People from my past often track me down via this blog.  I am constantly shocked how many of them, during the course of an email, will say something to the effect of "I can’t believe you’re not married," or "I thought you’d be the first person to get married."  I understand this to some degree.  To people in my past (let’s just call it high school through about a year past law school or so), I was the one who always had a boyfriend.  I went from one to the next to the next, without enough time between to become truly comfortable with myself and with being alone. 

For people who have met me more recently, they are often surprised that I don’t have a boyfriend.  I have, from time to time, and I definitely go on dates, but things are very different now than they were back in the day.  And everyone, especially the married folks, has a theory about why I’m currently single.  One of my readers  (whom I’ve never met) commented the other day that maybe it’s because I’m "not a nice person in real life, have cats, or have issues."  He did add the caveat that we all have issues (and I’ll agree to that).  Today’s theory, from a friend and former co-worker, is that my "standards are too high."  Um . . . have you read about the jackasses?  My absolute base standard is "not a jackass."  Granted, I also like guys who are smart, attractive, treat me well, and call/make plans when they say they will.  I hardly think this is setting the bar too high.  Sure, there’s more to it than that, if we’re talking true boyfriend material, but for a few dates, at least until I get to know someone, that’s where we start.  And let’s assume for a moment that my standards are, in fact, too high.  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.  My point is, dating, and especially dating in New York City, is not that simple, or that clear-cut.  And I have plenty of friends in the same boat as I am.  So feel free to throw out your theories — I’ll try to address them.

When Hugh just gets all up into my brain.  Case in point:

I was given some grief today about not having any jackasses last year.  Here’s to hoping that 2007 will be as boring for my readers on that front as 2006.

I realized tonight that I never made new year’s resolutions this year.  Not that it really matters — some of the typical resolutions that people make I’ve already got under my belt (go to the gym regularly), and others I have been planning anyway (do a triathlon).  I suppose there could be some things on my list, though, like: 1) go to bed earlier (that one’s for you, Dad);  2) try to slow down a bit (Dad will like that one, too, actually); 3) entertain/cook more (I’m off to a good start with that one — I’m about to have my third dinner party in less than 10 days); and 4) go through my mail every day (rather than weekly, or even monthly, as it sometimes happens). The idea is to make them realistic rather than set myself up for failure.  Any other ideas for resolutions?

Unless something really bizarre happens between now and midnight, I will have made it through 2006 with no jackasses of which to speak.  Yes, it’s true, there was a blip a few months back, but after giving it some thought, I’ve chosen to take him out of the running.  The incident in question was so insignificant compared to last year’s stories that it really isn’t even in the same ballpark, plus the person responsible for said incident was quite non-jackassish in general.   So, I apologize, dear readers, for the lack of entertainment value, but I have to admit that I’m quite pleased.  It probably helped that I was dating someone for the first five months of the year.  Anyway, here’s to hoping that 2007 will also be jackass-free for me as well as for all of you.  In the meantime, if you have your own 2006 jackass stories to share, by all means do.

I’m off to a "make-and-take" hors d’oeuvres cooking class with Mom and Stephen, which I will bring to my dinner party tonight to serve as an intro to beef tenderloin and truffled mashed potatoes.  Have a happy new year, everyone!  See you in 2007.

Welcome to the world, Maya!  It was very kind of Erika to hold her in for an extra day just so we can share a birthday.  I already told Maya not to allow anyone to get her any combination bday/chanukah presents — it’s never too early for such important advice.  Congrats again to Erika and Jeremy!

It’s my birthday too, yeah!  Gotta love when your first phone call of the day is Matt singing that song to you (thanks, pumpkin!).  36 is off to a great start so far, and now I’m off to the gym to continue on the right path.  Next on the agenda is brunch with some family, then grocery shopping for dinner tonight (tapas and paella) and birthday festivities out on the town.  If you’re a loyal reader and are in town, let me know!

than at the beach.  Let’s hear it for global warming, folks.  Okay, so there was no sunbathing involved, but John and I headed out to Kismet for a great walk on the beach and a gorgeous sunset.  I forced him to listen to cheezy Christmas music in the car on the ride home (I’m a bad, bad Jew).  The rest of the photos are here.

Once again, it’s gotten kind of quiet around here.  Mea culpa.  Just frantically trying to wrap things up before the end of the week — gifts for some work folks, last minute holiday shopping, and, of course, the gym and various plans.  Monday I took an early look at the newly opened Stand (didn’t love it, but then again they had only been open for two hours at the time) and then hit Bowlmor (I still suck at bowling).  Tuesday was the Gothamist holiday party at Cronkite Pizza (got to have some more of that delicious mushroom and truffle pizza — same owner as Fornino), and last night we saw Little Children at the Angelika.  Tonight, I’ll be making a batch of toffee and relaxing a bit.  Can’t wait.

How is it that the weekend wasn’t long enough to get half of the things done that I needed to do?  I did accomplish some things — had a tough workout, made some soup, some homemade granola (a holiday gift), did two loads of laundry, and did some errands, but I didn’t finalize my new Gothamist contributors (ack!), sign my work holiday cards, or make butter crunch toffee (another holiday gift).  If only I could have one more weekend day . . .