Earlier this week, I impulsively signed up for the NY Post’s Dating Game. Why? Not sure, really. At the time, my thought process was more like, “why the hell not?” I was scheduled to go in for my headshot today, but have since thought of several reasons not to go. As my dad said, it seems a little too public (and as my mom said, “oy“). I told some work colleagues about it and got a similar reaction — I am well-known in my professional community, and people know what I look like, so they would recognize me if they saw me in the paper, and would get a chance to read about my personal life. I seriously doubt that participating in the column would do much for my dating life except increase the possibility of a free dinner, and I don’t think it would bolster my professional image in any way, shape, or form. I have only told a few professional colleagues about this blog, and, in keeping with my general guidelines on subject matter of my blog, I have never written anything in it that I wouldn’t be relatively comfortable telling them about in person. Not so with a review of a date, half of which would have been beyond my control to edit. And finally, the gentleman from the Post who called to schedule my headshot was the co-author of the article about what to wear on a date which I recently characterized as “useless drivel.” Not a good sign. So — I have decided to bail.

In other news, I’m off to Maine for my baby brother’s college graduation. He’s the last of the three of us to finish up, and he’ll be joining me in NYC for at least a few years, which will be a great addition to the mix. This is, of course, assuming I’m still around . . .

Have a great weekend!

On a whim yesterday I submitted an application for the New York Post’s “dating game.” I returned home to a voice mail from someone at the Post wanting to schedule me for a headshot. Now this could be interesting/humiliating/terrifying. I really have got to stop smoking crack in the office . . .

I have to thank everyone for their input on last week’s post. I promised to fill you in on my thoughts on the matter, so here they are. First of all, I have lived in three places (basically): Washington D.C., but never as an adult; Boston, mostly for college, but for a few years afterwards; and New York, both in the city and in a nearby suburb. Every time I have moved to a new city, it was for school — first college, then law school. I haven’t really considered just up and moving somewhere new without the safety net of school to back me up.

So where would I go, and why? My Dad lives in Portland, Maine, which I would like if it were a tad warmer. Basically, the only other place I have ever considered living is — you guessed it — San Francisco. I’ve visited a few times and it felt comfortable, interesting, and has many of the things I’m looking for. It’s a great walking city, which is crucial for me. I have two friends moving there this summer, so I can visit them along with the other friends I already have there. I was surprised to hear Austin suggested, but I have another friend moving there — I definitely plan on visiting, particularly to see some great live music. I have to say, however, that I’m not a huge fan of the South, generally. I know Austin has a different vibe, but it’s still in Texas. I also really love the ocean, and can’t really imagine not living on a coast.

When I imagine my future, I see an urban setting. No suburbs for me, thank you very much. I see myself in a place where I can walk around to my neighborhood stores, have a small garden, have friends and family over for dinner or a barbecue. I want to be able to partake in the arts and entertainment community, go to funky restaurants, stroll through Chinatown. Even farther into the future, I want to be an urban mom — just strap the kid in a backpack and take him/her to the farmers’ market, the museum, the park, and what have you.

So much of this is dependent on my career — it took me a few years in the wrong direction to find the right career path after law school. Now that I’ve found it, I’m not really ready to stray. I’d have to be able to move while staying on the right path. That could mean only moving for 3-6 months just for a change of pace while I look for something back in NYC, but it’s very unlikely that I’d do anything to jeopardize the track I’ve set myself on. Plus, the thought of uprooting my life and moving across the country is somewhat terrifying — not a decision I’d make lightly. So — we’ll see where this crazy journey called life takes me in the next few months. One day at a time.

Not sure why I’m obsessed with Bridget Harrison’s columns lately, but her column this week is sort of a counterpoint to her prior two articles. This week, she attempts to get the male New Yorker’s perspective, and concludes that they think that “girls are mean.”

Mean?! Mean, my ass. The guys she interviews come forth with brilliant insight about New York women: “Women here can be so mean,” said one friend. “Nothing is ever good enough, they expect you to pay for everything.” Yeah. That’s me, alright. “Girls who are easygoing and even occasionally pick up a tab are like a breath of fresh air.” Are there really women out there who never pay? You all know how I feel about that. The article portrays New York women as gold-digging, wedding-hungry, nitpicky bitches. And if that describes me, which I hardly think it does, then I’m definitely in the wrong city. Most women I know don’t fit that description, either, which is a testament to the interesting, smart, attractive, amazing women with whom I surround myself. We are the true women of New York City. Come and find us if you want a change of pace.

[* You know, like the movie. I really want to see this, by the way. It’s supposed to be like an updated Heathers.]

After reading two of Bridget Harrison’s articles about men in New York — one on the epidemic of casual-ness in NYC relationships; the other on NYC men being extraordinarily committment-phobic — I am even more convinced that New York City breeds an unhealthy dating environment. This realization, coupled with my jealousy of friends moving away to start new jobs or graduate school, has led me to do some serious pondering about moving to another city.

Really.

Yes, I know, I have toyed with the notion of moving to Brooklyn to change my love life, but I’m also realizing that NYC as a whole is a tough place to live. The pace is fast and furious, and sometimes it’s hard to keep up. I love it tremendously, and it’s extremely hard for me to imagine living anywhere else, but perhaps that is enough reason for me to move away, at least temporarily. If I am incredibly homesick, and miss it dearly, then I can always move back. Maybe I should move somewhere else to prove to myself that I can, in fact, live outside of NYC. Having gotten to know myself pretty well in the past five years or so, I am pretty confident that I could move to a new city where I only know a few people and put the pieces together that I need/want/like to have to form a well-rounded life and a solid social network.

So where should I go? You’ve all gotten to know me a bit over the past nine months or so — I’m extremely curious to get your opinons. I have my own, which I will share with you next week, but for now, remember that I’m looking for a well-educated, somewhat liberal population, where I don’t need a car, with good food, opportunities for cycling, and a thriving music, arts, and culture scene. Remember, I need other fun, interesting, smart, youngish folks to hang out with, and enough space to have a dinner party for them. And a Chinatown is a plus. Let me know what you think!

* [A tribute to the Clash song of the same name. And by the way, if you do not own this album, buy it immediately.]

Yet another reason to avoid “rules” on dating. This has got to be up there on the list of the most useless drivel cloaked in the guise of “advice” that I have ever seen. If guys are truly putting this much thought into what I’m wearing on a date, then I might as well just show up naked and get right to the heart of the matter. [via Gothamist]

And just when I think I’m special, the New York Times does an article on “the blog generation” (am I part of “the blog generation”?!?) and gardening. I have been wanting a garden for ages, and have only managed to cultivate a few window boxes due to my lack of any outdoor space, and in my current apartment, my lack of sun. My next abode must have a spot where I can at least graduate to a larger container garden. For me, it’s not a “radical political act,” but a tiny spot of nature that I can cultivate and call my own. And cook with, of course. The aforementioned window boxes were full of fresh herbs, which I used all summer.

The days are getting longer, the flowers are blooming, the temperatures are (generally) rising. What does this mean? For many of us, this means time to bust out the flip-flops, tank tops, and breezy skirts, and to put away the sweaters, boots, and hats. It also means that it’s time to take it all off. Time to . . . WAX. Sometimes it’s easy to let things go during the winter, but as the weather gets warmer, we need to be prepared for that last-minute trip to the beach, etc. Plus, it’s less comfortable to walk around feeling like a gorilla in the sweltering heat.

Apparently even men are jumping on the waxing bandwagon. According to Salon, heterosexual men are heading to salons to wax their nether regions. This is a scary thought to me on so many levels. Waxing is not fun. It is painful — you are paying someone to rip your pubic hair off with hot wax. I can hardly imagine what it would be like on testicles. Ouch-o-rama. It’s also awkward. What am I supposed to do with my underwear? Should I have worn a thong for this? How high do I want it? Uh . . . hmm. Gotta think about that one. You want me to put my leg where?! Guys don’t deal well with salon awkwardness. I remember sending my ex to my haircutter, and he was so nervous about how to deal with changing into the gown that I’m surprised he kept going back.

And don’t get me started about that Brazilian nonsense. Since my parents are reading this, however, I’m going to save that discussion for offline. My dad was a little distressed by the thong/steak and boobies post, so I won’t push it. See you at the salon!