data as an invitation to sit home or play hard to get: “What you want to do is be easy for one person to get and hard for everyone else, which will increase the likelihood of that one person’s liking you.”

Yeah, I know.

It sounds like an urban legend, doesn’t it?

But maybe they’re onto something?

In search of the `happily ever after’

Knocked Up explores the sweet wistfulness of wanting to make relationships work

June 04, 2007

Judy Gerstel
Living Reporter
“What makes a happy lifetime partnership after all?”

It’s a question writer/director Judd Apatow explores through the lives of two couples in his new hit movie, Knocked Up.

There’s the 24-year-old svelte blonde broadcaster who’s pregnant after a drunken hook-up with a 23-year-old schlubby slacker and quintessential jerk.

And there’s her older sister, married with kids to a wealthy music agent. They’re not exactly an inspiring role model: “Everybody’s all pissed off all the time.”

Observes one character, “A marriage is like an unfunny, tense version of Everybody Loves Raymond.”

The effort to have a happy partnership is not only at the tender heart of this movie, it’s also the subject of almost every self-help book that’s not about losing weight.

That’s because much of life is about a yearning for contented coupledom, the strategy to find it, and the struggle to maintain it.

And it’s why, along with all the raunch in Knocked Up, there’s also the sweet wistfulness of wanting to make relationships work.

“Think we’ll ever be as happy as the Baby Bjorn couple?” asks father-to-be Ben, catching sight of the image on the baby carrier box.

Chances are they will.

Because whereas most couples begin by mistaking chemistry and passion for authentic intimacy and knowing each other, Ben and Alison are merely sharing an embryo.

Not blinded by love, they can coolly and rigorously scrutinize each other as potential partners: “We have seven months until the baby comes … seven months of getting to know each other.”

“Falling in love, people idealize each other,” says Toronto psychoanalyst and couples therapist Keith Haartman. “It’s a wonderful state to be in but can never sustain itself. They always have to confront each other’s foibles and limitations.”

Ben and Alison do this with brio from the beginning.

Generally in dating, “you don’t even look at each other through the spousal lens,” says John Van Epp, author of How To Avoid Marrying A Jerk. The Ohio-based relationship counsellor believes Knocked Up “has some embedded wisdom.”

He says it’s wise that Alison “doesn’t move in or agree to marry Ben: forcing him to be independent is more revealing.”

He adds, “It’s wonderful to have a depiction of somebody getting better over the course of a relationship.”

People can change, he says, but “you don’t want to change them. You want to see if it’s self-maintaining. Three to six months is a good rule of thumb.”

(Just as in a new relationship, “Around three months you start to see things not evident in the first two months.”)

Ben and Alison are doing just what Guy Grenier prescribes in his book, The 10 Conversations You Must Have Before You Get Married.

“Co-ordinating needs, wants, desires, likes and dislikes,” he says, “is five times more difficult than rocket science. Taking it for granted, thinking it just happens, is naïve and dangerous.”

But figuring it out, says the London, Ont., psychologist and marital therapist, “can be a lot of fun.”

“The more similarities, the easier and the better, and the greater the likelihood you’re not going to be in conflict,” he explains.

While one big difference in important areas such as family, money, sex, kids and religion won’t be fatal, Grenier warns, “10 will be.”

Healthy relationships, he says, deal well with three critically important issues: attachment, autonomy and equality: “People need to feel the relationship is equally costly and equally benefiting.”

The three things couples fight about most? “Chores, money, sex.”

But, suggests Haartman, “In the vast majority of instances, what people are arguing about is not what they’re arguing about.”

Very often, he says, couples repeat traumas of childhood and with previous partners in hopes of finding some resolution. “Each partner may demand of the other that they right the wrongs of the past.”

Sometimes, however, it all comes down to determination to make it work, for any number of reasons.

“Would she have stuck with it if she hadn’t been pregnant?” Van Epp wonders about the movie.

Apatow’s response to the over-arching relationship question? “There’s something honourable about … not breaking up for the sake of the baby,” he told the New York Times. “I see people get divorced and there is a part of me that thinks, `I wonder how hard they tried?’”

Like Jerome Copulsky, Jim was with a girl who wanted to change him and mould him into the “perfect” boyfriend — and this ranged from things like his hair, his clothes and even his facial hair.

And the more I got to know him, the more I wanted to say, “You should be with someone who loves you just the way you are.”

But when it comes to other people’s relationships, discussing what doesn’t seem to be “right” in your eyes is like trying to navigate through a landscape riddled with landmines.

Really, who’s to judge? As Carrie once said in an episode of “Sex and the City”:
“When it comes to relationships, maybe we’re all in glass houses, and shouldn’t throw stones. Because you can never really know. Some people are settling down, some people are settling and some people refuse to settle for anything less than butterflies.”

Eventually, Jim stopped seeing Ms. Wrong and within months, he was already thinking about dating again — um, rebound-much?

While I think he tries too hard to be the “perfect” boyfriend to whomever he’s dating, I really think he should take the time to find someone who’ll love him just the way he is.

And maybe that’s advice I should learn to take myself.

The Supremes once counselled, “You can’t hurry love — no, you’ve just got to wait. Just trust and give it time, no matter how long it takes.”

But does waiting ever really get any easier?

In the Dressing Room, Relationships Laid Bare
By JEROME E. COPULSKY

MY girlfriend had grown tired of seeing me in my habitual attire — baggy khakis with fraying ends, threadbare sweaters I’d probably owned since college, an old tweed sports coat — and resolved to expose me to the possibilities of style.

I called my look “professorial,” which, considering I am a professor, seemed appropriate.

She called it “démodé.”

“When you get tenure, they give you suede elbow patches,” I told her.

“We can do better,” she said.

So as we strolled through SoHo on a visit to New York, she announced, “We need to go shopping for you,” and waltzed me into a store.

I complained, but I had to admit that shopping excursions are indeed much more interesting when undertaken with a beautiful girlfriend, especially when she joins you in the dressing room, adding an erotic charge to the otherwise tedious labor.

We visited a number of trendy downtown haunts that day, and in each we repeated the ritual of browsing among the racks and carrying armfuls of garments to the dressing room. The things she gathered were of the sort I never would have considered: body-fitting shirts, slick trousers with zippers serving no imaginable purpose running zigzaggy up the legs, $200 pairs of jeans, gauzy jackets that did not seem to offer much protection against the elements — clothes that would purportedly transform me into someone more “now.”

Huddling in the small well-lighted dressing room, we giggled and exchanged furtive kisses as I tried not to wonder what people outside might be thinking. Satisfied, she watched as I pulled on a skin-tight black T-shirt that accentuated my slight paunch. “It’s called a ‘motivational’ shirt,” she explained, running her slender fingers over my belly. “You’ll do more situps.”

She was especially excited about the silverish trousers with the zigzag zippers. I tugged them on and stood before the full-length mirror. The legs were wide and flared boldly at the bottom. I looked like Frankenstein’s dolphin. “Nope,” I said.

“I love them!”

“There’s no way I can pull these off. I’m almost 40.”

“No you’re not,” she said with a laugh. “You’re 35.”

“I’m almost 36.”

Despite her enthusiasm, I wasn’t convinced. “Let’s ask the sales guy,” I said, as if his advice were expert and impartial.

She stepped out of the dressing room and called him over. “Don’t you think these look great on him?”

He sullenly agreed that they did.

“I’m getting them for you,” she said.

“They’re crazy expensive,” I replied. “When will I wear them?” I imagined the curious looks of my students if I were to wear the dolphin getup to class.

“They’re an early birthday present.”

“My birthday is four months away.”

Like much in this relationship, I had no choice in the matter. She ran up to the counter, whipped out a credit card, purchased the pants and the “motivational” T-shirt and handed the bag to me.

I was lucky, I thought, to have a girlfriend who took me shopping, made out with me in dressing rooms and even bought me stuff. I felt the giddiness of being cherished, of being cared for, and, despite my misgivings about the clothes, I believed I would shine in her presence. I was quite content to be taken on as her project.

Such bliss was short-lived. Weeks later, after a disastrous dinner party in which her sister’s boyfriend tried to teach my dog to lie down and my dog responded to his attentions by biting his hand, we sat in bed and she told me that it wasn’t working. We had never really connected, she explained, though somehow I had failed to notice.

So we split up, without my having the opportunity to acquire any early birthday presents for her. I felt guilty about this, and guilty that she had made these extravagant purchases I hadn’t really liked and wouldn’t wear even if I had liked them, because they would remind me of her.

During one of our unpleasantly protracted phone conversations, as we detailed why we weren’t right for each other, or rather, as she meticulously explained why we weren’t “a good fit,” I offered to return to her the dolphin trousers and the “motivational” shirt (I was very much lacking in motivation at that time).

She refused, saying she had bought the clothes for me and wanted me to enjoy wearing them. She didn’t want to hear that this was impossible.

Several weeks passed, and I had yet to don either the trousers or the T-shirt. Feeling lonely one evening, I pulled the pants from their hanger in my mostly bare closet. The tags were still in place, mocking me with foreign names and extravagant prices. I slipped them on again. A quick glance at my reflection confirmed that I did indeed look ridiculous. I had no business trying to look like some hipster teenager. Even my dog seemed to regard me with suspicion.

I figured I could either let these items languish in my closet or donate them to the Salvation Army. After some thought, I decided that I would exchange them for something I might actually wear, and that I would ask my longtime ex, with whom I often had lunch when I visited New York, if she would accompany me to provide fashion expertise.

I wondered, of course, whether it was appropriate to enlist my longtime ex in helping me exchange a gift that my most-recent ex had bought for me. But as many exes remain close nowadays, sometimes even inviting each other to their weddings, such a request didn’t seem all that peculiar.

When the time of our get-together arrived, after a lingering dim sum brunch in Chinatown, as we were ambling along Mott Street, I casually mentioned my need to exchange something in SoHo. Did she want to come along and offer her good taste and sound advice?

“Of course,” she said.

AS we entered the store, our ears thumping with techno music, she said, “You’ve been shopping here?”

“Sort of.” I pulled the weird trousers and the T-shirt from the bag and held them up for her inspection. “What do you think?”

She laughed. “You can’t wear these,” she said. “What were you thinking?”

“It wasn’t my idea.” I paused, then finally just admitted it: “She bought them for me.”

“Well,” she said with a sigh, “that explains it.”

I trailed her as she wandered about the store, poking through racks and piles, pulling things out, eyeing them critically, holding them up to me, and saying “nope” or handing them to me to try on.

In the dressing room, I plopped the pile onto the bench and went to work while somewhere on the other side of the door my longtime ex waited for me to emerge. This was less efficient than having her in the room with me, but you simply can’t share a dressing room with an ex, especially when she has a boyfriend with whom she is living, and to whom, I had just learned, she is engaged.

I had been bracing myself for that news ever since the day two years before when she told me she was seeing someone new, and especially since earlier that day when I noticed the light glinting off the small, tasteful diamond that sat upon her finger, signifying a promise I found myself unable to make.

She told me of her engagement as we waited for the first dim sum carts to stop by our table, and I congratulated her.

“That’s really great,” I said. “I’m so happy for you.” And I was.

I myself had little to report, aside from the recent implosion of my relationship.

“What happened?” she asked.

I told her that she hated my dog, which was more or less the truth of the matter.

ALONE in the dressing room, I pulled on a pair of jeans, squatted and stood repeatedly, testing them for roominess, considering myself from different angles. But what did I know? The point was to get a woman’s opinion, so I opened the door, peered out and called for my longtime ex.

No response. I stepped outside, letting go of the door, which slammed behind me and locked.

In my socks, I wandered to the front of store, but she was no longer in the men’s section searching for things for me to try on or considering a gift for her fiancé. I found her in the women’s section, standing before a mirror with a skirt clutched to her waist.

“Hey,” I said, presenting myself, “what do you think?”

She furrowed her brow. I’d always adored that look — the way her eyebrows realign, taking the curl of intent consideration, the little lines that deepen on her forehead, the pursed lips and subtle twitch of the nose. I adored her entire repertory of faces.

“I don’t love it,” she said.

“And the pants?”

“Definitely not. Try the other stuff.”

Back at the dressing room, I tried to turn the handle, only to remember that I was now locked out. I tracked down the clerk near the front counter, lost in his folding as if it were some kind of meditative practice.

“Excuse me,” I said. “I need to get back into the dressing room.”

“The door locks behind you.”

“I realize that,” I mumbled, following him back.

I tried on one thing after another until I reached the last item in the pile, a pair of simple blue linen pants, straight leg and loose in the thighs, comfortable. Thus clad, I headed back out, absent-mindedly letting the door once again slam and lock behind me.

“How about these?” I asked when I found her.

“Turn around.”

I did, and as she examined me like she used to, I thought of how my girlfriends have always tried to correct my shortcomings, sartorial and otherwise, and how acquiescence or resistance to these little adjustments (to attire, grooming, manners, habits and opinions) made up the so-called give and take of relationships, each partner being tailored, and trying to tailor, the other. Sometimes the alterations take; sometimes they don’t. Other times you fail to realize how well things really fit until it’s too late.

I imagined my longtime ex now lavishing her attentions upon her fiancé, and he lavishing his upon her.

Turning to face her, I suppressed a faint swell of jealousy and regret.

“Well?” I asked.

“They look good,” she said.

Jerome E. Copulsky lives in Blacksburg, Va.

Always remember that.

Whenever a guy tells me, “I’m no good alone. I’m a relationship person”, I just get this violent urge to punch them in the face.

Granted, there are some of us out there who genuinely prefer being alone, but the truth of the matter is, a whole lot of us are on the “I’m a relationship person” boat.

Recently, I got an email from a reader on my other blog who wrote about how there are plenty of people out there who are in relationships who are lonely. And the thing is, I got the same reaction that I always get whenever another one of these emails floats into my inbox; these readers just aren’t getting it. What I’ve been writing about all along is the loneliness that comes from when you’re brave enough to say, “You know what? Even though this can get lonely sometimes, I’d still rather be alone than be with someone who’s not right for me. I have too much respect for myself to be trapped in a relationship with someone who doesn’t love me completely for who I am.”

Okay, maybe I’m really thinking about this one friend that I have who’s trying to convince everyone around her that the jackass she’s with has “changed” into the dream guy because, after threatening to call it quits with him for the 7,000,000th time,  he’s decided to shape up and do everything she wants — and now, he’s talking about how they should get married as soon as possible…hmmm…I wonder why? So that when they’re man and wife, he can go back to emotionally and physically abusing her?

You know what? I really think that I’ve gotten to a point where I want to brush my hands clean of this and say, “Forget it. You’re just asking for it at this point.”

How many times do you have to be abused before the light clicks on that you’re with the wrong person?

Are some of us really THAT afraid of being alone?  

My friend, K, was exasperated when she noticed me brush off “a perfectly nice guy” — what can I say? He seemed smarmy and boring — if that’s even possible.

Sometimes, when a guy thinks he’s hot shit, I get this preverse desire to knock him down a peg or two; K thinks that they should have my picture under the definition “mind-fucker” because, when I really want to, I have this uncanny ability to zero in on the one weird hang-up that someone has about themselves and then stab at it.

Personally, I think I’m starting to wear bitterness like a second skin.

This guy that I’d been casually seeing, but who seemed to drop off the face of the planet a few weeks ago, suddenly resurfaced and I just thought, “What the fuck is this? Are you fucking kidding me? Don’t fucking call me now and act like I should be thrilled to hear from you. You fucking suck!”

Granted, I didn’t say this to his face. A part of me did, however, want to kick him in the nuts and just walk away.

Got spectacularly drunk on Friday night. K, who was with me, started getting that look on her face when I blithely informed her that the main way I get over all the shit in my life right now is to just drink. Preferrably at home, where I won’t have to make the trek back home without falling on my face.

You know the look that I’m talking about, right? The, “Do you have a problem? Do we need to get you into AA”-look?

I haven’t had anything to drink since Friday night. Mostly because Saturday morning was spent with the worst hangover ever.

It isn’t.

It’s just…other stuff that’s going on in my life.

I’m starting to wonder if the main reason I make for a great first date is because, on some level, I don’t really have any plans to meet up with that person again…especially since I’m in search of that all elusive chemistry.

Remember that Sex and the City episode where Carrie first meets Jack Berger and she’s overwhelmed with the chemistry she feels for him?

She tells her friends that she “sparked” with him — and that she almost never sparks with someone.

I remember one guy who, on paper, seemed great. He was from South Africa, was cultured, witty and well-read. And even though we had a great first date, when he called and asked if I’d be interested in going with him to a ballet, I said no, and he didn’t get what was “wrong” since we’d had a great first date.

Am I robbing myself of the chance to be with someone great because I continually look for a spark that might not exist?

Okay, that’s not true. I’ve sparked with a grand total of two people — one of them being Jim.

But does it really count as a spark if you’re the only one who feels it (to the best of your knowledge)?

Five Dead-end Dating Patterns and How To Break Them
By Diana Kirschner, Ph.D.

Special to Yahoo! Personals
Updated: May 22, 2007

You know the signs. You’re with a guy and get that gut feeling — you’re going to be hurt and lose out in the same way as before. And even though you vow that this time will be different, it all comes sadly to pass and you’re back to the tissue box and Ben & Jerry’s. Welcome to the world of dead-end dating patterns.
Here are the top five deadly patterns, along with potent fixes to help you escape them.

1. Not perfect — I’ll pass
The pattern: Your best friend talks you into signing up for online dating. You interact with a number of men and quickly back out of seeing them because of various defects that each one has: this guy is too cynical; that one has bad teeth; the other spilled his espresso macchiato grande all over his shirt. The reality is that you don’t even give them a chance to emerge and be who they are. No one is good enough. You unconsciously project your own feelings of inadequacy onto each guy you meet or date. The flaws in them become blinding — completely and totally turning you off. You run.

Your reactions are nothing more than defensive maneuvers designed to guard against being rejected yourself. Then you end up alone, wondering why there are no good guys out there.

The fix: Listen to that voice in your head that is hypercritical of you. Then you won’t be projecting so much. If you start feeling turned off when he spills his coffee, as you help him find some napkins to clean up the mess, say to yourself, “I’m being picky and critical in some way of myself, just like my mother (or father) is.” Even though this feels strange it will change the way you look at men.

2. Chase me
The pattern: This is similar to “Not perfect — I’ll pass” in that you interact with a guy and then distance yourself. But in this scenario, you have great sex in his king-sized bed and open up not only sexually but emotionally. After the cozy coupling and three-hour confessionals, you get scared to death. You pull back suddenly and become unavailable, or you act crazy and/or dump him. Even if he is loving, you insist that he doesn’t really care about you. Almost against your own will, you find yourself running away for no particular reason. Deep down you know that you’re starting to love the guy so you have to break up with him before he can do it to you. At least that way you can control the heartbreak. What you really want is for him to smash through the barricades you’ve thrown up and come riding in on his white horse to claim you. But you never tell him. So you set him up to fail you. He doesn’t chase after you. And you say to yourself, I knew it all along.

The fix: You need to slow things down! Remember the mantra: Jump in too fast and it’s over fast. And, unless he’s a real jerk, no running off! Instead, take a chance — hang in there and be real with him.

3. I’ll make you love me — push away
The pattern: You meet a guy you like and work hard to land him — hopping right into bed, making exotic dinners, even buying him tickets to the playoffs. You’re not yourself with him — just busy trying to be the image of what you think he wants in a woman. You’re his love slave, chef, therapist, and savior. All you want, consciously at least, is for him to stay and never leave you. What you get is a phone that never rings. Your over-giving has chased him into the arms of the nearest girly-girl who needs him to take care of her! When you finally get the bad news through the grapevine, you’re completely baffled by how stupid men can be.

The fix: The giving has to go both ways. Your one-sided over-giving is just masking your own fear of rejection. Understand that you can’t make anyone love you. It’s either there or it’s not. Look for a partner who really loves you for you. (Yes, it’s possible).

4. Fade away
The pattern: You finally force yourself to get out there in the land of men and date. And you admit that some of the guys have potential. Some you even like. You’re polite, you act interested, and you’re responsive. But for some reason, none of them ever calls you back after the initial Starbucks date. You don’t get it. What’s actually happening is that you’re driving men away with subtle verbal or nonverbal signals that say “I don’t like you” or “I’m bored” or “I’m boring.” But you’re not aware that you’re sending these signals. So all the guys just fade away. You complain that the single men near you don’t really want to have relationships.

The fix: Before a date, close your eyes and imagine that the person you’re about to meet is a dear old friend who you haven’t seen in years. Greet the guy and start the evening with that friendly vibe. If you like him, end the date with the same warmth.

5. Crumbs
The pattern: You’re involved with a guy (who may be married) who sees you occasionally and only when it works in his schedule. For the most part, he treats you well when he’s with you.

If he’s wealthy, he may buy you Manolos or take you out to five-star restaurants. He may be hot in bed. But he cuts you off if his wife or son needs the slightest thing. And he’s never available when you need or want him. This rejection causes you a great deal of pain, yet you think that overall it’s a good deal. You spend a lot of time thinking and fantasizing about him: how he’s going to leave his wife or cut back on his work schedule and be with you in a rose-covered cottage or on the beach in Maui. In your heart of hearts, you know that day will never come, but you’re afraid to act on that knowledge. Although you’d never admit it, even to your best friend, you believe that this second-class status is the very best you’ll ever be able to get and you’re damn lucky to have it.

The fix: Give up the crumbs and take a seat at the banquet table. First, break up with him. Then make a rule: I only date men who are (a) available and (b) crazy about me (for real). Try this on for size, even if it means spending time with guys who “aren’t good enough” but who treat you like royalty. You need to learn what it really means to be loved.

If you recognize yourself in any of these scenarios, congratulations. You have the courage to really see yourself, and that’s always the first step towards change. The second step is to try the “fixes” on for size. If changing your M.O. feels weird, remember: that strange scary feeling means you’re on the right path to opening love’s doo

Jen Schefft, the woman he chose, eventually broke things off and went on to star in her own installment of “The Bachelorette” and turned down the proposal offered up at the end.

Since then, she’s written “Better Single Than Sorry”, which I found myself leafing through a few months ago while waiting for a friend at the book store.

A lot of it seemed like common sense — but as I’ve become well aware of, sense isn’t all that common.

Why is it that, sometimes, we need to see something written down and bound in a book before we’ll even consider something?

Personally, my definitive singles’ guide was written in the 1930s by a woman named Marjorie Hillis called “Live Alone and Like It”.

Granted, the title of the book kind of seems…well, dispiriting to the single gal, but when you read this book, it’s all about celebrating you and relying on yourself.

When it comes to putting yourself out there and finding someone, most advice centres around learning to love yourself first…because, as good old Whitney has said before, “it’s the greatest love of all.”

That’s why I found this article interesting:

HOW TO MAKE BETTER ROMANTIC CHOICES
Don’t settle for the wrong person just because it’s the right time

By Sean K. Murphy
Special to Yahoo! Personals
Updated: May 3, 2007

If you spend a lot of time wondering if you’ll ever find that special relationship, stop. Instead, think about the millions of married people who wake up each day wishing they had made a different choice. Difficult as it may be, your longing beats their regret, especially if you use your time alone productively.

According to a recent survey, nearly 15 percent of Americans say their
biggest regret in life involves a love relationship. Of those, more than half say they would choose a different mate or dump a former love sooner if they could change their past. More than a third of those who would have chosen a different mate are married, and half have children living at home.

The statistics are startling and point to bad romantic decision making on the part of both men and women. The reasons have become cliche: settling for the wrong person just because it’s the right time; hoping to change someone into what you want them to be; not having the foresight to choose someone who can grow alongside you; believing that some magical, transformational person is waiting around the corner to whisk you to your exciting new life. The list is endless and at its core is the need to find someone — anyone — to be with, at least until someone better comes along.

Work on yourself
If you’re alone right now, there’s a healthier way of thinking that will better prepare you to make fulfilling romantic choices. It involves working on yourself and letting the rest take care of itself. It’s based on four key principles:

Confront your fear of being alone. Do whatever it takes — talk to friends, exercise, read self-help books, go to therapy, do volunteer work — to know it’s okay to be alone. Live your life doing the things you love and you’ll find compatible love interests while you’re doing those things. Forget “you complete me.” It’s a tear-jerking movie line that has no practical application in life a tear-jerking movie line that has no practical application in life. Besides, who do you want to be with — half a person or someone with whom you share in common a sense of self-fulfillment and connection?

Believe you are the prize. Live as if a great relationship is coming your way and it will find you. Quality people are attracted to confidence, not neediness.

Improve your dumping skills. Do an inventory and get rid of all the negative influences in your life. Tops on your dumping list should be toxic friends. It’s good practice for future dating so you don’t waste time with people who aren’t good for you.

Look at reality and not fantasy. Especially on a first date, listen carefully to what the other side of the table is saying. People are less defended on first dates because they’re not sure yet what the other person is looking for and there’s less at stake emotionally. Whether it’s the first or fifth date, in their words and actions, the people you’re with tell you exactly who they are all the time. All you have to do is watch, listen and accept what’s being presented to you.

Next steps
If you’ve mastered these principles and are looking for a relationship, there are two ways to go: date a lot of people or wait for someone you think could be “the one.” It can be painful, but frequent dating is your best choice for a host of reasons. Being out there keeps your skills sharp and helps you develop a more discerning eye toward who’s right for you. It may also test and expand your concepts of who is right for you. Waiting around simply diminishes your opportunities and dulls your charm.

At the end of the day, finding the right relationship is all about you. The better you know and believe in yourself, the better prepared you will be to make smart choices in love and never settle.

I’d only been there once and that time, I was on a guest list, so maybe that was the only reason I got in. But then I remembered how, a couple of years back, I was with a fairly multicultural group — only one of the guys was white — and how we’d had the same problem. We didn’t get in. We stood out in the cold, waiting and waiting because the birthday girl was adamant that this was “the” place she wanted to go to.

I kind of paused and wondered, “Why am I going?”

Privately, I’d been talking about this with a couple of friends, who all said the same thing, “Aren’t we too old to be doing this shit? Heading out to dance and get drunk and hopefully hook up with someone?” And is that really the ideal way to meet someone? In a dimly lit place where you’re plastered, he’s plastered, and you can’t hear a single damn thing that’s being said?

I’ll bet you that the number one thing that’s usually seen in most online dating profiles is this: “Tired of the bar and club scene.”

Is there something fundamentally sad about the person who isn’t tired of the bar and club scene? And why do we still force ourselves to head out on a Friday or Saturday night?

It can be argued, of course, that, if we don’t put ourselves “out there”, then what hope do we have of meeting someone? Granted, there are other ways of meeting people…but why does it seem harder and harder to meet someone? And not just any one…we’re talking about the right one.

Yes, drumming up the courage to approach someone who piques your interest is half the battle…but the other half is the most important part…finding that one person you want to be with for the rest of your life.

Dating just gets so…tiring. After awhile, you just find yourself sitting across from yet another first date and you think, “I don’t give a crap about what your interests are or what you do for a living.”

I just want to fast forward through all of this and be at the part where I’m actually building a life with someone and not still out there, looking for that someone.

*sigh*

“What if your soul mate has a money problem — would you write them off?” Leslie asked, after discussing a Dear Abby column. Citing money as a major source of contention, Leslie asked if money should be something we take a real hard look at.

Here’s the column:
DEAR ABBY: I’m 20 and engaged to a wonderful guy I’ll call “Tom.” There is only one thing that worries me. Tom’s family isn’t the best with money, and he doesn’t have much money right now. I don’t want to be deeply in debt when we’re married, and I’m also worried that I will have to be the one with a “head for money.” (I’m not. I was overdrawn last year.)
It seems ridiculous to think that money could get in the way of love, but my parents divorced because of financial problems. How can I work this out with Tom before it gets to be a problem? What’s the right approach? — THINKING AHEAD IN SYRACUSE

DEAR THINKING AHEAD: You may not have a head for money, but you have a keen eye for a serious pitfall ahead. Money problems have wrecked many marriages besides your parents’.

A non-threatening way to approach the subject would be to tell your fiance that before you go any further, the two of you must have premarital counseling. Be sure to tell the counselor about your concerns, because making sure the two of you have similar goals in this area is crucial. A long engagement will not only give you a chance to know each other better, but also give Tom time to reduce or eliminate his debts — so don’t rush into anything.

She has a point.

I know money isn’t everything, but being with someone who’s irresponsible with money and who’s in debt is something I’d be very wary of.

I don’t need someone who’s rich, but I also don’t need someone who’s constantly in debt and who has a bad handle on money. A couple of my closest friends are in this cycle of debt and I can see how they just don’t get it — they have real problems with handling money and they’ve come to accept being in debt…like it’s something that can’t be helped.

I don’t think I could be with someone who thinks of money in that way.

He wanted to hear from single women. He asked, “Would baldness be something you’d look at before considering dating someone?”

I couldn’t help but laugh when the first caller kept saying, “I’d be willing to be the lab rat for this pill. If you know of a pill, PLEASE call me and let me know! PLEASE!”

It was interesting how Leslie asked, “Why are those of us who are (hair) challenged so concerned with this?”

Here’s why: when it’s not your choice, it sucks.

So, what does that mean? That I should be more of a weak-wristed, co-dependent who needs a man to come along and save me?

I wasn’t sure how to take it, because at the same time, she also added, “But don’t ever change. You want someone who loves you inside and out.”

Don’t we all?

What was she implying? That I was like every other high maintenance Asian bitch that he’d ever gone out with? Slightly psycho and clingy?

Okay — I know that’s not what she was implying. She thinks I’m the sort of girl he should settle down with because I’m enough of a “challenge”, in that I wouldn’t be glued to his side all the time and I wouldn’t be letting him pull any bullshit on me.

But still…I know the kind of girls he dates and to be lumped into that group? No thanks.

Her brother’s the kind of guy who knows he’s good-looking and who can get any girl he wants. And even though he’s only a year younger than us, I’ve always thought of him as a little kid.

Every time I’ve been over at their place, he’s been like this overexcited child — this loud talker who makes a big deal out of everything.

I used to think he was cute — not in a “Oh, aren’t you precious?” cute, but in an “I concede that many woman find you attractive” cute.

What’s not to like?

For an Asian guy, he’s really easy on the eyes. Almost, but not quite, Daniel Henney-hot.

Maybe more Takeshi Kaneshiro-hot.

Okay. Why don’t I like this guy, again?

Oh, right. Because I’m not a complete superficial cow. And also…isn’t there a bit of weirdness in dating a friend’s brother? What if things don’t work out? I mean, it’s all nice and fine when your friend is already racing ahead with fantasies of how you could be her future sister-in-law, but what if things don’t work out? Do you wind up losing a friend in the process?

Maybe I think too much about what happens in the event that things go badly.

I was embarrassed when I read the letter — this is the kind of thing I do when I’m bored. I write stupid letters — sometimes, I manage to recover enough of my senses not to send it. Instead, I keep them locked away in a drawer only to discover them later on.

I wonder why I don’t have the heart to throw them away.

It’s painful reading those letters.

I came across this postcard on Post Secret quite awhile ago. I could have very easily made this card:

I think most of the bitterness has faded…though, when I found out he was engaged to the 21-year-old, it reared its ugly head again.

The Best Friend said she understood. She feels the same way about her ex.

“Is it bad that I want something horrible to happen to him? Like that his house burns down?” she asked.

“Um, hello. You’re asking the wrong person. I wanted that Fuck Face to get an STD,” I replied. And then sounding very much like Al Bundy when he did that cameo in Wayne’s World, I added, “I just want to rip out his heart so he can see how shrivelled up and black it is.”

But like I said, the bitterness has subsided. Honest.

In the car the other day, the new single by Maroon 5 came on and the key words that caught my attention were:
And it really makes me wonder
If I ever really gave a fuck about you…

I’ve been here before
One day a week
And it won’t hurt anymore

“It’s because you thought he was ‘the one’. When you haven’t dated in awhile because you’ve been waiting for someone you really connect with, you start thinking the first guy who comes along who you spark with is ‘the one’ — even if he might not be. And as soon as those words: ‘the one’ creep into your head, you’re basically screwed.”

That’s the problem with us women. We get too caught up in the notion of “the one.”

“You guys look like brother and sister,” she commented.

I was kind of grossed out. “Gee. Thanks. That’s what every girl wants to hear.”

“No, it’s a good thing,” she insisted, saying that in the Filippino culture, the more a couple looks like each other, the higher the chances they’ll wind up together.

I held up one hand to stop her. “Don’t even go there. You’ll just convince me that Jim’s ‘the one.’”

Another friend, The Teacher, thinks that most Asian guys are just shy. Well, except for her brother, who, being almost Daniel Henney-hot, can get any girl he wants. The rest of the Asian guys, however, fall into that sad dating wasteland known as “The Valley of the Insecure.”

She thinks Jim’s just one of those shy guys.

I don’t know.

I think if a guy likes you, he’ll let you know in some shape or form…that’s how I know that my friend, The German, likes me. But because I’ve long-since lumped him in the “friends” category, I cheerfully play the role of the oblivious girl who misconstrues every hint and just treats him like the buddy that I see him as.