It’s Monday morning and I think I’ve still got one foot in the weekend.  I spent a good chunk of Friday afternoon cleaning up my office — the piles had gotten out of hand.  I’m looking forward to heading to work and seeing my nice, clear desk.  Friday night I ate at Kasadela with John B. and Rob — I absolutely love that place, although the dental work I had done earlier in the week made it a little challenging to eat like a normal person.  Then on to help Gabe celebrate his birthday.  Saturday morning I got off to a good start with spin class, then I met up with Mom for lunch and a trip to Janovic to buy some paint samples.  I got four different colors (still figuring out the color scheme) and really didn’t like any of them, so it’s back to the drawing board.  Saturday night I went to see Jenn R.’s comedy show — she was fantastic as usual — and yesterday I headed out to Brooklyn for a late brunch at Jimmy’s.  Afterwards, I tackled two loads of laundry and headed to Roopa’s to watch the Oscars.  And now, I’ve got to shake off the weekend and have a productive few days before heading to DC on Wednesday, but I keep thinking about paint colors, which is a little distracting.  Wish me luck.

I have to say that this article in the Atlantic, "Marry Him! The case for settling for Mr. Good Enough," was one of the most depressing and, in my opinion, completely off-base articles I have read in quite a while.  It was written by a single mom by choice in her early 40’s or so, who seems to think that, as women get older, their only chance to find happiness (read marriage) is to settle.  And so once you hit about 35 or so, you should take her brilliant advice: "Settle! That’s right. Don’t worry about passion or intense connection.
Don’t nix a guy based on his annoying habit of yelling “Bravo!” in
movie theaters. Overlook his halitosis or abysmal sense of aesthetics.
Because if you want to have the infrastructure in place to have a
family, settling is the way to go. Based on my observations, in fact,
settling will probably make you happier in the long run, since many of
those who marry with great expectations become more disillusioned with
each passing year."

Geez.  First of all, this implies that women in their thirties have a never-ending supply of dates that we are rejecting merely because we are being "too picky."  Now as some longer-term readers may recall, I have been accused of being too picky or of having too high standards — my response then, as it is now, is that it’s not like there are lines of single, available, sane men hanging
around to date me if only my standards were lower.  I meet tons of
guys, but they’re taken, hung up on an ex, workaholics, players, or, as
they say, "just not into me."  Or I’m just not into them.  The ones that don’t fall into any of those categories and end up as dates have never, not ever, been cast aside because of something as superficial as an irritating habit, or even because things don’t seem crazy passionate on day one.  Sure, I’ve got to want to kiss the guy to get things started, but they usually work out from there.  On a side note, this is why it drives me up a wall when I hear guys talk about how they’re looking for fireworks or some such — in my world, every relationship that has started out with fireworks has crashed and burned into flames, so fireworks do not equal the perfect guy.  If I’m attracted to him and enjoy his company, that’s enough to get the ball rolling in my book — I don’t think that’s being picky at all.

Second of all, anyone who enters a marriage with expectations of unflagging passion till death without an ounce of effort (the great expectations to which she refers), is an idiot.  Marriage is hard.  Don’t go into it unless you are willing to do the work and you know how to communicate with your partner.  Just this week I have heard two reports from the marriage front that were certainly not all roses and sunshine, and I don’t expect it to be that way.  I still hope for it, but I am thoroughly enjoying the single life I have now, and am even hoping that it will decrease my odds of ending up divorced in the long run when I ultimately do get married.

Regardless, I thought the article was ridiculous.

Just when you think Hugh is all bitterness, he springs something like this on you!  And on an unrelated note, in the category of love-related articles that made me smile, this story from the Times sounds slightly familiar.  As for plans, I’m not doing anything swine-related this year, just celebrating the love in my life.  Hugs and smooches, all!!

Online Dating Helping Pathetic Women Get Their Hopes Crushed More Efficiently

 
Once again, the genius of the Onion.

Oh, there are so many things I can talk about here, but I won’t . . . I’ll just leave you with the picture (since it has been a while since I’ve posted one).

A little while back I was having a conversation with a male friend of mine.  We are both, to the best of my knowledge, single.  I was explaining how, at some point last year, I got so frustrated by my dating experiences that I decided to go on a self-imposed dating hiatus and just focus on other things — triathlon training, spending time with friends and family, work, etc.  I mentioned how I felt that I would really just like to be pursued for a change instead of just putting myself out there repeatedly.  Now, the feminist in me always cringes when I think this — I always believed that women should be able to make the first move, ask guys out, etc., but back in college, and for a while thereafter, I always had a boyfriend.  I never had to put this into practice.  In reality, or at least in present day NYC dating, this tactic is not a good one.  Guys here seem to like the chase.  Don’t get me wrong — they may go out with you if you ask, but I have found that in 99.9% of the successful relationships I know of here, the woman always sort of hung back and let the guy take charge, at least during the initial phases.  Anyhoo, when I explained how I wanted be pursued, my friend’s response took me aback a bit.  He said, "so do I."  "Well then," I asked, smiling, "is it possible that we’re all just sitting around, waiting to be pursued?"  "Sure."  So there you go — perhaps we’re at an impasse.  If so, who should take the first step?

This is what my brain is turning into after crunching numbers for a decent chunk of the past few days at work.  Even more to come tomorrow. 

It’s only January and, after two jackass-free years, it looks like we may have one in the running for 2008.  I know some of you are out there clapping your hands with glee (I’m not naming names or anything, Tony), but you’re going to have to wait until December for the full story.  It’s not quite in the same range as the jackasses of 2005, but it’ll do.  I personally am hoping that I don’t see any more for the remainder of the year — this may end up being an uncontested race, which will be just fine with me.

For anyone who knows a little about my employment history*, you can only imagine the perverse glee I felt when I read the following headline: Fifty-Five Lawyers Leave Anderson Kill for Reed Smith.  Including, I might add, one Mr. Lawrence Kill, a named partner.  Wonder how long they’ll last . . .

*If you don’t know and you’re really curious, shoot me an email.

Boy did I need that long weekend!  It started out with Lauren’s birthday dinner at Monkeytown (happy birthday, Lauren!), included some late night bone marrow with oxtail marmalade at Blue Ribbon, a karaoke bash, brunch at Danal with Roopa, a delicious Italian dinner at Bill and Sarah’s, and plenty of relaxation on the couch.  I also did plenty of cooking today — a scallop and corn chowder for lunches this week and a garlicky hoisin beef and snap pea stir fry for dinner.  As I braved the bitter cold today, I thought of poor Jon, out selling his wares at the greenmarket, so I gave him a buzz and brought him some soup to warm him up!  Then I finished up my errands and stayed in the warmth for the rest of the day.

Karaoke was a blast — thanks to all who came!  Some of my favorite moments included Mike channeling Eminem, David busting out some Paul Revere, Joe and Frank’s many emo moments, and good ol’ classics like Scott’s Just a Gigolo and Jay and Doug’s Say, Say, Say.  You can find the pictures here.